She and Beringwaite held the machine room until Lovelace stood them down; Alysha stayed to oversee the retraction of the emergency bulkheads in the water environment, and to run checks on its integrity with the Naysha engineers. They’d suffered not even a crack in an external corridor, but the composition of the water….
/Will need to switch out filters,/ Wyn had signed. /These are no good now. Too much material, too quick./
Alysha had swallowed her gorge, thinking of the material in question, and had two ensigns bring her new filters from stores. The procedure for changing them was tedious and involving; her participation spared her no attention to listen for news, and she was exhausted by the end of it. Lovelace accepted her report on the water environment and sent her to the Medplex when she reluctantly admitted to her injuries. The slice was the least of them, apparently, because she’d torn some of the cartilage between her lowest rib and the next highest. “That was luck,” the healer-assist told her. “Whatever did that could have done worse.”
Alysha thought of the suction leading into the navigation chamber and quelled her shudder. “Yes.”
They kept her for an hour while the halo-arch worked on her soft tissue injuries, then released her with instructions not to exert herself for at least twelve hours. When Alysha tried to put herself at Lovelace’s disposal, the NOTC told her everything was under control and to get some sack time. Resigned, she herded half her clod of Flitzbes to her quarters, leaving the half working overtime to help with the wounded. And there, instead of confining themselves to their cozy nest, they bumbled to her bunk and bumped against it until she looked over its edge and trailed a hand over the nearest. A fizz and sparkle lit in her mind, insistent. She didn’t know how she knew they wanted up, but they did. Bewildered, she picked each of them up and set them on her blankets, and as she reached for the next the previous Flitzbe rolled out of the way. By the time she had them all disposed, her side was throbbing and she wasn’t sure if there would be room for her. But she set her head down, and all the Flitzbe rearranged themselves between her body and the bulkhead, and that was strangely comforting.
“I guess this is what you do when you’re in the Medplex,” she murmured.
A vague sense of agreement, accompanied by tranquil dark blue and star nursery purples. Tiny stars sparkled in the vista, and they drew her down, past the agitation of a far too eventful day, to sleep.
* * *
She didn’t hear the entirety of what happened until she reported for duty the following morning.
“A little bit of excitement,” Felix said. For once his tone lacked his customary jocularity, though he didn’t sound grim. “And a good learning experience. For us. Let’s review what went wrong.”
As Beringwaite had guessed, it had been an ambush. The ship waiting for them at the repeater hadn’t been faking its failures: it, itself, had been captured by pirates a month prior. The pirates had towed the wreck to the repeater, manned it, and sent the distress call from it. The ship presented with all the signs of its reported breakdown, but the weapons systems had remained operational, and the pirates had waited until the Songlance was in position to begin repairs before unleashing them. Once it sprang the trap, a second ship had popped out of Well to help. Felix walked them through every error of judgment made by their crew, and it stung. “We were seeing what we expected,” the Seersa had said, ears flattened. “We were lucky we didn’t get hurt more badly for it.”
No one had died, though two people were still in the Medplex for injuries severe enough to require vigilance. The casualty rate was high, though: forty-seven people were on reduced duty while recovering. The Songlance herself had escaped serious damage, but Engineering was going to be pulling double shifts for a few days.
The pirate vessel had escaped, taking most of its crew with it; the Songlance had more bodies than prisoners to interrogate, and the few handful they’d captured weren’t talking. The wreck the Songlance had come to rescue was now salvage, and there were teams on it scavenging for any intelligence on why pirates believed they could hunt battlecruisers with impunity.
“They knew,” Alysha murmured. “About the Platies.”
“And maybe they found out by accident.” Felix gripped the chair. “But maybe they didn’t.”
“Do you think we’ll figure out which?” someone asked.
“We’ll try,” Felix said. “But if we do, thee and me won’t hear about it until we’re much, much more senior.”
