The Ninth: Invasion

by Benjamin Schramm

  Despite the authority in her voice, the troopers merely grumbled back. Her let out a long sigh as she finished the last bite of her meal. Breakfast was relaxing but a bit on the boring side. Brent found himself missing the bickering between Cain and Angela. He even missed Penny and Marie asking questions about Cassandra and himself. After they had all finished, or given up on eating, Tyra ordered the troopers back to bed again. Together with Ronald and Sanderson, Brent helped get the half dead troopers back to their bunks. After their first trip to the crew quarters, he had lost track of both Cassandra and Tyra. He was amazed how quickly the troopers fell back asleep in the uncomfortable bunks.

  “Well, that’s the last of them,” Ronald said, dropping Doug in his alcove.

  “Looks like it. So what now?” Sanderson asked.

  “Tyra didn’t give us any additional orders, so I guess we are free to do as we please.” Ronald looked disturbed.

  “Something wrong?” Brent asked.

  “I can’t stand this ship,” he said as he eyed the walls. “Ever since we boarded it, we’ve been in limbo. For the last two days, we haven’t had anything to do or anything even similar to training.”

  “We did have a workout in the 3P before I fell unconscious.”

  “That’s true,” Sanderson nodded in agreement, “we did have that.”

  “Don’t be silly; that’s not what’s bothering you,” Kindra said with a sleepy slur.

  “What are you talking about?” Sanderson asked, kneeling beside her bunk.

  “Isn’t it obvious? What am I saying? You are all guys; you wouldn’t notice something until it ran you over. Tyra’s been acting differently, and he’s not sure how to react.”

  Ronald took a step back.

  “See?” A wide grin spread over Kindra’s tired face. “Marie and Penny don’t own the market when it comes to women’s intuition.”

  “It’s probably best if we let the others sleep,” Brent said, putting a reassuring hand on Ronald’s shoulder.

  “You two go ahead.” Sanderson took a seat on the ground near Kindra. “I’m going to wait here.”

  “Hoping I’ll let you in on some more secrets?” she asked, sounding exhausted.

  “Something like that,” Sanderson said with a grin.

  Brent followed Ronald out of the crew quarters. They walked for a while until Ronald abruptly came to a stop in the middle of the corridor a fair distance from the bunks.

  “Do you think she’s right?” Ronald asked as he turned to face Brent.

  “You’re asking me?”

  “You’ve always amazed me with your powers of observation. I thought you’d have some insight.”

  “Isn’t this the kind of thing you should already know the answer to? Seems kind of odd to ask me how you feel.”

  “I suppose, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I thought I was just anxious about how laid-back the squad had gotten, or maybe about the war . . .”

  “But when Kindra said that, she struck a nerve.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Well, has Tyra changed?”

  “Somewhat. Since we left Deriso she’s been more like herself from the old days. Before her division started dropping grades. She has that fire in her eyes again.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her like this for a long time. For her to change so quickly . . . I guess Kindra was right. I don’t know what I should think about all of it. I really don’t like this ship.”

  “Well, you said you were attracted to Tyra from the first moment you saw her, right?”

  “Attracted?”

  “Okay, poor choice in words. But you noticed her, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You said it was her determination that you noticed, right?”

  “That’s right. Where are you going with this?”

  “If she’s changing back to how she used to be, I don’t see a problem. If her determination is returning, I’d think it would be a good thing.”

  “But it’s so sudden.”

  “Well, she’d obviously been worried about seeing her parents again. Maybe the fact the universe didn’t end was enough to make her rethink things.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Plus, from what I gather, you were pretty fond of her back then.”

  “Fond of Tyra?”

  “Sorry, poor choice of words again. But whatever you call it, you did delay your graduation because of it.”

  Ronald raised an eyebrow as he studied Brent carefully.

  “How long have you known?” Ronald asked hesitantly.

  “Not all that long, really. When Tyra mentioned Cassandra’s age, I went through the personnel files again. At first I just wanted to check her age. Although, after I woke up in sickbay I started to ask myself questions about what else I’d missed, so I went through them a little more thoroughly. I noticed at the end of your file was a notice that you had requested additional training. Training that would delay your graduation for at least a year, if not longer.

  “You’re not going to tell Tyra, are you?” he sounded desperate.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Whatever your reasons were, they are your reasons. It’s none of my business to tell anyone about them.”

  “Cain would probably berate you for missing an opportunity to blackmail me.” The hint of a smile pulled at Ronald’s lip.

  “He has his way of doing things, and I have mine. I do have one question, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Angela said your feelings for Tyra weren’t romantic, so why have you gone to such lengths to assist her over the years?”

  “You heard that?”

  “I wasn’t there in person, but Cassandra told me about it later, along with all the secrets they’d made her confess.”

  “Tyra’s told me about how the girls pressure Cassandra for details on your relationship.” He shook his head in obvious disapproval. “Makes me glad to have been born male.”

