Dremiks

by Cassandra Davis

  Her hand clenched so hard on the paper-thin computer that it quivered. The taunt tendons in her wrist showed a stark white. The captain reached over and removed the tablet. In the process, he lightly squeezed her fingers. Her eyes darted sideways and saw the expression of concern on his face. Some of the tension went out of her posture as she pulled her hand back and folded it with the other in her lap.

  “It won’t just be Admiral O’Connell and his Earth-bound friends. They would not have left our efforts here to chance.”

  “The sabotage.” It was Swede’s turn to express frustration. “One of the crew has been helping these bastards.” He was so incensed he didn’t immediately apologize for using profanity in front of his senior officers. Ensigns Chi and Robertson quickly looked up, not knowing until that moment about any acts of sabotage.

  “More than one, I’d bet, and at least a few of the colonial delegation.” Maggie’s head swiveled sideways and her mouth parted in a shocked “o” of surprise.

  Brett Hill had already come to the same astounding realization. “Yes. My brother and his lovely wife are most definitely involved. But, we’re getting caught up with details. We need to focus on a plan of action. That we know what is going on, that human conspirators are among us, must not leave this room. We have to ferret out who we can trust in the process of trying to stop whatever end-game they have planned.”

  “If I were to inform the High Council, we could prepare for an attack.”

  The captain paused to consider that option, then, shook his head. “No, they will surely have a spy among the councilors. We risk tipping our hand. We might also alarm those already against our settlement of the planet.”

  “I believe that the High Council needs to answer for this deception.” Dwax’s voice rung with the sharp tones of steel. “Whatever dangers we might now face from these new betrayers were surely compounded by the Council keeping us in ignorance.”

  “Perhaps, and I mean no disrespect, Honored One.” The captain was quick to rush in and head off offending the Dremikian. “But we cannot know if any Dremikians are involved in this larger plot. Even if there are none, their preparations and obvious alarm will be red flags to our enemies.”

  “Sir, I think it is safe to assume that the mine we found on the surface was being worked by the Valtoza. They may still be on the surface, watching us,” Price said.

  “Then we need to be even more cautious.”

  “Who do we trust among the crew?”

  “For now, only the people in this room. There can never again be a time when at least one senior officer is not aboard the Hudson. Swede, I want the engines ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

  The engineer grimaced. “That’s not going to be easy to hide, sir.”

  The captain’s smile held no joy. “I trust in your imaginative use of rigorous training and meticulous work. O’Connell, you’ll need to review the duty roster and then draw up a separate roster of over-watches for the four of us.” He paused and stared at the opposite bulkhead for a long moment before continuing. “We’re wading into unknown waters here. I don’t think it would be much of a leap to assume that this cabal of Valtoza and humans are behind the attempt on O’Connell’s life. Their motives for eliminating her are unclear, but it is in the realm of possibility that having eliminated the chief pilot, they hope to hijack the Hudson with Lieutenant Price flying.”

  The commander bristled. “I’m sorry, sir, but I still do not think that bomb was aimed specifically at me. It’s far more likely I would be used as political bait.”

  “Or you’ve angered the cabal.”

  She glared at Swede. “Yes,” she hissed, “that does seem to be a popular theory. Funny, that they should pause in their quest for domination of several galaxies in order to eliminate one annoying woman.”

  “Perpetually annoying,” the captain added, sotto voice.

  The moment of levity passed quickly, leaving the officers and Dwax staring morosely at each other. Captain Hill wanted to be able to say something inspiring and hope filled. He wanted to see Swede and Price full of purpose and righteous indignation and O’Connell ready to spit nails. The words dried on his tongue. His spirit was as sapped as theirs.

  “We have work to do. Dismissed.” He rose to follow the others from the room.

  “Sir? A moment, please?”

  Wary of being alone with Maggie with his emotions in such disarray, the captain hesitated. When he turned to face her, he stilled his features to remain as expressionless as possible. She was standing at rigid attention.

