by C. R. Daems
“Permission to come aboard, Sir.”
Phillop returned the salute and saw the two guards tense, ready for action. It was amazing the effect she appeared to have on people, from his Captain to the Wasps—he noted the navy and army personnel behind her stood further back than normal while waiting their turn. When the guards had involuntarily tensed, he noticed a small twitch of her lip, as if she were trying to avoid smiling. Yes, she’s more than she appears. He hoped the Captain didn’t break her spirit before she had a chance to prove herself.
Her ID badge had her picture and an imbedded chip containing her orders and a host of additional information by which she could be identified: eye scan, DNA, fingerprints, skeleton x-ray, scars, and tattoos. It also contained something he’d never seen before: her Riss’s human name, a picture that approximated her image name, planet of origin, special medical instructions, and an SAS-Riss contract.
Her ID listed her weight at fifty-four kilo and height at one hundred sixty-five centimeters. It gave her birth planet as Corona, which explained her lighter frame. No doubt the four years at the academy had helped improve her physical strength; however, she remained waif-like and almost appeared undernourished.
“Permission granted. Welcome aboard Lieutenant Reese, I’m Lieutenant Commander Phillop. If you’ll wait one moment, I’ll have Senior Chief Nesstor see you to the Captain’s quarters. He’s indicated he wanted to see you as soon as you arrived,” he informed her, while signaling to a Senior Chief Petty Officer who stood just off to the side. He’d asked Nesstor to stay ready for the Lieutenant. Since she would be his immediate superior, he thought it a good idea for them to have a chance to get acquainted.
“Senior Chief, this is Lieutenant Reese. Please escort her to the Captain’s office and wait to show her to her quarters afterward. Good luck, Lieutenant.” He didn’t add you’ll need it, but he did hope the Captain wouldn’t be too harsh, for her sake and his.
Chapter 6
I didn’t like the idea that the Captain wanted to see me—a new Lieutenant—immediately.
It sometimes helped that Thalia was empathic and could usually sense an individual’s stronger emotions. Thalia’s four years of exposure to humans and my responses made her relatively accurate.
By the hash marks on Nesstor’s sleeve and the ribbons on his chest, the Senior Chief was a twenty-four-year veteran, who’d seen action and been wounded. He had short-cropped gray hair, a rugged face with a square jaw, solid build, which looked to be mostly muscle, and stood a head taller than me.
“Welcome aboard the Peregrine, Lieutenant Reese. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to Captain Gebauer’s office.”
“Senior Chief, what’s your specialty?” I asked, as I followed him across the bay and into the maintenance lift. A Light cruiser had two levels. The top, level two, held the bridge and the Captain’s office.
“I’m responsible for shuttle maintenance, Lieutenant.”
“Does the Captain normally see new Lieutenants the minute they arrive, Chief?”
“No, ma’am, I think you’re unique.” Nesstor smiled, acknowledging the double meaning. Too soon we arrived at the Captain’s office. His door was ajar. When I looked in, the Captain glared back.
“Come in and close the door.” His bass voice sounded gravelly. He didn’t appear pleased to see me.
I stepped into the office, closed the door, snapped to attention, and saluted. “Lieutenant Reese reporting as ordered, Sir.” I stayed braced to attention, since the Captain hadn’t given me permission to relax.
“I don’t want any trouble out of you. Do you understand, Reese?”
“Yes, Sir.” I actually didn’t understand, but that seemed like the only reasonable answer under the circumstances. On the Peregrine, he was lord and master, judge and jury.
“It says here that you’re a Lieutenant. Rubbish! You just graduated the academy and have no experience. To me, you’re just a Junior Grade Lieutenant with no authority to overrule anyone. Is that clear, Reese?”
“Sir, we don’t think we understand your order. Are you saying that we have no authority over the enlisted personnel?”
Captain Gebauer came out of his chair and pounded his desk for emphasis. “Who’s this ‘we,’ Lieutenant? I’m talking to you. Yes, I mean anyone!”
“The ‘we,’ Captain, is the human Nadya Reese and the high-Riss, Snow glistening on the mountain top. May I ask if you’ve read our contract with the SAS, Sir?”
“I don’t care about your damn contract. I’m your superior. You’ll take orders from me!”
“Sir, we’re required to take only legal orders from you or anyone else. You’ve given me an order that’s illegal, violates my contract, and voids it. Specifically paragraph 7a which states and I quote:
“Nadya Reese, a Riss-human, will serve in the SAS Fleet for a period of not less than twenty-five years as a commissioned officer. If for any reason, she loses the rights and privileges of her fleet rank, this contract becomes void. In that case, she will be sent to Saipha where she will remain until such time as Snow glistening on the mountain can be returned to the Riss nation.
“By taking away my authority over enlisted personnel and Junior Grade Lieutenants, you have, without cause, effectively taken away my rights as a Lieutenant. We will notify the appropriate authorities that you’ve voided our contract and that we wish transportation to Saipha,” I said, then turned, preparing to leave.
