Burnt Worlds (17 page)

She leaned back in the chair, willing herself to feel awake, concentrating on her posture and her expression.
 
As the airlock hissed its way through its cycle, she looked over at the bed where her tiara and gloves lay.
 
She realised she was only wearing a loose floor-length robe.
 
She sighed, but didn’t get up.

The inner door opened, and Chief Black stepped in.
 
She took one look at the Tassali, and her eyes went wide.
 
Clumsily pivoting on one boot, she turned around to face the door.
 
“Ma’am, I apologise, I didn’t—”

“It is not a concern,” came the Palani’s harmonic voice.
 
“The hour is late, and I am fatigued, but you are still welcome.
 
Are you well?
 
You should rest after giving so much blood.”

The human woman slowly turned around, and gave a weak smile when the Tassali nodded to the cabin’s other chair.

Chief Black, pale-faced and unsteady on her feet, quickly dropped herself onto the seat.
 
“Thank you, ma’am.
 
The computer said that your cabin was up to sixteen degrees.
 
I wanted to make sure we arranged for it to be fixed.”
 

The Palani gave a faint smile.
 
“Thank you, Chief Black.
 
I have been moving the temperature higher over the past few days, to acclimatise myself closer to the ship’s temperature.”

“Oh?
 
Well then...”
 
The human hesitated.

“But,” said the Tassali, “that is not why you are here.”

“Well, no, ma’am.
 
I probably shouldn’t be here.
 
This is breaking a whole pile of regs.
 
But I wanted to say thanks.”

“Then we will not tell anyone about this visit.
 
And you are most welcome.”
 
She paused.
 
“What are you thanking me about?”

The Chief stared at the white-skinned woman.
 
“You saved the Captain’s life, ma’am.
 
I owe you for that.
 
We all do.”

“No,” said the Palani.
 
“You do not need to thank me for that.
 
No one thanks you for steering the ship or supervising the crew.
 
No one thanks a bird for flying.
 
We each do what we are meant to do.”

The human woman shook her head.
 
“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t agree.
 
You saved a life, and that’s a big deal.”

“I saved one out of the two that needed saving.
 
It is not an enviable record.”

“Ma’am,” said the Chief with a smirk, “You’re a bit stubborn, you know that?
 
You saved Dillon’s life, and I’m going to be thankful whether you like it or not.”

“Ah.
 
I consider myself chastised.
 
And I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Yes.
 
Thank you, ma’am.”

The Tassali blinked slowly, her eyes studying the human woman’s face.
 
“So.
 
He is not just your Captain.”

The Chief’s eyes widened, and she sputtered.
 
“What?
 
No ma’am.
 
I mean, yes.
 
I mean... well… sort of.”
 
She sighed and shrugged.
 
“He’s a good friend.
 
We grew up on the same street in Sackville.
 
I was best friends with his oldest sister.
 
He joined the Navy after me.
 
Because of me, I think.”

“And yet he is an officer and you are not.”

“Yes ma’am.
 
He got the marks in school, I didn’t.
 
He was always a quiet kid.
 
Smart, though.
 
Brave, too:
 
took on bullies twice his size.
 
Looked out for the other kids.”

“What about his family?”

“His parents are both gone.
 
One sister's in the army somewhere, the other one married a Swedish guy and moved to New Stockholm a few years back.
 
I don't think he's heard from her since.
 
It’s just him.
 
Anyway, I’m just saying, ma’am, he’s good people.”

“As, I suspect, are you.
 
I understand, Chief Black.”
 
She thought for a moment, her blue eyes studying the Chief’s face.
 
“Tell me, Chief Black, do you trust him?”

The Chief didn’t hesitate.
 
“Absolutely, ma’am.
 
With my life.”

The Tassali relaxed at that.
 
“Thank you, Chief Black, for telling me this.”

Black looked at the Tassali, a look of concern on her face.
 
“Ma’am, healing the Captain like that… it took a lot out of you, didn’t it?”

The Palani nodded, saying nothing but not looking away.

Black hesitated, then forged ahead.
 
“Ma’am, may I ask something?
 
People like yourself, with the Tassali genetics… do they get to choose… to do this?
 
Their life?”

The white-skinned woman shook her head.
 
“They do not.”

“Would you have chosen—”

The Tassali interrupted, looking down at her hands.
 
“How could I not?
 
Imagine being born with the ability to save lives.
 
How selfish would a person have to be to never use it?
 
Regardless of what life they might have chosen for themselves.”

“Still,” said the human, struggling for words, “it seems unfair.”

Blue eyes met green.
 
“Fairness was never discussed, Chief Black.”
 

The Chief suddenly blushed, bringing her hands up in front of her.
 
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I just realised I’m being incredibly rude.
 
I should—”

“My people believe we are better than animals because we know compassion.
 
To know compassion without using it?
 
We would still be animals.”

Black’s blush faded, her head slightly cocked.
 
“So where do humans fit in, ma’am?
 
Animals, or better than that?”

The Tassali looked away.
 
“A millennium ago, the Pentarch decided that humans are among the animals.”

“But what about you, ma’am?
 
What do you think?”

She sat quietly, looking back at the Chief.
 
“I am thinking that a millennium is a very long time.”
 

“You don’t agree?”

The voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
 
“That would be… as you said… ‘against regs’.”

Chief Black was still for a moment, watching the Tassali.
 
