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SAREE PACED, TRYING to burn off her nervous energy.
“We had nothing to do with that,” Grant said again, with forced patience. “We retrieved our package and left. Whatever happened to the Borgia family compartment is due to Borgia. If he’s not talking, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve told you what I know. Now, are you going to protect us on our way out of here or do you want a firefight in your fold orbits?”
“Clobbered Turkey, I show you latched,” Loreli said. “Perform checks and report anomalies.”
Saree plopped down in her seat, opened folder-wide comms, and said, “Initiating thrust for fold point in five, four, three, two, execute.” She punched at the holo with more force than necessary, watching the thruster status. “Clobbered Turkey, Al-Kindi waits at your airlock. You’re welcome to join us in the command center, but nothing’s changed, so I recommend you get some sleep. We’ll let you know if there’s an attack.”
“Copy that, command,” Porter said. “Sending your people back. We’ll hit the rack. Doc is still processing Borgia. Nari is stable. Los is monitoring her but he’ll hand over to Al-Kindi.”
“Lightwave out,” Saree replied. She checked Nari’s med status. As Porter said, there was no change.
Ruhger walked in. “I heard your argument with the station. Anything else?”
Chief slapped his wrench into his palm and shook his head. “They’re still non-committal. If weapons start firing, that will change, but I don’t know if it will be in our favor. They suspect we have Borgia, but they don’t know, and I don’t think they want to know. They got into the family compartment with Rocco’s help, but they can’t get into the master suite, even though we told them how we did it. The suite has entered vacuum mode, and all the external accesses are shut down. Which isn’t our problem, but they seem to think it is.” Chief grunted. “Go take a shower, then relieve me.”
Ruhger nodded, turned on his heel and walked back out, not even glancing at her.
Saree sighed.
Chief said, “It will be hours before anything happens. Ruhger slept on the Turkey and he’ll probably nap while we thrust—he can take over for both of us. If Phalanx Eagle fires at us soon, they’ll hit the station or another vessel in orbit, and they’re not going to do that. Not if they want to live. Then our orbits diverge enough to prevent any shot, so you can get some rest. Loreli, Grant,” he said louder, “Tyron and Katryn will take over for you, but it will be a bit.”
Grant laughed. “Oh, I know. Adrenaline, close calls, all that. I’ll happily give them the chance to work it all off.”
“Can’t get in the way of true love, dahrling,” Loreli said. “Self-serve breakfast is in the dining hall. Make sure you eat! I’ll send reminders to everyone else.”
Saree was too anxious to eat; her stomach wouldn’t handle it well. But Chief was right, she did need sleep. There was no reason to be stressed now, with so many hours to go before anything could happen. Even a stealth-guided torpedo would take hours to arrive, and they had surveillance set. Chief considered using theirs against PE, but they’d decided Wreck wasn’t foolish enough to minimize his rear shielding when there wasn’t any reason to, like an active firefight. She checked the thruster status and navigation—all nominal—and got up to pace again, unable to remain in her seat.
“Saree, why don’t you go now,” Chief said. “Do some meditation, calm your mind and body. I’ll changeover with Ruhger. No need for you to be here.”
“Are you sure?” Saree asked.
Chief nodded. “Yes. It’s going to take time for you to wind down. Go.”
“All right. Thanks, Chief. And you did a great job.”
Chief smiled. “Thanks. You did too. Sleep well.”
Saree left her operations center. It felt wrong to leave when she was in charge, but Chief was right. Nothing would happen for a long time and he needed to talk to Ruhger. She was only nominally in charge, Chief had command, and he didn’t need her for the formality of a change of command the two of them had done a billion times. She entered the crew quarters, climbed the stairs and walked slowly to her compartment.
Ruhger clattered down the stairs from Alpha shuttle, still in armor.
“I thought you were showering?” Saree blurted.
“I did.” He stopped, meeting her eyes without emotion.
Saree saw his hair was still wet. She was a fool.
“But if there’s any chance of a firefight, I’d rather be in my armor.” The corners of his lips turned up in his tiny smile. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to sleep in your armor. I’m used to it, doesn’t bother me at all. You’ll have time to get yours on before anything catastrophic happens.” Ruhger huffed. “Unless the station decides to take us out. Then it won’t matter.” He shook his head slightly and the little emotion he displayed disappeared. “Get some sleep.” Ruhger nodded and strode away.
Saree stared back at him. She rarely heard that much from Ruhger. His abrupt departure seemed to signal he was uncomfortable with his own words, but it was hard to tell if that was true. He should play on the high-stakes card games circuit; he’d make a killing.
She trudged to her compartment and let herself in, going through her usual nighttime routine. Lying down on the bed, she tried to relax into sleep, but one thought kept running through her head: how was Ruhger burning off his adrenaline? She could admit, but only deep in her mind, to wishing he’d work it off with her. Finally, she started a meditation sequence, determined to wipe all her inconvenient thoughts away and sleep.
