When the Dust Settled

by Jeannie Meekins

  “Problem?” John asked. He wasn’t usually interrupted in the mornings unless there was.

  “No, not really.”

  “Private?” John was on his way to the bridge. If Giacomo wished to speak to him privately he could do so, otherwise they would discuss it on the way.

  “No. I’ve got this accommodation organised and some of the guys aren’t going to like it.”

  “That’s their problem. I assume you asked them in the first place.”

  “That didn’t help.”

  “You’re never going to please everyone. We just don’t have the room. You do the rosters. Organise it so they never see each other. If there’s any complaints, tell them they can bunk in the brig.”

  The small smirk that crossed Giacomo’s face made John frown slightly. There were obviously going to be some very unpopular arrangements.

  McReidy searched John for a hint of his mood when she arrived on the bridge. A quick glance told her nothing was unusual. Any longer and she would have stirred his curiosity.

  “What did he say?” she whispered to Giacomo.

  “I didn’t exactly tell him,” Giacomo confessed.

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened a little at the anticipated outburst.

  “Giacomo, McReidy.”

  They turned around together, both feeling as guilty as possible.

  “I believe you both have some things to attend to. Send me up a pilot and –” John cut himself off and turned to Gillespie. “Mister Gillespie, would you like the helm?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Gillespie grinned. He wasn’t the greatest pilot in the world, but he loved the thrill of being in control.

  John nodded and turned back to Giacomo and McReidy. “Send me up a couple of crew who aren’t in the process of moving.”

  To say that the rest of the day was disruptive was putting it mildly. Giacomo used John’s authority, and his words, to his own use. Although he was not challenged openly, the glares and mutterings he couldn’t quite hear told him of his unpopularity.

  The women were not as subtle, verbally shrieking their discontent at McReidy until she turned it back on them. Nobody liked the idea of moving. There was hardly enough room for anyone’s gear as it was without having to make way for someone else. As for the thought of alien ambassadors being in their quarters – who knew what condition they would leave them in!

  “If you take all your stuff out, there won’t be anything for them to get into,” McReidy tried to explain. She should have had more sense than to try to explain. She wished she had a copy of Giacomo’s new duty roster for the rest of the week. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had time to change it, although he had mentioned his intention of doing so.

  In the end, McReidy had had enough and used her authority. The accommodations would remain as she had organised and there would be no arguing. Anyone who had not abided by the evening would be moved forcibly. There was enough room on the ship to keep out of each other’s way. And if there was one more word about it, there would be hell to pay.

  The women were silent. Never before had McReidy so powerfully ordered them into submission.

  It was a good feeling. She sighed heavily and turned away before any of them could see the smile that was quickly surfacing. She left them in silence to do what they had to.

  She should return to the bridge, she knew that. The girls had stirred her up, made her angry, and right now she was not in the right frame of mind to work. She had already reorganised her quarters for Lorraine and Kat. She had done that last night after Giacomo left. Last night, early morning – whatever the correct time had been.

  She headed to the bar. She needed a little time to simmer down and relax. After all, John didn’t know how long it would take to “attend to other things”, she rearranged his own words slightly.

  Giacomo was already there, sitting on his own. Not surprising, considering how unpopular he had just made himself. The bar was empty and he looked up as he heard the door open.

  She went to his table and sat down.

  “Coffee,” he explained as he wrapped both hands around the mug and took a sip. His elbows were propped on the table; the mug lowered no further. “We’re not allowed to drink on duty.” The tone told her he would have liked to.

  “You got them all moved?” she asked a little shocked.

  He nodded.

  He was more efficient than she would have given him credit for.

  Soghra was at the table.

  “Coffee… strong,” McReidy ordered.

  “Sweeter than usual also?” Soghra didn’t miss an opportunity.

  McReidy didn’t miss the double meaning. “The same as usual,” she told him in a level voice. She flashed a glare at Giacomo, who hid a smirk behind another mouthful of coffee.

  “He never gives up,” Giacomo observed, a quick glance to make sure Soghra was out of earshot.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve changed the rosters?” McReidy asked.

  “Nope. But I’ve got plenty of peace and quiet in here to do it now.”

  They were silent as Soghra returned with McReidy’s coffee. She saw the little gleam in Giacomo’s eye. It brought a smile to her face, making them both giggle as they shared a private joke at Soghra’s expense.

  “Giacomo, you’re incorrigible. Now behave yourself,” she told him.

  She stayed there with him. It was quiet, pleasant, and she enjoyed his company. She had become used to him. He was comfortable to be around. Not the slightest bit threatening, as some men were, to her peace of mind. But then, he only had eyes for Lorraine.

  The bridge was not as disruptive as the rest of the ship. No one was willing to show the slightest discontent around John. A few crew changes during the day were the only indications that something was going on.

  * * *

  John decided to spend the evening brushing up on his protocol. He had to be familiar with the customs and behaviours of his ‘guests’. Arans were easy enough. They seemed to rely on common sense – something that was seriously lacking in a lot of other cultures. They’d had no issues with the delay and had appeared to be looking forward to the talks.

