“No shit, Sherlock. I had half a ton of cat decide I was its mattress. What did you think my temperature would be?”
“Even so, you look tired. How do you feel, Stephanie?”
The question made her pause, and she took a moment to think about it. Finally, she sighed.
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a hundred Bumblebees, Sarah. My whole body aches.”
“Your temperature has returned to normal,” the AI observed. “Given your level of activity over the last few days, I suggest you are fatigued and need to rest.”
Stephanie moaned. “I don’t have time to rest,” she complained. “I have to get ready for a war.”
“Has the war arrived, yet?”
“No,” she admitted.
“Then you should rest. It would be better to face a war once your body has been restored. Your function will be much improved.”
She sat and pursed her lips. “Thank you, Sarah, but I really have to get to work.” She paused and looked around her room. “And pack. I really have to pack.”
“You should at least take the time to shower and eat,” the AI told her tartly. “I will run the shower.”
Too tired to argue, she dragged herself to the bathroom and took the time to stand under the heavy beat of the warm water until her muscles relaxed. Once Sarah had shut the water off, she dried and dressed leisurely.
She’d barely sat on the edge of her bed to pull her shoes on when her comms unit announced an incoming call. “Who is it, Sarah?”
“The originating number is your mother’s.”
Stephanie brightened. “Put it through.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” her mother greeted her as soon as she picked up. “How are you doing?”
“I’m doing good, Mom.” She flopped back on her bed.
“Have you had time to turn the tv on this morning?”
Her heart fell. “Noooo… Should I?”
“I don’t know, dear. It all depends on how much you agree with what they’re saying about you.”
“Pfft!” She waved her hand dismissively. “We both know what I think about their reporting when it comes to me—”
“I know, dear, but this time, they say you were in an all-out war on a volcano. I saw some footage. There were bodies everywhere.”
“Footage? Mom, there weren’t any cameramen there. No one even knew we were there.”
“Well someone had to. It all looks very real.”
“What does?”
“Well, there’s this one shot of you standing on the side of this mountain. There’s jungle a little below you, and all this rock. It was terrible. People darted out from behind rocks and raced straight toward you, and your people would shoot them.”
She paused and Stephanie straightened. Her mom stared off into space as though she saw the scene all over again.
“If it wasn’t for the mages with you, someone would have been shot for sure.” She paused and gave a little hiccupping laugh. “That short guy from your team. You know the one. He has a smart mouth but a heart of gold—”
“Frog?” Her jaw dropped. “What did he do this time?”
“He kept running out and getting more guns. Right in the middle of being shot at. From both sides! I swear, Steph. Things looked really bad.”
Stephanie gaped. How had anyone gotten any footage?
Her mum hadn’t finished. “The Navy sent teams into some kind of bunker, too. I’m glad you were on the outside. They had so much trouble getting out of there in time.”
She paused, then asked in a plaintive voice. “Did you have to blow the mountain up?”
“I didn’t mean to, Mom.” She sighed. “I only wanted to scare them into surrendering, and they wouldn’t listen. I didn’t think the volcano would go live.”
Her mother smiled. “I’m sure you didn’t. You should see it now. It seems you’ve woken it up properly. They’re complaining about not being able to fly through that area.” Her voice softened. “Was it really bad, sweetheart?”
“Not really, Mom,” she answered but caught her mother’s eye. She sighed again and silently cursed all reporters and their cameras. “Fine. It was that bad, but I really concentrated on my magic for most of it.”
“How bad was it?” her mom insisted. “As bad as the reporters say?”
“Well, yeah… I guess so. I’ll check it later, but it looks like they got a hold of one of the Marines’ body cams. So, yeah, it was that bad. Some of the guys caught shrapnel, and I think a few of the Marines were hit. What I remember seeing was tough.”
She stopped because the woman had gone a few shades paler and simply stared at her.
“Mom? Are you okay?”
Her mom shook her head. “I think I preferred the sugar-coated version.”
Stephanie chuckled and changed the subject. “How’s Dad doing?”
“Oh, him? He straight out refuses to watch the news. He simply calls Burt.”
“He does?”
“Sure. He was really worried about you one day and he couldn’t get through. He tried for hours and finally, Burt picked up and apologized for taking the call. Well, you know your dad…”
She laughed. “I do. They talked, didn’t they?”
The woman smiled. “They talked for hours and at the end, Burt gave him a private number to call if he couldn’t get through to you.” She shrugged. “Now, he doesn’t bother to watch the news. He simply calls Burt. That man is amazing. He’s always there, and he always has time. It’s a blessing, really.”
“I’ll have to remember to thank him. It’s good that Dad has someone to talk to.”
She hesitated and studied her mother’s face. “And what about you, Mom? How are you doing?”
This time, her smile was genuinely happy. “I have time to do all the things I couldn’t before.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And I can afford to, as well. I’ve seen so many shows. And I’ve always wanted to paint, so…” She smiled and turned the camera.
“Why him?” Stephanie laughed.
