The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1)

by C. A. Hartman

  As they left the station, Tom put his arm around her and laughed.

  She smiled.

  When Catherine arrived at the airport in Washington DC, her father stood waiting for her. He accompanied her on the train ride back to the shipyards.

  “What happened to you?” Jimmy asked, peering closely at her fading black eye.

  “Nothing. Just a minor skirmish on New Years Eve...”

  He sat back in his seat. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “I hope so, Dad.”

  “Be sure to visit the Fires of Tonaili when you get to Suna. It’s a long hike, but it’s worth every step.”

  She nodded.

  When the train stopped at Headquarters, they hugged. As Catherine waited for her stop, her mind turned unexpectedly to Eshel. It was the first time she’d let herself think about all that had happened between them. She remembered their meeting for the first time, their training together, her drug-addled chat with him after the CCFs, their intimate encounters, their conversations, the sher mishtar, and the secrets they shared. Had she loved him? Of course. Had he loved her? Perhaps not. And what did it matter? Theirs was something without a future. They’d had a temporary alignment of interests, of needs, of curiosity, of willingness. Once fulfilled, such a thing would end.

  Perhaps she was a fool for allowing herself to become emotionally entangled with him without having considered the ramifications of doing so. She didn’t regret making that mistake. But she would never make it again.

  CHAPTER 16

  Virginia was dreary, rainy, and cold. Catherine always preferred the more extreme but drier cold of Colorado to the wet and drippy coast. She made her way through security, recognizing other crewmembers lining up to gain entry. The guards scrutinized her and checked her identification far more carefully than usual. She began to wonder what was wrong, until she realized she looked like a civilian, like she didn’t belong. Crewmembers were typically expected to be in uniform when boarding the ship; Catherine still wore her civies.

  Once aboard, Cornelia’s familiar odor of re-circulated air flooded Catherine with memories. It was a good feeling, which surprised her. After dropping her bag at her quarters and putting on her uniform, she walked to the starboard bar. Packed with officers, the place had the pleasantly noisy sound of vibrant conversation. She scanned the room for Tom’s blonde curls. She didn’t see him, but instead spotted Commander Yamamoto standing aside, as if watching over his crew. He looked right at her. She smiled a little, and gave him a salute. He nodded in return. She wasn’t sure, but it almost looked like a nod of approval.

  She found Snow’s dark hair. Tom’s head peeked out from behind Snow’s, and both smiled at the sight of her. Despite having seen them just a few days ago, she walked over and hugged them. They slapped her on the back, made jokes about her putting her tail between her legs, and resumed swapping Thirty stories to see who’d had the wildest time. When anyone new entered the bar, everyone looked, as it wasn’t unusual for crewmembers to return from the Thirty with one of three things: a new haircut or color, a bad sunburn, or an injury.

  “Catherine!” she heard a feminine voice call out. She followed the voice and spotted a tanned Anka pushing through the crowd to get to her.

  “How was Japan?” Catherine asked.

  “Ehhh… we wound up in New Zealand,” Anka replied with a grin. “Long story. What happened to your face?”

  “Let me get a drink first,” Catherine said, laughing.

  Catherine and Anka fought their way to the bar and Catherine ordered a beer. The storytelling and festivities went on for the remainder of the evening. And, at 0400 the next morning, the entire crew back in their quarters or on duty, Cornelia left Earth.

  Eight days later, Snow remarked during their poker game that the ship had dropped out of FTL. This time, however, they all knew why. Eshel would be returning from boot camp.

  Since deciding to return to duty, Catherine thought a lot about what her father and Tom had said about training with the soldiers. The Corps strongly encouraged their officers to get experience in departments outside their usual areas as part of the Elective Training Program, unofficially known as cross training. The Corps especially liked when science officers chose to get soldier training because it provided a source of backup aid during emergencies or times of war. Those who completed the ETP were often promoted first due their broader skill set. And, ideally, the ETP fostered goodwill and understanding between soldiers and scientists.

