by Sharon Rose
Leonfir launched a tirade against VanDar.
TarKeen pretended to struggle with the strap as he gripped the weapon and thumbed the arming lever. He must take out three men. With surprise, he might get two. The third would try to kill him and Leonfir. His motions must look casual. Time slowed as he turned.
VanDar ranted at Leonfir and didn’t even see TarKeen’s weapon train on him. The blast caught him in the chest.
Motion erupted. As VanDar fell, ShenLee swung around and fired on JedKoom. Someone jostled against MorDen. The same instant, TarKeen swung left, shoving Leonfir behind him. He fired on MorDen just as the rebel aimed at him.
MorDen collapsed, forcing his final word between clenched teeth. “Traitors!”
TarKeen blinked. He was still standing. ShenLee backed toward him, as did LeckLa and some others. The strident hums of weapon fire charged the air.
ShenLee shouted, “Defend our captain!”
Half of the PitKree company encircled TarKeen and Leonfir, their weapons pointed outward. Others wrestled those who still tried to fire. A random flash crossed the gap as one of them tackled a shooter.
ShenLee gasped and fell.
TarKeen’s breath jerked. He forced his gaze around the room. Disarmed rebels cursed the men who twisted their arms and forced them to the floor. He barked the names of a few who had not pointed weapons to the ceiling, and ordered them bound. A man lay curled into a fetal position, gasping. Another clutched his forearm to his chest. ShenLee, her thigh blackened, lay trembling at TarKeen’s feet, as LeckLa murmured comforting words.
The stench of burned flesh stung TarKeen’s nose. He swallowed bile and demanded, “Where else did VanDar deploy armed PitKree?”
“These two access corridors,” LeckLa said. “Some also guard the hallways to Travannesal’s and Pernanyen’s quarters, but they were told not to enter.”
“That’s all?” TarKeen asked.
“I think so,” she said. “All that I heard.”
What an idiot, VanDar had been. “All who are not guarding rebels, un-power your weapons and lay them here.” TarKeen pointed at the floor and watched his orders obeyed. At last, he exhaled an audible breath and turned to meet his captain’s gaze. Eyes that mirrored his own sorrow. TarKeen offered the grip of his weapon. “Captain Leonfir, I return the Epri7 to your command.”
The instant Leonfir took the weapon, TarKeen dropped to his knees beside ShenLee. He touched her face and whispered her name.
She blinked at tears. “No, don’t link with me.” Her words hissed between quivering lips. “It hurts too much to restrain.”
“That is why I will link with you.” He covered her eyes so she wouldn’t see his reaction, then extended his telepathic energy to her. At the onslaught of her pain, he clamped his lips and shook, then he found where it entered her perception and blocked it. He breathed again as her searing pain lessened to a distant throb, then focused his efforts on holding it there.
A doctor arrived but tended more urgent injuries.
TarKeen blocked out every voice. Leonfir had command, and that was all he needed to know. Even after the doctor had time to numb ShenLee’s leg and wrap the wound, TarKeen held her to keep her from worrying over consequences. He covered her eyes and shushed her hearing as their entire company was arrested, bound, and led away. The aftermath of VanDar’s folly would taint none of her memories. If only he could shield her from the crushed hope of a PitKree home-world.
Medical personnel carried ShenLee out. He could no longer protect her. Chaos resolved into brutal reality, engulfing TarKeen in actionless limbo.
Leonfir turned to him. “Stand up, TarKeen.”
He shoved himself to his feet, fighting a strange weight, as though the ship’s spin rate had increased. He straightened his spine but couldn’t lift his gaze from the floor as Leonfir spoke.
“TarKeen, your command authority is suspended. You are confined to quarters without communication. Bind him.”
Laundun guards flanked him and jerked his arms back.
Leonfir’s tone dripped acid. “Embrace the thought that he just saved my life. Charges have not been stated against him. Escort him to his quarters and seal them under my orders.”
Leonfir’s words prevented rough handling, but TarKeen still had to endure shocked stares in the corridors, and worse, the indignity of kneeling before subordinates as they released his arms in his quarters. Just protocol, but it felt like final abasement.
