“They’re all afraid,” Angela said finally, her voice soft enough that no one else could hear it.
“And here is about the only place they can show it,” Michelle murmured back. “Tradition says we officers show a brave face to the enlisted, even in the Space Force where we practically outnumber our enlisted.”
Angela wordlessly flicked her fingers at the young man, a Steward Specialist Two, serving the tables.
“Tradition also allows for us to ignore that tradition in the mess, and hope that the trust extended to the Steward Division helps offset the realization of just how human the lot of us officers are,” Michelle said dryly.
“I’m afraid,” Angela admitted, laying her hand on Michelle’s. “Starfighter crew is one of the most dangerous jobs we have. I don’t want to lose you, my dear.”
Michelle squeezed her lover’s hand.
“I chose the uniform,” she told Angela. “I chose the Space Force, I chose to go for my wings, I chose to fly a starfighter – and I wouldn’t choose anything else.”
“I know,” the nurse said quietly. “And I wouldn’t change who you are for an instant. But I know the odds, too, Michelle. I don’t think there’s ever been a fighter strike without losses.”
“Our job is to keep Avalon intact,” Michelle replied. “Which I, personally, see as a side benefit of keeping you safe.”
Angela smiled softly, sadly, and Michelle squeezed her hand again. There wasn’t much more she could say – when the Commonwealth attacked Tranquility, she would be out there with the rest of the pilots. Just as Angela would be in the infirmary, dealing with the inevitable injuries of combat.
That was their duty and nothing, not even love, could change that.
Under Alcubierre Drive
21:00 September 12, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Executive Officer’s Office
No matter what uniform he wore, or what service he ended up in, it seemed that Kyle couldn’t escape the never-ending curse of paperwork. His inability to run through the reports and approvals rapidly through his implant was coming back to haunt him as well, which led to him sitting in his office well after his watch was over, with a half-eaten donut and a datapad explaining why Fleet Commander Wong wanted to promote one of his petty officers.
The document on his pad was hardly stimulating enough to make him miss the admittance buzzer on his door. It took a moment for him to wake up enough to recognize what it was, but that wasn’t the promotion request form’s fault.
“Enter,” he instructed.
To his surprise, Lieutenant-Commander Maria Pendez stepped through the door. As it slid shut behind her, she triggered the privacy mode that prevented anyone else from entering the room.
Since anyone above her in her chain of command, including Kyle, could override that privacy setting, he let this pass with a raised eyebrow.
“Come in, Lieutenant-Commander. Have a seat,” he told her, gesturing to the pair of chairs on the other side of the desk. “I’m just catching up on paperwork – Kleiner was on top of it, but it breeds like rabbits.”
His admittedly lame joke fell utterly flat as Pendez silently took one of the seats and faced him, her face far more drawn and tired looking than he was used to seeing from the cheerful Navigator.
“I have a problem, sir,” she said finally. “It was easier to talk to Caroline about this, but she’s gone. And it seems I can’t deal with it myself.”
Kyle waited for her to explain. Kleiner hadn’t planned on being blown to hell, so it wasn’t as if she’d left him a file labeled ‘ongoing personnel counseling’. If she and Pendez had been discussing something, he had no information on it at all.
“I know I have a reputation as a man-eater,” Pendez said bluntly. “It’s… not without basis. I decided a long time ago I didn’t want to marry or settle down with a military man. I also had no interest in being celibate – I am quite fond of men in many ways.”
“I’ve always been up-front about the nature of the relationships I’m getting into,” she continued. “Unfortunately, it appears that in at least one case that fell on deaf ears, and the gentleman in question is… unhappy about how things have progressed.”
“I see,” Kyle replied, hoping that he was wrong.
“He hasn’t progressed to violence or anything like that,” she assured him. “But he’s been following me. Two nights ago he showed up outside my quarters. Last night he interrupted what was looking to be a very pleasant evening with one of the CIC shift supervisors. He started haranguing us until my date left. I tried to tell him it was unacceptable, that we were done and he needed to leave me alone – but it only made him madder.”
“I see,” Kyle repeated. “Should I be getting Lieutenant-Major Khadem in here?”
“No, sir!” Pendez replied quickly. “He’s a good guy – I used to think so, anyway. He’s just from Cauldron, and I should have looked up more about his homeworld before I jumped after a cute ass.”
Kyle flipped up a summary of Cauldron on his datapad to make sure what he remembered was correct. Technically a Protectorate of the Commonwealth rather than an actual member world, Cauldron was a barely-inhabitable world orbiting a super-bright F-class star. With sixty percent of its surface desert, the planet had a small population, which seemed to be unified in their membership in a very old, very conservative, sect of Christianity.
“I’m surprised he was willing to sleep with you,” Kyle admitted, glancing down the data fields.
“I’m not sure what he was thinking, but now he seems to think I’m committed to marry him,” Pendez snapped. “And that any other man laying hands on me is ‘sinning in the eyes of Jehovah’.”
Kyle sighed and laid aside his datapad.
“And you don’t want to press charges?” he asked, making certain.
