Supernova

by Jessica Marting

  Rian couldn’t believe he was jealous of Ensign Shraft, a junior officer whose reputation for goofing off and causing mayhem was already legendary throughout the entire Fleet. It was a new feeling, and he didn’t like it.

  He needed to see her and talk to her beyond a perfunctory “hello” in the lift or corridor. Just to get her out of his system. That idea was what had compelled him to look up her location and make his way to the mess.

  She was deeply engrossed in her datatab and had tucked the stylus behind her ear. When Rian quietly cleared his throat, she jumped a little in her seat, and the stylus clattered to the tabletop.

  “Captain!” she said. “Good God, you scared a year off my life.” She set the datatab aside.

  He took the seat across from her. “How are you?”

  “Almost through with Sanitation and Handling Protocols,” she replied. “I finished Dispensation Procedures a couple days ago, and I’ve been reading through Fleet history when I get bored with technical stuff.”

  “It’s required for all programs,” Rian said. “So is a module on Commons history.”

  “Which is fascinating,” Lily immediately replied.

  He stared at her skeptically. “I didn’t get where I am by believing everything I hear,” he said, but he let a hint of a smile quirk at his mouth. “If you’re reading the same text I had to, it’s one of the most boring trials you’ll ever go through.”

  She sighed. “You got me. But at least I’m picking up the language differences, too,” she said, triumph in her words. “I’m changing the Y’s to I’s and switching C and K. It isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I was always worried everyone would start writing like they do in texts.”

  Rian raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.

  “Text-speak,” she clarified. “Short written messages through our phones. A lot of nonsense short words and symbols, like using the number 2 instead of writing ‘to.’“

  “Wouldn’t that create confusion?”

  “It’s like any other form of communication. You just have to get used to it.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped at her coffee. “So, what brings you here? Lunch isn’t for another hour and a half.” She glanced at the large clock inset in the mess wall.

  “I’m not needed on the bridge right now.”

  Lily cocked her head, as though she was remembering something. “When are you ever on the bridge, anyway? Don’t captains actually fly ships?”

  He was amused at her naiveté. “It takes more than one person to do that,” he explained. “I do work the consoles like the other higher-ranking officers on the ship, but I oversee everything that happens on board.”

  “So you’re really a manager, and everyone else does the work.”

  “No,” he protested. He would have been insulted if it had been anyone other than her saying it, and the smirk on her face told him she was trying to yank his chain. “I’m usually on the bridge or in my office, which is off the bridge. I know what the crew is up to.” He tossed her question back to her. “Why are you here?”

  “My cabin has too many distractions,” she admitted. “Taz and Mora got me into a TV—vidshow,” she corrected herself. “Lightning’s Luck.” Rian was familiar with the vidserial, a fluffy drama whose characters spent their time on the titular starship, frequently encountering black holes and cheating on each other.

  “They have me addicted to it, and all I’ve done in my cabin the last two days is watch archived episodes,” she continued. “Mora is having everyone over at her place when the new season starts next month, and I want to be caught up in time.”

  He was pleased to hear that she was making friends besides Ensign Shraft and finding acceptance among the crew. But then, she was the kind of person people gravitated towards. She was, as he told Nalia, bright and warm with a sense of humor. It was hard not to like her.

  Which he did. Very much so.

  “Actually, I was worried you might be mad at me,” Lily said. “You’ve been avoiding me since we left the station.”

  “I haven’t been avoiding you,” he countered. That would mean he didn’t want to see her. He did, he just wasn’t sure about doing so.

  Rian Marska, acting captain of the Defiant, who had graduated at the top of his class and steered a shuttle out of the maw of a vortex as a mere lieutenant, who had become the second youngest executive officer in Fleet’s history, was flummoxed in dealing with Lily, pharmacy student and time traveler.

  “Lily, I want to see you,” he began. She smiled in return. “But...” Her smile faded. Damn! “This is a very unusual situation we’re in.”

  “No shit. Especially my part of it.”

  “I know.” He groped for an explanation. “Which is why I haven’t been more...aggressive when it comes to you.”

  “Rian, what are you saying?” She kept her voice low.

  “I like you,” he faltered. “A lot.” Gods, answering to the admirals over his treatment of her was easier than this.

  “I like you, too, so what’s the problem?”

  His heart flip-flopped. He tried to form an answer that wouldn’t give her the wrong idea, but she wasn’t finished.

  “I know you’re worried about me having psychological trauma and a bunch of other issues,” she said. “And you would be right. I’m in a new place in a new time and I’m going to be adjusting to that for a while yet.” Her voice dropped to a throaty purr—consciously or not, Rian couldn’t tell, but it affected him. “But that has nothing to do with the fact that I like you. A lot,” she added, echoing his earlier declaration. “And while I’m still learning how this society works, I don’t appreciate anyone presuming how I feel or explaining away my feelings with psychobabble.” She leaned forward, challenging him.

  His mouth went dry, and he cursed his having to go back to the bridge. It took every ounce of his self-control to not take her by the hand and run to his cabin. He tried to form a sentence, ask her what she wanted, but she broke the silence first.

