“Damn, that was bright!” his friend exclaimed.
As his heartbeat slowed, he realized how foolish his behavior must appear. Moaning, Bassa pulled his body upright and swung his feet to the floor. Embarrassed by his display of insecurity, Bassa covered his face with his hand.
“Sorry,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.
“It’s all right. You just startled me. Are you all right now?”
“I’m fine,” he answered, rising to his feet.
Bassa stepped into the bathroom to splash water on his face, taking a moment to clear his head. Once he felt in control of his thoughts, he returned to his bed and forced his muscles to relax. Doubt continued to nag at Bassa, though. What if his senses didn’t return?
Chapter Thirteen
In the morning, Byron was pleased to discover food waiting when he emerged from the shower. Hunger overruled all other considerations and the men consumed their meal in silence.
Byron suspected his navigator still felt awkward regarding last night’s rude awakening. Bassa’s moment of panic had unnerved him. The loss of his senses had frightened his friend in the medical facility as well. This turn of events troubled Byron. The man never displayed fear, not even in the most dire of situations in the cockpit. The most stable and assured person in his life was coming undone and this worried him.
Finishing his food, Byron leaned away from the table. They needed to test Bassa’s senses soon. He waited until his friend had set down his fork before broaching the subject.
“Feeling anything yet?” he asked, shifting in his chair.
Bassa’s gaze dropped to the table’s surface and his brows came together. His frown deepened and he shook his head in disgust.
“Nothing,” he growled, leaning his elbows on the table. Bassa rubbed his forehead and sighed.
“Try again,” Byron prompted, pushing aside his tray.
Setting his jaw, Bassa closed his eyes to concentrate. Byron watched with a hopeful heart, willing his friend’s powers to return. Bassa took a deep breath, his fists tightening. Suddenly, he lifted his head and slammed one fist on the table.
“Nothing!” he exclaimed. “Just damned empty silence.”
Alarmed by the desperation in his friend’s voice, Byron cringed as he realized what was required. Reviving stunned senses required an open mind. He couldn’t shield, as it would prevent connection, thus forcing Byron to sacrifice the one thing he treasured – his privacy. He felt uncomfortable with the process, but he had to try for Bassa’s sake. His friend deserved every opportunity.
Clearing his throat, he leaned forward. “I guess we need to work on it together, then. Focus on my voice,” Byron instructed, his authoritative tone catching Bassa’s attention. “Listen for my voice in your head.”
Bassa appeared skeptical, but he dropped his chin and closed his eyes. Byron focused on his navigator, determined to reach his friend.
Hear my voice, he thought. Follow the sound. Follow my thoughts.
He repeated his entreaty, his eyes on Bassa. His navigator gave no indication that Byron’s voice registered. Frustrated by the lack of response, he closed his eyes and tried again.
Bassa, hear me. I know you can! Follow my voice. Find your own.
Something stirred in Bassa’s mind. Eager to uncover any remaining trace of mental ability, Byron followed the echo.
Try again! Follow my voice.
A tiny sound rippled through his friend’s mind, but it was not enough to establish a connection. Abandoning all caution, Byron flooded Bassa’s mind with his presence.
You have to hear me because I’m not flying with anyone else! he cried, his eyes squeezed tight.
Something stirred within Bassa’s mind and Byron grasped at that thread. His friend could not abandon him now …
I … hear … you …
The voice was faint, but his friend had indeed spoken. Byron’s eyes flew open as he uttered a triumphant cry. Bassa met his gaze, his expression incredulous. Byron grinned foolishly as relief flooded his entire body.
“You did it!” he exclaimed, slapping the table.
Bassa grasped his arm and Byron returned the gesture as he continued to grin with excitement. His friend appeared equally elated, his eyes revealing a gratitude he could not voice. Sensing the intensity of the moment, Byron decided to press forward.
“Let’s get the rest of your senses working,” he offered.
Bassa lowered his head and closed his eyes. Feeling apprehensive but a little more confident, Byron did the same. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mind and reached out to his friend. He sought to connect with every aspect of Bassa’s mental abilities. He’d never entered another man’s mind before, although he endured evasive probing as a child. Bassa’s thoughts were faint, but his senses seemed intact. Byron focused on that area of the brain, encouraging his friend to reconnect. As if sleeping, Bassa’s mind began to awaken and return to life.
As the man’s senses grew in strength, Byron became aware of a thousand different thoughts. A kaleidoscope of images swirled in his mind. Scenes drifted in and out of focus like a dream. He saw Bassa’s parents and brother, now just distant memories. Moments from his friend’s first tenure as a navigator, as well as his years as an instructor, flitted past his mind’s eye. The images were strong and fresh, and the sights he viewed intrigued Byron.