The guards left, and the door closed behind him. For several minutes, he did not move, the gruesome scene vivid within him. VanDar—the catalyst of civil war—dead. What bitter relief! The fool’s death act had destroyed the PitKree hope. TarKeen’s friends…ShenLee! They’d be tried for mutiny and executed. TarKeen’s entire body shook. He lowered his head to the floor between clenched fists. His chest heaved until, at last, his lips pulled back and he vented his impotent fury in a ragged scream.
Chapter Thirty
Kena strolled at Antony’s side, her shoulders shaking. Oh, the stories he told of him and his twin cousins! What a perfect day this was. A reprieve from demands between PitKreelaundun angst and benzlium gathering. “How did your mo—”
An alarm blared, shattering simple pleasures and spiking her heart into overdrive. Kena and Antony broke into a mad dash for navigation command.
The alarm gave place to flat, recorded words. “Dimensional drive failure imminent. Secure passengers. Secure sensitive equipment.”
Drive failure! The ship would drop from dimensional slip within minutes. Near lightspeed, with no course plan. The worst possible navigation scenario.
Crew members strode purposefully. Ahead, a small crowd paused to confer.
Antony shouted, “Clear the hall.”
Crew pressed their backs to the walls, opening a passage. Kena sprinted behind Antony, his long legs consuming the distance. He reached nav command several paces ahead of her.
Elna stood at the directive console, reporting to someone. “Antony just arrived. Oh, and now Kena.”
A junior navigator in the pilot station began moving aside, but Antony, already reviewing screens, laid a hand on his shoulder. “Steady until I tell you.”
Kena touched the command designator. “Elna, take mitigation.”
Antony tapped the junior nav. “Go.”
He jumped up and spun toward Kena.
She pointed to the left. “Get on scanning.”
Hrndl’s voice spoke over the comm system. “Kena has nav command. Kena and Antony, perform dimensional slip exit. Elna, monitor.”
“Hrndl, we need a lot more help with scanning,” Kena said.
“Several navs are on their way. Netlyn will join you soon.”
“Acknowledged. Can we get a time estimate?”
Dhgnr’s voice answered. “Four minutes until drive failure. Three more minutes until forced slip exit.”
Ah, good. Kena strode to Antony’s left and reconfigured the station, excluding most of the dimensional drive controls, since she couldn’t use them anyway. Instead she activated the course design module. She exhaled a slow breath and drew her attention within. Show me the best route, beloved. I’m short on time.
A glow formed in her vision, like a pathway superimposed on her screen. Unusually specific. Kena marked the path for the navs who were hurrying in and claiming stations around the room.
“Focus scans toward this area,” Kena ordered. She compared near space to the glowing path and specified an initial course—just the first couple minutes. “Line up for this, Antony.” Kena labeled a zone with yellow as she said, “Elna, we’ll need extra shielding here.”
The door opened again. Tenelli emfrel. A welcome voice spoke behind Kena. “Netlyn, taking nav command.”
“So nice to hear you,” Kena said. “Please take everyone except Antony and Elna.”
Netlyn stated names and scanning assignments.
Kena ignored them, marking a few more minutes onto the projected course. She highlight
ed another broad area farther out. “Netlyn, give me detail here, please.”
Dhgnr’s voice spoke over the comm system. “One minute to drive failure.”
Tingles coursed from Kena’s spine to fingertips. They’d lose propulsion, and the artificial rift would collapse soon after. Kena ordered, “Dimensional shielding to full.”
“Full shields confirmed,” Elna said.
Netlyn sent an alternate course plan to the display. “Antony, alter to this course.”
Both Kena and Antony sucked in a breath.
This was not the time for course changes! Kena took a quick look. “No, Netlyn. That will put us in trouble a few minutes out.”
“We’ll be slower at that point, and better able to deal with issues.”
“I need one course.” Antony snapped as the door opened. “Whose orders do I follow?”
Hrndl’s voice, steady and calm. “Kena, direct Antony. Netlyn, direct scanning. I have command.”