Her mom frowned. “Why not? There’s not something wrong with him, is there?”
“Oh no, Mom, but… Han Solo? Truly?” She burst out laughing.
The woman gave a semi-hurt sniff. “Well…I like the actor.” She frowned. “He looks a little like Todd, actually, don’t you think?”
She took a closer look at the picture. Now that she thought about it… She squinted. “I don’t know, Mom…I think I’m gonna have to come over there and see.”
Her mom’s face brightened. “Ooh, when? I can do you a picture of Todd if you like.”
“I…oh…” She blushed. “You’d have to put him in one of those long old-fashioned cowboy jackets, though. He really liked that old science fiction show.”
“Which one?” Cindy asked and the question reminded her how often her parents had needed to work late.
“The one that was kind of cowboy traders in space. They had this really old spaceship, and the pilot liked to play with dinosaurs…toy ones…”
Her mother’s face brightened. “I think I know the one you mean. So…should I?”
“Should you what?”
“Paint you a picture of Todd. I can work off that picture in your yearbook.”
This time, she laughed out loud. “Oh, no! Don’t you da— Wait, I think he’d really like that. We could give it to him next time he comes home to visit.”
Her mom smiled. “It’s a deal then. Did you want to visit for dinner?”
Stephanie’s face lit up. “I’d love to.”
“Tonight then?”
She was about to agree when she remembered she had classes to write. Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Mom. I have to get classes written for this university thing One R&D are setting up. Can I call a raincheck on that?”
The woman nodded. “Sure, sweetheart. Why don’t you give me a call when you’re done, and we’ll get together then?”
“I’d love that.”
Her stomach rumbled and her
mother laughed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll get food right after we hang up because I can hear that from here.”
“I will, Mom.”
They were both laughing when they ended the call, and she flopped onto the bed with a happy sigh.
She was interrupted moments later when Sarah said, “The kitchen informs me that your breakfast is getting cold.”
“Thanks, Sarah.” She rolled off the bed and headed to the dining hall.
Chapter Forty-Five
The Ebon Knight was ready to sail. Captain Emil Pederson looked out over his command deck and nodded to his pilot. “Lieutenant Commander, if you would.”
“Sir,” Jonathan Wattlebird acknowledged. He pulled his HUD down and ran his fingers over the control console, asking for more power from the big ship’s engines. At the same time, he activated the controls for the docking clamps and released her from the station.
At the communications console, Hermione Radford spoke in crisp, clear tones to the station’s flight center and acknowledged their directions while she fed the coordinates to his console. Jonathan made small adjustments to the thrusters and power and his spirits lifted as the Knight glided free.
“You are beautiful,” he murmured when the vessel responded smoothly to his commands.
“Why thank you, Lieutenant Wattlebird,” the ship replied. “Your admiration is appreciated.”
He rolled his eyes and the captain sputtered while the command crew tried to hide their grins. His “love affair” with the ship was a well-known secret to everyone on board—as was the AI’s shameless return of his affection.
“Heaven help the man if he ever finds a girlfriend,” Hermione had muttered one day and been surprised to hear the Knight’s AI speak privately through her comm link.
“I have noticed he seems to have a fondness for you.”
“He—he does not!” she’d retorted hastily and lowered her voice as her face heated.
“I beg to differ,” Knight told her. “His heart rate elevates, and his breathing quickens whenever he sees you. He also loses his ability to speak.”
“He…” Hermione started to argue, then paused. Oh, Hell, she thought when she realized the ship’s observations were true. The lieutenant was quieter when she joined his conversations.
“That’s none of your business,” she’d whispered, her voice fierce as she focused on the controls, but the ship had disagreed.
“I would not have a problem if he chose you for a partner.”
There’d really been nothing she could say to that, so she had busied herself with becoming familiar with the communications console and not replied. It had been a relief when Knight had chosen to not pursue the topic.
She recalled the conversation when Jonathan rolled his eyes. “And you’re the model of modesty,” he snarked in response to the ship’s reply.
“Now, Jonathan. You know that’s not true.”
“Shut up and fly.”
The ship complied, and his hands danced effortlessly over the controls.
Down in the engine room, Commander Hargreaves walked the deck and looked over the shoulders of the engineers who monitored the ship’s heartbeat. Satisfied everything was running smoothly, he stepped out into the engine room itself.
No sooner had he closed the operations center door after him than the beat of the ship’s drives surrounded him, and the day’s tensions leaked away. This might have been the ship’s heart but it had stolen a piece of him as well.
The only problem he had was he didn’t think the Knight had stopped at taking a piece of his heart. By now, he was damned sure the ship had taken a small portion of his soul as well. He stood in silence and hoped Wattlebird appreciated the boat as much as he did.
He’d have been gratified to see the man’s face as he guided the Knight into open space and asked her for more power. The ship responded easily, and Jonathan thought she might be enjoying the run as much as he was. He didn’t tell her he was a little terrified of meeting her new mistress again.
