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“GOT SOMETHING, FINALLY,” Tyron said, Katryn fidgeting beside him.
Thank the seven suns of Saga. “What is it?” Ruhger asked.
“We found Borgia.” Tyron didn’t look happy.
“Really? Good work. Where?”
Tyron grimaced. “That’s the part you’re not going to like. I don’t like it either. Canis Major.”
Ruhger’s entire body clenched. Of course. The start, or end, of it all. “Blast and rad. Don’t tell me, Sirius?”
Tyron nodded, his face grim.
“Of course. Do we know where in Sirius? One of the planets or stations?”
“Gianni Station. It’s Familia, so obviously they’re supporting Borgia to some extent. Going there isn’t a good idea. Not without an entire fleet.”
Ruhger asked the obvious question. “So, where do we go? Someplace nearby, where we can get proof of Borgia’s location, send it off to Familia and tell them ‘solve this, now’? I don’t understand why they are supporting him.”
“He’s got a lot of dirt on a lot of Familia leaders, his relatives are powerful in Familia, and he’s an expert poisoner,” Katryn said. “Rumor says a lot of the Familia heads gave their bodyguards ‘shoot to kill on sight’ orders. They don’t want Borgia anywhere near them, physically. But they can’t afford to anger his relatives, and so far, Borgia’s blood family is still supporting him. There’s also strong support for the claim Borgia is dying. No one says why, exactly, but rumors say it’s all the poisons over the years catching up with him. Regardless, Borgia’s family isn’t worried about ‘a girl from nowhere with no power.’”
“Well, she’s got power now,” the Sch—Saree said, striding into the chow hall.
Ruhger just stared at her for a few seconds. What was she wearing?
“Dahrling, what are you wearing?!” Loreli exclaimed, echoing him. “My eyes are bleeding!”
Ruhger shot an incredulous look at Loreli. That was uncharacteristically blunt, if true. He turned back to Saree and squinted. Her...costume, for lack of a better word, was a fairly standard ship coverall, but in a garish bright purple, with gold braid on the shoulders and around the sleeves. She also wore her Time Guild jewels, the deep red of the rubies clashing terribly with the too-light, too-bright purple.
Hurt flashed across her face, then it blanked, completely emotionless. “A uniform for Lightwave clutch. None of the Sa’sa clock-tuning clutches use purple as their main color, and some sort of rank designation is required for humans.”
“Dahrling, I love you, but I am not wearing that,” Loreli said with a whole-body shudder.
“Of course not. You’re a Chef; you wear white.” Her tone was higher, a little shaky, and her shoulders drooped slightly.
Grant snorted. “You’re not getting any of us in that. Remember, we designed a tartan uniform. That—” he waved his hand toward Saree “—is appalling. Loreli and I will work with you to develop something suitable. What’s wrong with the purple in your Scholar robes? That wasn’t eye-searing.”
Saree drew herself up and glared at Grant. “The Sa’sa wear bright colors. If we’re a clutch, we have to conform visually, so they understand who we are.”
“Saree,” Chief said, “doesn’t Sa’sa vision extend to different frequencies than human eyes? I believe you may find their clutch and guild uniforms look entirely different under ultraviolet light.”
“And why are you conforming to the clutch standard anyway?” Tyron asked. “I understand we should do that for the Sa’sa, for now, but I don’t see any reason to conform other than a naming convention. Humans aren’t going to need an entire clutch. When human clock maintainers are less rare, each clock-tuning ‘clutch’ will need a single human, or maybe a couple of humans, a folder, and a small team for protection. Humans don’t need a huge, extended family tribe, although maybe they’ll want one.”
Saree scowled. “Am I the leader of Lightwave clutch or not? And aren’t you members?”
Ruhger sighed internally. Time to shut this down. “Time Guild Member Saree, you are the leader of Lightwave clutch. But remember, we are conscripted members. We’re not in this by choice. So, the least you can do is give us some control over the inconsequential details. And uniforms are extremely inconsequential.” He turned away from her and scanned his crew. “Let’s not all pile on. Loreli and Grant can take this project on with the clutch leader.” Ruhger grimaced at the taste of the words in his mouth. Evidently, he had bigger issues with control than he thought.