  She set up a meeting with Commander Ov’Raa. When she arrived, Ov’Raa smiled at her and offered her a seat. His office was decorated with numerous images of Ovlon: the ocean, various plants and animals, and many Derovian people, who Catherine assumed were his family members.

  “So you are interested in the ETP, Lieutenant! Excellent! We always encourage our scientists to learn new things! And what area interests you: Engineering? Operations? Administration?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, Sir,” she admitted. “I wanted to learn more about the program first and make sure I’m eligible.”

  He nodded. “Yes, of course! You have a clean record, Lieutenant, and are not assigned to a ‘sensitive’ post, so you are quite eligible. The program would benefit greatly from someone with your strong background. The ETP requires a minimum six-month commitment, to be extended if the participant and his or her new CO desires. Participants must commit a minimum of four hours per week, beyond that required by one’s duties. Once you identify where you want to train, you must apply to the program and obtain approval from your CO, the CO you will train under, as well as Commander Yamamoto.”

  Catherine nodded, thanked Ov’Raa, and left. She spent the next couple of days putting together her application. She ran it by Tom and her father before submitting it to Ov’Raa. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more excited she became. She wondered why she’d resisted the idea for so long, and looked forward to the opportunity to learn something new and make the next 17 months more tolerable.

  Several days later, Ov’Raa called her in. He smiled at her as he clasped his thick hands together and rested them on his neat, organized desk. “Lieutenant Finnegan, we have reviewed your application to participate in our ETP. You are a most excellent candidate for the program and would be a truly excellent addition to the Operations team. However, unfortunately, Lieutenant, your request has been denied.”

  Catherine stared at Ov’Raa, momentarily at a loss for words. “Denied, Sir?”

  “I’m afraid so, Lieutenant.”

  “Why?” she asked, feeling disappointment flood her. Had her decision to quit the mission angered Yamamoto? Did Marks dislike her? Did they not trust her because of her relationship with Eshel? It had to be the latter…

  “Commander Steele did not offer his approval. The Commander feels that as the head of your genetics lab, your position there is of such importance that you could not spare time for the program.”

  Catherine felt herself grow angry. “Sir, he must be joking.”

  Ov’Raa offered a consolatory smile. “I’m afraid the Commander makes no joke.” He paused. “I imagine you must be very disappointed.”

  Although Catherine had never minded the gentle, kind ways of the Derovians, at that moment Ov’Raa’s words, and his look of pity, only made her angrier.

  “Lieutenant, you are, of course, free to discuss the matter in greater detail with Commander Steele. However, this decision is not likely to change.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” Catherine replied. She saluted and left Ov’Raa’s office.

  When Catherine arrived at Steele’s office the next morning, she saluted and stood waiting, as usual. Steele turned from his viewer, appearing in no mood to talk about anything. But to her surprise, he motioned for her to sit down.

  “Sir, I’m here to discuss my application for the ETP,” she began. “I’m told you believe my position in the lab is too important to allow for cross training.”

  “That is c
orrect, Lieutenant.”

  Catherine expected this response, and proceeded. “Sir, I… I take my position in the lab very seriously. However, I believe I can spare the time to cross train, and believe I have a lot to offer the Corps if I complete the program. I’m trained in the martial arts and come from a family with a military history—”

  “Yes,” Steele interrupted, waving his hand at her. “I reviewed your application, so there is no need to reiterate your qualifications.”

  “What I mean to say, Sir, is that I don’t think my being in the program will impact my work or my duties. We will finish every project you assign us, even if I must work extra days.”

  Steele offered no reaction. “Lieutenant, you are the head of your lab. As such, you have extra responsibilities that the others do not, and you do not have the luxury of cross training for your own amusement.”

  Catherine sat there for a moment. “Permission to speak freely, Sir.”

  Steele hesitated before nodding.

  “Sir, I don’t think it’s fair to be held back from a good opportunity that this organization encourages simply because I run my lab. That’s essentially punishing me for all the years of hard work that earned me the privilege of running the lab in the first place.”

