by Britt Ringel
As the meeting began to close, Valokov summarized, “We have no idea how long we will be in t-space or what will be waiting for us in the next system. We must use this down time constructively. Does anyone have any additional items?” The first officer looked expectantly around the table.
Across from Selvaggio, Phoenix’s chief engineer, Marco Romano, said, “We are still encountering the power refractions that we experienced after Sponde.” The kapitan’s frown was easily apparent and he projected the relevant data onto the table’s center briefing screen. “I thought we had solved the problem by revising the subroutines in the power management controls but the root cause must be deeper than we thought.”
Lombardi shook her head. “How can this still be happening, Marco? Phoenix may have three cores but we cannot afford to lose even a small percentage of our power from one of them due to this feedback difficulty.”
The engineer nodded contritely as he said, “I know, Komandor. It has something to do with the damage we took from the ‘Vic defense orbitals in Sponde but the origin eludes me. Yet, I will find the source of the problem… even if it is harder to root out than the quislings of New Milan.”
Selvaggio sat straight up as her blood pressure spiked at the jab to her home world. She thrust a finger at the kapitan and snapped angrily, “I am from New Milan, and not all Milani fought for Hollara during its secession, you elitario.” Her jaws clenched tightly as she spat out, “Many fought for true freedom.”
Romano snorted dismissively while waving his hand as if addressing a child. “Just insignificant proletariat swine—”
“Enough!” Lombardi barked out and brought her fist down, hard, onto the table. “It was not so one-sided, Marco, and New Milan did secede. Our star systems were ripped nearly in half, that is how divided we were.”
Romano growled as he looked at Lombardi, “Why do you stick up for this spazzatura?”
Selvaggio began to stand, hands clenching into fists. Lombardi quickly thrust her hand out toward Selvaggio in an appeal for temperance, her expression a mixture of pleading tinged with sorrow. “Per favore, Diane. Sit.”
It was the regret in Lombardi’s voice that stopped Selvaggio. Before the appeal, her intention had been to reach across the conference table and show the elitist plebian bastard just what New Roma’s underclass was capable of. However, the beseeching nature of Lombardi, a relation to the De Luca family that was among one of the highest regarded families in all of New Roma’s star systems, gave Selvaggio pause. She looked over toward the Hollaran komandor, her hand still out and eyes still imploring her not to react. Showing much restraint, Selvaggio slowly reseated herself.
The immediate catastrophe avoided, Lombardi cast a withering look at her chief engineer. “Kapitan,” she started heatedly, “the woman sitting before you fights bravely for the ethic she believes in, just as her ancestors did generations ago.” The tone of her voice lightened as she explained, “Marco, sooner or later you are going to realize, just as I have, that even if you cannot find value in what they believe, you can respect the strength of their belief.” Her brown eyes swept across the table and penetrated deeply into Selvaggio. “There must come a time when we put aside a war that ripped our souls in two and reconcile with our brothers and sisters. To do otherwise only continues to hurt ourselves.”
Silence dominated the room as Selvaggio asked herself, Is she alone or does all of New Roma want peace with her cast off colonies?
* * *
Vidic and his marines had been trapped in t-space for four days. Although Kite’s leadership had given his now undersized platoon their own rooms and even designated one of Kite’s three gymnasiums as “marine only,” his people were getting jittery. With no prospect for combat in tunnel space, Sierzant Vidic was carefully monitoring the increasing anxiety levels his marines were experiencing. It feels like being behind enemy lines or worse, a prisoner of war, he thought. Despite the mostly fair treatment and amenities on Kite, Vidic could not help but feel like a guest who had overstayed his welcome. Just last night, he heard a confrontation between one of his troopers and a navigator third class in a recreation area over which holo-video to watch. The argument was as ridiculous as it was disturbing. The clock is ticking, Vidic worried. How much time do I have before it runs out?
Less imperative but no less pressing, Vidic looked to the front of the chow line to see if the supply of spicy fajitas was running out. One thing is certain, Vidic thought, the food on Kite is fantastic. Although the Commonwealth provided adequate meals for its fleet, the Brevic Republic apparently took to heart the adage that an army travels on its stomach. Maybe they have better stasis facilities than us or maybe they just use higher quality food to begin with. Maybe it is as simple as having better food preparers. Vidic shrugged absentmindedly. Whatever it is, too much more idle time on Kite and not even the quality of meals will make a difference...