  “Sir, I think it is dangerous for you to assume that any of us are immune to manipulation by these traitors. It’s your brother and …”

  “Your father.” He stood still, resisting the urge to step closer and tower over her.

  “Assumptions are dangerous, Commander, and I’m not in the habit of making them. Right now, though, I have no choice. If my officers betray me—betray us—then I don’t stand much of a chance.”

  “And what if you betray us?” She whispered the question, a look of bleak, forlorn shock, on her face.

  The captain’s control slipped. He stepped forward. He saw her flinch but he couldn’t control the anger her suggestion awakened. “Then, Commander, you wouldn’t be standing there without fear for your life.”

  They stood, staring at each other across the space of two meters.

  “It’s not me. I’m not the traitor; I swear to you. You have to believe...” The look on the captain’s face had her stuttering.

  “How could you even think I would believe that of you? I demand, no I order, you to get over whatever inferiority complex your father’s actions bring out in you. I need my XO, my O’Connell, and I don’t have time for your sniveling weakness.” His voice echoed in the small space. Her chin came up and she blinked twice. The captain raised a hand but was interrupted by a chime from his chronometer.

  “Physical violence, Commander. I’m not prone to it, but with you…”

  The tension broke when she grinned. “Perpetually annoying, right?”

  “Too right. Dismissed, Commander. We still have a meeting with Queen Khanaa to survive.”

  ***

  Swede pulled up in his stride to match Maggie’s. Her face was flushed and several large chunks of hair escaped her ponytail. She was obviously not on her first lap of the deck. By her scowl, she was also not in the mood for conversation. Still, courtesy demanded he try.

  “Good morning, ma’am.”

  She grunted in response.

  “Meeting with the Queen later today?”

  Another grunt. Swede gave up trying to talk. She obviously needed to run. After far too many nights spent in the corner of spaceport bars, and the mornings spent running off the resulting hangovers, he knew far more than he wished about O’Connell’s moods. The lieutenant understood why a girl dragged all over the planet by her father’s military career would herself seek such a life. She did not want fame or fortune or to emulate her sire. She simply sought order and a measure of stability in a lifestyle that she’d known since birth.

  In stark contrast to the rumors that she tolerated, or instigated, O’Connell didn’t enter into relationships lightly. She was hard to get close to; she wanted trust and dependability from friends and lovers. Most of all, she wanted loyalty. Betrayed by sycophantic officers seeking her father’s favor, and politicians using her as a pawn, once Maggie O’Connell found a loyal friend, she clung to him.

  Her uncompromising loyalty to crew and friends was, by far, her most endearing quality. Swede often feared that loyalty would lead her to harm. She was bull-headed enough to risk her own life in some Quixotic act.

  Like slicing open her arm just to get a bit of information.

  The anger engendered by that thought made Swede want to do three more laps of the deck, but Maggie slowed her pace to a cool-down walk. Face tight with repressed anger, the lieutenant tried to respond calmly when she turned her red head and gave him an assessing look.r />
  “Spit it out, Swede.”

  “I’m trying not to yell it out, ma’am.”

  She stopped moving. Very gently she laid her hand on his arm. He violently shook it off.

  “Mags if I touch you right now…. God help me, I’m so angry and so …”

  “Scared,” she whispered. “You think I’m not?”

  “I don’t know, Mags. Is your best friend in the entire universe intent on sacrificing herself to complete this mission?”

  She blinked. With one searching look she saw the moisture in his blue eyes, the tension along his jaw, the way his hands clenched and relaxed. Unable to admit to being the culprit for that emotional pain, she looked away.

  He took a deep breath. “Remember how sometimes I said it was very hard being your friend? Well, this is one of those times. All the shit we’ve been through together, Mags, this is the one time I’ve ever seriously considered washing my hands of you and your bull-headed idiocy.”

