Dremiks

by Cassandra Davis

  Fun…the only thing her father had ever done for her was rob her of fun, love, joy, peace. Natalie had given her those things, but the Admiral had worked so very hard to take them right back. She glared at a spot on the wall above the captain’s left shoulder. She wanted to shout. No, she thought, if she was honest, she just wanted to be alone, alone with her thoughts, alone to cry. How very funny was that? She was truly alone in the universe, all but orphaned, without a friend to cry with and she wanted to somehow be more alone?

  Whatever she was thinking about, the captain realized, it wasn’t pleasant. She was painfully rigid in her posture, with tense features. He thought, just for a moment, that she might even cry.

  “What did Ryan do?” He asked the question without thinking, his concern softening his normally crisp tone.

  She blinked, confused. Hadn’t he been taunting her about her father? What the hell was he asking about Ryan for?

  Was that why Ryan passed on the Admiral’s threat? So that I would work harder at finding whoever destroyed the engine? Did you have Ryan handle it so you could appear above such machinations? Worried Ryan phrased the threat a little too strongly, are you? Well next time do your dirty work yourself.

  “He responded to all questions with perfectly reasonable explanations, and I find no evidence of dissemination on his part regarding his motives or locations, sir.” She knew that wasn’t what he meant by his question. He wanted to know how Ryan had upset her, not where Ryan had been during the sabotage. Well, he could chew nails for all she cared.

  Something had changed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Frustrated, he dismissed the commander, then sat staring at the empty space in his ready-room. He shouldn’t have goaded her about her father, but why had his question about Ryan made her so angry? She’d been all but twitching at the end.

  “Damn it, Ryan!” He slammed his hand, palm down, on his desk. His brother was becoming even more of a nuisance.

  ***

  The conversation had to be held in secret, far from prying ears or recording devices.

  “You went against orders. That contingency was intended for later, to keep them at Dremiks.”

  “I had to make a command decision. I was given operational discretion. We were moving too fast.”

  “And now you’re nearly a month ahead of schedule. I fail to see how your idiotic actions helped the situation. You nearly killed everyone on board.”

  “O’Connell exaggerated the danger to the ship. It wasn’t all that serious. She just likes to make herself sound like an exceptional pilot. As for the schedule, it’s not my fault that a jump node was so close to our location. I expected the delay to last six weeks or more. That node wasn’t on any of my charts.”

  “Our allies expect us to reach the planet and mine that lorga. We get their weapons technology in exchange for the lorga and compatible DNA. None of that happens if the Hudson never reaches Dremiks. Do not stray from your mission parameters again, understood?”

  “I’m not the one who’s gone off the reservation. Maybe the Admiral should take this up with his daughter.”

  “Leave controlling O’Connell to her father. Are your orders understood?”

  “For now.”

  Chapter 12

  Lieutenant Price watched the commander give a particularly vicious kick to the hanging bag. Just a month before, he would have seriously considered strolling over and taunting her into a sparring match. He could, at least, be reasonably certain of a victory in that arena. But not today—the commander had been a savage ball of nerves for several weeks. Whatever was troubling her, he wanted nothing to do with it. He didn’t need to come to blows with the senior pilot. While he would certainly survive the initial contact, his career would be finished.

  Tony grabbed his towel and left the gym. The chief’s coffee beckoned, but he needed a shower first. The rest of his day was a marathon of duty rotations and simulator work with the civilian pilots. The civilians needed to be able to navigate between the surface of Dremiks and the Dremikian space station. When the Hudson departed for home, the colonists would be on their own until the Magellan arrived four months later. There were several well-qualified pilots in the colonial group. Tony did not anticipate them having any difficulty.

  All I have to do is survive this tour and I can have my pick of any duty assignment anywhere in the universe. I can marry Holly and not worry about Admiral O’Connell or his witchy daughter again. My own ship someday—something small and maneuverable—without all the baggage…

  Those happy thoughts buoyed his spirit. His mind was occupied with fleshing out the fantasy right up until he arrived for his first bridge-watch of the day. O’Connell was already there and looked less than pleased. Price checked his chronometer, wondering if he was, somehow, late. He wasn’t. He snuck a quick glance at Ensign Chi, but the man seemed to be trying to melt into the bulkheads.