  “Tell me about it,” Brent said with a grin. “So how about it? Why the devotion to Tyra? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “I don’t know if I have an answer for you. I noticed Tyra as soon as I laid eyes on her. I knew I wanted to help her, but that was it. Perhaps I saw an interesting challenge.” He shrugged. “At the time, I didn’t even think of her as a member of the opposite sex. She was just a person I wanted to succeed.”

  “So, why put off graduation?”

  “I had started at the academy at the same time as the division leader of the SF. Technically speaking, I should have graduated along side him.”

  “So, what went wrong?”

  “Well, as the division leader was getting ready to graduate, he started giving more command duties to the squad leaders. Tyra performed the best by any measure.”

  “But the troopers didn’t respond well to her.”

  “I don’t know if it was the fact she was so young, or that she was related to a politician, or that she had joined the division as a fresh recruit, but whatever the reason the troopers just never listened to her. Her command decisions were inspired, and her strategies were unmatched, but it all meant nothing if no one would listen to them.”

  “So, you requested additional training to extend your stay on the academy to try and help her out.”

  “One night, about a month before graduation, the division leader confided in me his choice to hand over the division to Tyra. I knew she’d never be able to get the division to follow her. I hoped with my assistance we could keep the division in the top grades, but I wasn’t able to make a difference.”

  “Sounds like it was a huge sacrifice on your part.”

  “Really? I’d never given it much thought. It seemed like something I had to do.”

  “Ever regretted your decision?”

  “Nope. I can’t explain it, but I feel most at ease when I’m giving out Tyra’s orders. It just feels right to be at her side. Perhaps I was
just born to be a second.”

  “Hang on a second; something just occurred to me.”

  “What?” Ronald asked with peaked interest.

  “You said you hadn’t thought about her as a girl when you first saw her. You said it like that was no longer the case. When did that change?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it.” Ronald paused as he thought it over. “I’d have to say the first time I really noticed was during the trial against you.”

  “You’re kidding!” Brent said in shock.

  “I mean it. She swung me around in some kind of fancy waltz. It was the first time I’d really thought about her as a girl. Before that, she was just the division leader.”

  “Unbelievable.” Brent started laughing.

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you why you’re uncertain and filled with anxiety. For the first time, after five years of serving with her, you are starting to think about her as a woman. There’s your source of conflict.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Ronald, you’re twenty-three, right?”

  “Of course, why?”

  “Good, then there won’t be any legal considerations.”

  “Legal considerations? What are you scheming?”

  “A surefire test. After this you’ll know, without any doubt, what’s bothering you.”

  “Brent . . .” Ronald cast a concerned glance at the Weaver.

  “Trust me. You head to the recreation room. I’ll meet you there shortly.”

  Ronald gave him an uncertain look before reluctantly heading down the corridor. As soon as Ronald was out of sight, Brent rushed in the opposite direction toward the mess room. He had to ask at least a dozen crewmembers before he tracked Cassandra and Tyra down. The two were chatting and chuckling in an unused side room when he finally found them.

  “Are you all right?” Cassandra asked him. “You’re out of breath.”

  “Don’t worry about me . . . just fine. Tyra?” Brent asked, panting.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you head to the recreation room with me.”

  “Why, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing wrong; just testing a theory.”

  Cassandra and Tyra exchanged glances. The squad leader shrugged and followed Brent. Ronald was sitting at the bar waiting when they reached the room.

  “Ronald, Tyra, would you two mind getting ready for a 3P? I just want to run it by Cassandra, and we’ll join you.”

  Ronald shot a curious glance at Brent, but Tyra pulled him away from the bar.

  “What’s this all about?” Cassandra whispered to him.

  “Just following in Marie and Penny’s footsteps. Although, I’m stealing a play out of Cain’s playbook.”

  “Cain? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  Brent discretely handed his pad to the bartender. The bartender quickly read over the pad. His right eyebrow instantly shot up. Brent nodded toward Tyra and Ronald. The bartender shrugged and bent over to retrieve the 3P. He noticed the bartender pulled the 3P out of a bin that had been well hidden out of sight. As Brent checked the 3P, he leaned over to Cassandra as if showing it to her.

  “What exactly do you have there?” she asked.

  “Just pretend to join them in the 3P. Trust me,” he whispered to her, keeping the 3P out of her sight.

  Cassandra took the proper position while Brent set up the 3P. As the 3P started working, he watched Ronald and Tyra. Both of them seemed to fall asleep. As soon as Cassandra was certain they were experiencing the 3P, she turned to face him.

  “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “Take a look at this. It’ll answer your questions.”

  Brent handed his pad over to her. As she read through it, her face started to redden.

  “But . . . this is . . .” Cassandra tripped over her words.

  “A romance 3P. Or at least that’s what Cain calls them.”

  “Of all the dirty tricks. How could you do this to them?” Her face was getting redder.

  “Calm down. Ronald approached me in the corridor. He’s a total mess.”

