Dark Space: Origin (19 page)

A noise sounded out behind him and Hoff turned to see his wife stepping lightly onto the bridge. He gave her a tight smile and then turned back to the viewports. “Atta’s in her room?”

“Yes. Hoff . . .”

He felt her hands on his shoulders, kneading the knots out of his muscles. “What?”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I do still care about Ethan, but it’s not love. Not romantic love, anyway. I care about him as I would about any other human being. He doesn’t deserve to die, Hoff, and you know that.”

“Maybe not, but he’ll get at least ten years hard labor, even if his story is true.”

“Hoff . . . out here you
are
the law. You can pardon him.”

“No, Destra, I can’t. It will undermine my command.”

Destra sighed and stopped massaging his shoulders. He watched her walk up to the viewports. “What will you do with Atton?”

“He’ll have to wait until he can be acquitted.”

“There’s no other way? He’s a holoskinner. What if he just took off his skin. No one would recognize him, not outside of Dark Space anyway.”

Hoff thought about it. “The
Defiant’s
crew might.”

“Do they have to be on your ship?”

Hoff frowned. “I just sent them there, but for now I can confine Atton to quarters, I suppose.”

“Could he stay with us? I’d like to be able to spend some quality time with him without prison bars between us.”

Hoff sighed, and Destra walked back over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Mmmm,” Hoff replied as his mind turned back to planning the coming engagement. “Very well.”

Chapter 13

T
he shuttle carrying Alara and the rest of the crew from the
Defiant
landed in the auxiliary hangar of the
Tauron
. The boarding ramp dropped and the sergeant who’d ridden with them from Fortress Station rushed them out onto the deck and lined them up for processing. They all stood at attention and waited. A moment later a tall man with a spotless black uniform and white veteran’s stripes strode up to them. His glowing red eye caught Alara’s attention and she drew an immediate comparison between that eye and the glowing red eyes in the Gors’ helmets. This man was completely human, however. He looked to be around forty years old, with black hair receding at his temples and just a glimmer of white showing through the black. Alara reasoned that made him old enough to have earned his stripes before the exodus.

The officer stopped in front of them and frowned as he looked them over, his blazing red eye roving down the line of survivors. Row upon row of colorful ribbons marked him as a distinguished officer. Alara noted the two gold chevrons and silver icon of a venture-class cruiser glittering on his black with white trim epaulets, and she realized that his insignia bore one more chevron than that of Deck Commander Caldin, meaning he must have outranked her by at least a full pay grade.

“I am Master Commander Donali,” the man said, confirming Alara’s suspicions about his rank. “I serve as the
Tauron’s
XO, and that means I call the shots around here. While you’re on this ship, you’d do well to remember that.” Donali turned to glance at the sergeant who’d marched them off the shuttle. He stood suddenly straighter under the XO’s scrutiny. “Deck Sergeant . . .” Donali began.

“Sir!” the sergeant replied, saluting smartly.

“These are my auxiliaries?”

“Yes, sir!”

Alara saw Donali shake his head before turning back to them. “If this is what the fleet is coming to in Dark Space, it’s no wonder you lost the
Valiant.
”

Alara saw Commander Caldin’s jaw clench, but to her credit she said nothing.

Donali went on. “I’ve never seen a sorrier
looking pack of space rats! Look at you! Half of you haven’t even shaved, and those uniforms may as well be burned.”

One of the corpsmen in the lineup couldn’t take it any longer and he stepped forward. Commander Donali’s eyes found the man. “You have something to say, Corpsman?”

“Yes, sir!” He saluted.

“Spit it out.”

“We’ve been forced to live in very poor conditions since being rescued, sir, and that is the reason for our sorry appearance, sir.”

“Did I ask you for the reason why you’re looking sorry? Don’t answer that. No, I didn’t ask, because I don’t care. I’d demote you for speaking out of turn, but instead I’m going to be merciful and make you the new latrine queen on this ship. Cleaning up our krak all day should give you newfound respect for your superiors. Step back in line!”

“Yes, sir.”

Donali turned to address them as a group. “I don’t know what kind of slack you have been used to, but you’re not in Dark Space anymore. This is the FFR, and as long as we’re out in the open here in Sythian Space, there is no such thing as condition blue or even green, so you can forget about R&R. We’re on a constant yellow alert. If you need a break, we’ll rotate you out and you’ll get some time on Ritan to visit the skull faces. Any questions?”

No one dared to step forward this time.

“Good! You’re learning.”

Alara watched the process continue. One by one the commander pointed to them. They had to step forward and state their name, rank or rate, and their rating—the role they’d been trained to fill. Based on that, they were told how they would serve aboard the battleship.

When it was Alara’s turn, she had to explain that she’d been more or less drafted to be a nova pilot, and had never received any formal training.

The XO gave her an arch look. “So you’re some new class of Brevet Officer. . . . a lieutenant no less. I’ve never even
heard
of a civilian pilot being promoted straight up the ladder like that, but I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures. How many missions have you flown since being drafted?”

“Just three.”

“Combat?”

“Two of them were, but one of those was training—a blind combat simulation.”

“What’s your pilot’s rating?”

“I’m not sure anyone’s been keeping track, sir, but in the training mission I scored 4B.”