“Steady on my course,” Kena said, removing Netlyn’s option from the screen.
Hrndl stopped at Kena’s side and studied the course plan as Kena added several more minutes’ worth of detail. Then Hrndl moved toward Netlyn.
Kena blocked out everything except her domain.
Dhgnr’s voice announced, “Drive shutdown in ten seconds.”
More tingles fired through her arms. The display diagrammed nested tunnels, speeding in opposite directions. Their invisible dimensional rift.
Dhgnr said, “Five, four, three, two, one. Shutdown.”
The tunnels jerked, slowing as though sudden friction grabbed at them.
Kena marked an exit point on the course, two minutes out. “I’m going to drop us from slip before the rift collapses.” She kept extending the course plan, using every second available to her. “Antony, are you ready?”
“Ready.”
“Elna?”
“Ready.”
Kena’s hand hovered over the drop button. “In five, four, three, two, one, exit.” She pressed it and ran her finger down the slide-control beside it. “Powering reversal.”
The tunnel diagram shifted again, only the time dimensions still showing. They slid within each other, inseparable, as Antony piloted dead-center through the gradual curve she’d specified.
Kena returned her full attention to course design, marking additions and specifying areas for more detailed scanning. Ten minutes later, she glanced back at Hrndl. “I’m ready for a programmed course, if you’d like to approve it.”
Hrndl stepped nearer and studied the course for a few minutes. “Approved. Implement it. Netlyn, choose six navs to stay here for scanning and specify their tasks. Kena and Antony, stay on duty until I send Tevd to relieve you. Netlyn, as soon as you’re ready, we meet with Ghent in the astro section to figure out what’s next.”
Much of the room cleared, and Tevd arrived a few minutes later.
Antony rested a hand on Kena’s back as they left, ushering her through the door first. It slid shut behind them. Thankfully, the hallway was empty. Kena let her shoulders sag and the confidence slip from her face.
“What’s wrong?” Antony asked.
“I contradicted Netlyn’s order.”
Kena leaned back on her sofa, legs drawn up, as Antony strummed a soothing melody on his guitar. Sweet sounds, but try as she might, she couldn’t enjoy them. Her thoughts cycled in an endless replay of the scene in nav command.
Their computers chimed in unison—command tones.
“Ah, the suspense is over,” she said, touching hers to read the message.
Antony did the same. “A call to Ghent’s consult room,” he said.
“Me to. What a surprise.” She shoved herself to her feet.
Antony propped his guitar in a corner. “Chin up, my dear. You had to make a hard decision in seconds. You did what you believed was right.”
Conversation grew impossible as they walked to Ghent’s consult room. Kena’s stomach clenched as often as she relaxed it. At last, they reached his door, and it slid open.
Hrndl and Netlyn already occupied two of the chairs near the end of Ghent’s half-moon table. Kena sat next to Hrndl, and Antony took the chair on Kena’s right.
“Kena,” Ghent said, “you countermanded a superior. We need to discuss that incident.” He focused on Netlyn.
She shifted forward in her chair and faced Kena. “I realize that I ordered a last-minute change to a high-risk slip exit. Now that we have the luxury of time, the wisdom of that decision could be debated. I do understand why it produced consternation.” She drew a breath. “On the other hand, you countermanded me, Kena. And perhaps worse, you placed our pilot in a state of uncertainty. The entire reason we have a command structure is for these rare moments when orders must be instantly obeyed.”
“Agreed,” Kena said, her voice low. “Command is critical.”
“Yes.” Hrndl nodded. “You have always supported authority in the past and expect the same from other navigators when you hold command. Yet you did contradict her. This is an extraordinarily difficult situation. You must know the penalty specified in the Collaborative’s guidelines. Demotion.” She drew a tight breath. “Which is fitting for insubordination. More so in this case, because Netlyn is new to her position and you are highly respected.”
Kena’s eyebrows rose. “That’s a twist to the conversation I didn’t expect.”
“Do you not know,” Hrndl asked, “that others follow your lead? They will have no more respect for Netlyn than you show her.”
