When the Dust Settled

by Jeannie Meekins

  “It is our way.”

  “It doesn’t have to be.” He rolled away from her and sat up. She slid herself up and sat beside him.

  “You are different from most men.”

  He half smiled. “Where I come from, men have treated women this way for thousands of years. Things are better now, but many still think that way. I believe it’s wrong. Everyone has the right to be accepted for who and what they are.” He turned his head to look at her. “And be free to make their own decisions.”

  His eyes followed her as she lay back down. Her hand slid around to her neck, flicking her long hair away and resting on the sheet near her head. “Then you have your free will,” she told him. “To make your decision.”

  His eyes ran approvingly over her body, taking in every curve. They rested on her heaving breasts before he tore them away and looked into her eyes.

  “As beautiful as you are,” he began, regretting every word he was saying. “I must say no. I need more than physical attraction.”

  She understood.

  She stood up and moved to the window, staring out into the sunshine. He stood up, if only to get off the bed. He had no intention of joining her at the window.

  “Your treaty?” her voice drifted.

  “There’s a war going on out there?”

  “There are always wars.”

  “They’re taking out everything and they’re coming this way.”

  She turned back to him, her voice and demeanour full of assurance. “We will handle them as we have always handled them.”

  “And what if they send females?”

  She stopped and looked at him as though that thought had never occurred to her.

  “You might charm every man in this galaxy, but you have no affect on a woman.”

  He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a disk. “Will you at least look at it?”

  She stared at the disk.

  “I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. And if you don’t want to negotiate with me, that’s fine. But you can’t let your people get wiped out for nothing.” He’d be more than happy to hand her over to Command and let someone back home deal with her. “Please.”

  “We have no warships.”

  “The treaty is not asking anyone to fight.”

  She looked into his eyes, looking for deceit, then took the disk. “I will speak to the Senate Council and we will look at your treaty.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now I am telling you to leave.”

  Their reappearance in the foyer appeased what had become a tense situation. Whatever had gone on was mutually agreeable.

  “Happy now?” McReidy hissed as John contacted the ship for immediate transportation back.

  “Perfectly,” he grinned.

  Dunlop joined them on the bridge. He was as curious as the others and not willing to let John out of his sight. As they took their positions, he hovered over John’s shoulder.

  John was giving nothing away. If he regretted his earlier decision, he knew he would have regretted it more if he had given in.

  “Take us out of orbit, Giacomo.” He didn’t have to think about his orders. They came automatically.

  The ship moved away. The image of the planet on the main screen became smaller, and then disappeared.

  “You know, I’m going to miss that kid.” Dunlop’s statement went unanswered, but not unheard.

  John knew they were all waiting for an explanation of his earlier actions. He was unwilling to give one. As curious as they were, no one was game enough to ask. He guessed what they were thinking. The hint of a smile on his face at their wrong conclusions only appeared to confirm their suspicions.

  “Did we find out anything interesting?” John asked.

  “Not yet.” Dunlop’s whispered voice in his ear was heard by no one else.

  “And you’re not going to,” came the equally quiet reply.

  Back to top

  Chapter eleven

  The star maps began to run out. Small gaps began to appear between known regions and cartography tried to plot in sections as they came across them. An extension to a map might range from a million kilometres to a light month. Even in some of the roughly charted areas, the original maps were only accurate as to what was physically there. Worlds hadn’t been investigated beyond their existence and what long range scans had made of their structures. Whether they were inhabited or not was yet to be seen.

  For John, this was the dangerous part of their mission. Unknown worlds in uncharted systems. This was supposed to be more investigative than anything else: assess the strategic or threat potential. If it was more than likely to have been overrun by Andromedans, it would be left alone.

  John stopped in mid thought. He didn’t need to do all that work. There was someone on board who knew most of this territory. A little persuasion might be necessary, but that wouldn’t be any trouble. His attention settled on McReidy. No trouble at all.

  Giacomo scouted the three planets currently on the main screen and John’s focus shifted back to work. Overlooked the planets may have been, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were deserted. They didn’t need any surprises waiting for them.

  Lifesign scans showed the first two deserted. The third appeared to have life, although it was confined to a small area. With no apparent vegetation on which to sustain itself, it was assumed not to be indigenous. John was tempted to check it out. The composition and pressure of the atmosphere would make human life impossible, even for a short period of time. It was decided wisely to leave it alone.

  The bridge was quiet. Gillespie pulled on a set of earphones, guaranteeing silence, and switched the security systems through the navigational sensors.

  That left Humphries to monitor communications and he quickly crosslinked that console to his.

  Everything appeared to be well under control. John stood up. “Giacomo, you’re in charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” Giacomo confirmed.

  “McReidy, you’re with me. Gillespie…”

  Gillespie caught John’s glance and nodded.

  McReidy followed John from the bridge.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer, avoiding her look, and kept walking. He stopped when they reached the bar and hesitated at the door. He let a breath out and turned to her, meeting outright suspicion.