  The worlds beyond Aran, he’d not encountered. He had to rely on what Command had provided. There was nothing new to their original list. If anything, a few worlds had been taken out. He figured lost cause or someone else was dealing with them.

  He was not looking forward to the return to Lushon. Those women could wreak more havoc on his ship than he was capable of handling.

  The door to his quarters opened unexpectedly. It wasn’t locked but he expected everyone to have the decency to beep. He was laying on the lounge. He lifted himself enough to be able to see over the back of it.

  Gillespie strode to the middle of the room and tossed his bag to the floor. “Hi, roomie.”

  John jerked himself upright, his reports falling to the floor. “What do you mean ‘roomie’?” he demanded.

  “I’ve been kicked out of my place.” Gillespie put his hands on his hips and looked around. “Where do you want me to put my stuff?”

  John didn’t answer him. He switched on his communicator. “Giacomo!” he roared.

  “Just obeying your orders, sir,” came the unflinching reply. Giacomo had expected the outburst and was prepared for it.

  John groaned and got to his feet. This was not what he had expected. He remembered Giacomo telling him that some people would not be happy. He also remembered his own answer. There was nothing he could do about it now. He decided to lay out the ground rules.

  “I work with you all day. I even socialise with you occasionally. But I cannot stand being around you twenty four hours a day.”

  “You’re no picnic either.”

  “Then we understand each other?”

  “Perfectly.”

  No sooner had they come to an agreement than Dunlop arrived. “I’ve got to put up with both of you, do I?” he summed up the situation immediately.

  “I’m out of here.” John re
alised he would get no peace. He left Gillespie and Dunlop to settle in, hoping like mad that they were the only ones Giacomo had stuck him with. Had he been warned, he might have made room. No – had he been warned he would have made sure it never happened!

  He made his way to the bar, hoping to get some time to himself. He was sadly disappointed. It seemed that everyone else had thought the same thing.

  John didn’t know whether it was authority or intimidation that cleared a table for him. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. He had his reports, and a set of earphones that enabled him privacy. If he closed his eyes, he had the illusion of being alone.

  If he closed his eyes, he would fall asleep! There was nothing exciting about studying protocol. The only major decision he made was coffee or rum. He decided on the former. It was too easy to misinterpret the minor technicalities if he allowed himself to become too relaxed.

  He was unaware of time passing. Behaviour was excellent and he wasn’t required to settle any disputes. He was entirely in a world of his own that extended no further than arm’s reach.

  He sensed McReidy’s presence before he saw her. She wasn’t in the best of moods. He slid the earphones down around his neck, switching off the tape with the other hand. “Problem?”

  “Not exactly.”

  He knew that meant yes, and indicated that she take a seat. ‘Not exactly’ – that usually meant that he was her problem. “What’s up?”

  “I think you’re being unfair on Giacomo.”

  “This is not the place to discuss this.” If he had to discuss crewmembers it was not going to be within earshot of anyone else. It looked like McReidy had some serious grievances. He stood up. “My place… no, wait a minute, I’ve got Gillespie and Dunlop in there… Which I assume you already knew about.”

  He could tell from the look on her face when he mentioned their names that she did.

  She nodded in confirmation.

  “I take it that means your place is also full?”

  She nodded again.

  He didn’t like the idea of invading the bridge to get to his office. He glanced around. The bar was reasonably quiet. Against his better judgement, he sat back down and quietly asked, “What about Giacomo?”

  “You ask too much of him.”

  “Do I?” One brow raised as he wondered just how much she was aware of.

  “Yes. You give him the tough decisions and then you don’t support him.”

  “He has my full support on any decisions he makes.”

  “Then why do you let the rest of the crew dispute him?”

  John was quiet for a moment while he summed her up. He took a second glance at the numbers in the room and kept his voice low. “Captain Barrett never asked you to make unpopular decisions?”

  “Yes, but –”

  “And who did you confide in when you thought he was being unfair?” He already knew the answer.

  “Steve, but –”

  “But what?” He propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his palms. His dark eyes were level with hers.

  “Captain Barrett was always there to fall back on. He was as loyal and supportive of his officers as they were of him.” Her voice trailed off.

  The amused look in his eyes told her he knew perfectly well what she was only beginning to understand.

  “Giacomo’s different. He doesn’t want to use you every time he has a disagreement.”

  “Smart man.”

  The comment only seemed to infuriate her. “He needs your authority.”

  “No.” One fist dropped to the table, emphasising his seriousness. “He needs his own authority.” The other hand came down and tucked behind his elbow. He inched his chair in closer and leaned forward slightly. “I could order everyone on this ship to obey him without question. What good does that do him? When he leaves here, that puts him right back in the same position. Actually worse, because he’ll have a false sense of security.”