#
RUHGER PACED THE COMMAND center. There was no reason for him to be here; he could stay in Alpha shuttle and run everything. But the command center had more room to roam and he was both well-rested but still swimming with delayed adrenaline response, so pacing room won over comfortable familiarity. He’d told Tyron and Katryn to stay in their compartment. He’d wake them if necessary, and it was doubtful he’d need them anytime soon. He envied their relationship.
Hours passed. Ruhger alternated between checking surveillance, walking, and napping.
At zero-five ship time, Porter walked in, looking well-rested, in tight black leggings and a low-cut dark blue tank top. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” Ruhger answered. “There’s no change.”
“Copy that. No change with Nari. Al-Kindi is sleeping next to her. Borgia’s awake and howling, but Doc’s got him contained.” Porter snorted. “Good thing that biohazard container is soundproof. He’s a rad-blaster if there ever was one.”
Ruhger huffed a laugh. “No kidding. And his cologne is truly awful. I hope Doc gave him a bath, because he stinks.”
“Doc washed him down while Borgia was still unconscious, but he didn’t smell anything; he was in a biohazard suit. Doc did say there were a number of noxious chemicals coming from his body and he’d be changing the filters a lot. We might even lose some air.” Porter narrowed her eyes. “Got any extra?”
“Certainly. You’re doing this for us, after all.”
Porter wrinkled her nose. “Only partially. Gov Human is unhappy with him. Once he crossed the line into attributable acts, it was easy to act in return. Especially when his family and Familia at large believe he’s unstable.” She shrugged. “We’ll turn him over to a Gov Human facility as soon as we possible. It might be better to fold to a big Gov Human medico facility, one that can handle him and Nari Al-Kindi. Dump the problem and the non-combatants.”
“I’m not sure how Clutch Leader Saree will feel about that. They are friends.”
Porter raised her brows. “A real friend wants her friends out of the line of fire.”
“She’s put Nari’s safety above her own happiness before, I’m sure she’ll do it again. She’ll do almost anything to keep her friends safe.”
Porter’s expression turned speculative. “And are you friends? Or more?”
“Neither,” Ruhger said coldly. He had no intention of letting this woman probe his emotional state.
“What’s the status on Phalanx Eagle?”
“We’re blocked by the sun right now. There’s a targeting solution in an hour, but it’s a bad one; it would graze a station, and the station would then take them out.” Ruhger shrugged. “I think they’ll wait until we’re farther out-system, so they can take their shots without blasting stations or the planet.”
Porter smiled. “We could do a lot in an hour. Want to go work off some stress?”
Ruhger rocked back on his heels. He hadn’t seen that coming at all.
She held up a hand. “Never mind. I see the thought never occurred to you.” Porter snorted. “Figures.”
“Sorry, I don’t have relations on my ship. I’m the Captain.”
Porter raised both brows. “Must be doubly frustrating, then, being under the command of a newbie like Saree.” She laughed and turned away, saying over her shoulder, “Well, good luck with that. Let me know when we’re in range.”
“If you’re looking for a physical release, talk to Grant,” Ruhger said.
Porter waved lazily over her shoulder in response.
Ruhger watched Porter walk away, hips swinging. She wasn’t unattractive and she was definitely physically fit. But not on his ship. Not with a Gov Human operative. And he could admit, deep down, that Porter wasn’t the one he wanted. But Saree of Jericho was more off-limits than ever. Even if he was the Captain of his ship, she was in charge, and smart leaders didn’t mess around in their chain of command. It made for a very bad situation if a relationship ended.
Ruhger mourned what could never be.
#
SAREE GAZED AROUND her command center. Their first joint mission was successful, so why didn’t she feel better about it? Maybe because she hadn’t done anything real, just stood around and watched Chief. She appreciated Chief’s patience; he’d gone out of his way to explain his thought processes and decisions during the battle. She’d planned folds and evasive maneuvers in response to those decisions, but that was nothing new. Piloting was easy in comparison to the big picture of operational command. She had so much to learn. If only Hal was here. He could read every book on leadership that ever existed, human and alien, and distill it all down for her. She wouldn’t blunder about, like a blind rat.
She shuddered. Rats were disgusting. Good thing anti-vermin lasers were so effective.
One thing all the books said, leaders had to stay apart from their people, not be “one of the group” or “the group” wouldn’t snap to and obey when it counted. That didn’t seem to be the case with Ruhger and Chief. Or the rest of Lightwave’s crew. Perhaps because they’d all grown up together? They were more a family than a military unit, their roles shifting as circumstances dictated, with Chief, Ruhger, Grant and Tyron all taking leadership when it was their area of expertise. Maybe that was natural in a close-knit unit, that a technical expert took over in those areas? Or maybe Chief or Ruhger was still in charge, but knew their technical experts so well, and trusted them so much, that they knew the expert would do the right thing?
