Westren chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”
Just then, Renny returned at his elbow, bearing a small tray of tumblers and a single champagne flute. He held out the tray for each cadet to retrieve one, then raised his own in a salute. “Here’s to all of you not starting an international incident.”
Garam rolled his eyes, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Westren took Renny’s joke, but put a serious flavor to it. “You’ll all do well if you remember my golden rules. You aren’t there to offer your personal opinion. Share your stories, hear their stories. Be interested. If a topic comes up, ask what their opinion is, and discuss that. None of them want to hear your great wisdom. Entertain them, let them stand on their soap box for a while, then move on. You’ll do fine.”
Garam raised his glass in salute. “Aye aye, Sir. Best behavior, and don’t start any wars. That much I can promise.”
***
Tall and slim, Garam had the height but not the weight to truly loom over someone. Like a sapling in the wind, he bent over the regal and currently tolerant Envoy Minister Gloria Esterbrook. “…and he was seconds behind me. What could I do? I said, ‘fuck it’ and dropped five pounds of weight. It was a stupid call in a low-grav race. A few pounds too light, and instead of running I’d be bouncing, right? But I couldn’t let some dirty Dacosi rat win a classic Nocturne race across our own moon!”
Naia Monlier was in the small circle with them. Her silk-gloved hand came up to her mouth, covering it to hide an embarrassed smile at Garam’s audacity. She started to glance around, wondering how she could gracefully escape.
Durgun Olgran was the CEO of a Foundary-based technology institute. He had heard Garam talking from across the room about inducing augmented laser power in weapon systems, and had drifted over with honest interest. Since then, the conversation had devolved rapidly. His estimation of Garam’s intelligence had evaporated as quickly as it had been established.
He totally missed how Gloria’s face tightened even further. She had retrained herself through his crudity, but she was Dacosi Prime’s second highest government official, and not about to stay silent through a slur against her own people. Especially in front of the others present. Ever diplomatic, she offered delicately, “Are you feeling quite well, Cadet? I believe you may be forgetting yourself.”
Garam let out an ugly giggle, totally unrestrained. Totally missing her less-than-subtle hints. “Fuck, no! I remember it like it was yesterday!”
Durgun growled low in his throat, near his tolerance.
Naia’s mouth opened in total shock.
Gloria’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “That is not what I meant.” The politician in her kept the smile locked on her face, but it was more and more fake by the moment.
Her aide was standing just outside the circle, and was not blind to what was happening. Deciding Garam had gone fully past any point of self-salvation, he pressed a firmly diplomatic hand against Garam’s shoulder, dragging him away from the powerful personalities. “You seem to be having an incredible night, aren’t you young man?”
Garam was easily led. “Stars don’t burn as hot as this party! Have you seen who is here? Seriously, some of my fucking idols are here!”
The aide returned a bland smile. “Indeed. For your sake, they won’t remember your astonishing performance. You have a supervisor present, do you not?”
Garam waved vaguely above his head, “Somewhere.” Casting about, Garam finally caught sight of Westren through the crowd. The officer was face-down on a table in a bowl of peanuts. “There he is.”
The aide sighed. “Of course. That explains a lot.”
From out of the crowd came the outrageously furious Harric Zenners. His face was in the same red-color range as a Dacosan tomato, and he flew at Garam like an arrow. Brushing the aide aside, his finger stabbed into Garam’s chest. “Your fault, you bloody peacock!” He shoved Garam back a step, jostling into Durgun again and spilling the business magnate’s drink.
The surprise on Garam’s face twisted toward anger as Harric shoved him. Normally never quick to a fight, Garam shouted back, “What is your problem, Zenners?”
Harric stepped back into his space, getting right in Garam’s face. “Your stupid fucking party in first year! That’s when it all started! I saw it in his eyes. Makaio was into me, and then you introduced him to that fucker Sam and now he might as well not know I exist!”
Spit flung from Harric’s mouth as he ranted. That was enough to boil over Garam’s less-than-perfect restraint. He shoved Harric back. “What? You’re blaming me for that? What, are we in middle school? You never told him!”