Ahead of him, a tray crashed to the deck. “Don’t push your luck, Hollie. Maybe you marines think you’re something special back on Phoenix but on Kite you’re all just supercargo,” an angry voice carried down the line to Vidic.
“You need to start at the end of the queue, just like everyone else,” a younger voice insisted. That’s Szeregowy Hovat, Vidic identified.
“Or what?” the other voice asked. “You think we’re afraid of you? You’re not so tough. Maybe if you fought a little better, our chief engineer wouldn’t be dead.”
“You probably let our lieutenant die on purpose,” a new voice taunted.
“That’s not true!” Hovat denied. Vidic heard another tray clatter to the deck.
He was moving before he realized it. I had better stop this before it gets out of hand. Ahead, Vidic saw four men wearing engineer badges on their duty uniforms. One of them reached out and pushed Hovat hard on the chest. Hovat’s tray was already at his feet and he could see the Hollaran marine rock back from the shove and instinctively reach out to grab the assaulting hand. A second engineer, also missing his tray, reached for Hovat’s left arm.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Vidic said in a firm but affable tone. “Is there some difficulty?”
Hovat immediately released the first man’s fingers and came to a position of attention. The engineers shifted their weight on their feet hesitantly before the pushy one said, “Yeah, Hollie, this little nothing cut in line and then tried throwing his weight around. The Brevic Navy doesn’t tolerate children with overblown egos on board their ships.” The engineer thrust one shoulder toward Vidic, showing him the three chevrons of a petty officer first class below the crow on his rank insignia. “You better do something about it or we will, Corporal.”
From the corner of his eye, Vidic could see Hovat resisting the temptation to respond. Vidic tapped his chest and then pointed to the young marine while saying, “That is ‘Starzy Sierzant’ and Szeregowy Hovat is the equivalent of a private in your marines—”
“I don’t care who you think he is, he’s got nothing on his sleeve and you only got twin chevrons so you better listen or we’ll make you wish you did.”
I actually out-rank you, Vidic thought angrily. During the first day of travel in t-space, he had ensured he memorized both Brevic naval and marine ranks to avoid the confusion he faced when he first stepped on Kite. Ensign Gables had not been insulted by his unfamiliarity with her rank but he had vowed that he would not repeat his display of ignorance. Of course, his desire to be informed may have been partially because of his infatuation with the Brevic ensign. During their after-action debriefing, he found that not only was the young marine/sailor a hellion in combat but also easy-going out of combat and possessed a contagious enthusiasm. It is silly, Nilis, he had told himself. She is probably ten years younger than you are, she is a sailor… and a ‘Vic! But she possesses a warrior’s spirit and I have always been a sucker for a strong woman. The sooner I am off this ship, the better, he had told himself. Knowing the ensign slightly better now, when Vidic thought back to her profound reaction over t
he death of the lieutenant of engineers, it made his heart ache. He had lost his share of brothers-in-arms too.
Moving his gaze from the engineer’s rank insignia back to his eyes, Vidic took a deep breath to rein in his growing frustration. “You are mistaken, sailor. I watched Szeregowy Hovat join the queue as I entered the room. He did not jump the line.”
The engineer looked at his friends before puffing out his chest. “Says who, ‘Seer-zant? ’ I got three witnesses on my side and unlike you, I serve a purpose on this ship.”
Ensign Gables’ voice rang loudly from across the room. “And what purpose is that, Hoffmann?”
The engineer’s face twisted in momentary confusion and then a brief panic passed over him as he saw Gables rise from her table and stride across the cafeteria. “Is that purpose,” Gables said in a strong voice, “to serve as the example of what happens to Brevic sailors who disgrace our uniform?”
Hoffman raised his hands up in submission. “We’re just joking around, ma’am. No need to get all serious.”