* * *
The healers’ insistence that she not swim left her with the novelty of free time in the evening. She spent the time on correspondence, smiling a little to herself at how she tailored her news to suit each recipient. Laelkii would only badger her if she heard about the injury; Taylitha would lecture her if she discussed Beringwaite. Alastar could hear the whole story without judgment, but probably wouldn’t answer for a month, being on a long-range and involving mapping expedition. After sending her mail, she caught up on her reading—her personal reading, since she’d been hip-deep in both Lovelace’s and Felix’s suggested articles. Anthropology journals. The Eagle’s Flight, one of Fleet’s unofficial newsletters and the best of the lot. And the military journals she’d started reading during her Academe years, and had renewed her commitment to after her cruise on the Diamondwing. On a whim, she thumbed through two of those and checked the bios for the article authors. With only three exceptions, they were all human.
She stopped to stare out the flexglass window. Smiled a little, rueful, and kept reading.
Her data tablet chirped an hour later with a message from Jae’en. Spreading it, she found an invitation to an ad hoc skullbash, “because we have things to talk about.” Didn’t they…! She accepted it and set the tablet down, wondering what to bring. Staring at the genie’s menu, she found herself making a decision that had nothing to do with the dessert selection.
Twenty minutes later she was outside Beringwaite’s cabin, chiming for entrance. When he opened it, he squinted at her. “Have you memorized the address? Is that why you keep badgering me, Forrest?”
Alysha thrust a tray at him. “Come to the skullbash, please.”
He had a towel looped around his neck over the uniform’s undertunic—about to shower, or just come out of it? “I just got off duty. You know. Triple shifts in Engineering?”
“That’s why you need to come,” she said. “We’re going to be talking about all of this. Maybe there’s a way we can make it easier on you all.”
“I don’t see how…”
“Exactly,” Alysha said. “You don’t see. That’s the point of these things. More heads are better than one.”
“Forrest—“
“Mike.” She met his eyes, deliberately smiled a crooked smile. “I said please?”
He eyed the tray. “What is this, anyway.”
“Lemon bars. You’re bringing them.”
His sigh was noisy. “Fine, let me get dressed.”
She waited outside, leaning against the bulkhead with her arms folded. When he emerged, he was carrying the tray.
“I still don’t think this is a great idea.”
“It’ll be awkward,” Alysha agreed. “You’re to blame for some of that.”
He snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t say ‘most of it.’”
“I was trying to be diplomatic?”
“I prefer it when you’re honest.”
“Fine,” she said. “You’re responsible for almost all of it. But on the bright side, that means you have the power to fix most of it.”
Beringwaite stared at the ceiling. “Never pull punches, do you.”
“Alysha,” she prompted.
“Alysha.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wouldn’t have brought lemon bars.”
“That’s what happens when other people make your choices for you.”
“I didn’t even know I was supposed to bring anything!”
“And now you do,” Alysha said, surprised to find herself grinning.
Beringwaite shook his head. “You know, you really are insufferable.”
“Am I?” she asked, interested.
“Yes. Being perfect must be a burden.”
She stopped outside the rec hall door. “The last thing I am is perfect, and you should know it. You’ve seen me make mistakes.”
He halted across from her, considered her. “Yeah. I guess I have. And seen you admit them too. But let me tell you something, Alysha.” He lifted the tray. “Lemon is always a mistake. Next time, coconut.”
“Coconut!”
“Or pineapple,” he said. “Pineapple’s good too.” And stepped inside.
Her feelings about Beringwaite had shifted so fundamentally that it was shocking to be confronted with silence when they entered the skullbash’s room. Every head swiveled to them and seized there. Daven stopped chewing his brownie. Three mugs halted en route to their owners’ mouths. Even Jae’en’s long ears dipped, just a little.
“Is this the part where I say you made me bring lemon bars?” Beringwaite said dryly.
She eyed him. “No, this is the part where you say you brought lemon bars and I say I brought you.”
“We should have rehearsed, apparently.”
The silence grew more marked.
“They don’t expect me to make jokes.”
“Because you’ve barely said a handful of words to them and they were probably all obnoxious,” Alysha answered.
“Uh… should we leave the two of you alone?” Jae’en said at last, his mouth almost curving into a smile.
“We’re here for the skullbash and he brought lemon bars,” Alysha said, pulling out a chair.