“Before we do anything, it’s time to dine!” Loreli proclaimed. “No formality today, just family style, Sirius comfort food.” She waved a hand up and down. “We’ll work on... all this later. Ah, Al-Kindi, you are right on time. Welcome.”
Thank the suns. Perhaps by the time dinner was over, the Guild Member would recover her common sense. Ruhger sat and considered her. Saree was very good at hiding her emotions, but he could see a wide range of rather strong feelings right now. Bewilderment, pride, hurt, and others flashed, then disappeared into a blank mask. The dark circles under her eyes seemed deeper, highlighted by her pale, but dull and sagging skin. So, she still wasn’t sleeping.
Tryon nudged him. “Ruhger.”
Ruhger jumped and turned to Tyron, taking the serving dish. “Sorry.”
Tyron smiled. “No problem.” Dropping his volume, he said, “I’m worried. She’s not sleeping and clearly not thinking. And where did this idea that we need uniforms come from?” He shrugged a little, keeping his eyes on his plate. “We like uniforms, because that’s how we grew up. But her? Something’s going on.” Tyron turned away to get another dish from Katryn.
Ruhger hurried to scoop some of the dish—some sort of pasta and cheese—and pass the dish to Chief.
Chief said, very quietly, “I’m worried, Ruhger. Something’s not right with her. You need to talk to Saree.”
“Got it. I’ll take care of it.”
Chief grunted. “I’m not the only one telling you that, huh?” He served himself and passed the dish on.
Even Al-Kindi cast concerned glances, despite his obvious worry over the new developments in Nari’s abduction.
Ruhger filled his plate but considered the problem of the Time Guild Member. Perhaps if he suggested some mediation after dinner? That might slow her thoughts, put her in the right frame of mind for sleep. He carefully didn’t contemplate other, more pleasurable activities they could do together, ensuring deep, dreamless, comforting sleep.
#
SAREE TORE OFF THE uniform and hurled it at the recycler. It fell short. How dare they! So rude! She was the commander, the top of the chain! They should be listening for her every word, not pushing back. Testing her. Suggesting she “meditate to regain her equilibrium.” Saree paced around the confines of her compartment. She was the leader. Just like the Sa’sa clutch, they should be asking “how high?” when she told them to jump. And Captain Ruhger should know better than the rest of them. It wasn’t right. He was the last person who should push back against her commands. He knew what it was like to lead people.
She flopped down on her couch and stared at the overhead. But the Captain had grown up in a military command structure. And his parents were at the top of the chain. So maybe he didn’t have to work for his command position. It was handed to Captain Ruhger on a platter. Wait a nanosecond. Saree tapped out a march. Maybe part of the problem was her formality with him. Calling him “Captain” gave him the respect that she needed. She didn’t have to call him by his title; she outranked him by virtue of being a clutch leader.
Maybe the two ranks weren’t directly comparable, but still, he worked for her, not the other way around. She had every right to call him by his first name, put him in his proper place. She’d start tomorrow. First, she needed some sleep.
Saree got up and pulled the couch back into the bed configuration. All the books said your work and living areas should be as tidy as your mind, but was it really a problem to leave this as a bed, so long as she made it neatly? No one saw it but her.
She lay down and snuggled under the covers, but she couldn’t get comfortable. She was too angry, to wound up to settle. But she needed sleep. Saree sighed and reached for the bottle. She’d use one of the two pills left, just enough to get her to sleep tonight, then fix everything tomorrow. With everyone in place and obeying her unquestioningly, she could rest easy.
The pill dissolved on her tongue and before long, she faded into sleep.
#
RUHGER STOOD STILL, content to breathe and feel the pleasant exhaustion of a good hard phys session. When he opened his eyes, his contentment dissipated like O2 from a leaky hatch seal. The Sch—Saree stood not a meter in front of him, impatience clear in the crossed arms, tapping foot and scowling expression. Thank all the suns she’d lost the purple thing. But now what?
“Ruhger, we need to talk.”