  He stopped for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

  “He’s got to earn their respect on his own. Then they’ll obey him without question. He can’t afford to think about their personal feelings when he starts sending men off to their deaths. He hasn’t got it in him at the moment. Quite frankly, neither have you. And I don’t know if you ever will.”

  “You have that high an opinion of him?”

  “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be so… unfair on him, as you put it.” He deliberately chose to use her words. “He will make one hell of a ship’s captain, but he’s got to learn to get it right. Here. Once he gets that power – and however you look at it, that’s exactly what it is. Power. That’s when I’ll ease up on him.”

  He seemed to have shocked her into silence. It was definitely not the type of subject that should be discussed in the bar.

  He leaned back, relaxing into his chair while she took in his words.

  “You got yours the hard way.” His eyes teased, knowing she couldn’t resist.

  “What do you mean?”

  “By taking me on. It wasn’t your rank that enabled you to start giving orders. No one gets away with taking me on around here and survives for long. Unless they happen to be occasionally right.”

  “Steve does.”

  “He knows how far to push me, and when to back off.”

  A number of expressions crossed her face.

  He guessed at her dilemma. “Go ask Steve. I told you once before not to try and figure me out,” he smiled.

  The smile was disarming; he loved teasing her. Go ask Steve! He felt what she really wanted to do was climb over the table, fling him to the floor and demand an answer. That would set a really good example for the crew!

  And if she did, he would answer her.

  She was still finding her feet amongst the crew. Although they obeyed her and showed her respect, there was something that kept her apart. Gillespie and Kowalski had fitted in easily. She probably thought it was because she was a woman and that no matter how much things had changed there were still some men with outdated views – even though he’d had to knock some sense into a couple of them over the years. That theory was only partly true, because some of the women had taken the longest to accept her.

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  Chapter twenty one

  The Arans were easy enough. They forgave John the slight discretion of being partially unfamiliar with their intricacies as he stumbled over his introductory speech. They were pleased with their quarters. A quick tour of the ship familiarised them with areas they were permitted free access to.

  They were sensible. It was the only word John could use to describe them. They respected the fact that he had other duties to attend to and detained him no longer than was necessary. If all peoples had the same sort of attitude then the galaxy would be a lot better off.

  The next few pickups were mixed. The Pothids kept to themselves and had very little contact with anyone else. Occasionally, they ventured out for meals. A polite request and John obliged them and had meals delivered to their quarters.

  The Cetoids had a natural aroma of wet dog. Maintaining a pleasant countenance while the aroma slowly enveloped and filtered nose, throat, eyes and pores sent most of the crew straight to the shower after any prolonged interaction.

  Finook and the Fillarmars assumed an air of superiority over everyone and everything. They were the first to complain about the inadequacy of their quarters, the lack of decent food and the inferior company.

  “You want to pump some knockout gas into their quarters?” McReidy asked as John returned to the bridge fuming after yet another complaint.

  He sank into his chair, appreciating her levity as his mood simmered. “Don’t tempt me.”

  More pickups and the ship was filling up.

  The Senate delegation from Lushon were to cause as much trouble as John had anticipated. Despite the fact that Bela had promised they would leave the men alone, it was impossible for them to go anywhere without causing distraction. Not only amongst the
crew, but for a few other races. And while the crew were respectful and fell back on correctness, some of the others did not.

  Finook simply assumed his air of superiority and tried to claim whatever he felt was his. Caught at the door, trying to hack into Bela’s quarters, he was unapologetic.

  Humphries turned up for duty one night with a bump on his head. He had accidentally walked into a wall when two of Bela’s companions passed him in a corridor. No one else would admit it, but he wasn’t the only one to do so.

  Giacomo knew better and kept well away. He caused suspicions in Lorraine, but that was preferable to another black eye. It didn’t take long for her to realise what was happening and she admired his restraint. Even if it did mean resorting to her for protection on the few occasions he did run into them.

  They had been on board less than forty eight hours. They seemed completely oblivious to the jealousies they stirred in the female crewmembers. Relationships were on the brink of destruction.

  John caught up with Bela in the dining room for breakfast and reminded her of her promise. She had not broken it. It was not her fault if her women were naturally beautiful. They were not using their seductive charms on anyone – he knew the resultant outcome of that. He was the one who would have to maintain better control over his crewmen.

  “And Ambassador Finook?” he asked.

  She relaxed in her chair, a forkful of fruit salad playing on her bottom lip, a drop of juice falling back into her bowl. “I can handle Finook.”

  He stood up to leave.

  “Not eating, Commander?” she queried innocently.

  “I have work to attend to,” he answered.

  As he left the dining room, the smell of wet dog reached him and he quickly ducked down the opposite corridor.

  Regardless of her promise, John had the feeling that Bela had set her sights on him. She tagged him every chance she got. He barely had a moment of free time that he didn’t have to watch out for her. She was employing the old fashioned subtle methods of getting him – the ones women had used for millions of years.

  Off duty, the only place he felt sure of himself was in his own quarters. She wasn’t forward enough to make that direct an approach.