“She brought lemon bars and made me carry them,” Beringwaite said. “I would have brought something else. That wasn’t lemon.”
Valery looked up from his data tablet, which he’d been gripping hard. “What would you have brought?”
Beringwaite frowned as he set the tray down. “Mango fritters.”
Quiet as everyone digested that.
“I like mango fritters,” Valery said, hesitant. “Or at least, I like fritters. I’ve never had them with mangos.”
“Fine,” Beringwaite said, dropping into a chair and folding his arms over his chest. “We’ve established what junk food I’m supposed to bring next. Is that all? Or do we actually do some work here?”
“You’re being obnoxious again,” Alysha murmured.
“I’m underslept,” Beringwaite said. “And I don’t want to waste my time.”
“By all means, let’s not waste your time, then,” Jae’en said, voice cooling. “Why don’t we start with Engineering. Then if you fall asleep, alet, you won’t miss anything important.”
That was about how it went for the meeting’s entirety. Beringwaite was prickly and abrupt; the other lieutenants curt, resentful, or exasperated by turns. They did, surprisingly, get some work done, and identified several procedures that could be temporarily tuned to help with the double shifts in various departments. But it was the least enjoyable skullbash Alysha had attended, and by the end of it she was working on a headache. At the conclusion, she said to Jae’en and Valery, “I’ll be back to clean up in a moment,” and walked Beringwaite to the rec hall door.
“You could have handled that better,” she said.
“Yeah, well. I’m not here to make things easy for people.”
“Even yourself?” She stopped and faced him. “Look, Mike, not everyone’s going to have a life-threatening experience that changes their minds about you. Granted that, can’t you make more of an effort to not be so abrasive?”
“Will it work?” he said. “I mean really. Are they going to believe I’m willing to try?”
She looked up at him. “I do. And I had less reason than they did to trust you when I got here.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It made her notice the tension in his shoulders, and the hollows under his eyes. “If I say I’ll think about it will you let me off the hook for a night?”
“Will you really think about it?”
Beringwaite scowled at her. “Can you let up for even a minute?”
“I’m too busy saving you,” she said, mouth twitching.
It worked… his mouth started too, and then he guffawed once, disgusted. “Fine. I’ll really think about it.”
She smiled. “Thanks.” And touched his arm. “Good night.”
He glanced at her hand, surprised. Then said, “Yeah. You too. Alysha.”
Back inside, the Aera and Harat-Shar were waiting for her, and neither of them was cleaning. She flipped her ears back, feeling their hoops bounce against her hair. “I did say I would bring him.”
“You did,” Jae’en said, his voice neutral.
“And we got useful information passed around,” Alysha said.
“We did.”
“He’s awful,” Valery muttered.
There was a limit to the amount of caviling she could take, and apparently she’d reached it. Briskly, Alysha said, “He saved my life during the ambush.”
That got their attention. Once she had it, she continued. “We had nine pirates to deal with and he dragged the one fighting me off me.”
Slowly, Jae’en said, “I’m sure anyone would have….”
“And then,” Alysha said, words harder, “when the cut strap on my harness started giving way, he wrapped his arms around me and held me in place while the navigation chamber’s doors opened. You know how strong the suction is in there?” She pointed at her ribcage. “I ripped two ribs apart.”
They had both grown very still, and the insides of Valery’s ears had paled.
“So he’s got an attitude problem,” Alysha said. “I get that. But he’ll never stop having an attitude problem if we don’t give him the breathing room to stop reacting to years of frustration and bitterness. I got him to come. Now it’s up to all of us to make sure he keeps coming.”
Jae’en looked away, long ears dipping until they fell past his shoulders, like a mane. It was Valery who picked up one of the empty cups and said, “He made a joke.”
“He did,” Alysha said.
“And he saved your life? I’d like to hear the full story.”
Alysha nodded. “I could tell you.”
Jae’en heaved a sigh. “It was a pretty good joke.” He picked up a discarded napkin. “And mango fritters sound good.”
“So how did it happen?” Valery asked.