“I never had the chance!” Driven by internal demons that had surged to the surface, Harric lashed out. His fist wasn’t well formed. His hand ended up cuffing Garam awkwardly in the side of the head, rather than any sort of damaging blow.
It was enough to stagger the unsteady Garam. He wobbled sideways, his dress shoes sliding on the polished floor. Trying to clear the dazzle from his eyes with a shake of his head, Garam let out a growl and charged back at Harric. His shoulder caught the other cadet in the chest, and pushed him up against a nearby column.
But he wasn’t a fighter, and not even sure why he was angry. His momentum faded, and his only follow-up was a half-hearted shove at Harric’s chest. The sum of his wit was to scream, “Fuck off, Harric! Let it go!”
That did nothing to help. Harric struck out again, this time his punch coming out a little cleaner. He clipped Garam on the jaw, then lowered his shoulder to catch Garam in the belly and lift him off his feet. Taking a couple running strides, he launched Garam into the crowd beyond.
Garam knew he was falling, but the world was little more than spinning mayhem to his dulled, drunk senses. He had no control as he bounced off Durgun’s heavy-gravity solidness, then went collapsing into Naia beside him. Some vague memory of responsibility compelled him to wrap his arms protectively around her as they went spilling off the stairs leading away from the VIP party. Pain lanced through his arm when he took the brunt of several impacts as they tumbled down into the rest of the party.
He never saw security rushing to restrain Harric, and felt only the briefest of soft touches as Naia brushed his face, asking if he was hurt.
His only response was to laugh at the stupid question and then pass out from the pain.
***
Darkness turned to a buzzing fuzz in front of Garam’s eyes, then resolved into the world around him.
It was a strange blend of calm and chaos. The room he was in was quiet, though beyond the walls he could still make out the light music and hushed chatter of a thousand voices that marked a diplomatic party in full swing. He was embraced by the cushions of a sofa stashed in some unknown back-room, but the sofa was too short and narrow for his stature, making him feel close to slipping back onto the floor. The room was spinning terribly, making his gorge rise with the miserable need to vomit. He suppressed it, but only barely. ‘Maybe tumbling to the floor would be for the best. At least that would feel stable!’
A warm hand stroked his face, and he realized the stunning Naia Monlier was crouched next to him. Concern was written over the holovid-star’s face, and it didn’t even look like she was acting. Garam’s mind flickered with his typical sarcasm. ‘Maybe she’s a better actress than I thought.’
He groaned, bringing a smile to grace Naia’s lips. “He’s waking up.”
A weak moan came from a nearby table. Westren was holding his head as if fighting off a head-ache that threatened to tear his world apart. “Oh. Good.”
The hard gravel in Durgun Olgran’s voice didn’t sound like he cared all that much. “Is that all you have to say, you petty excuse for an officer? These two started a fist-fight in the middle of an inter-planetary conference! And these two?” Durgan gave a heavy-shoed kick to Tegue, who was huddled up against the room’s wall. Jeremy was seated next to him, silent and clearly ashamed. “They were found flicking coins into the drinks
of our other guests from the edge of the VIP platform!” Durgan gestured at Tegue. “I am sure everyone enjoyed this one’s critique of Ashwind’s Envoy Minister when he told them to stop! He dropped his trousers and mooned the whole crowd!”
Tegue hung his head into his hands, and looked in as much pain as Westren.
Garam glanced down, trying to take stock of himself. There was an auto-medic nestled around his one arm, and from the ache it was probably shoving nanites into his body to repair a broken arm. Another tube was running off his other arm, and seemed to be pumping his blood through a cleaning unit.
He closed his eyes in pain. How had he let himself get that messed up? He could hardly remember anything, all of it coming in blurred flashes of half-assembled memory. He remembered Harric, and looked around Naia to see him sulking on another nearby sofa, his arms pinned behind his back in security restraints.