Gables cocked her head. “You know, Ensign Hamilton loves a good joke. Maybe we should let him in on it, eh?” The man shook his head but Gables persisted. “Better yet, let’s share this with Lieutenant Vernay. I’m sure she’ll think this is hilarious and I bet she can find a way to make it even funnier.”
Hoffmann’s eyes widened and the engineer frantically bent down to gather the loose trays. He handed his own over to the young marine while blurting out, “You dropped yours, kid. Here, take mine… me and my friends were just leaving anyway.” Without further word, the engineer and his entourage moved with a sense of purpose toward the door.
After watching them depart, Gables glanced at Vidic and muttered, “Sorry about that, Sierzant.”
Vidic felt his pulse quicken but calmly said, “Thank you, Ensign, and no apology is necessary.” He turned to Hovat. “At ease, Szeregowy. Now, you did not really cut in line, did you?”
The wide-eyed Hollaran private looked quickly between him and Gables and stammered, “No, Sierzant! I waited my turn.” He waited a beat but seeing no further questions were coming, began to move through the lunch line. After a few steps, the marine glumly mumbled, “They said we let that Brevic officer of engineers die on purpose.”
The Brevic ensign, perhaps only a few years older than the private, counseled, “Don’t take it personally, kid. All of Engineering is taking Lieutenant Jackamore’s death hard. He was a hell of an engineer and he took good care of his people. The whole section is in a bit of turmoil right now.”
Hovat heaped a double helping of fajitas on his tray but nodded meekly and said, “Yes, ma’am. I understand, ma’am. But to suggest that a Hollaran Marine not do his duty…”
Ensign Gables stared deeply into Vidic’s eyes before returning her attention to the private. “Look, Hovat. I was three steps from Lieutenant Jackamore when those things covered him. Are you suggesting I failed to do my duty?”
The private braced back to attention hastily, food tray held at a ninety-degree angle. He stared straight ahead and stammered, “No, ma’am! There, there was nothing you could do.”
The ensign lightly pushed Hovat out of the position of attention and forward in the chow line. “The same goes for you. Accept it and drive on, Szeregowy.”
Such resilience, Vidic marveled. Heaven knows I was wrong to doubt this woman’s combat abilities but how does one as young as she have the serenity to accept the deaths that have surrounded her? Vidic loaded his tray and then searched the room. Hovat was moving away toward a trio of Hollaran marines already eating.
“Would you care to join me?” Gables offered.
His blood pressure spiked. A huge mistake, Nilis. You must decline.
Once seated across from her, he ate in silence for several moments. Between mouthfuls, Vidic had trouble not looking at her. She wears the badge of an officer of operations but above that is a set of wings I did not see in the manuals I studied. She has also been decorated; one of those ribbons has the “V” device for valor in combat. Not surprising. You sure can pick them, Nilis. He had held his stare for too long.
“Something on your mind, Sierzant?” she asked while playfully gesturing away from her chest and toward her eyes with her fork.
Vidic felt almost unbearable heat rising in his cheeks. He was barely able to speak. “Apologies, ma’am.”
“Gabes,” she offered with a smile. “We’re off-duty and my friends have called me ‘Gabes’ since I was a spaceman apprentice.”
“I am Nilis.” He arched an eyebrow and returned the smile. “You are prior enlisted? Is that why you wear two occupational badges?”
“Yeah,” she said simply after a swallow. “The bottom one is an Operation’s badge. I served as a damage controlman with Lieutenant Jackamore on our last ship.” She looked down at her silver badges and then across the table to stare at Vidic’s marine badge. “My badges aren’t as fancy as yours.”
He smiled and complimented, “Well, you fight as well as any Hollaran marine. In fact, I would willingly enter combat under your command again.” Vidic hesitated for a few moments before reaching up to unpin a badge from his chest and thrust it toward Gables. “Here. Let this serve as notice to all who see it that you have earned the respect of the Hollaran Marine Corps.” You are making a fool of yourself, he thought. She is a ‘Vic! A shiver of dread quivered through him as he thought, What if she refuses it?
To his relief, Gables reached out to receive the gift. Their hands briefly touched as she accepted the token of respect. She admired it several moments before saying, “Wow, it’s heavier than I thought it would be.”