  “Price!” She barked his name as if he was daydreaming, instead of standing before her alert and at attention.

  “Good morning, ma’am. Did I miss a change in the duty roster?” He was just a few inches taller than the commander. Not for the first time he wondered if it was easier to deal with O’Connell while towering above her. Hill and Guttmann certainly never had to deal with her bitchy, green-eyed, glare.

  “You did not. You will, however, be missing your training rotations this afternoon. The simulator has malfunctioned, again. I’ll be spending some time with it this morning, but if I fail to fix the problem before this afternoon, I want you to rip out the AI guidance and go through it line by line. It will be your ass the captain chews if that thing isn’t working right by 1800 tomorrow.”

  1800 the following day was, if Price recalled correctly, the time the captain had scheduled for his personal review of crew and civilian progress on landing simulations. He instantly understood O’Connell’s urgency, and he just as quickly rankled at her tone. Their one simulator and its proper functioning were her responsibility, not his. He took a deep breath, intensely aware that the other occupants of the bridge were listening to every word.

  “As you say, ma’am. I’ll just notify the civilians that their training has been postponed and spend those hours making sure everything is working properly.” He could tell by the look on her face that O’Connell was searching for some reason to reprimand him. He worked hard to keep his features neutral.

  You aren’t going to provoke a confrontation, not today, Commander. Not here. Damn, I really need to have Swede corner her and fix whatever is pissing her off.

  “Right, carry on Lieutenant.” She marched off the bridge without another word. He went through the ritual of relieving Chi of his watch and then flopped into the co-pilot’s seat. His fingers jabbed the keys a little harder than necessary while entering data into the log. Tony really, really, needed to get through this mission so he could get as far away as possible from the irascible O’Connell.

  ***

  Four hours later, the simulator still not working correctly, and her back aching nearly as much as her head, O’Connell stalked into the officers’ mess. The captain and Swede were chatting over the remains of their lunch. The lieutenant stood as she entered, but she waved her hand at him as she walked past. She poured herself some coffee. Then she realized that both men were silent and staring at her.

  “What?” Her voice was rough.

  The captain’s damned eyebrow made a meteoric rise. He looked, pointedly, at the engineer before standing. “I’ll expect that report this evening, Lieutenant.” He glanced back at the commander. She stared stonily back. With a curt nod, the captain left the room.

  Behind him, Swede, who had risen when the captain had, turned to glare at Maggie. She tried to glare back, but quickly looked away. He dropped his chin to his chest and sighed. A few long strides brought him to the door mechanism where he punched in a code, locking the room from the inside. When he turned to face her once more, she was watching him with a cornered, harried, expression.

 
; Long experience being Maggie O’Connell’s friend had taught Swede how to read her moods. Granted, he couldn’t always predict the outcome of her more petulant or angry phases, but he definitely knew what not to do when she needed comfort. Hands jammed in his uniform slacks, the lieutenant leaned on the counter beside her.

  “Simulator still acting up?”

  Her disgusted snort was enough of an answer.

  “Still not sleeping?”

  Maggie stared down into her coffee. Apparently finding no answers in the midnight colored brew, she muttered, “I’m fine, Swede.”

  “If you keep snapping at the captain, you won’t be. Even he has his limits, ma’am. Talk to the doc. She’s a good listener. If nothing else she can give you something to help you sleep.”

  She slammed the mug onto the counter. Head tilted back so she could look at his face, she snarled: “She’s the ship’s doctor, and I’m the XO. I can’t go pouring out my… feelings… to her and then ask for a sleeping aide. I’ll be on stand-down before I leave the medical bay.”

  He knew there was some truth to what she said. “But she’s also your friend.”

  “Is she? It’s hard to tell.”

  “It’s hard being your friend. Give the lady a break.”