Durgun was a burly ball of energy who turned now on a nearby station security officer. “What are you doing about any of this?”
The security officer’s black uniform had a golden name plate emblazoned with the name Andrews, and carried enough markings of rank to make her a supervisor of some sort. “Please, Mr. Olgran. You are only making things worse. I have told you multiple times, these cadets will be dealt with for disrupting such an important evening.”
“Dealt with? How? Their own superior was drunk in a corner while they carried on! Is he going to carry through any charges against them? I know these Navy types. They look out for their own, and cover for each other when things go sideways! Not an honorable one among them!”
The aide to Minister Esterbrook was there. His dark eyes were shrouded in suspicion. “Normally the Envoy Minister is supportive of the Alliance Navy. But she was quite disturbed by what she saw, and I do not have much confidence in this being pursued to the full extent necessary.”
From the far side of the room, Renny Chambers cleared his throat. “Perhaps I can be of service?”
Durgan spun on him, “Keep quiet, Cadet! I don’t have any reason to be angry at you yet.”
Andrews stepped in again, this time her voice a little firmer. “I said that is enough, Mr. Olgran! Your complaint has been registered. We are thankful for logging your testimony of what you saw, and I want to assure you we will pursue this. But I think it is time you made your way back to the party.”
Durgun glared at her, but Andrews was not a cadet. She was used to being security for these events, and facing down large personalities while also covering up more than a few indiscretions by high-ranking people from all over the Alliance. When you saw enough powerful men and women making fools of themselves, it got easier to see past the illusion of them being greater than the average citizen in some way.
Durgun was not one to give in, but he recognized when he wasn’t gaining ground. “I’ll expect a report on how you dealt with this, Captain Andrews. I’ll give you one chance, and if I am not satisfied, rest assured I will not let it go so easily next time.” He stormed from the room.
Esterbrook’s aide had done his best to ignore the tirade and avoided getting ousted from the room. Instead, he spoke to Renny with a more reasonable tone, “What help could you possibly be, young man? You offered, but was that simply bravado? Trying to be heard and play a role?”
Renny didn’t so much as glance at the others, “No. I can help. Navy justice can charge people even when civilian justice systems can’t. I’m embarrassed that they behaved this way. I saw it all happen and am ashamed I couldn’t stop it. If the Academy’s reputation is to be salvaged all, then I must help make sure none of this is covered up. I’ll submit a statement to Captain Andrews. I’ll make sure the real version doesn’t get buried.”
Tegue pried open his eyes, despite the pain the room’s lights gave him, and glared at his fellow cadet. “Loving this, aren’t you?”
Renny smirked back. “I saw all of you losing your nerve from the very start. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep it together. I just didn’t know you would screw up this badly.”
Westren tried to intervene, “Enough, both of you. Mr. Chambers, it is not proper…”
Andrews cut him off. “I am sorry, Lieutenant Commander Westren. Your own conduct this evening makes it impossible for me to trust your opinion. I will accept the help of Cadet Chambers, including his commentary on your own supervision this evening. I will be sending my findings to your chain of Command via the FTL array before the end of the evening. If you wish to salvage at least some of your career and reputation, I suggest you come with me now and draft an apology and explanation on what occurred. If you can remember any of it, that is.”
Esterbrook’s aide looked satisfied now. “Glad to see you have this in hand. I’ll return to the party.” He slipped out.
Andrews addressed the other four guards in the room. “Keep the two exits under watch. None of them leave until I say. Cadet Chambers, come with me as well.” She made for the door.
Westren summoned all the strength and pride left in him, peeled himself out of his chair, and followed her with shoulders kept as square as he could manage.
Chambers flashed them all one last mocking wave as he trailed along behind them. He didn’t look back again, no longer part of their group in any way.
A guard with the name-plate of Tesker rumbled in a deep baritone, “Miz Monlier, I can escort you back to the party if you like?”