  Turned almost completely away from him, head down, Maggie whispered: “Why don’t you?”

  He ran his hands through his hair before sighing. “Because it rather negates the concept of loyalty that you’re trying so damn hard to personify.”

  Neither spoke. He stared at her shoulders. She stared at the bulkhead, listened to his breathing, and tried to blink away tears.

  “Let me help Mags. Let the captain help. You don’t have to save the entire universe all by yourself. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She nodded once, still unable to face him.

  He wanted to hold her, let her cry on his shoulder, or punch him till he bled. They were standing in the middle of a corridor, though. Swede reached out and tugged once on her ponytail. “You stink, Commander. Better shower before putting on those girl clothes.”

  The sound she made was something between a sob and a laugh. “Finish your run, Lieutenant. You’ll get fat and that pretty little colonist won’t want you anymore.”

  ***

  Fifteen minutes into their second meeting on Kigva, Khanaa waved her arms in a circular motion that Maggie learned meant “follow me”. To clarify, the queen said in raspy English “Walk and talk private to me, Maggie.”

  O’Connell flicked a glance to her captain and took note of his frown. However, she really had no choice but to follow Khanaa out into the arbor beyond the Hall.

  They walked around a corner and were alone. The young trees formed a high hedge barrier. Greenery that reminded Maggie of grapevines twined up the trees and over a lattice that stretched above their heads. Khanaa stopped every few steps to speak to a tree or to straighten a drooping vine.

  Curiosity and nerves were beginning to get the better of Maggie. She opened her mouth twice to speak before choosing to preserve the silence. When they had turned down another moss covered path after five minutes of silent walking, she could wait no longer.

  “Your English is much improved, Queen.”

  Khanaa’s eyes twinkled. “Do you think so? I have been watching your old… movies. I deceive—no, the word is think—I think I prefer your literature. And the poetry…” Her stunted arms thrown akimbo, the Kigvan Queen beamed with happiness. “The words make music. They… sing.”

  Maggie’s laughter was heartfelt and full of joy. “Yes, I thought you would like those. I just wish we had more items converted to your data system. Perhaps by tomorrow night it will be done.”

  Khanaa made a sound that equated to a Kigvan sigh. “I wish your Shakespeare had written more of his fantastic verse. And Basho’s haiku…” Again she seemed overcome with paroxysms of joy. “But, this is not to be the reason for our talking. Humans did not be coming to my home to speak of word songs and culture.”

  Realizing that Khanaa was finally addressing the reason for their visit, and knowing that the success of their mission could very well rest on the outcome of this garden stroll, O’Connell chose her words with care. “You speak the truth, Majesty. I brought my people here to learn as much as we could about the dangers we face. The Dremikians have not been honest with us.”

  Kigvan expressions were hard to interpret, but if Maggie had been asked she would have said that Khanaa’s gaze was shrewdly assessing. “Go on”

  “You could not easily give the information we seek. You had to be forced to do it. The blood oath seemed like the best way.”

  Khanaa folded her arms and blinked. “Does this wound hurt you still?” Seeing O’Connell answer in the negative, she continued. “I could not give all the information you sought, that is correct. Some of it is not mine to tell. It is the way of our people.”

  “Your information has been very helpful, Majesty. But, I need to know what the Dremikians are hiding. I need to know why they did not tell us the truth about the Valtoza. Do you know more of this human conspiracy? “

  The tips of Khanaa’s blue nails slid softly over the extended branch of a yew-like bush. She clicked tonelessly in her native tongue before cutting a quick wink at Maggie. “Yes. Why do the Dremikians need humans? They are a funny people, you know. They are believing that they affront us because they are not ruled by woman as we are. They are to be thinking that having a male ambassador is insulting to me.” She turned her oblong head around to face the plant, again. “I think they have told you this as well, truth? That is why you pretend to be in charge of your Earth vessel and your men.”