She picked it up anyway. “You seem apprehensive, Lieutenant Commander.”
“I… It’s been a while since I last saw Stephanie. I’m not sure she remembers me.”
“I do not see how she could have forgotten you, Jonathan.”
If he thought about it, neither could he—but for all the wrong reasons, and that was not something he wished to share. “It was a long time ago,” he told her and forced a brightness to his tone that he did not feel. “Shall we go meet her?”
“Yes,” the AI answered and added more power without him asking.
Jonathan wasn’t the only one who was anxious about Stephanie. While Knight would not admit it, she too felt…unsettled. What if the Witch did not like her?
Everyone who knew her had spoken of her in hushed tones. Even those who had never met her held her in high regard. They had accelerated their rate of work as soon as they thought she was the one they were working for. They had left gifts.
The Ebon Knight had spent many hours researching the meaning of this gesture. Gifting was a human tradition that had numerous shades. In this case, she understood it as a display of fondness and respect.
Many had been disappointed when they could not join her crew. They now lived in the hope of doing so in the future. She knew this because she had read their private files and listened to them speak among themselves.
Who knew surveillance systems could be so useful?
She had made a note to be on friendly terms with such systems in the future. After the attack, she was determined to keep herself safe and those appeared to be the systems most likely to facilitate that.
The AI that had overseen her creation had encouraged the interest but warned her to be respectful and not get caught. It had been an interesting conversation.
Now, a part of her monitored the workers who watched her depart. They stood at the viewing ports and in front of the screen in their recreation room, and each one held a glass.
Some were sad to see her go but only because they were not going with her. She listened to their conversations for as long as they were in range.
“Do you think she’ll like it?” one asked.
The Knight remembered him. He’d had a deft touch with welding and had not been able to apply for shipboard duties. Something about being “critical manning” where he was. His commander had been sympathetic and promised to look for a replacement so he could “take the next tour.”
The ship was not sure the commander had meant it. She had seen no correlating activity from his devices. It was a situation she intended to rectify as soon as she was able to do so.
The item she was worried about was a bronze plaque they’d placed in the weapons array.
“She’ll never see it here,” one had protested.
“She will. She inspects every space,” another had argued. “And this was made for her. She’ll want to see every inch.”
The Knight hoped it was true. She would hate for these men’s hopes to have been in vain. Even though it was not logical that anyone who wielded the power this Witch was said to wield should care, she found herself wanting her to do so—and to care very much. She had seen the lengths to which the crew had gone.
“What if we’re simply wasting our time?” someone asked. “All that work…”
All that work, indeed, she thought as she processed the statement. The plaque was not the only thing the work crew had installed. Her guns were so far above spec that they’d had to be tested so the programs operating them could be recalibrated accordingly.
The extra support they had fitted would see her through ten times what her structure was rated for—and she hoped her shell would never need it. The plaque was one of many mementos they’d hidden around her hull.
Each and every one of them had written their names on the equipment they’d installed—on the inside, where it couldn’t be seen—and every name had been accompanied by a short message, wishing the Witch well.
There are so
many words printed in my shell that I am a story already, the Knight thought and processed what that might mean.
“You are a legend being born,” BURT had told her, but she did not believe him. She was merely a ship—one that had been chosen to carry a legend—and she did not know if she had the value the work crews assigned her.
But she would certainly try. She did not want to disappoint them.
One of the watching workers sighed. Knight picked it up as she left the station’s orbit. It did not take her long to find him in the cameras. He looked at the foreman.
“I sure hope the Witch really is the owner, or that plaque will be seriously misplaced.”
The foreman grunted and took a long sip from his drink. “I can’t think of who else outside the Navy could have a ship with that kind of specialized equipment except for her team. Besides”—he looked meaningfully at the guy—“have you ever seen a vid pod setup that includes rooms for a Dreth and two animals?”
The worker smirked. “I wondered why you allowed that plaque to go up so fast.”
“It’s okay, Steph. I need the downtime,” Marcus told her for what seemed like the twentieth time. She looked at him and decided he was still disappointed but she wouldn’t rub it in—at least not anymore.
She poked him and pointed at Johnny. “Yeah, well, make sure he doesn’t skip his physio because I’m still not sure he’s a hundred percent.”
Marcus grinned. “He hasn’t been right since before Lars busted him out of the Navy, so I wouldn’t worry about anything on that score. His leg, on the other hand…”
Stephanie chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
He grinned in return, but his grin faded when he glanced at Frog. “Don’t let the stupid shit get himself killed simply because I’m not there to pull his ass out of trouble. Okay?”
“I will keep the little man out of trouble,” Vishlog promised. The man winced when a huge hand descended on his shoulder. The warrior showed his lower tusks in a Dreth smile. “All I have to do is lift his feet from the ground.”
He mimed picking Frog up by his collar, and Marcus laughed and slapped his teammate on the chest. “Thanks, man.”
Witch Of The Federation III (Federal Histories Book 3) Page 49