  “Can you do something for me?” he asked quietly, almost reluctantly.

  “Like what?” One eyebrow dipped.

  “Can you… let your hair down?”

  “Why?”

  “Trust me… please.”

  He was asking, not ordering. His eyes were soft and the small smile was genuine. He wasn’t trying to charm her. They both knew that was impossible.

  Suspicion remained but was overcome by curiosity.

  “Oh, all right.”

  She let her hair down. It dropped limply at first, having been restricted for so long. Running her fingers through it from her neckline, she shook it out and fluffed it up. A quick flick of her head had it bouncing around her shoulders.

  John nodded with satisfaction, unaware that his smile had widened slightly. He opened the door and led her in.

  It was quiet, but that was not unusual at that time of the day. They seated themselves at a table. John was silent, refusing to answer what had not been asked, and waiting.

  Soghra noticed them as soon as they entered. If not both of them, then very definitely McReidy. Trying not to appear too forward, he summoned all his patience and composure.

  John’s slow counting had not reached twenty by the time Soghra was at their table.

  “Lieutenant Commander,” he greeted McReidy. “How lovely to see you again.”

  Her hands were folded on the table. He quickly picked one up and was moving it towards his lips.

  As if she remembered John’s earlier warning, she quickly manoeuvred her hand from his grasp before it reached its target. The hot breath flared from his
nostrils. McReidy pulled away quickly, rubbing at her wrist then slowly up her arm to her elbow.

  “What can I get you?” Soghra asked.

  “Andurian rum,” John answered.

  Soghra jerked around in surprise. He had forgotten or not noticed John’s existence, so captivated had he been.

  “Andurian rum,” John repeated, knowing Soghra had completely forgotten the question.

  “Yes, Commander,” Soghra regained his composure. “And you?” His attention was still focused on McReidy.

  “The same. With Coke and a twist of lemon.”

  Soghra returned to the bar to get their drinks. McReidy folded her arms, still rubbing at her sleeve and tapped her foot under the table.

  Soghra returned momentarily with their drinks and seemed reluctant to leave, placing and replacing the serviette neatly in front of McReidy, adjusting the lemon sprig perched over the rim of her glass and pulling the cloth from across his shoulder and wiping non existent dust from the table.

  “Would you like to join us?” John offered.

  McReidy choked on her drink. Neither man seemed to notice and John was avoiding her look like the plague.

  Soghra quickly grabbed a chair, slamming it down between John and McReidy and throwing himself into it before John could change his mind. He propped his elbows on the table, perpendicular to it. His chin rested in his palms, his curled knuckles curved up along each cheek. His eyes settled on McReidy, who was coughing into the hand covering her mouth and staring straight into her glass.

  “To what do I owe the honour?” Soghra’s question was directed at John, even if his attention wasn’t.

  “It’s pretty quiet at the moment,” John answered casually.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I mean, this whole sector’s pretty quiet.”

  “Most of these worlds are still quite primitive.”

  John smiled to himself. He was right about one thing. Soghra’s knowledge of the galaxy was extensive. However, it was not something he shared readily. He preferred to amuse himself at the expense of others, waiting and watching while someone struggled for days or weeks over an answer he could easily have supplied.

  With his mind distracted, his tongue was looser than usual. For well over fifteen minutes, he talked freely with John, who deliberately kept almost half the conversation away from its main topic.

  McReidy’s mood simmered and she barely listened to them. She played with her drink; stirring the ice chips around with her straw, and taking small, slow sips. Then she took the sprig of lemon from the rim and dropped it into her drink, pushing it to the bottom with her straw. She stabbed at it, attempting to squash out what little juice it had.

  John knew her discomfort. Avoiding her look at all costs, he suddenly felt in sympathy with the lemon.

  He watched while she fingered her straw; noticed how the tips of her long fingers trailed slowly down the length of the glass when she put it down, causing the condensation to trickle after them. He heard the short sharp intake of air and incorrectly believed it to be Soghra.

  “You know,” Soghra paused, changing the subject yet again. “The lieutenant commander doesn’t say very much.”

  McReidy’s eyes lifted from her drink, looking to one then the other, and back again. She blushed as she realised that she had become the topic of conversation.

  “And she blushes so beautifully.”

  John couldn’t help the grin that covered his face. He grimaced slightly as a boot connected with his shin under the table. But he had no immediate counter to Soghra’s comment.

  “I guess we really should be going,” he finally decided.

  “Perhaps the lieutenant commander –”

  “The lieutenant commander has other duties to attend to.” John swallowed the last mouthful of rum, putting his glass down and rising to his feet. The subject was closed; the conversation ended.

  McReidy remained seated. Proving a point, John figured as she swirled the dregs of her drink around in the glass, and slurped a long sip through the straw that was more air than liquid.

  Soghra sighed deeply at their impending departure.