  Suddenly, she straightened and made a harsh barking sound. Maggie jumped in alarm and looked around, sure that some form of attack was imminent. Several bushes moved, literally bent sideways out of the way, and two hulking Kigvan males escorted Captain Hill into the alcove. The male Kigvans crossed their arms in deference to their queen before departing. Hill looked flustered and angry.

  “I was speaking at your lady that you and your men are acting like Dremikians, That you are deceiving about being the servants of this lady. You will forgive the... what is your word... curiousness? You will forgive, but we are observant creatures. This woman looks to you before she does anything. I think you command your ship, Captain, and that this woman is a servant of yours.” She waited for Hill’s response. The garden seemed preternaturally still, as if only the breathing of the humans moved the air.

  Captain Hill bowed from the waist. “Your instincts are correct, Queen Khanaa. I am indeed in charge of the ship Hudson which orbits around your planet. Please understand our intent to deceive was not malicious. We decided that you would be more comfortable speaking to a human female.”

  Khanaa rolled her shoulders. She looked from O’Connell to Hill and back again. “She does good, giving orders?”

  Hill moved so that he was shoulder to shoulder with O’Connell. He looked down at her. Maggie was surprised to see a happy expression on her commanding officer’s face. “Yes,” he said in a caressing tone. “She’s very good at being in charge.” He held her gaze for a long moment before returning to his conversation with the queen. “Have we offended Queen Khanaa and her people?”

  Khanaa started walking again. She stopped and turned to peer at Maggie when the commander fell behind while Captain Hill walked abreast of the queen. Hill stopped and motioned for the commander to join them. Once they were all together, the Queen began moving and speaking again.

  “I am thinking that you are the same as Dremikians. You did not deceive to cause wrong, but to save trouble and avoid offending. Both of you make same error. You assume the feelings of others. Assume is right word, yes?”

  Hill nodded sardonically. “Yes, I think assume is the perfect word.”

  “The Dremikians assume that you will not want to help them if you know the whole truth. They study your planet long before they contact you. They know of human nature and make assumptions about your motives. They offer you something in return for help—a trade as you say.” The queen’s look was assessing, again. “And they leave out anything which might offend your thing that you call honor and something else they fear for you to see.”

  “Weakness?” O’Connell’s question
was asked in a hushed tone.

  “You would make a good lady for Kigva, Maggie. Yes. They worry about showing weakness.”

  Captain Hill stopped to peer at the queen’s alien face, trying in vain to understand her myriad expressions. “Human history is rife with examples of people taking advantage of weakness for their own ends. I can understand Dremikian reluctance to share information portraying them as ripe for the picking.”

  “Picking?” The queen clicked her nails. “I do not comprehend.”

  “My apologies. In the language of our people, that word can mean to take advantage of. The Valtoza were the stronger species, weren’t they? Were Dremikians their slaves?”

  “Yes.” The Queen hissed the word, snake like. “But, no. This is difficult to explain. My people have a type of honor as well. We have made treaties with the Dremikians and with Valtoza. We cannot break our treaty unless the honor of the treaty is compromised. The Dremikians have not broken honor with us and the treaty is not broken—yet.” She wind-milled her stubby arms while clicking her nails. “I am liking you and your female. You show courage and,” the queen paused, “I cannot describe this word, but it is a Kigvan thing, and it means a great honor in you. Because I like you, because humans can make good allies, I help as I can.”

  She folded her arms across her torso and bent her knees slightly. “I do not risk the future of my people. I cannot break the honor of our treaties, no matter how much helping I wish to do. I can send my warriors to Dremiks if the peace is threatened. We guarantee the treaty. If there is a new treaty to be made, we can help with this. I have done what I can for you, Captain. You must do the rest.”

  Queen Khanaa turned to O’Connell. A long-nailed finger reached out to snag one of Maggie’s red curls. “You must take care of your frail human form and come back to visit. I wish to speak more of my people and yours. And I wish to speak more of how you control your men.”