The accompanying emotions carried the most impact, though. A hint of regret colored Bassa’s thoughts regarding his lack of mate or family, although it did not run as deep as his feelings regarding Tal. He continued to harbor guilt and blamed himself for ignoring his obligations as an older sibling. That perceived failure weighed heavy on his heart. Byron sensed Bassa’s remorse stemmed from those feelings rather than a genuine love for Tal.
The brothers were never close. The realization of this fact caught Byron by surprise. Bassa had never loved Tal, and only thoughts of the man’s parents carried any sense of genuine affection. Despite the vast number of partners and friends over the years, Bassa had never connected with any of them.
For a moment, Byron felt confused and betrayed. He didn’t matter to Bassa at all …
You’re wrong.
Bassa’s voice was much stronger now. The deep echoes released a new flood of thoughts. What he could no longer recall from his parents, and had never experienced from his sister, Byron now felt from Bassa. The acceptance and understanding that had eluded him for years filled his mind. Bassa believed in his young pilot and was dedicated to remain as his navigator for the duration. The life of a troubled young man was more important than his own.
Stunned and humbled by his friend’s feelings, Byron dropped all inhibitions regarding their connection. He wished he knew how to reciprocate the sentiment and convey the depth of Bassa’s impact on his life. And at that moment, with his mind open, he realized that Bassa already knew.
He felt Bassa’s grip on his arm tighten and the sound of movement reached his ears. Byron hesitated, afraid to open his eyes. Reaching deep for the courage, he lifted his head and met Bassa’s gaze. Bassa squeezed Byron’s arm and released his grasp, stretching his back as he leaned away. Byron moved his arm, stiff from resting in one position for so long. Leaning back in his seat, he grinned at his friend.
Keep talking to me, he prodded.
Bassa returned his smile. What do you want me to talk about?
I don’t know. Pretend we’re on Guaard and I just performed a reckless maneuver. You never lacked for words then.
Byron! Bassa protested, leaning forward.
Flashing a mischievous grin, Byron crossed his arms. It’s true! An idea struck him.
Tell me why you were interested in exploration. I’d like to know.
His question surprised Bassa. With a little prodding, his friend began to elaborate on his fascination with space exploration. Pleased to hear the man’s voice in his head, Byron was content to listen to his navigator talk. He now understood Ernx’s eager joy when Nintal regained his senses.
After the cold silence, Bassa could occupy his mind all day.
They were eventually interrupted by a call from medical. Bassa needed to return for a full evaluation of his abilities. His senses appeared to be functioning on all levels, but Byron was anxious for positive confirmation.
All right if I accompany you? he asked.
Of course! Bassa replied.
Byron was permitted to observe as his navigator’s mental powers were tested and measured. Now a full day past the disrupter blast, his senses were operating at ninety percent. Full restoration would occur within the next day. Bassa was placed on injured reserve, effectively grounding their team until further notice. Byron felt he could live with that status, though.
You wouldn’t want me navigating right now anyway, Bassa declared as they exited the facility.
I’d take you with limited senses over anyone else at full capacity!
Bassa requested the midday meal in his room and Byron joined him. The endless questions from their fellow officers would just have to wait until later. However, they did need to complete their flight report before the evening meal. Byron thought a change of scenery might be good, too.
The biosphere? he suggested, aware of Bassa’s affinity for the peaceful surroundings.
He sensed his navigator’s pleasure before the man even spoke. The open connection certainly required adjustment, but if it assisted in Bassa’s recovery, Byron would leave his shields down for now.
Retreating to an isolated section of the hydroponics bay, the men focused on their computer pads for the next hour. Bassa appeared to take his time and paused on numerous occasions to contemplate his report. Byron reviewed his flight information several times, ingraining the final incident in his mind, before completing his account. He claimed full responsibility for Bassa’s injuries.
No. Don’t blame yourself, Bassa instructed.
Tilting his head to view his friend, Byron frowned. I should’ve jumped.
You followed my instructions. You are not at fault.
But it resulted in your injury!
That was my miscalculation, not yours.
Their mental connection revealed more, though. Byron straightened his shoulders and stared at his navigator.
“You knew you’d be struck?” he demanded.
Bassa leaned back against the bench. You were exhausted. I was reluctant to suggest yet another jump. That maneuver protected you while increasing the odds I would be hit instead. I made the decision and I’m willing to live with the results.
I know you just want to protect me, but …
As your navigator, it is my duty to keep you from harm, Bassa stated, his authoritative tone silencing Byron’s protest. His expression softened. And as your friend, I refuse to fail in that obligation.