“Certainly.” Exhaustion showed in her slightly slumped but tense shoulders and the even darker circles around her eyes. “We do need to talk, Saree.” Her name felt odd on his tongue. “You’re clearly exhausted and not thinking straight. I suggest we meditate together, right now.” He acted on his words, sinking to the mat in a cross-legged position.
She stared at him, open-mouthed for a few seconds, then went rigid, clenching her fists, fury narrowing her eyes. “No. That’s not what we need to do. Actually, we don’t need to talk at all. You need to listen and obey. We’re going to Canis Major, to Sirius, to Gianni Station and getting Nari back. Now.”
Obey? Was she serious? “With what fleet, Saree?” He kept his tone even and face blank, but it took some effort.
“Time Guild Warriors.” She raised her chin. “I’ve already made the request as Lightwave Clutch Leader.” She glared harder. “Which is my proper title. Clutch Leader Saree. I’m sure my demand will be honored; the Warrior class is always happy to do their real mission. The clutch in Canis Major will send us two of their three folders.”
“When will we get word of how many forces and where they will meet us? How will you communicate our mission objectives to them when none of us speak the language? Military assault requires close coordination.”
“I don’t see any point in planning an assault. We show up with Sa’sa Warriors, they surrender.” She waved a hand. “It’s that simple.”
Ruhger’s eyes stung. He blinked several times to remoisten them after being held open in astonishment for so long. “S-Saree,” he stuttered over her name, “failure to plan guarantees failure. In military action, failure means death. Are you prepared to risk death for yourself and everyone around you because you didn’t take the time to properly plan? To coordinate action with your military forces?”
“A plan never survives first contact with the enemy, so why plan at all? Nothing we’ve planned has worked.” She flung both arms up and stomped in a small circle. “And it’s Leader Saree to you.” She glared down at him.
Oh, blast it all into the giant black hole of Andromeda! Now he knew what was going on in her head. At least partially. Suns save him from junior officers with their overconfidence, pride and insecurity. Ruhger made himself smile, hoping it was inviting. Senior leaders helped him; it was time to pay back the favor. “Clutch Leader Saree, won’t you have a seat, please?” He was very careful to avoid any sarcasm.
She opened her mouth, closed it and sat. “Certainly. What can I do for you, Ca—Ruhger?”
Ruhger didn’t snort, but it was close. “Von Moltke, the Old Earth warrior who coined that phrase, meant it’s because a plan never survives that we must plan. And plan for the worst case, not the best. Plans with multiple branches, multiple contingencies. I’ll admit, we haven’t demonstrated the concept well since you joined us. We’ve been in the ‘adapt and overcome’ mode, adjusting on the fly to our circumstances.” Ruhger huffed regretfully. “It’s been my failure to plan that’s landed us in a number of these circumstances. If I’d planned for more potential problems, we wouldn’t be in this mess now.”
She gazed at him, puzzled. “I don’t see how. You didn’t have all the information you needed to plan. You didn’t know who I was until just before we left Lacerta. And that caused Al-Kindi to leave us and the subsequent problems with Familia and the rest of it.”
“Well, that’s a generous interpretation, Clutch Leader, but I was speaking of more recent events. For example, our plan to recover Nari the first time. Our plan was built anticipating success, not failure.”
“We didn’t have much of a chance to begin with, you said that. I’m fairly certain we didn’t have alternates and branches because there weren’t any.”
Ruhger shook his head. “I didn’t look hard enough. There are always alternatives. And if there aren’t, perhaps it isn’t the right action to take in the first place. It’s guaranteed failure. And it was. Ships and people died. That’s on my soul.”
“No, it isn’t. The clutch is my responsibility. I pushed for Nari’s retrieval. Those deaths are mine.” Saree looked shaken, uncertain.
As she should be. Leadership wasn’t flinging orders around, it was responsibility. Too few understood that concept. “I believe there is plenty of blame to go around. I also believe blame and guilt aren’t terribly useful, unless you learn something so you can do better the next time.” Ruhger considered the situation for a moment. “Hostage situations are always difficult. Especially hostage exchanges in space. We should have said no, that the trade had to take place on a station or a planet. But they would have said no. It’s next to impossible to win with a deliberate exchange, unless you can prep the battlespace ahead of time and have overwhelming forces.”