Hal would know.
Or would he? He was young, younger than she was, and he didn’t always interpret human emotions correctly. Maybe she was better off without him, right now, feeling her way along without trying to train an artificial intelligence convinced it knew everything when it didn’t. Saree snorted. The two of them together might be disastrous, magnifying their ignorance and arrogance rather than learning.
But she still missed Hal.
Well, there were more important things to do. Like figure out how they were going to escape without a firefight or folding out early and angering yet another system. Saree shook her head. They were banned from so many places...
Wait a minute. She hadn’t checked the fold clock. One of the higher-status clutches tuned Canis Major’s frequency standards. Each system in the constellation had an extensive set of linked frequency standards, constantly updating each other from the Time Guild clock. But after the Laniakea Fleet and the Warriors left, a lot of other fold transports fled and a swarm of message pods folded. Significant warping must have occurred. Could she use this to her advantage without exposing herself to immediate danger? Sirius Fold Control broadcasted demands—folders must wait for their assigned slots, or receive huge fines or even get banned from Sirius. Most hadn’t listened, wanting to escape an active threat. Dead beings couldn’t spend credits.
All those ships folding must have warped the time standards. Saree could tell Sirius Fold Control that if they actively protected Lightwave, she could get the clock updated. She should discuss this with Chief and the Captain.
But why wait? Why not make this decision herself? She was Clutch Leader. It was her job and her risk to take. She was the only one in true danger here; the rest were merely along for the ride. Yes, they were in danger from PE, but that was a clear and present danger, one that was obvious. The only secret not revealed here in Sirius to everyone was her identity as the “human Clocker.” Saree’s mouth twisted in distaste at the title. Would revealing herself create a bigger risk than the reward? Especially when the secret was getting out anyway?
If she told Sirius fold control she could ensure the clock was updated but didn’t specifically state how, there would still be a question in everyone’s mind. Or would there? Without Hal to spoof Sirius’s sensors, they’d know the shuttle flying to the clock came from Lightwave. What if she did it now, before the negotiations, and programmed it to switch over right before PE’s targeting solution against them cleared? Sirius Fold Control wouldn’t notice a shuttle trip to the clock, would they? Local controllers might notice—no, they would definitely notice—but maybe Katryn could spoof those sensors the way Hal would? But asking Katryn for anything meant bringing the Captain or Chief into the loop, because Katryn wouldn’t just do what she asked. Neither would Tyron.
She needed her own crew, people loyal to her. People who would do what she commanded.
Blast it all into a sun. This would work. A trade for services was always better than a fight. Maybe if she offered the deal to Sirius Fold Control, implying her pull with Gov Human on Sa’sa was the reason the Warriors were here to begin with? After all, they’d never deployed with a Gov Human fleet before. If she cut a deal with Sirius Fold Control, then she’d have leverage to force Lightwave’s crew to comply with her demands to spoof their sensors and mask her shuttle. Saree frowned. Could Katryn even do that? Maybe Hal couldn’t either, not in a core system with multiple sensor suites and multiple control stations. And Familia everywhere with their own sensor suites. Along with multiple other entities all gathering intelligence.
Hmm. Maybe she could send a message to Sirius Fold Control through the Time Guild interface, telling them the clock would be updated once the “egg eaters” in the outer fold orbits were destroyed. She’d never used the Time Guild messaging system with fold controllers; in the past, it was better no one knew she was coming. Saree pulled up the messaging interface. Oh. It’s all in Sa’sa. She didn’t know written Sa’sa well enough to do much more than check transuranic frequency sources. But there had to be a translation system, because fold controllers couldn’t read Sa’sa. Sweeping through the screens, she couldn’t understand enough of the script to find the translator either. Blast and rad.
Saree plopped down into her chair and tapped a martial theme. So, she couldn’t update the clock without being noticed. The only other reason to fly to a Time Guild clock was refueling. Could she check the fuel status on the clock? That wasn’t part of the Time Guild’s interface, because it was a local system responsibility. Or maybe they could spoof the fuel reading, send the refueler flying out there and shadow it, spoofing their sensors too, then stay there and update the clock? But they’d be seen leaving the clock. Suns. There wasn’t an easy answer.
“Deep thoughts?” Ruhger asked.
She jumped.
Ruhger huffed, a slightly amused sound. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
Saree scowled at him. “I’m sure. But yes, I’m trying to figure out a way to bargain a clock tuning with Sirius Fold Control for protection from PE.”
“Without revealing yourself?” Ruhger scowled. “I don’t see how.”
“If we could check the fuel status on the clock, make it look low, then shadow the refueler out there, that would get me there. But we’d be seen flying back.”
Ruhger’s lips lifted on the corners, his equivalent of a smile. “You’re thinking like a mudhugger, not a spacer.”
“You’ve got a better idea?”
“Yes, I do.” Ruhger huffed a chuckle. “This will be fun.”