  “Ha! Anyway, what do I need her for? I’ve got you to nag me.”

  His expression turned serious. “It’s also exhausting being your friend. You’ll have to deal with my nagging now, since I can’t just meet you in quarters for a late night chat…”

  She shuddered dramatically. “Yeah, having some idiot gossiping about us being lovers is the last headache I need.” She gave him a weak smile. Her mouth opened as she started to say something else, but she was interrupted by her alerter beeping.

  “Damn civilians. Ryan Hill is complaining about the cancelled training session. I just know I’m going to catch hell from the captain about this. Price better get that damned thing fixed.” She gave him a more apologetic look. “I’ve got to go.”

  Swede didn’t watch her unlock the door and leave. He was too busy worrying. It had taken Maggie nearly a week to break down and tell him about her aunt. The lieutenant had met Natalie during a weekend leave not long after he’d taken on the responsibility of being Maggie’s praetorian. She’d found the idea of bodyguards for her niece laudable and laughable at the same time. She’d let Swede know straight away that she didn’t approve of anyone trying to keep Maggie toeing the Admiral’s line. She did, though, approve of Maggie having a friend who could protect her from the Admiral’s enemies and the isolation of being the Admiral’s daughter. In some ways, Natalie had passed him the torch of defending Maggie.

  He knew how much the commander missed her aunt. He also knew she wasn’t going to let anyone else see her pain. She was too conditioned to internalize her emotions and hide any sign of weakness. Unfortunately, for Swede and the rest of the crew, Maggie’s repression of her grief left her in a snarling bad mood that she was taking out on anyone who crossed her path. He felt a nagging concern that there might be something more to the situation—something to account for her excessive anger towards the captain. Whatever that might be, though, O’Connell wasn’t sharing.

  It really was exhausting to be her friend.

  ***

  The captain knew that something, more than the usual, was irking his second in command. He had tried to pry the information out of her as non-confrontationally as possible. If anything, that approach had increased her ire. Failing at cracking the mystery directly, he’d turned his focus on his brother.

  Ryan Hill lounged in a chair across the desk from his brother. He looked relaxed, smug, and amused. A blind, deaf, man would have noticed the increased tension between captain and executive officer. Still reasonably sure that his older brother had no idea why O’Connell was upset, Ryan was enjoying the show.

  “Did you take this up with the Commander?” Ryan was currently annoying his brother by bearing tales of delayed training rotations and irritable pilots. Ryan probably had taken the first opportunity to corner O’Connell and use the threat of complaining to the captain as a bit of blackmail. A tiny sadistic light bloomed in the captain’s mind. He hoped the commander had torn his brother a new orifice. It would be a nice change, having someone else bearing the brunt of her anger.

  “The commander has an attitude problem, Captain.”

  Brett Hill hated how Ryan Hill, perpetually, sneered the word “captain”.

  “Can’t you control one woman?” Before his brother could respond to the taunt, Ryan amended, “Well, at least one officer? I know you are horrible with women, brother, but with all those centuries of military tradition and discipline behind you, you cannot teach your pilots better manners?”

  Captain Hill reminded himself to breathe. He ran through his mental gambit of calming exercises—exercises he’d learned precisely because of his brother’s taunts and actions.

  “I mean, really. If the girl is such a bother, just report her to her father. I hear he’s quite effective at taming this particular shrew.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Ryan knew he’d miscalculated. His brother was shrewdly considering him. Ryan’s mouth, having blundered into the tactical error, clamped shut. From the increased, and thoughtful, calm Brett was exuding, it was clear that a few mental puzzle pieces had just aligned themselves. Ryan swore, mentally, and tried to re-group.

  Brett asked, “Pilots? Plural? Lieutenant Price has not been helpful?”

  “Your lieutenant is more than willing to push the blame off on the commander whenever possible. He’s quite petulant, really.”

  Price was petulant, but he had a perverse sense of honor about crew interactions. The co-pilot would, the captain knew, never stoop to undermining the commander in front of a civilian. Ryan was fishing for a distraction. The captain stored that interesting development for later contemplation.