  “So where do we go from here?” she asked. “And don’t ask me to dinner. The mess doesn’t have the same ambiance as that place on Rubidge.”

  Rian found his voice again. “There’s not much else to do on the Defiant. We’re nowhere near a spaceport or station.” If they were, he would have asked her to go climbing. It was an activity he missed.

  “What about a vidshow?”

  “This ship isn’t like newer vessels. We don’t have much in the way of entertainment on board. We don’t even have a big vid or holoscreen for the mess. The crew would be much more amiable if they could see a zero-g fight occasionally.”

  “What about your cabin?” she suggested brightly. He felt his eyes widen in amazement, even though he knew he shouldn’t be surprised. He knew already that she didn’t hesitate to speak her mind, and he liked that about her. “It’s homier than mine, otherwise I’d invite you over. I would even cook, but I can’t here.” She held out her hands innocently. “I’ll have to get my hands on a cookbook and learn what people eat these days. I can’t believe tomatoes don’t exist anymore.”

  “They probably do, but they wouldn’t be called ‘tomatoes’ anymore,” Rian explained. He tried to steer their conversation back to the issue at hand. “I’d like to invite you over,” he continued carefully. “I’d prefer to do more than that.” She tilted her head to the side expectantly, and he caught himself. “Not—well, I’d—oh, damn.”

  “Please continue,” she said smoothly.

  “What I mean is, I’d rather do things properly,” he said hastily. “I’m a little more traditional that way.”

  “Usually I am, too, but we’re on a spaceship. There’s not a lot in the way of date venues.”

  Rian wasn’t very good at relationships, but he desperately wanted to start something with Lily. He also wanted to keep his job, and he knew that Fleet would give him a hard time about that balancing act. “There isn’t,” he conceded. “But you know the positions we’re both in.” H
is voice dropped to just above a whisper, and she leaned closer. She nodded, and he saw the disappointment in her eyes. He wanted to kick himself. “But we could still see each other here,” he added hastily, eyes darting around the mess. A few of the crew had noticed he was sitting with her but didn’t appear to care. “I know it’s not much, but...” He trailed off and held out his hands helplessly. He hated feeling helpless. It frustrated him that he had finally met a woman who fascinated him like no one else had, and she turned out to be from another era and assigned to him for protection. It was just his luck.

  “I know, and I know you’re not saying any of these things to spare my feelings,” she sighed. “It’s not like you’re trying to let me down.” She stared at him. “Is it?”

  “Gods, no.”

  “So until everything settles down, we’ll keep meeting like this,” she confirmed. She sighed again. “This is just like high school all over again. Sitting in the cafeteria studying for an exam and getting distracted by a boy I like.”

  He felt his eyes widen at the cavalier way she spoke, and an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest. “You have your first examination soon, don’t you?”

  “You’ve been checking up on me,” she teased. “It’s the day after tomorrow, 1400 hours. Dr. Ashford’s proctoring it and transmitting it to Fleet. And tomorrow I have a check-up. Apparently I need vaccinations.”

  He nodded. Commons citizens were required to be vaccinated against Coll particles—invisible motes that gave off artificial life support systems and caused a perpetual flu. There was also an immune system booster than encouraged better absorption of nutrients, and a Fleet-mandated immunization against venereal disease. There was also an optional contraceptive implant, and he wondered if she had come across that little piece of information in her studies yet.

  The new vaccinations would be helpful should she ever find herself the subject of a mediscan reading. They could make her original immunizations less visible, although he had no idea how Dr. Ashford could disguise her healed ribs and missing appendix. But he wasn’t the one with the medical training.

  “Vaccinations are a lot less uncomfortable than when you were a kid,” he said.

  She tapped a datatab. “I’ve been reading about them. No more syringes. Mostly transdermal delivery now.”

  At the mention of syringes, Rian felt a faint shudder course through him. She noticed it and shook her head. He glanced at the clock. “I have to get back to the bridge,” he said reluctantly.

  “No time for a coffee?”

  “I just wanted to see you,” he replied honestly.

  “How did you know where to find me?” He gestured to the comm badge clipped to her collar. “Oh, right.”

  Rian got up from his seat, and she raised her hand to her temple in a mock salute, a knowing grin across her face. “See you soon, Captain.”

  * * *

  Mora and Lily were quickly becoming each other’s confidantes. It was nice to have a female ally on a patrol ship whose crew was largely male, and she wasn’t much older than Lily, having celebrated her thirtieth birthday a few weeks before they met. She had also started off her Fleet career in the pharmacy after finishing what she described as a useless degree in obscure planetary cultures. She had a broken engagement behind her as well. They had a lot in common.

  Mora was administering her vaccinations today. She showed Lily the transdermal sprays, slim tubes that reminded her of her old asthma inhaler, and how the doses were calibrated according to genetic information supplied on the mediscan. “If you’re in a hospital, you’ll be doing this,” she said. “Mixing meds is beneath us nurses.” She grinned, showing off a perfect white smile. Lily knew it probably put countless patients at ease, especially male ones.