When she paused, Jae’en asked, low, “Did you seriously open the navigation chamber?”
She glanced at him. “You know what that means.”
The Aera nodded, face grim.
“Well I don’t,” Valery said. “So I’d like to find out.” He handed Alysha two of the mugs. “We’re listening.”
And they did, all the way through, at first without interrupting, and then with startled noises and winces and shocked questions, and she knew by morning mid-shift that the details would be all over the ship. While she wasn’t looking forward to her own involvement being discussed, she’d deal with it if it made people look at Beringwaite differently.
On the way out, Jae’en set a hand on her arm. “You’ve made your point, arii. We’ll make the effort.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I won’t forget it.”
* * *
Having decided that her bunk was now their proper resting place, the Flitzbe spent the night burbling soothing dreams into her mind, but even that wasn’t sufficient to make up for too few hours of sleep. Her stint on the bridge the following day seemed to last forever, and the prospect of a long swim afterwards didn’t appeal. But she found the routine comforting amid the tension of a ship still recovering from its misadventure. Nor was she the only one; Felix’s newest drills met with no groans from the rest of the watchstanders, and everyone turned to the extra work assigned them with relief.
Alysha was about to log out of her station when a text message from Sar popped up on the nav board.
Startled, she wrote back.
Alysha swallowed.
This time she sent him a message, rather than running him down—he was still in Engineering and she didn’t want to interrupt. She got an acknowledgment, but didn’t hear from him until an hour later, when he showed up at the door to her cabin. “What’s the problem? Did the Naysha find something the engineering team needs to look at? Besides the alarming issue.”
“I don’t know,” Alysha said, stepping past him into the corridor. She started walking. “They asked for us, that’s all.”
“And you couldn’t take a message?”
She glanced at him. “The navigator asked for us.”
That gave him pause, one long enough to get them to the interface chamber. She found it strange that it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Not restful—there was too much energy between them for that—but not hostile either. Charged, she’d call it, and it accompanied them to the ramp where they both stripped down to the uniform undertunic and donned slimsuits under the watchful, if tired, eyes of one of the ensign specialists.
“We’re going in,” she told him.
“Understood, sir. Lieutenants Forrest and Beringwaite, logged entry at… mark 2113.”
Alysha nodded and walked into the water.
Beringwaite was a better swimmer than she was, she saw. She wondered where he’d learned, and if she’d ever find out. That was likelier now than it had been before. “You understand sign?” she said over the mask’s comm channel. “I asked you that before, didn’t I.”
“You did. I do.” A heartbeat. “The Naysha are... interesting. Not like the rest of the Pelted.”
Easier to accept, she wondered? Maybe for the same reason other people found the Naysha so unsettling, because they really did seem like aliens. She smiled a little and came to a halt as the shapes of Sar and Wyn resolved in the distance. The two Naysha glided toward them and braked short, settling upright with fins stirring in gentle circles.
/I brought him, as asked,/ Alysha said. /Have you met?/
/We have,/ Wyn said, with a nod at Beringwaite.
/But we have not,/ Sar said. /I am Sar. You are the other lieutenant, who manages the engineering team working on our problem./
Beringwaite’s sign was less fluid than Alysha’s, but he had less trouble keeping station off her side than she would have, had she been trying to. /That’s right./
Sar also nodded, creasing the long stalk of her neck. /Wyn is glad you switched the team members./
/I can speak for myself./ Wyn’s chopped words looked testy. /You did the right thing. We might not have fixed the problem yet, but they respect me. I can’t work with people who won’t look at me./
/I get it./ Beringwaite stretched his fingers, then added, /It had to be done./
/Not all things that need doing get done. I wanted to say it to you in person, here. Where the water is truthful./
/What does... that mean?/ Alysha asked, hesitant.
Sar replied, /When there are Platies, it is a bad idea to lie. They feel things. They like clean water./
/That’s the other reason you’re here,/ Wyn agreed. /We watched the camera feed of what you did. It was clever./
/Dangerous,/ Sar said, her motions small enough to seem like a mutter.