“Wait!” Gebauer shouted. “Is this an excuse to get rid of that cursed alien?”
“No, Sir. Thalia will be my companion for life, whether I serve in the SAS Fleet or I’m confined to Saipha. The Riss are a magnificent race. They don’t kill other Riss, not once in the last thousand years. Furthermore, I can walk among the Riss without one Riss shunning me or treating me like a piranha. Among humans, I’m lucky when I find one person who treats me like a human. I would be at peace among the Riss. They’re a gentle civilized race.” When I finished, I realized that while I was looking forward to a life in fleet, I would be content on Saipha.
< Proud call you Sister. Make high-Riss proud.>
The Captain stared at me, his face seething with emotion. After an eternity, he spoke.
“Lieutenant, at ease. You’re right. I may have over-reacted. I retract my comment about your authority.” Gebauer re-seated himself. He remained quiet for several minutes, while his fingers tapped his desk. He didn’t look sorry. His face remained red and angry.
“You’re a Lieutenant with the same authority as any other Lieutenant; however, I still believe you’re an inexperienced JG who must be rotated through each section and your performance evaluated. That means if you give a JG or anyone else an order, you damn well better be right. Is that understood?” Gebauer spoke in a more normal voice, although it rose towards the end.
“Yes, Sir,” I replied. I understood the Captain disliked me and would be looking for an opportunity to get rid of me.
“Furthermore, I’m ordering you to stop including that alien when you talk about yourself. It’s ‘I’ not ‘we.’ Does that violate your damn contract?” he hissed.
“No, Sir. Although the SAS has made it clear that I’ve a Riss companion.” I pointed to my tattoo. “There is no way I can pretend she doesn’t exist, Sir.”
“Fine. For this rotation you’ll be responsible for shuttle maintenance, reporting to Lieutenant Commander Phillop. Senior Chief Nesstor’s yo
ur crew chief. In addition, Colonel Quentin, the Wasp Commander, is guarding two Riss-humans who are being returned to Saipha—like you’ll no doubt be, someday soon.”
< Forewarned. Forearmed.>
“You’ll be his interface with them, until we reach Saipha. If you’ve no questions, you’re dismissed,” Gebauer said and turned his attention to his terminal.
I saluted, turned, and headed for the office door. I had lots of questions, but Captain Gebauer didn’t appear in the mood to answer them. He wanted me gone from his office, ship, and the navy.
Chapter 7
Nesstor stood at ease just outside of the Captain’s office. It wouldn’t do for a Senior Chief to be slouching against the corridor wall should someone come by on the way to the bridge. Besides, he didn’t believe this interview would last very long. The Captain was a man of few words. He had some message for the Lieutenant, and it would be short and sweet—or sour as the case may be.
He didn’t know what to think about the new Lieutenant. She looked young enough to be his granddaughter, but he had to admit she carried her waif-like self well. Her hair, tied back in a tail, added to the youthful appearance. The tattoo added an exotic look to her face, which would mature well over time. This meeting with the Captain may tell him a lot about her. The “I want to see this woman as soon as she arrives” didn’t bode well for her. The Captain was very traditional. A Riss-human wouldn’t fit nicely into his world. He didn’t know what to think about the Riss parasite or a human willing to host it. He certainly wouldn’t have volunteered. Of course, everyone in the service learned you didn’t volunteer for anything—you got volunteered. Nesstor tended to ignore rumors and other people’s opinions, reserving judgment for himself. Actions determined a person’s mettle, not words. He’d know soon enough. Phillop had already informed him that she’d be assigned to supervise shuttle maintenance; therefore, she’d be his immediate superior.
The Captain’s shouting interrupted his musing. The temptation to move closer to the door was almost overwhelming but unnecessary. The Captain’s words were clear enough. He didn’t hear the young Lieutenant’s reply, but he did hear the Captain’s response. Few officers scared Nesstor any more. Most gave him the respect his twenty-four year’s experience and rank warranted; however, he wouldn’t have liked to be in the Lieutenant’s shoes right now. The room became silent again. Nesstor would have bet Reese and her Riss had turned to ash. Then he heard “Wait!” and mumbling that sounded suspiciously like the Captain had backed down. The room went quiet again. Several minutes later the door opened, and she exited the room. She looked concerned but not flustered. As she closed the door behind her, he could see it was the Captain who looked flustered.
* * * *
I exited the Captain’s office in turmoil. This assignment would be difficult enough with crewmembers who hated, feared, or distrusted me, without having the Captain among them.
Just then, Nesstor broke into my thoughts.
“How did it go, Lieutenant?” he asked as we walked back down the passageway towards the lift.
“Depends. How do you feel about working for a Riss-human, Senior Chief?”
“I think it’ll be interesting, ma’am. Not many survive a shouting confrontation with the old man. Not that I heard anything, you understand.”
“If you didn’t hear anything, I assume the personnel on the bridge didn’t either?” I nodded towards the bridge, which was less then ten meters from the Captain’s office.