  “And this is supposed to help him?”

  “Actually, yes. This should help him sort out his feelings.”

  “His feelings? Angela said he was devoted to Tyra, not in love with her.”

  “True, but did you know for the last five years he didn’t really realize Tyra was a girl.”

  “What?” Cassandra shouted.

  “I know. I nearly bust a gut laughing. The reason Angela didn’t think he had any romantic feelings toward Tyra was because he didn’t even know he had any.”

  “And this is supposed to help?”

  “That’s my aim. If everything goes well, they should both realize exactly what they think about one another, maybe even let a few of those repressed feelings out.”

  “And if it doesn’t go well?”

  “Worst case, they spend a few hours in a romantic setting and are embarrassed beyond words.”

  “It’s your neck . . .”

  Cassandra’s face was incredibly red as she handed back his pad. She rubbed her hands together nervously.

  “Something wrong?” Brent asked.

  “You haven’t done one of these . . . romance 3Ps . . . have you?” Cassandra looked like she was about to explode.

  Glancing at his pad, Brent found the list Cain had sold him staring back at him. Cassandra had pulled up the long list of romance 3Ps Cain had assembled.

  “Why? Do you want to run through one with me?” he asked, getting ready to run.

  “That’s not what I meant!” As she shouted, her face doubled in redness.

  “That wasn’t a no,” he said, standing.

  Cassandra was about to shout at him when she noticed the bartender and several patrons were all staring at her. Hiding her face behind him, she pushed him out into the hallway. She kept pushing him down the corridor until she felt she was safe from eavesdropping. As she checked the corridor for crewmembers, Brent noticed she had calmed down a bit, and her face wasn’t red anymore.

  “Pervert,” she said, pouting a bit.

  “You don’t really think . . .”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You are getting worked up over nothing. The two of us in the marsh was the closest I’ve even come to a romance 3P.”

  “You’re not lying, are you? That was a pretty elaborate list.”

  “I’ll pass along that compliment to Cain.”

  “Cain? What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “He’s the one who sold me that list.”

  “I should have known.” Cassandra ground her fist into her palm.

  Brent put his arms around her and leaned close to her ear.

  “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “you’ll be there when I go through my first romance 3P.”

  She instantly froze.

  “Don’t try to sweet talk your way out of this one,” she nearly shouted as her face flashed red.

  “I wasn’t sweet talking, I was making a promise,” he said with a wink.

  She turned a deep red. Brent waited as she collected her thoughts.

  “I’ll let you off the hook, this time,” she said, trying to sound firm. “But . . .”

  “But?”

  “. . . I get to pick the 3P.”

  She immediately turned her back on him. With a smile he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the nape of her neck. She let out a giggle at the unexpected sensation. Without warning, she forcefully grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the reason; a pair of crewmembers had rounded a corner and were approaching. Brent followed silently until she led him to an isolated spot. He recognized it as the same place he had found them earlier.

  “So what were you two talking about?” Brent asked, taking a seat on an old looking chair.

  “Who?”

  “Tyra and you.”

  “Why
do you want to know?”

  “Just curious. The two of you seemed to be having a good time.”

  Cassandra looked at him nervously. When he raised an eyebrow, she averted her eyes.

  “Don’t tell me. You were talking about . . . me?”

  “A little,” she sounded defensive.

  “What did Tyra want to know?”

  Cassandra looked down at the floor, clearly not wanting to answer.

  “Nothing bad, I hope,” Brent said. “She didn’t tell you to keep away from me or something, did she?”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like?”

  “She was just interested.”

  “Interested in what?”

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?” she asked with a sigh.

  “Nope,” he said with a grin.

  “If you must know, she wanted to know how things were going. She’d always eavesdropped when Marie and Penny did the questioning in the past.”

  “And they haven’t been able to interrogate you since they set up that room for us in the cargo bay . . .”

  “She just wanted to know some of the details.” Cassandra chuckled to herself.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “The way she talked about you. She thought you were the one putting the moves on me. When I told her about the other morning, she nearly died laughing.”

  She started laughing. It was funny in retrospect, not so much at the time. Their laughter was interrupted by the P.A.

  “Attention all hands. This is the captain speaking. We are about to jump into the nebula. Please remain calm.”

  Doctor Benedict’s head was killing her. As she moved to rub her temples shooting pain filled her side. A gentle hand rested on hers.

  “Careful doctor,” Nathan said gently. “You’re still recovering.”

  “Recovering from what?”

  “You took some shrapnel in the mess hall. Don’t you remember?”

  “My head is killing me. Who treated . . .”

  She froze as she opened her eyes. She had assumed Administer Bloom was the one holding her hand. To her surprise it was the Master Weaver who was sitting at her side. She steadied her nerves and held still.

  “You aren’t forcing calm into me,” she said slowly.

  “Jack would never do that,” Nathan said indignantly. “It wouldn’t be fair after all.”