/Dangerous,/ Wyn repeated. /Yes. But clever. Hood wants you to know that he appreciates your help keeping the water clean of impurities./
Alysha couldn’t help her quiver. /I would think we added to the impurities./
Wyn cut the water with the flat of his hand. /Not literal. You must think here./ He smacked his chest with a fist. /That is what the Platies perceive most directly./
Sar nodded, grave. /We have, therefore, asked you both here to receive his gratitude. And your names./
/Wait, wait./ Beringwaite held up his hands, then signed clumsily, too quick. /I didn’t do anything. It was her idea, do you understand? If you want to thank anyone—/
Sar’s snort bubbled from her nose. /You think we did not see you keep her from dying?/
/That was impressive,/ Wyn said, for the first time showing a positive emotion on his taciturn face. Admiration. /The current should have ripped her away from you. You are powerful./
/I... work at it,/ Beringwaite signed, the motions faltering. She thought he was blushing, and didn’t blame him. But she didn’t rescue him either. It really had been impressive, and he deserved to know, even if it did make him squirm.
/That was the basis for your name,/ Wyn said. /I get to give it to you./ He brought his hands up, almost ceremoniously. /From now on, you are not Beringwaite./ Spelling it out laboriously, letter by letter, as they had to do with all the Pelted names. /You are Strong Friend./ Two motions, graceful, solid.
Beringwaite stared at him. /You’re... you’re serious./
/It suits you,/ Sar said. /And now you, Lieutenant Forrest. Are you ready?/
Alysha inclined her head. /I’d be honored./
/You are no longer Lieutenant Forrest,/ Sar said. /To the aquatics of the Songlance, you are Who is Willing. Because you have shown that you are./
Alysha crossed her hands over her breast and dipped her head again.
/Now you are properly known,/ Sar said. /Hood would like to come thank you. Strong Friend, you were courageous in the fight. You are brave enough to meet Hood?/
/I... yes./
/Good,/ she said. /He comes!/
And he did, flowing toward them, the shadow gathering under his vast body. Algae rode the current at his side. Alysha floated alongside Beringwaite, and when the Platy passed over them and then past them, brushing at their sides with his edges, Beringwaite didn’t flinch. He turned his eyes up, and she saw in them a flash of that somber awe she’d felt at her first sight of the navigator.
They splashed out of the water environment shortly afterwards, shucking the suits and hanging them to dry. Stopping outside the corridor, Beringwaite said, “That was... that was really something.”
“It was, wasn’t it,” Alysha replied, and let herself really feel it in her bones.
“Living up to those names is going to be rough.”
“I don’t think they gave us names to live up to,” Alysha said. “I think they gave us names we’d already earned.”
He glanced at her, flushed and looked away. “I haven’t been anyone’s friend.”
“You’ve been to Friedman, Solomon and Fayid, and all the other Old and Proud who needed someone to care. You’ve got it in you. And they’re right. You are strong, Mike. It’s just a question of what you’re going to use that strength for.” When his eyes narrowed, she said, “I’ve been where you are. I had to make a similar choice. Do I keep the world out with the weapons I’ve got, or do I let it in and try to make it safe for the people who don’t have those weapons.”
“You make it sound easy,” he muttered.
“It’s the hardest thing in the world,” Alysha said. “But it’s the kind of hard that rewards you, because the more you work at it, the stronger you get.” When he shifted his weight on his feet, she said, “Look, this chip on your shoulder... just let it go. Fleet needs you now. And it’s going to need you even more when things get tough. I know you can do this, because you did it in the water. When the crisis hit, you came through for me, for the Naysha, for everyone on the Songlance.”
Beringwaite pressed his hand to his eyes. “Overdoing it, Forrest.”
“Which part?” she asked, innocent.
“The whole ‘be the best you can be’ bit. And the ‘be a hero’ bit.”
She laughed. “I’m overdoing it because you still don’t get it, Mike.” When he looked up, she said, “You already are a hero today.” She looked at the ceiling. “Being the best must be a burden. How do you handle it.”
A choked noise made it out of his throat. “You’re still insufferable.”