Unable to think of an appropriate response, Byron remained silent. He still felt a jump would’ve been a better course of action. Eliminating the danger to both pilot and navigator was preferable to yesterday’s incident.
Bassa smiled. I’ll try to get us both out of danger next time, he promised.
You better!
At Bassa’s insistence, he altered his report.
With that task completed, they returned to their quarters. Bassa stated that he was tired and would sleep for a few hours before the evening meal.
You need anything, let me know, Byron told him as they parted company.
Bassa paused at his door and smiled. Now that I can, I will!
The rest was beneficial, as Bassa acted like his old self when he joined Byron for the evening meal. The moment they entered the dining hall, the other officers all but attacked them with questions and concerns. Byron sensed his friend was relieved he’d delayed a public appearance. Several officers had contacted Byron that afternoon, inquiring on Bassa’s condition, and he’d told everyone to wait until this evening. The attention was almost overwhelming, but Bassa appeared to handle it with ease. More than once he stated that it was his judgment, not Byron’s flying, that led to his injuries. Byron made one attempt to counter that statement, but a private request from Bassa that bordered on an order effectively silenced him.
They finally escaped the crowd in the dining hall only to be confronted by a junior officer in the corridor.
“Officer Bassa, Officer Byron?” he inquired. “The commander would like to see you in his private office right away.”
Acknowledging the request, the men entered the first available telepod. Byron shot his navigator an apprehensive glance.
Are we in trouble?
Bassa smiled and shook his head. Doubtful.
Arriving at the commander’s office, Bassa passed his hand over the press plate. They were told to enter at once and the doors slid aside. As they approached the commander’s desk, Kernen arose with a grin.
“It’s good to see you up and about,” he declared, extending a hand to Bassa. “You had me worried.”
“You know I’m tougher than that, sir,” Bassa replied, returning the commander’s handshake.
Kernen patted his shoulder and turned to Byron. “Officer Byron,” he stated, flashing the pilot a friendly smile.
“Sir,” Byron answered, unsure what to make of the situation.
The commander gestured toward the empty chairs. “Have a seat, men.”
Byron slid into his chair, hoping his movements did not reveal his confusion. Kernen’s appearance yesterday had perplexed him as well. However, he sensed only serenity from Bassa and drew comfort from that fact.
“I appreciate that you came to see me yesterday, sir,” Bassa said, stretching his legs. “My apologies that I was asleep at the time.”
The commander waved aside his apology. “Sleep is the best medicine after a disrupter hit. I just wanted to confirm your status with my own eyes.”
Now seated at his desk, Kernen turned to his computer screen. “I’ve reviewed your ship’s data and your reports,” he announced, “and everything appears to be in order. I see no errors in judgment, so as far as I’m concerned, the incident is closed.”
Kernen leaned back in his chair, the fingers on his right hand still grasping the edge of his desk. “Just glad you’re both still with us! Hate to lose one of my best teams.”
“Thank you, sir,” Bassa graciously replied.
“I still should’ve jumped,” blurted Byron. “Sir.”
The commander regarded him with patient understanding. “I respect Bassa’s decision not to place his pilot at risk with another jump. According to the ship’s data, you were already draining the teleporter. Even you have your limits.”
Byron nodded in acceptance, although he was still not satisfied with that assessment. The commander smiled and leaned forward.
“Do not overestimate your abilities, Byron. Even with your unique talent, multiple jumps are taxing. Trust your navigator’s judgment. After all, he is one of the best in the fleet,” he added with a sly wink at Bassa.
“Yes, sir, I am aware of that fact!” Byron declared, flashing his friend a grin.
The commander nodded and rose to his feet. “You will be on simulators tomorrow,” he announced as Bassa and Byron arose from their chairs.
“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.
“Dismissed.”
Byron turned away, but Bassa paused for a moment. Glancing at his navigator, he caught Bassa’s wry smile and nod at Kernen before turning to join Byron. They exited the commander’s office and he wondered at the private words exchanged between the men. Byron decided not to ask Bassa, but he was curious if there was indeed a past relationship.
We used to fly together, Bassa announced once they were in the hallway.
You’re friends?
Yes.
They entered the telepod and Byron turned to his navigator. Must’ve helped when acquiring this assignment.
Our skills landed this post, Bassa said firmly before winking at his pilot. But yes, it helped!
Bank left!
Following Bassa’s command, Byron vee
red sharply to the left. The enemy ship mirrored their maneuver, although not to the same degree. Byron conveyed his next move to his navigator and the reply was an instant confirmation.
Reversing the thrusters, Byron spun the ship around to face their attacker. He fired at once, hoping to get in a shot before the Vindicarn responded. A laser passed under their wing, but his second shot found its mark.
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