“Netlyn’s authority does not depend on me,” Kena said. “If you think it does, you should maintain my rank at senior, for I can support her more effectively from that level. Regardless, demoting me will not raise her.” Kena shifted her gaze. “Netlyn, if you really think you are short on authority, the only issue is your perception. Authority is granted from above. Yours comes from Hrndl, from Ghent, and from the Collaborative itself. You already have all the authority you need.”
Though Netlyn’s eyes widened, she sat up taller.
“Ah, Kena,” Hrndl murmured, “how is it you can look surprised when I mention your leadership?” She straightened. “First, we must document the details. What was your thought process when you countermanded Netlyn?”
Kena swallowed. She needed to say this right. “During the first moments I was in nav command, the course came to me almost instantly. Much faster than usual.” Her beloved’s subtle presence wrapped her now, as it had in nav command. She relaxed into it. “I was certain Antony could execute that course.”
Kena glanced at Netlyn. “Your order took me by surprise. I thought you’d entrusted the course to me and that I had command of Antony and Elna. But you ordered a course change, so I looked to see what I could make of it.” She spread her hands. “I saw hazards and, with only seconds to spare, I couldn’t perceive a way around them. I wasn’t sure if Antony could pilot us through. I believed the ship—the entire crew—were in danger. I had to choose between opposing demands.”
Kena relaxed her fingers, which had tightened again. “And every moment since then, I have agonized over contradicting the officer in command.”
“It is a serious infraction,” Hrndl said. “Keeping us alive is the highest priority, but in fact, Netlyn’s course was within Antony’s skill level. The hazards were no more significant than in yours, only placed differently. Granted, hindsight is unavailable at the moment of decision, but you created command confusion. Not only at that critical instant, but also in the future. Confusion puts the crew into just as much danger as altering course at the last minute.”
Hrndl shook her head, and her voice fell to a rumble. “I walked into nav command and heard our pilot uncertain of his course! Even if any fault lies with Netlyn, you should not have increased the confusion, Kena.”
“True.”
Hrndl ended a brief silence “Antony, we don’t blame you for anything, certainly not for demanding one course. Your piloting was excellent.”
“I will inform the navigators,” Hrndl said, “that I did not know what either Netlyn or Kena had proposed. I was not approving the decision of either, merely giving you the stability you needed.”
He nodded again.
“What would you have done if I had not entered and Kena did not retract?”
One side of his mouth drew back. “I was never more relieved to have a decision removed than the moment you walked in. And now, you ask me to make it, anyway?”
Hrndl nodded. “I do.”
“Short answer first,” Ghent said. “Would you have followed Netlyn or Kena?”
“Netlyn.” Antony looked to Kena and whispered, “Sorry.”
Kena tried to smile. “Don’t apologize for giving the right answer.”
“It is the necessary answer, all things considered, but I doubt it is the right one.”
“You are obscuring your choice,” Ghent said. “Explain your reasons…and reservations.”
Antony drew a slow breath. “Hrndl mentioned hindsight, but not all of it. How are we positioned in relation to benzlium sources?”
Hrndl’s brow tightened. “Obviously, we can no longer reach our original goal. We’re approaching two possible sources. One, a large group of debris clusters. The other, a planet that appears to have surface deposits of benzlium. Tomorrow, we’ll choose between them.”
“Where would Netlyn’s course have taken us?”
“It was never fully planned,” Hrndl said. “This is not relevant.”
“Yet both you and Netlyn mentioned hindsight in your comments.”
Netlyn fluttered her hand. “We would likely have ended up somewhere on the other side of the debris clusters.”
Antony let a few seconds pass. “My reasons. I always obey whoever holds command, or chaos will reign. But if I cannot review courses, then I will always opt for Kena’s. We navigate the same. We’ve run dozens of sims together, and she knows how I pilot.” He looked to Hrndl and Netlyn. “That’s why you pair us for slip transitions. And also why I was shocked by Netlyn’s choice. But these are not my primary reason. Kena’s course gives us access to two benzlium sources. Netlyn’s variation, although slight, removed one of them.” He turned to Kena. “Were you even looking for benzlium?”