“I try. Just to get under your skin, you understand.”
“Don’t you.” He looked down the corridor, sighed. Managed a lopsided smile. “Let’s go get a beer. Alysha.”
“The last one was too heavy. What should I try next?”
“I don’t know. I’m tired. We could order a flight.”
“That sounds dangerous,” Alysha said, thoughtful.
He grinned, tired. “I don’t know, the way we work, I think the distance between drunk and asleep is about this wide.” He pinched the air with his fingers. As they started toward the Officer’s Club, he added, “So, have you saved me yet?”
Alysha chuckled, folding her hands behind her back. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job on your own.”
* * *
It seemed like forever since she’d sat in Lovelace’s office for a meeting. But the ship was finally returning to its normal operating tempo, and with the double schedule canceled all the normal business of a Fleet battlecruiser had resumed. Alysha had even managed to get some sleep, at some point, despite the mound of Flitzbe that insisted on cuddling her.
Nothing in this room had changed. Lovelace’s spartan desk, with its single data tablet and host of glowing, hovering projections of ship’s statuses. The few enigmatic pictures on the wall of the human with various teams from parts of the Terran Navy that Alysha couldn’t identify by sight or insignia—yet. And the woman herself, so correct in her uniform and yet looking utterly out-of-place in it, as if Fleet had attempted to buff a high gloss on a battle-scarred weapon. The source of humanity’s strength, Alysha thought. The strength the Pelted did not always recognize and needed. The strength they devalued too much.
“So, Forrest. Everything back to normal?”
Alysha nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lovelace’s hand stopped on the way to her data tablet. “I beg your pardon?”
What had she said? Oh—“I’m sorry,” she said. “I meant sir.”
“Did you,” Lovelace said, eyebrow lifting.
“I’ve been keeping company with some of the humans,” Alysha said. Thinking of Beringwaite, “You talk like the people you’re around.”
Lovelace mmmed and picked the tablet up. “I don’t mind ‘ma’am’ if it slips out, Lieutenant, but in Fleet sir is considered standard. It might confuse people.”
“Understood, sir.”
Lovelace nodded. “How are you feeling about your performance during the incident?”
During ‘the incident.’ She looked down at her hands. “I killed people. More than one person.”
“Bothering you any?”
“No,” Alysha said, slowly, ears flattening. “They were here to kill us first. I don’t regret it. But I feel... strange. Like it should have bothered me more.”
“You don’t seem very enthusiastic to me.” Lovelace folded her hands on her data tablet. “You sure it’s not bothering you?”
“Maybe it is,” Alysha said. “But... you’ve seen the navigator?” At Lovelace’s nod, she continued. “I feel like I was in his world, not ours. And that world was a lot... more... animal than ours. And maybe more mythic. I don’t know how I feel about any of it.”
“I hear the Naysha were pleased with you and Mister Beringwaite.”
Alysha nodded.
“It’s perfectly fine not to be ready to talk about it,” Lovelace said. “But when you decide you need to, find someone. Me, someone in the Medplex. A friend.”
“I will, sir.”
“Good,” Lovelace said. “Then with that set aside for the moment... I hope you had time to work on your reading.”
Alysha suppressed her sigh and smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s hear your thoughts on Daundileon’s article on leadership as an advanced form of stewardship, then.”
It wasn’t until they were done and Alysha was heading for the door that Lovelace said, “Sure there’s not something still on your mind?”
Alysha stopped and bowed her head, shook it a little. “Don’t tell me it was obvious?”
Lovelace grinned. “Comes with age, Forrest. Age and experience. Let me have a guess. Still chewing on trust issues? Did you figure out how to tell when someone’s the right person for the job?”
Alysha set her hand on the doorframe. Who is Willing, something in her whispered. Because it wasn’t enough to be open to the simple situations, the people who made it easy. The challenges demanded more of them, and wasn’t that why they were here? “No, ma’am. But I might be a little closer to figuring it out.”
Lovelace hahed, quiet. “Good for you, Lieutenant. Stay humble and work hard. It’ll get you where you need to go.”
“Yes, sir,” Alysha said.