  “What are you doing, exactly?”

  Mora tried to simplify her explanation, but Lily got lost in the terminology. She caught familiar terms like “body mass” and “estrogen,” and nodded.

  “Don’t worry,” Mora assured her. “That shows up later on in your coursework. All you have to do is follow the mediscan’s readouts.” She held up the first spray and glanced back and forth between it and the mediscan. “Are you almost caught up with Lightning’s Luck?”

  “I watched two episodes last night when I finished studying for my exam. The ship was stuck in a wormhole and Captain Trid was trapped in engineering with the doors sealed.”

  “Oh, good. You’re almost through with the first series, then. Captain Trid’s hot, isn’t he?”

  Lily recalled the blond, muscled captain with telekinetic powers that always failed him at the worst times. “Yeah.”

  “I wouldn’t object to a posting on that ship.” She held the spray against Lily’s upper arm and depressed its plunger. Lily felt a tiny whoosh of air and her skin cooled as the med solution spread. “Although Captain Marska isn’t hard to look at either, even if does act like he has a rod up his ass.”

  Lily stiffened slightly. A rush of something harsh hit her senses, and it had nothing to do with the immune system booster she had just received. It was...jealousy?

  Mora caught it. Mirth danced in her eyes. “Not my type, though,” she said smoothly. “He’s way too serious. I like men who don’t always play by the rules.” She tossed the spray into a bin designated Med-Waste. She was watching Lily to gauge her reaction.

  She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Mora prepped another transdermal spray for the second part of her vaccination. Without looking up, Mora said, “He’s yours, though.”

  What the hell. Lily trusted Mora. “He’s not mine,” she said carefully, but added, “He’s smart and thoughtful.”

  Mora was ready with the new spray. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but I think we’re becoming friends, and there’s something you need to know. Two things, actually.” She positioned the spray in the crook of her left arm, over her pulse point. “First, this one’s hot.” She activated it and Lily squealed in surprise. It felt like she had held her arm over the steam issuing from a teakettle. “Sorry.” Mora had a sheepish look on her face as she dropped the spray in the waste receptacle. “And second,” she continued, “I know how to keep a secret, which is good because I’m a nurse and incurably nosy.” Her expression grew serious. “What is going on with Captain Marska?”

  “Have you been talking to Taz?”

  “Occasionally, but everyone talks to Taz. Medical professionals are bound to a confidentiality agreement. I also saw you two at a restaurant on Rubidge. So, tell.”

  “Rian and I are friends,” Lily replied simply.

  “Rian?” The look on her face was priceless.

  “I swear to all the gods everyone here believes in,” Lily began, but she was laughing. “Okay, I’m telling you this as your patient. I want it to turn into something more. I’m hoping it’ll turn out to be something more.” She caught Mora’s bemused expression. “Please don’t tell me there’s no chance things could work out. I really like him.”

  Mora was poking around a cabinet. “Good. He needs to get laid.”

  “Mora!”

  “I’m saying that as a medical professional. Everyone needs to.” Her expression darkened for a moment. “Especially me.”

  “Am I bound to the same confidentiality clause as you?”

  “No, but we’re friends, and discretion is implied.” She removed more small vials and tubes from the cabinet and read the labels, frowning at them.

  “Anyway, it’s not like that,” Lily told her. “We really don’t have much choice but to take it slowly.”

  “You know we’re stuck in deep space, right? No one can work every hour of the day and night. Well, except the captain. I guess you have your work cut out for you after all.” She turned back to the cabinet and rummaged through it again. “Damn it, I try to keep this organized.” To Lily, she said, “Now, I’m giving you the VDI. It’s mandatory if you want to work anywhere controlled by Fleet, and most of the Commons planets require it, too. Aha!” She
removed a pair of tiny packets and a laser scalpel. “It keeps your bits from turning green and falling off if you pick up the wrong one-night stand.” Lily giggled at her explanation. “Thanks to dumb soldiers who can’t tell the difference between their rifles and guns, we all have to have these.” She held up a small, flat box studded with tiny holes. “This will administer a local anaesthetic. I’m going to insert the implant under the skin on the back of your hip, and you won’t feel a thing. Lay on your side, please.”

  Lily obediently lay back on the exam table and slid down the waistband of her pants a few inches. “Hey!” said Mora, admiring the tattoo that graced her hipbone. It was three inches wide, a design of green leaves and vines, with delicate pink and blue flowers throughout. “I like that.”

  “I rebelled during university. My father didn’t care.”

  Mora placed the locan just over her hipbone, numbing the skin. Lily deliberately kept her eyes on the exam room’s closed door. True to the nurse’s word, she didn’t feel anything. “It’s pretty,” Mora said of the tattoo. “A lot nicer than the ones you can get here. The colors are brighter.”

  “Let me guess—lasers? We use needles where I come from.”

  “I’d do that if I could get a locan first,” Mora said. “That tattoo is worth it. Do you want the contraceptive implant?” She raised her eyebrows in mock-suggestion.