“Not… yet,” she admitted. “I know Commander Kleiner was going to try and talk to him. I don’t know if she did, but I also suspect the twit will listen better to a man.”
“Who is it?” Kyle finally asked. While it was unlikely that the man could have made it through the Academy if he was completely unable to listen to women, it still fell to the XO to put a stop to harassment. Regardless of said Exec’s gender.
“Lieutenant-Commander James Russell, in Engineering,” Pendez said in a rush. “I thought there was a good guy in there, but now his head is so far up his ass I’m not sure!”
“I will speak to him,” Kyle said calmly. “But I need you to promise me one thing, Ms. Pendez.”
“Yes, sir?” she asked hesitantly.
“If he harasses you again, you will page myself or the Ship’s Marshal immediately,” he ordered firmly. “What you describe from last night is already over the line, Maria. I will not permit it to be repeated, no matter how good a guy he is underneath. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she said with a long sigh. “I understand, sir.”
“Good. Now leave it with me for now,” Kyle told her. “I will speak with Commander Russell.”
Chapter 28
Under Alcubierre Drive
08:00 September 13, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Main Engineering
Kyle entered the central chamber of the Engineering Deck, the cavernous expanse holding the carrier’s main zero point energy cells, with a strong sense of trepidation.
He’d had a chance since ushering Pendez out of his office the previous night to research Cauldron and the Church of the Final Advent in some detail. It seemed that somewhere between what he was sure had been an honest attempt on Maria Pendez’s to be up-front about the nature of her approach and James Russell’s cultural interpretations, there’d been a mis-communication.
The Church of the Final Advent was an odd conservative sect of Christianity born sometime in the first two centuries of the third millennium. It had an odd mix of cultural ideals and rituals, borrowed from a lot of different religions – not all of them Christian – b
ut the one currently at play was simple. Cauldron’s women chose their husband – that was their ‘God-given right’.
Unfortunately, that choice was irrevocable once made – and it was formalized by the woman having sex with the man of her choice to mark the betrothal. Once a woman had ‘given herself’ to a man, tradition required the wedding to be within three months.
And regardless of whether betrothed or marriage, touching another man’s woman was, as Pendez had quoted to him, ‘a sin against Jehovah’. One that, according to the sociological article he’d found, written by one of the politicos who’d accompanied the original Federation humanitarian mission to the battered colony thirty years ago, Cauldron men were known to kill over.
Kyle was relying on the fact that Russell had managed make it through a Federation Academy, and all the culture shock that had to have come with that, to help him calm the man down.
It also made a good reason for him to visit the Engineering Deck for the first time since he’d set foot on Avalon. The central chamber was stunningly quiet. He knew just how much power the six massive zero point cells that surrounded him were pumping out – a single capital-ship-grade cell could power a large city.
“Commander Roberts,” Wong greeted him, the Chief Engineer wiping his hands clean on a rag that had seen better days. “What brings you down the dungeon?”
“The dungeon, Commander Wong?” Kyle asked dryly. “I would have thought that was Marshal Khadem’s domain.”
“Nah, we keep our brigs well-lit,” the engineer replied with a grin. “I can’t say the same about every nook and cranny of the Engineering deck.”
“You have robots for those parts,” Kyle pointed out, only to be met with a shrug and another grin. “I need to speak to with Lieutenant-Commander James Russell,” he said finally, concluding that the engineer was irrepressible.
“What’s going on?” Wong asked slowly, stepping away from the controlled chaos of his domain. “Russell’s a good man, though I’ll admit he gets a bit strange around his religion some days.”
“It’s nothing major, yet,” Kyle told him. “But he’s earned himself a counseling session to try and keep it that way.”
The engineer shook his head and sighed.
“I’ve had a chat or two with him myself,” he admitted. “He’s in Sector Four – he’s running some robots checking into that damn flutter in the Stetson stabilizers. It’s still within tolerance, but I won’t rest easy until we find the damn thing.”
“Will it cause issues if I pull him out for an hour or so?” Kyle asked. “I can find him at the end of his watch if you need me to.”
“Nah, I’ll just take it over myself,” Wong replied. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.”
Kyle could think of three or four reasons why having the supervisor of someone he needed to counsel walk him in wasn’t the best idea, but they all fell flat against the simple fact that he didn’t know for sure where Sector Four of the Engineering Deck was.
He followed Wong through Engineering, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. It did fall into place after a moment or two – that collection of monitors and techs was showing the status of every zero point cell aboard the ship and controlling their power draw, while this collection was reviewing the interfacing fields of the Stetson stabilizers, and the other collection was moving positrons between capacitors to make sure none of them overloaded.
Of course, having no less than six major control stations in the same room caused an apparent degree of havoc, which was only exacerbated by the fact that the central chamber was also the main location where the various repair teams and drones crossed over to different sections of the ship.
Wong threaded his way through the chaos with practiced skill, leading Kyle into a side corridor that was, admittedly, noticeably more dimly lit than most of the ship. There were several doors opening off from it, but the Engineer lead him straight to a specific one, and opened it into the Sector Four Drone Control Center.
Kyle followed him into the room, which in many ways resembled the ship’s bridge on a smaller scale. Three techs were sitting at consoles, using a combination of physical and neural interfaces to control the robots running repairs over a twelfth of the ship.