  “I have a briefing with Dr. Ruger in a few minutes, so I’m afraid you will have to excuse me, Vice Chancellor. I have confidence that the commander will have the simulator fixed as soon as possible.”

  Dismissed, Ryan walked back to his quarters, wondering how much longer he could prolong the rift between his brother and O’Connell. Their spat kept them off-balance and not working together. Ryan needed that situation to continue as long as possible. He needed to consult with his ally among the military crew.

  When his brother left, Captain Hill had to rapidly switch gears and prepare for his briefing with Dr. Ruger. A message blinked for him on his desk display. He stared into space, thinking about O’Connell’s relationship with her father, while his fingers tapped the key to bring up the message. He re-focused and frowned. Dr. Ruger had postponed their meeting. If he hadn’t been absolutely certain that Cassie Ruger was more than a bit intimidated by him, the captain would have thought she was trying to provoke him. This was the third time they had put-off the meeting regarding female crew and civilians reacting to Marissa’s pregnancy.

  ***

  Dr. Ruger stood beside the bulkhead. She was pretending to be fascinated by Commander O’Connell’s work. Mostly, she was thankful to have a few minutes of peace. Their first jump since the engine malfunction had gone off without a hitch. Despite the uneventful jump cycle, there were plenty of patients on her daily schedule. She was also avoiding Captain Hill; Cassie suspected she knew what the captain wanted to discuss, and she could happily wait another few days before having that conversation.

  When the doctor first walked up to this secluded corner of the engineering bay, Lieutenant Guttmann was leaning against a bulkhead smirking slightly. He looked, for all the universe, to be daydreaming. Then the two foot by five foot section of space behind him began making very irate noises.

  Maggie crouched underneath the panel system of the pilots’ flight simulator. Her curses varied in volume from whispers to loud tirades. She was aware of, and further infuriated by, Swede’s lack of concern over her ire. To both the women present, the lieutenant’s only v
isible emotion was amusement. O’Connell crab-walked from underneath the panel. She had to twist at her waist to raise her shoulders past the seat edge and then twist again to stand fully upright.

  “From a medical stand-point, Maggie, the human body really isn’t designed to contort that way.”

  The commander rolled her shoulders to work out a kink. She shot a withering look at Swede and her roommate as she collapsed into the mock-up pilot’s chair. “Well, the engineers who designed this piece of crap didn’t have human physical limitations in mind—as usual.”

  Swede placed a screwdriver in her out-stretched hand. “In all fairness, ma’am, the same engineers who designed this also designed a robot to fix it.”

  Cassie’s eyes widened. “You mean there is a machine to do this? You’re doing all that crouching and bending for the fun of it?”

  Maggie snorted. “Hardly. While the engineers designed the `bot and the pilots certainly need it, the supply clerks—may they rot in hell—decided it was an unnecessary expense.”

  “Damned supply clerks.”

  Cassie watched as both officers shared a moment of silent companionship, joined by their hatred of the nefarious clerks. “So, what is it you’re trying to fix?”

  O’Connell was busy squeezing herself back into the compartment. She grunted in pain and cursed again. “Tell her, Swede. Not enough oxygen down here for me to talk and work.”

  “The oxygen is fine, Mags. Your lungs cannot expand due to the compression of your diaphragm.”

  Maggie very much wanted to lean out and glare at the doctor. She settled for a disgruntled mumble.

  Lieutenant Guttmann laughed. “I think that is the commander’s way of saying ‘No kidding, Doctor’.”

  Tangled red hair poked back out into the open space. “You missed your calling, Swede. You’re a freaking prodigy at translating profanity. Give me back that wire cutter.”

  He handed her the tool and turned his attention back to the doctor. “All flight simulators mimic the basic controlling mechanisms of air and spacecraft. Those are: pitch, yaw, roll, acceleration and deceleration—usually controlled by brakes, flaps, navigational thrusters or a combination thereof. Our simulator…”