  “That is what you agreed to when you signed up for this mission.”

  “No, Sir, it isn’t. With all due respect, I signed up for this mission to learn new things and to grow.” She didn’t go so far as to mention Dr. Edelstein or how dull her work was.

  Steele’s eyes narrowed. “If you mean to say that my assignments aren’t up to your standards, I must warn you, Lieutenant, that I am perfectly willing to offer you more of them, leaving you even less time to pursue other goals.”

  Catherine knew that would be her only warning. She tried another tactic, and softened her tone. “I’m happy with the assignments, Sir. My point is that this opportunity would provide what I’m looking for and wouldn’t harm the quality of my work. The new things I learn could even make me a better scientist, or could benefit the research group in other ways. Isn’t that one of the purposes of the program?” She knew it was a stretch, but she was out of arguments.

  Steele rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd, Lieutenant.”

  “What’s absurd, Sir?”

  “You,” he said. “If you were ever going to conduct science that is beyond the mediocre, whether under my command or not, you would’ve showed signs of it by now. The answer is no, and this conversation is done.”

  Catherine felt her face grow hot. She looked at Steele for several moments, stunned. “Did you just insult my work?” Before he could offer any response, she said, “Go fuck yourself.”

  Steele’s angry expression turned to surprise. “What did you just say, Scientist?” Despite trying to sound threatening, even calling her by a moniker that was considered disrespectful to someone of her rank, he couldn’t hide his astonishment.

  “You heard me.” She stood up, her hands clenched in fists, her heart beating quickly and adrenaline flooding her. She turned and walked out.

  “You’re not dismissed!” Steele bellowed after her.

  Catherine kept going, heading back to the stairwell. She was too angry to do anything else. And she got no further than the second flight of stairs before two MAs stopped her. They escorted her to the first deck, passing several other crewmembers along the way, all of whom gave her a curious stare. Once at the brig, an MA entered a code and a door opened. She entered the tiny cell as the door shut behind her and made a latching sound.

  She sat alone in the small, windowless room, the hum of the ship’s engines more pronounced than ever. She began to deliberate over just how much trouble she was in. At best, she would face inquiry and a letter of reprimand. At worst, she would face the end of her career with the Space Corps. Whatever the outcome, she no longer cared.

  After two hours passed, an MA entered Catherine’s cell and cleared her to return to her quarters, where she must remain until she was served. Once escorted to her quarters, Catherine sat down to contact her father. But she hesitated; perhaps she would delay telling him until she had more information.

  Legal served her the following morning; she was charged with violating Article 67 of the Space Corps Code of Justice—Disrespect of a Superior Officer. Until resolved, she would be restricted to her quarters, suspended from duty, and denied access to the VirNet and all ship networks, with the exception of her personal network.

  Just before 1400, her doorbell sounded.

  “What the hell happened?” Tom asked, his expression half surprise and half amusement. He turned a chair backward and sat down.

  “How did you know?”

  Tom gave her a dubious look. “Except for a couple of fights among drunken soldiers, you’re the only person who’s visited the brig since this mission started. Everyone knows. That, and Kovsky saw you being escorted and came and told us.”

  Catherine related the entire story, leaving out no detail. “Steele doesn’t like me, okay. He gives me stupid assignments, alright. He prevents me from participating in cross training, fine. But he denigrates my work? I turned down a position at the Peloni Institute to come here and have my body of work insulted by that idiot? Hell, no!” She paused, giving Tom a look. “And if you tell me I’m overreacting, or that it’s no big deal… like you did about Eshel… I’ll kick the shit out of you.”

  “Easy, soldier!” Tom said with raised eyebrows. “Jesus. Unlike your breakup with Eshel, in this case I actually know the whole story, which means I can be more helpful. Get my drift?”

  Catherine took a deep breath, trying to quell her anger. “Sorry.”

  “I didn’t see this coming, C. Maybe it’s my fault—I’m the one who kept pushing you to get some soldier training.”

