An Officer’s Duty (44 page)

Left hand swooping and flexing subtly, wrapped in the sensor glove that controlled the direction of the twinned starship, Ia played with the controls. Her right hand tapped and stroked the piloting controls, adding and subtracting the power of thrust from the panels dotting the hull. She didn’t pull any high-speed maneuvers, no tight turns or sudden reversals, just moved it enough to get herself used to piloting the ship. With her seat centered in the bridge, which was centered on the middle deck in the upper ship, everything was almost perfectly balanced around her, maneuvering-wise.

Salish put up with it for a few minutes before her voice crossed Ia’s headset. The commander’s tone was light, though, when she asked,
“Are you done playing with the controls, Lieutenant?”

Ia grinned and swooped the ship a little harder, just a quick back and forth, then steadied their course.
“Now I’m done, sir. I believe I can handle her.”

“Good. I am transferring the off-watch command to you, Lieutenant Ia. Logging the time and control of the
Audie-Murphy
to you…now.”

“Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.”
Closing her end of the link, but keeping the incoming channel open in case the four off-watch crewmembers on the
Murphy
side needed to talk to her, Ia shifted the current sensor readings to her left secondary screen. She adjusted their heading and read the new results. “ETA to pinging range of the Tlassian mining ship
Red Iron Tail
…seven minutes insystem. Any sign of unusual activity on the lightspeed, Private Kipple?”

“No, sir,” he replied from his position as combined navigator and scanner tech. “They are still in a standard mining orbit around asteroid 75,331, exactly where they said they’d be. Skiffs
are still displaying standard mining activities.” He shrugged, restraint straps creaking slightly against the pull of his shoulders. “Which means either they’re doing exactly what they should be doing, or they’re very cleverly concealing their true activities.”

“Nice to see you have the proper mind-set for Blockade work, Private,” Ia quipped.

“I have been out here for a tour and a half, sir,” he reminded her.

“Sir,” Private Knorssen asked from her position at the combined engineering and ship’s systems post. “Do you want me to give the orders to start warming up the mechsuits for the boarding party?”

“They’re apparently law-abiding under the conventions of their Blockade mining contract. I want Private Higatsu to suit up in halfmech. He’ll be the only one; Privates Tamaganej and Nguyen will don close-quarters armor,” Ia instructed.

“Sir?” Knorssen questioned. “That’s not standard procedure.”

“Dealing with aliens is a tricky business, Private. Did you read the crew manifest for the
Red Iron Tail
?” Ia asked in turn. “Almost eighty percent of the crew are warrior caste.”

“Yes, I know, Lieutenant, and that’s why I’m concerned about your orders, sir,” Knorssen told her. “I don’t feel comfortable with you going into a ship filled with venom-spitters, sir.”

“Well, that’s where you and I differ, Private,” Ia stated. “I feel very comfortable going among them unarmored.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ia could see Knorssen open her mouth, close it, open it again, and again hesitate.

“Whatever it is, Private, go ahead and say it. Just say it respectfully,” Ia told the other woman.

“Then, said with respect, sir…you’re
crazy
.” She shot Ia a sideways look of her own before returning her hazel green eyes back to her screens.

“More like well-versed in alien psychology, particularly that of the Tlassian warrior caste,” Ia explained. “That, and almost half the crew comes from Glau. Two hundred years ago, that colonyworld was so hard-hit by the Salik during the war, less than fifteen percent of the adults and less than five percent of the children survived. If the non-Glau crewmembers tried
anything vaguely resembling cooperation with the Salik, the Glau colonists among them would tear them to shreds. Instruct Private Higatsu to suit up in halfmech, and Privates Tamaganej and Nguyen to don light armor,” Ia ordered.

“Aye, sir.” Turning back to her workstation, Knorssen did as ordered.

Ia watched the distance count down on her tertiary screen, numbers for both distance and magnification scrolling rapidly as the scanners constantly readjusted the displayed size of their target. They could have used the hyperrelay comms to contact the
Red Iron Tail
sooner than this. Or they could have short-hopped to a point much closer to the alien vessels and caught them by surprise. The point of gliding in at sub-light insystem speeds was to take advantage of lightspeed wave fronts, matching what they saw with their own sensors against the hyperrelay pings from the system buoys, in case of sabotage or ambush.

There were times when it would be more prudent to sneak up with a short-hop and surprise the ship in question, but Ia knew this wasn’t one of them. As soon as they were in range, she sent out the signal requesting communications with the Tlassian ship. Within moments, she received a pingback, and an open transmission.

“Thiss is the
Red Iron Tail,
of the Rurrulda Minnning Compannny to the
Audie-Murffphy.
We are ssstanding down operationsss to comply with boarding prosssceduresss.”

“Acknowledged,
Red Iron Tail,” Ia returned.
“Your prompt diligence honors your employers. Estimated boarding time, seventeen
ziknnah
Tlassian Standard.”

A pause, then the comm tech on the other end hissed,
“Who do I have the pleasssurrre of ssspeaking with?”

“Lieutenant Second Grade Ia.
Mok’kathh ssuweh neh khunnssswerreah Ssarra L’kuhl Kunhienn,” she added in Tlassian.
“And yes, I do know my accent is atrocious.”

A staccato hiss of laughter echoed back along the link.
“Wissse is shhhe who confrontsss her own ffflawsss.”

“Alas, it is a form of combat only a seasoned diplomat could win. I am but a soldier. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
Ia asked in turn.

“Thhird Chief Watcherr Ffred, captain of the
Rrred Ironnn Tail.
My kinssship affiliationss are not quite ssso essteemmed.”