Naia gestured for a moment, then leaned in to whisper to Garam. “You stopped me from getting hurt going down the stairs. But you had to start off being a blathering, belligerent idiot, didn’t you? Such a waste of a handsome uniform.” She leaned in further, and placed a warm kiss on his lips. Garam swore she had a few electric leads in her flawless lips, because they sizzled his nerves as they moistened his mouth.
Then, the holo-vid star was pulling back, and whispered, “A hero and a fool at the same time. What a mix.” She vanished from the room with a playful swirl of her silken skirts.
The pain was one thing. Being half-drunk was another. Being kissed by what many would consider one of the most attractive women in the known galaxy was a whole other thing entirely. He felt he had a right to lay there stunned for a little while.
Then, a little longer as he suffered the knowledge that he had acted like a total jackass in front of her.
He squeezed his eyes shut in pain, the last tingle of her kiss finally fading from his lips. “Well, shit.”
Jeremy never swore. Ever the gray man, he never did anything that really drew attention to himself. At that moment, he spoke with more hateful vitriol than Garam had heard from anyone, “Did you see Renny licking their butts? His nose was so far up Andrews’ sphincter, I thought he would crawl right up her colon and set up camp.”
Harric scraped his face, trying to claw away the fuzz blanketing his mind. “I can hardly blame him. I’d want to kick us out of the Academy, too.” A long pause. Then, he managed to mumble, “Sorry for hitting you, Garam. I was out of line. Don’t even know what set me off. Renny said something about -” He cut himself off, then ended with, “- never mind. Doesn’t matter. I just want to forget I ever said anything.”
Garam struggled to stand, but ended up collapsing against the couch’s back in a crunched up sitting position. It was a victory that he didn’t tip back over. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t exactly being a pinnacle of cadet virtue when you came over. Probably deserved to be slugged. Think I was in the middle of telling the most powerful woman in the galaxy that her planet was stupid. You may have saved my life.”
Tegue couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Then how come Naia Monlier kissed you?”
Harric smirked, “Because you were busy showing off the similarity between his ass and his face.”
Tegue threw a pillow at him. Harric didn’t even notice it coming, and took it full in the face.
Garam’s blood-cleansing machine squawked an alarm.
Their dark humor dispersed quickly. Few things were learned as quickly as to take medica
l equipment seriously when it made sounds like that. Jeremy pushed off the wall, in the best shape among them which wasn’t saying much. He wove an unsteady path before collapsing to his knees at Garam’s side on the carpeted floor. Blinking to clear his eyes, he opened the screen and sent a couple queries into the auto-med device.
Then, Jeremy blinked a few more times. Puzzled, he glanced up at Garam, “This can’t be right. Says its scrubbing antersilocyban out of your blood.”
Garam shrugged. “You say that like I passed my level two medical classes.”
“It’s the active psychotropic ingredient in Nocturnan black mushrooms! Garam, were you eating -?”
“What? Of course not! I have never – well, at least, not since I left Nocturne anyway!”
Harric groaned, “Incredible, Anton. You could not have picked a better way to put a nail in our coffin. Those medical records, they’re recorded. You know that, right? Who’s going to believe it just happened to sniff out drugs native to your home world by accident? I don’t even believe you!”
Garam searched the floor in front of him as if answers would grow out of it. “Doesn’t make any sense.” Blood continued to pump through the machine, and his mental pathways grew clearer with each second. Some critical percentage was reached, and a shadow of rational thought found its way back into his brain.
He began to claw at the device, fighting to turn it off and get the needle out of his arm. “Get it out.”
Jeremy tried to calm him, “The sequence isn’t finished! What are you doing? It’s too late! The record is already captured.”
Garam snarled, “I’m not worried about the fucking record, Jeremy! We need to get you hooked up to this thing!”
“What? Why? I mean, sure, I’d love to get rid of this damned hang-over, but I can wait till you’re done -”
Garam cut in, “That’s not the point! I don’t know how long the traces of the drug will last. Not only that, but they might not give any of you the same treatment. We need to find out if any of you have it in you.”
Of Bravery and Bluster Page 9