  Catherine shook her head. “No. This was inevitable. I don’t belong here. I should never have come back.” She sat down and ran her hands through her hair. “The only thing keeping me here now is you and Snow. I love you guys, but it’s not enough.”

  Tom sighed. “Don’t give up yet, C. Yeah, you’re gonna pay for saying that. But that asshole threw the first punch and that type of shit isn’t tolerated anymore. The good thing is, since you pissed off Steele, you can still come work for me, or you could work for Snow, who said that O’Leary might be okay with it. I know it isn’t what you want, but it’s better than leaving.” He stood up. “Let me see what I can find out. Until then, relax and don’t do anything stupid. And don’t be contacting Jimmy to say you’re coming home.”

  Catherine chuckled. “Okay.”

  In the bridge ready room, Yamamoto sat down with Captain Ferguson and Ov’Raa, who read their documents about the incident between Commander Steele and Catherine.

  Ferguson sighed and looked up from her pad. “So we’ve had our first Article 67 incident. Frankly, I’m surprised it took this long.” Ov’Raa smiled at the Captain’s comment. “If Steele wants a letter of reprimand, let’s get it done quickly. We’re still not far from home and a transport could retrieve Lieutenant Finnegan at relatively little cost.”

  Yamamoto shook his head. “I don’t believe this warrants formal reprimand, Captain. Catherine’s comment was disrespectful and insubordinate, but Commander Steele is not without blame. He offered a personal insult that was highly inappropriate. And from what I’ve heard, the Commander has a documented history of insulting his scientists.”

  Ferguson looked at Ov’Raa, as if waiting for him to corroborate Yamamoto’s claims.

  Ov’Raa nodded. “Yes, Captain, Commander Steele’s record shows two documented incidents, although both occurred years ago…”

  Ferguson put her hands up. “So? It’s okay for her to tell her superior officer to go fuck himself because he hurt her feelings?”

  Yamamoto shook his head. “Of course not. However, the Commander did more than hurt Catherine’s feelings. He made a personal insult by denigrating her work as a scientist—”

  “Maybe her work
isn’t up to par, Suko.”

  “Steele’s reports indicate that she completes all her assignments satisfactorily. Moreover, I am told that Catherine turned down an offer from a renowned research institute in order to take this mission. Employment there is extremely competitive, only offered to those who show significant promise in the field. I’m told she’s quite skilled.”

  “Let me guess,” Ferguson said. “Eshel told you all of this?”

  Yamamoto shook his head. “Eshel has said nothing. Tom mentioned the job offer, and the rest I got from the institute itself. They made it clear that with adequate funding they would still take her after the mission.”

  “Maybe they should take her now,” Ferguson muttered, sitting back in her chair. “You want to forgo the letter.”

  “She has a spotless conduct record.”

  Ferguson gave a disapproving look. “You’re quick to come to her aid again, Suko.”

  “It’s my job to know the character of those on our ship.”

  Ferguson turned back to Ov’Raa. “Do you agree with the Commander’s conclusions?”

  Ov’Raa clasped his thick hands together, a pale blue flush coming over him. “I do not have all the information that the Commander does,” he began, nodding to Yamamoto. “Yet I have noticed that Commander Steele can be quite… harsh.” He smiled. “And I do not believe he fully supports the ETP. Records show that he hasn’t allowed his subordinates to partake in it, nor has he allowed any soldier to cross train under his command.” He paused. “I recommend, Captain, that we avoid formal reprimand and issue a warning to both parties, subject to more serious punishment if not heeded.”

  Ferguson smiled at Ov’Raa’s magnanimity. “She insulted her commanding officer, Commander. She must pay a steeper price than he does.”

  “Yes, Captain. A formal apology, then, for Lieutenant Finnegan. And probation.”

  Ferguson pushed out her chair. “Let Legal know what we’ve decided. Make sure those two stay out of each other’s way for a while.” She got up and left the ready room.