“Training is a lot different from real, blind combat or not. Has anyone here flown with her?” Donali asked, looking up and down the line of assembled officers and NCOs.

Gina stepped forward and gave a brisk salute. “I have, sir.”

“And who are you?

“First Lieutenant Gina Giord, sir. Nova pilot.”

“How good a pilot is the Brevet Lieutenant?”

“One of the best I’ve seen—possibly even better than me.”

“Step back in line.” Turning to Alara, the XO said, “We don’t have any empty nova cockpits right now, but we’ll have you fly one of the assault transports. Go stand over there by the engineers and technicians. I’ll get back to you in a minute.”

Alara nodded and gave a brisk salute before leaving the lineup. She waited with the greasers and technicians while the XO addressed Commander Caldin.

“I already know what role you filled, Commander, but on this ship XO is my job, and the Admiral is the Captain. Your record shows an impressive tactical score, so I’d like you to join the Admiral’s advisory staff. You’ll be with us on the bridge, just one step down from myself. Come stand over here,” he said, pointing to the deck beside him.

“Yes, sir,” Caldin said, leaving the lineup.

“Next!” Donali pointed to Gina, and she stepped forward. “You said you were a nova pilot.”

“Ever since I joined the fleet, sir.”

The XO looked her up and down, noting the white stripes running down the sides of her trousers. “You’ve already got your stripes. You a real veteran or you just like how slimming those stripes are?”

“No, sir, I earned them. The war’s making veterans of us all.”

“Hmmm. How long ago did you join the fleet?”

“Six years.”

“What—did you join when you were twelve?”

“No, sir, sixteen.”

“So you’re fresh out of flight training—or were you also drafted under unusual circumstances? What’s your flight experience?”

“I had to earn my wings, sir. I spent the full three years training aboard the
Baroness
, and graduated three years ago with distinction. After that I joined Sunstroke Squadron aboard the
Defiant
. A year later, we were sent to the Getties Cluster, and in the last year since returning I’ve been serving aboard the
Valiant
with Guardian Squadron.”

The XO whistled and ran a hand along his grizzled jaw. “Well, it would be a real shame not to give you a nova, then. What’s your pilot’s rating?”

“2B over 22, sir.”

“Twenty-two missions flown? All combat?”

“About half.”

“I’m impressed that you managed to keep a 2B rating after flying that many sorties. I’m betting that means you can fly a transport with your eyes closed. You can go join Lieutenant Vastra.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Next!”

Alara watched Gina walk over to her. When she got there, Alara shook her head and whispered, “I just can’t get away from you, can I?”

Gina grinned. “You’re stuck with me, Kiddie.”

“Are you going to steal all my kills again?”

“Only if you let me.”

“Hoi, would you two cut the chatter? I had enough of that on the
Rescue
. Didn’t let me sleep worth a damn!”

Alara turned to see Petty Officer Cobrale Delayn standing behind them. He was of average height, but with his pale, Worani skin, gray hair, and light blue eyes, the old engineer still stood out in any crowd. Alara smiled at him. “We didn’t let you sleep because you snore, and we didn’t want Tova to get annoyed and eat us.”

“I do
not
snore.”

“Don’t make me get the flight recorder to prove it,” Alara replied.

“Go ahead. You can’t prove what don’t exist. I’m as quiet as a—”

“All right break it up, girlies!” Commander Donali said, striding over to them and clapping his hands to get their attention. “I’m going to take you lot to the flight deck myself. We’re expecting the admiral to land there in a few minutes, and I need to speak with him.” Donali turned to find Commander Caldin. She was busy talking to a nearby corpsman. “Come with us, Commander,” he said. “I’m sure the admiral is eager to meet the one time captain who discovered the Gors.” Caldin turned to look at him and he went on, “That stunt you pulled, trying a probe on one of them might have landed you in krak with the overlord, but it’s going to put you in the admiral’s good books. We don’t waste time blowin’ kisses to skull faces in
this
fleet.”

“That sounds like a welcome change to me, sir,” Caldin replied as she walked up to them. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the corpsman she’d been speaking with, and nodded. He smiled back before turning away.

What passed between them could have been nothing, but Alara had heard the rumors—almost everyone on the
Defiant
had hooked up during the long wait for a rescue. Something about near-certain death and boredom made people’s passions boil over. The only reason Alara hadn’t fallen prey to that herself was that she’d been the one doing the rescuing and the only man within light years had been Delayn. That was just as well. With her slave chip telling her to think and act like a pleasure palace playgirl named Angel, without even wanting to she would have slept with every man on board the
Defiant
before a rescue came.

The one man she could be sure she
really
wanted was Ethan. There was something about him that she just couldn’t forget. Despite the wife he claimed to still be in love with, and regardless of his alleged crimes, Alara couldn’t forget about him. He haunted her dreams and her every waking thought. She ached for him, and deep down, she knew that he was destined to be hers.

But he was also destined to be thrown out an airlock.

She wanted to find the admiral and beg him for Ethan’s release. Whatever he’d been accused of, she loved him, and she knew he was a good man. He wasn’t guilty of anything deserving death. He couldn’t be! She couldn’t explain how she knew, but she did. Alara felt sick.