“It’s very noisy on the bridge, ma’am,” Nesstor said, with a straight face. I knew everyone had heard the Captain shouting, although no one would admit it. Everyone would, however, have an opinion about what happened.
“That’s as it should be, Senior Chief. I’d like you to put together a training plan for Thalia and me. I couldn’t hope to supervise a department if she and I didn’t understand what you and your crews do.” I smiled at the chief, who momentarily looked confused. I’d told the Captain I wouldn’t pretend I was anything but what I was—a Riss-human. The more I thought about it, the way to make it normal was by drawing attention to it. I obviously couldn’t hide it.
“Thalia’s my Riss companion, Chief. I thought it best we got that out in the open.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll draw up a list of things you’ll need to know. Then we can see about getting you checked out.”
The Senior Chief showed me to my quarters and then to Colonel Quentin’s office. After a short wait, a corporal informed me the colonel would see me.
I came to a halt in front of his standard-issue steel desk, braced to attention, and saluted. Saluting wasn’t required aboard ship, except in someone’s office.
“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Nadya Reese. Captain Gebauer appointed me as your liaison with the Riss-humans.”
“At ease, Lieutenant. I had an interesting talk with Vice Admiral Zann last week, concerning the Riss-humans being returned to Saipha. I don’t claim to understand it all and I’m grateful to have you here to help.”
“I’ll do what I can, Sir. Can you direct me to where they’re being held?”
“I’ll have Corporal Dalick take you to them. They’re being kept under guard. After you’ve had a chance to meet with them, I’d like you to bring me up to date on their condition and needs.” Quentin was studying me as he spoke. He nodded and signaled to the corporal. “Dalick, take Lieutenant Reese to see our two Riss-human guests.”
Dalick led me through several passageways to a door guarded by two armed Wasps, looking as nervous as I’d felt with the Captain. They snapped to attention as I approached.
“This is Lieutenant Reese. She’s the prisoner’s liaison with the Colonel and to be allowed full access to the Riss-humans,” Dalick said to the ranking guard.
“Sergeant, unlock the door. I’d like to talk to Aldric and Egon.” I felt sorry for Egon but not Aldric. When I entered the room, I was surprised to find both lying on their bunks fully dressed.
The exchange of SV amongst the Riss still made me slightly dizzy. I was still getting used to their manner of communication and couldn’t follow a conversation unless they slowed it down to baby talk.
Thalia went on to explain that the Riss now controlled Aldric and Egon’s mental and physical functions. The humans were effectively comatose. The Riss would maintain control until they returned to Saipha and their Sisters.
“Riss-sisters, if you need anything, ask for me. I’m here to make sure you’re comfortable and left in peace.” I knew they’d understand without the SV.
Thalia translated their reply for me.
I returned to my room after a quick stop at Quentin’s office, changed into work-blues, and made my way back to the shuttle bay, where I found Phillop.
“Sir, Lieutenant Reese reporting for duty. What would you like me to do?”
“Let me give you the grand tour of your new responsibilities, Reese.”
We spent the next two hours walking through the eight shuttle bays. Bay 21 and 22 housed the three shuttles used to visit planet-side; Bays 23 through 27 contained the Peregrine’s twenty Strike fighters; and Bay 28 provided a backup in case one of the bays required repairs. The maintenance crew consisted of sixty engine and electrical-repair seamen, six bay Chiefs, Senior Chief Nesstor, and now me. Phillop had responsibility for shuttle maintenance, engine and shuttle parts, and cargo storage.
“I
understand you asked the Senior Chief to setup a training program for you to learn how to repair our shuttles and fighters,” Phillop said, as we finished the tour. I wasn’t sure whether he was smiling at something funny or questioning my sanity.
“Yes, Sir. I don’t know how I can supervise people if I don’t understand what they do. Besides, I’m naturally curious about almost everything.”
“Just so long as you don’t forget you’re an officer and here to supervise, not to do the actual work. Good luck, Reese,” Phillop said as he headed for his office.
I found Nesstor in Bay 24 with three other mechanics. They stood discussing a problem with one of the Strike fighters. Nesstor introduced me to the three mechanics. The problem seemed to be that the propulsion unit was overheating. I stood and watched for the next two hours, while they ran a number of tests. They finally determined that one of the heat-sensing solenoids had malfunctioned. It took an hour to replace it.
I went to bed content. I had gotten to watch the crew at work, learned something about how the propulsion system worked, saw it repaired, and I met a few people who didn’t hate me. Overall, it had been a good day.
I fell asleep, feeling Thalia’s smile.
Chapter 8
I woke early the next morning and headed for the Wasp’s workout area. The reaction was mixed. Little wonder, I massed about half of the smallest man or woman in the room.
Picking out a quiet corner, I began my ritual of stretches and forms. At the academy, navy cadets were required to take two years of self-defense training. The army officers were required four years of combat training. Only a few studied Si’jin because of the difficulty in finding an instructor. When one was available, they were selective whom they taught. I loved the art and had been lucky to find Masters Talman and Wei.