“Yes. It contains a short-ranged transmitter. You can depress the back of the badge and a signal is broadcast. It is to be used if a marine is cut off from his platoon.”
“What’s the range?”
“Short. Maybe a hundred kilometers by itself but it is a simple signal that can be boosted by most communications transmitters and all Hollaran equipment is designed to detect it.” Vidic smiled. “We call it the ‘idiot switch’ because if you have been cut off from your platoon and have to use it…”
They shared polite laughter over his remark and then settled into silence for several moments. Finally, Vidic asked, “And what is the badge over your Operations one? I do not recognize it.”
Gables finished her drink and replied, “Oh, after I commissioned, I became a fighter pilot.” She ran a finger over the wings of the badge. Her hand then dropped and she stared for a moment at the tabletop, lost in thought.
“Is something wrong?” Vidic questioned.
She shook her head almost wistfully. “Well, I was just thinking that I bet some of your shipmates killed my friends. My flight strafed Phoenix on our way out of Helike.” She shivered slightly. “A brutal three minutes.”
Vidic knew precisely which skirmish she was describing. During ship-to-ship combat, Hollaran marines acted like corpsmen. With little to do during Phoenix’s charge toward the enemy before actual hostilities commenced, he had sat at his battle station and monitored the tactical plot. His stomach had turned sickeningly at the futility of the Brevic fighters’ strafing attack even as gooseflesh had broken out over his arms in respect for their courage. Phoenix had decimated the Brevic fighters. “You were one of very few survivors,” he noted.
“I was lucky,” Gables agreed and looked at him with the haunted eyes of a hardened veteran, “but I’ve always been lucky when it comes to surviving.” Her head dipped back to her plate. “The funny thing is I had originally thought we pilots would get off easy in Helike. You didn’t seem to have any fighters in the system and we were at extreme range when we launched our attack on Salus…” She tripped over her sentence as she realized the admission of guilt. Her eyes jetted up to the man across the table.
Vidic’s tray slid across the table and crashed violently into her own. His glass launched off the table, spilling its contents and shattering on the deck. A heartbeat later, the ma
rine was walking purposefully away from her and toward the exit. A stunned Gables focused squarely on his tunic’s sleeve to the small, thin patch sewn below the Hollaran Commonwealth’s flag. It read “Helike.”
* * *
“Tenente,” the enlisted Hollaran crewmember nodded as he passed by Selvaggio in Phoenix’s Beta Deck.
“Hello,” Selvaggio said quietly as she returned the greeting. The marine barely looked at her before disappearing around a corner.
Selvaggio was walking down Phoenix’s largest deck, moving toward the medical facilities. With the promise of returning to Kite, Selvaggio realized the time for fulfilling her own promise was beginning to run out. I owe him my life, she thought. I must see him one last time.
She moved through the Hollaran ship without an escort. When first released from Medical, Selvaggio had always been provided an escort for obvious reasons. That had changed over the final several days. After the last department head meeting, Lombardi had approached Selvaggio and simply asked her to restrict her movements to the compartments listed on the datapad Lombardi handed her. Phoenix’s captain had then dismissed Selvaggio’s marine escort with a casual smile as she left the room.
To Selvaggio’s shock, the access granted by Lombardi was incredibly generous. Instead of being restricted to a few, vital compartments, Selvaggio nearly had the run of the entire ship. Indeed, only compartments such as Engineering and some weapons areas were off limits. I wouldn’t go to those areas even if I were on Kite… I’d have no reason to, she thought in amazement when discovering the degree of her freedom. Walking alone down one of Phoenix’s passageways brought no more than pleasant greetings and friendly gestures by her shipmates rather than the expected looks of shock or surprise. The fact that she was wearing civilian clothes of Hollaran design may have helped her fit in with the rest of the crew. No one had thought to pack one of her uniforms when she was brought over to Phoenix. As soon as she could stand, Selvaggio had insisted on replacing her medical gown with something that made her feel less vulnerable. When a medical assistant brought her a stripped down Hollaran naval uniform, Selvaggio had balked. Eventually, Kapitan Valokov acquired civilian clothes from a Phoenix crewmember with a similar build for her to wear. Even that ensemble made Selvaggio uncomfortable at the time.