“I am sure you bring honor to your kin with each sun’s rising. I will see you shortly, Third Chief Watcher,”
Ia promised.

“It will be a pleasssurre to be insspected by you. May all otherrrs be ssso polite.
Rrred Iron Tail
ending call.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Okay, now I
know
I’m missing something. Sir,” Knorssen added politely. She craned her neck, looking at Ia over her shoulder. “Kinship affiliations?”

“When I was still a young teenager, I sent a letter to the brand-new Grandmaster of the Afaso, a Tlassian named Ssarra. I managed to impress him enough that he not only corresponded back, we stayed in contact through the years,” Ia explained. “Just before I joined the Marines, he adopted me as a sort of clan-cousin-sister-thing. Terran cultures have no exact equivalent for it, though the closest are a combination of…sister-in-arms and honorary extended family member. Though more of the sister-in-arms thing, as it’s a warrior caste thing, but a closer kinship than just a strict military affinity would be. That’s why I know it’ll be more impressive to the warrior caste if most of us board their ship in light armor, rather than in mech. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know how they think.”

“If you say so, sir. I was more into the Gatsugi in my Alien Culture classes,” Private Knorssen dismissed.

Kipple, watching the scanner boards as they approached the mining ship, snorted audibly. “Well, that certainly explains your choice in civilian clothes…”

“Stuff it, Kipple,” Knorssen muttered.

He shook his head. “I’m just saying it’s a good thing you aren’t working the scanners, because with your color sense—”

“Stuff it, Kipple,” Ia echoed, keeping her tone mild. “Eyes to the boards, thoughts on your tasks. We’ll be docking with the
Red Iron Tail
in twenty minutes.”

Ia wiped another trickle of sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, then stroked her finger up the writing pad’s screen, scrolling through the last of the supply logs. The dry heat of the ship was a bit more than the standardized temperature Terran military vessels used, but it was tolerable enough, if
warm. She nodded and handed it back to the captain of the
Red Iron Tail
.

“Everything appears to be in order, Captain. Thank you for your cooperation.
Sschah nakh.
”

“Ssthienn nakh,”
the saurian replied, bowing at the hips. “Sssuch courtessy iss appreciated. As iss your effficiensscy.”

“You have money to make, the same as any other businessmeioa,” Ia told him, shrugging. “These delays are an unfortunate but necessary evil. You have a solid record of complying with Blockade laws and procedures. To approach you without courtesy or efficiency would dishonor your efforts—oh, you might want to change out your power relays in the forward cargo hold. I could smell the ozone from sparks near the starboard-side junction,” she added. “The minerals you’re mining aren’t particularly volatile, but it would be prudent to replace them.”

“We will lllook into that,” Third Chief Ffred promised. He curled one of his scaled arms upward, gesturing for her to precede him out of the bridge.

Ia tapped her arm unit, activating her headset.
“Alpha team to Beta, we’re done here. Everything is in the clear. Pack it up and move it out.”

Private Nguyen, clad in the same navy blue and ceristeel grey body armor as Ia but cradling his laser rifle against his chest rather than down his back, nodded politely to the captain of the mining ship. Ffred was staring at him with wide eyes and a cocked head, a species-similar show of curiosity. Nguyen acknowledged him politely. “Third Chief, you are, ah, curious about something?”

“I would lllike to offffer you a drrinnk, warrior,” the alien murmured, eyeing the private.

“
Ah
, thank you, sir, but no, thank you. I’m not allowed to drink while on duty, sir,” Nguyen replied, glancing briefly at Ia.

Ia bit her lip for a moment, quelling the urge to laugh. An invitation to share a drink among the Tlassians wasn’t quite the same as an invitation to share a drink among the Terrans. Or rather, it was, only
more
so. Facing the Tlassian captain when she was sure her face wasn’t a Gatsugi-like shade of red, she gestured at Nguyen. “
He
is male, Captain. Meioa-o, not meioa-e.”

Ffred flicked his tail. “Sssorry, it iss not alwayss easy to tell ssubspesscies apart. I…apolllogize if my prropossition offended you.”

“No, no offense taken,” Nguyen agreed, eyes widening slightly with comprehension. “The armor does conceal a lot, I’ll admit. I’ll,
ah
, take it as a compliment. But gender aside, I
am
on duty, Captain. Have a good day-cycle.”

Neither of them said anything about the incident until they had reached the airlock. Beta team had already cycled through, having come from a spot in the ship closer to the connection point between the two vessels. Nguyen glanced at her several times as they cycled through the
Red Iron Tail
’s airlock, the boarding tube, and the
Audie-Murphy
’s aft airlock.

Only when they were in the actual corridors of their own ship, where their presence wasn’t being monitored, did he finally speak. “
Um
…sir? You’re not going to tell the others I was,
ah
, propositioned by a Tlassian, are you?”

“What, and have you end up with the nickname of ‘Prettyboy’ Nguyen?” Ia quipped. She shook her head. “No, I won’t say anything, I promise. Stow your weapons but stay in your armor and strap in to your prep alcove, Private. We’ll be short-jumping to the next ship in fifteen minutes, and I’ll want you ready to go.”

“Understood, sir.”

The crew of the
Six Claws of Dirt
were not thrilled to have the
Audie-Murphy
emerge from hyperspace less than two hundred kilometers away. That gave them just one minute to receive the ping and its command for them to stand down and prepare to be boarded while the Terran vessel braked hard. Ia flipped over the conjoined ships even as the message went out, preparing to dock the alien vessel’s aft airlock to their starboard side. It wasn’t unusual for a patrol ship to sneak up on a vessel this way, but that didn’t mean they had to be happy about it.