The central chair, from which an officer – in this case, Lieutenant-Commander James Russell – would oversee their work, was empty.
“Kricket,” Wong said sharply, looking at a blond-haired women at one of the consoles. “Where’s Russell?”
The tech looked up, blinking at the unexpected interruption, then glanced over at the center chair.
“He said he was stepping out to grab a coffee,” she told the Chief Engineer. “That was… ten minutes ago?”
“Thank you, Senior Specialist,” Wong said quietly.
By the time Wong had finished speaking, Kyle was back out in the quieter corridor linking Engineering’s side chambers together. His datapad was out and he was already interrogating it for Russell’s location.
His datapad promptly requested authorization. A second after that, it informed him that Lieutenant-Commander James Russell was on duty in Section Four Drone Control – and was physically in the Deck Eight Officers’ Quarters.
The Engineering Deck was Deck Three. Russell was five decks and a quarter of the ship away from where he was supposed to be. But why…?
He ordered the datapad to give him Pendez’s location. It promptly informed him that Maria Pendez was off-duty and, barring a ship-wide alert, accessing her location represented a violation of her privacy.
With a snarl at the layers of authorization he’d normally have just flipped through on his implant, Kyle gave the portable computer his emergency override code.
Lieutenant-Commander Maria Pendez was in the quarters of one Senior Lieutenant Markus Antonio, Tactical Department. Unlike Commander Pendez’s, however, Lieutenant Antonio’s quarters were on Deck Eight.
They were, in fact, in the section that Lieutenant-Commander James Russell had just entered – and had no reason to be in.
“Wong,” Kyle said sharply. “Call Marshal Khadem for me – have him meet me in Deck Eight Officers’ Quarters.”
The engineer looked at him in surprise.
“What’s going on?” he demanded – but Kyle was already on his way.
Under Alcubierre Drive
08:30 September 13, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-001 Avalon – Deck Eight Officers’ Quarters
Lieutenant-Major Khadem met Kyle just outside the hatch that led into the Deck Eight Officers’ Quarters. The dark-skinned man’s face was grim – and he was armed. He and both of the Marines he’d brought with him were in full black shell body armor, with the distinctive shapes of Federation-issue stunners in their hands and pistols on their belts.
“Wong filled me in as much as he knew,” the Ship’s Marshal, the Marine officer in charge of all security aboard Avalon, told Kyle. “We have a problem.”
“I knew that,” Kyle said bluntly. “I doubt Russell is hacking into Senior Lieutenant Antonio’s quarters to congratulate his ex on her choice of partner.”
“A worse problem,” Khadem said flatly, gesturing his Marines to precede them through the door. “As in Lieutenant-Commander James Russell drew a Navy sidearm and four clips of frangible ammunition from the armory stocks last night.”
Kyle stopped in mid-step. He hadn’t expected Russell to be armed.
“How did he manage that?!”
“All Navy officers are authorized to carry a service sidearm on duty,” Khadem pointed out calmly. “Inshallah, none of them will ever use one – and most don’t even carry one unless ordered or specifically required by regs. But no poor Marine Lance Corporal is going to tell a Navy O-4 he can’t draw a sidearm without a damned good reason.”
“Damn,” Kyle muttered. “All right, I’m still going to try to talk to him,” he said grimly, “but you are authorized to stun him if you deem it necessary. Understood?”
“Yes
, sir.”
The two Marines led the way, but Kyle was barely a step behind them as they double-timed down the hallways, deserted an hour and a half into First Shift. Finally, they turned a corner and saw what Kyle presumed to be Senior Lieutenant Markus Antonio’s quarters.
He made that presumption because the control panel next to the door had been removed and the electronic controls physically overridden. The door itself was closed, which made Kyle’s heart beat far too quickly for his peace of mind.
“Marshal, override that door,” he ordered.
Even with its electronic guts hanging down the wall, the door panel responded to the Marshal’s override key. The door slid open, to reveal a frozen tableau out of the worst nightmares Kyle’s imagination had been conjuring on the way up.
James Russell was a small man with pasty white skin and pitch black hair, close-cropped in a spacer’s cut. He wore a partially unfastened shipsuit, and his eyes were wild as he waved the pistol in his hand at the room’s other two occupants.
Maria Pendez was wrapped in the sheets, pressed back against the corner of the wall while Markus Antonio, a bronze-skinned athlete of a man whose completely naked form revealed at least two reasons the Navigator had gone for him, tried to stay between her and Russell.
“Russell, stand the hell down,” Kyle snapped.
“I can’t!” the young officer half-cried. “God demands it – she gave herself to me.”
“I told you what was going on,” Pendez replied, her voice surprisingly level. “It was just fun – you knew that.”
“It wasn’t to me,” Russell replied, the gun wavering madly. There was no way Khadem could stun him without the pistol going off – which might miss Antonio. But might not.
“But you knew it was to her,” Kyle said gently. “You know this isn’t how things work in the Federation, James. Maria told you what you were getting into. Why this?”
Space Carrier Avalon Page 23