“I see. I have a lot to learn about battles in space.”
Ruhger shrugged. “That’s why you have us.”
“And us,” Porter said, walking in, closing the phys mod hatch and sitting to his right, where she could see both of them and the hatch. “You can only be an expert in so many things. Yours is clocks and the Sa’sa. Mine is hostage rescue and covert operations. Captain Ruhger’s is fold.” She smiled at him, a bit of a challenge in it. “And covert operations.”
Los must have invaded their comm system—again. Ruhger hid his grimace. It was more important to talk Saree down. And Porter was actually admitting his crew were good at a military task. “Essentially.” Ruhger shrugged. “There are other things we can do, but those are where my expertise lies.”
“An expert on the Sa’sa?” Saree asked skeptically.
“You’re as close as humans get, I think,” Porter said.
“Not as good as some of the interpreters, but as close as you’ll find away from Sa’sa, I guess.” Saree sighed. “I’ll have to be good enough if I’m communicating our plan to Warriors.”
Porter smiled slightly. “But more important, Clutch Leader Saree, is the responsibility a leader has to her people. Captain Ruhger is right. We shouldn’t have accepted Phalanx Eagle’s terms for the exchange. It was a no-win scenario. I let my need for a successful mission override both my responsibility to my troops, my knowledge of tactical operations and my common sense. Pride comes before a fall and I had far too much of it. I could have easily gotten some of my people or this crew killed due to my hubris. Some of the Circinus people were killed and they lost ships. Do you want to make the same mistake?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Then I recommend you listen to Captain Ruhger’s suggestion for meditation, and let Doc do a physical examination. You are not sleeping, or if you are sleeping, it’s not adequate.” Saree scowled and Porter held up a hand. “It’s in your face. I don’t have any access to your medical data, nor do I want it. Have you looked in a mirror lately? You’re paler than pale and the circles under your eyes make the giant black hole of Andromeda look bright. Whatever you are doing isn’t working. I’m telling you this, leader to leader, as a courtesy. If you fail to accept this constructive criticism, I tell you now that Gov Human will decline to support any action not fully planned with multiple courses of action for success and failure.”
Saree was full out glaring at Porter. She really wasn’t thinking straight at all.
“Clutch Leader Saree, Chief Porter is correct. You need some real rest. Whatever you are doing isn’t working. I suggest we skip meditation and you get that consult with Doctor Holliday immediately. You aren’t sleeping, and more importantly, you aren’t thinking. When was the last time you meditated or entered ^timespace^?”
Porter jumped in before Saree could retort. “There’s an ancient Old Earth military saying: You can do without sleep or without food, but not both. From the state of your body, you’re not eating or hydrating properly either. Let Doc take a look.” She shook her head, lips compressed and eyes narrowed. “You’re not in command shape.”
Saree drew herself up proudly. “You are wrong, but to prove it, I’ll let Doctor Holliday do his exam. You’ll see.” She rose, wavering a bit. Probably a head rush from standing too fast and exhaustion.
Ruhger held back his reaction.
Porter said, “Doc’s waiting for you just outside.”
They waited until Saree opened the hatch and Doc led her away.
Ruhger let out a sigh of relief, echoed by Porter, and they grimaced uneasily at each other.
“Well, that went better than I thought it might,” Porter said.
“She’s not stupid, just not in her right mind, and insecure.” Ruhger shrugged. “Typical junior officer.”
Porter nodded. “Yes. Without the training she should have.” Porter sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m getting too old for this blast and rad.”
Ruhger snorted. “You and me both.”
Porter smiled at him, a smile of shared commiseration. “So, while she’s in the medfloat, let’s go look at intel and come up with some plans.”
“Plans that include the Sa’sa Warriors, who aren’t used to working with anyone.”
“Do you think she actually contacted them already?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.” Ruhger shrugged. “She really isn’t thinking clearly.”
“This will be fun.” Porter got up.
“Won’t it?” Now that Saree couldn’t see, Ruhger rolled his eyes. He and Porter had a commonality of purpose right now, but how long would this working relationship remain solid? Ruhger bet it wouldn’t last through the first exchange of intelligence, because Gov Human would hold everything back they could. But he had to try.