  McReidy put her glass down, pushing it towards Soghra. “Thank you,” she managed politely, then rose slowly to her feet and moved past John towards the door.

  “Commander,” Soghra leaned towards John and lowered his voice. “As much as I enjoyed the company, the next time you want something, try asking.”

  Now it was John’s turn to blush slightly. He glanced to McReidy but her lack of response told him she had moved out of earshot.

  “Captain Decker and I had an… arrangement. I believe that now extends to you. We will discuss it some time.”

  John nodded. His curiosity would have liked to discuss it now. Common sense told him he had other matters more important. He owed McReidy an apology. One he didn’t think she would accept graciously.

  She turned on him as soon as the door closed and they were alone in the corridor. “How dare you do that to me!”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but knew she wasn’t going to let him.

  “Do you know how used I feel? I thought you had some sort of respect. Especially after that incident with Senator Bela. I guess I was wrong.”

  “I –”

  “Don’t interrupt me! I haven’t finished with you!”

  Her hands were clenched in fists by her side. The murderous look in her eyes confirmed the power of restraint that stopped her from hitting him. Enraged, she had a temper to match his own. And he was the only one capable of bringing it out.

  “I’m sorry. It –” he managed to get out.

  “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it.”

  A fist pounded into his chest. He grabbed her wrist in case she decided to do it again and reached for her other one. It was still firmly by her side.

  “You know that striking a superior officer is an offence,” he tried to lighten the mood.

  “When I strike you, you’ll know about it!” she warned.

  “Calm down.”

  “I am calm!”

  No, she wasn’t. John could feel her anger as she pulled against his grip. He refused to let her go. He didn’t want to hurt her, hadn’t meant to. But he now saw that he had. And it was hurt, not anger, that upset her.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think –”

  “That’s just it. You don’t think.”

  She let out a low growl and relaxed a little and he released his grip.

  “If you had asked me first,” she continued. “But then, that never was your strong point.”

  She had him there. She was waiting for an answer that he didn’t have. The anger was gone; the hurt still remained.

  He took a step back, sliding his hand through his hair and over the back of his head.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d get this upset.”

  “It’s not what you did, it’s the way you did it.”

  He opened his mouth to apologise again but her glare cut him off and he changed tack. “Let’s get back to the bridge. We’ve got work to do.”

  Their boots echoed along the silent corridor for a minute before McReidy broke the tension.

  “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you.”

  “Not for a minute.” The comment was directed more at himself.

  *

  Lynn was beside Giacomo at navigation, the two in quiet discussion. He nodded as she pointed to various points on her console, his expression alternating between questioning and understanding. His attention and his hands shifted between navigation and the helm as his soft words had her nodding.

  “Sorry,” Giacomo apologised when he saw McReidy standing off to one side.

  “We’re finished here,” Lynn added, quickly vacating McReidy’s seat.

  John slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a miniature recorder. He had recorded the conversation with Soghra, hoping there would be some useful information put forward about their location and
the peoples they might encounter.

  “Lynn.”

  “Sir?” she turned to John.

  “Log it and map it.” He tossed her the tape and took his chair.

  “Yes, sir.” Lynn caught the tape and headed to the bridge door.

  McReidy took her seat, her mood filtering to Giacomo.

  “Are you all right?” Giacomo asked quietly.

  “Yes. It’s… I’m fine.” She changed her mind, about to say something she didn’t want to. Giacomo was really easy to talk to and quite often she would say something to him that she later wished she hadn’t. He also had enough sense to keep whatever she did say to himself.

  “Can I talk to you?” he ventured.

  “Sure, anytime.”

  “It’s personal.”

  She looked at him curiously for a moment, not quite sure what to make of the request. “In my quarters. Give me an hour after we get off duty.”

  His face lit up. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  It was an anxious Giacomo who beeped McReidy’s door.

  “Come in,” she greeted him.

  His gaze drifted from her face, then immediately hit the floor as he stepped past her.

  She was wearing a cream t-shirt with a floral pattern and a low neckline, and a pair of jeans that hugged her curves perfectly. Her feet were bare. Wispy strands of damp hair refused to sit still and the subtle scent of roses filled the room.

  “Sometimes you just need to get out of your uniform,” she told him.

  He nodded, his hands fidgeting behind his back. His head lifting, he looked around the room.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

  All crew quarters were basically the same but everywhere he looked were the subtle signs of femininity. Even the lighting seemed softer.

  “Thank you. Gillespie got a lot of the stuff for me.” She showed him to a chair.

  He sat down nervously on the edge of the seat. His hands were clasped between his knees to stop fidgeting and his eyes wandered distractedly around the room. “He likes you, you know.”

  McReidy relaxed in a chair opposite. Her elbows rested on the arms, her hands clasped across her stomach and her legs crossed. “Yeah, in a brotherly sort of a way, I suppose.” She hadn’t really thought about it before. “But you didn’t come here to discuss my private life, did you?”