She blinked, looked down, and began to rise unsteadily from her seat.
 
“I’m sorry ma’am, you’re exhausted.
 
I should let you rest.”

The Palani nodded.
 
“As are you, Chief Black.
 
You are nearly as pale as I.
 
Will you please come speak to me again, when it is not so late?
 
I wish to know more about you.”

The human woman stopped in mid-step, looking at the white-skinned alien.
 
“Me, ma’am?
 
Thank you, yes… I’d like that.”

Tassali Yenaara gave a tired nod.
 
“Good night to you, Chief Black.”

Saparun smiled at the galley mate, happily showing his rows of fine teeth.
 
With barely-controlled desire in his eyes, he reached down to the counter and gently picked up the mug with his two red hands.
 
He held it close to his chest, capturing the aroma-filled steam that came off it, and walked carefully from the wardroom.
 
Checking to make sure the passageway was clear, he walked the short distance to the bridge hatch.
 
One foot at a time, he kept his eyes focused on the mug he clutched.
 
He stepped through the hatch and onto the bridge, proudly approaching the Captain’s chair.
 
With a beaming, serrated grin, he held out the mug.
 
“Captain.
 
You are back where you belong.
 
I bring a gift.”

Dillon, bundled up in a heavy sweater, looked up from his datapad.
 
His skin was pale, his eyes were dark.
 
He smiled and reached out to accept the mug.
 
“Thank you, Sap,” he said quietly.
 
“You’re very kind.”
 

The Mechanic nodded approvingly as the Captain smelled the coffee and sipped at it.
 
“You are welcome, Captain.
 
May I make a brief report?”

“Of course you may, Sap,” said the Captain, sighing as the coffee began to warm him up.
 
“You don’t need to ask.”

“Thank you, Captain.
 
I feel compelled to report that what we’re doing violates numerous Dosh safety, quality and procedural standards.
 
A hundred violations at least.
 
So far.”

Dillon raised an eyebrow.
 
“That sounds serious.”

Saparun’s smile faded.
 
“I confess I am conflicted, Captain.
 
I am showing the apprentices how to repair the most complicated technology in the galaxy, using replicated and repurposed parts of unknown quality.
 
It is wildly ill-advised.”

“Your bad influence on the crew is noted.”

“Captain, what we are doing is an affront to everything the Guild of Mechanics stands for.
 
I should be ejected from the Guild and forced into exile.
 
We take our craft very seriously.”

“I know you do, Sap.
 
I signed your orders for this.
 
I want your bosses to know this is my idea.
 
I’m responsible.”

“Yes, Captain.
 
Still, I am uneasy.
 
Terrified.”
 
A grin crept onto the red-and-yellow face.
 
“And completely exhilarated.
 
It is liberating.”

Dillon shifted in his chair, wincing as he moved.
 
“Glad to help.”

A voice came from behind the communications console.
 
“Captain!
 
Comm request from Commodore Sinclair.”

The Captain began to push himself upright with one hand, his mug of coffee shaking in the other.
 
Saparun took the drink from him and helped him to his feet.
 
“Comms,” gasped Dillon, steadying himself on the chair, “I’ll take it in my cabin.
 
In a few minutes, at this speed.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Dillon managed a grin as the Dosh helped him walk off the bridge.
 
“The boss is calling,” he said to himself.
 
“Everyone look busy.”

-----

The door closed as Saparun left the cabin, leaving the Captain alone.
 
Dillon breathed deeply and deliberately, waiting out the throbbing pain as it slowly eased.
 
When he was at last able to sit comfortably, he tapped the projector terminal.

An angry-looking warning popped up, advising him of the unsecure channel being used.
 
Tapping the terminal again cleared the warning, and the emitter started its high-pitched whine.
 
The image of the Commodore quivered into view.

“Lieutenant-Commander Dillon to Commodore Sinclair.
 
Are you receiving, sir?”

The image of the Commodore nodded, concern on her face.
 
“I am, Commander.
 
The last I heard from the
Borealis
was a quick report from Lieutenant Atwell, then I got a long note from two fleet surgeons.
 
You’ve had a busy few days.
 
How are you, Dillon?”

“A bit rough, sir, but I’m here.
 
At some point I’d like to discuss Master Seaman Singh’s next performance review.”

The senior officer smiled.
 
“Good.
 
I imagine you would.
 
Apparently she impressed the fleet surgeons who were working with her.
 
And she had an assistant, I hear?”

“Yes, sir.
 
The Tassali kept me from leaking too much.
 
A neat trick.”

“Indeed.
 
I won’t belabour the fact that the Tassali choosing to help you is a very big deal.”

“Yes, sir.
 
I’d also mention that she’s a decent shot, and knows her way around scummy backwater planets near the Burnt Worlds. “

The Commodore raised an eyebrow.
 
“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.
 
I can’t say the rest on an unsecure channel, but there’s a lot more to her than just being the chaplain on a diplomatic ship.
 
There’s a reason that her people are so interested in getting her back.”

“Well, Commander, I’m curious. No offence to our Dosh friends listening in, but put the details in an encrypted file and send it to me.
 
I’ll take a look and get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Yes, sir.
 
I’ll send it shortly.”

“In the meantime, Commander, use your own judgement.
 
Whatever happens, go ahead and deal with it.
 
I’ll back you up.”

“Yes, sir.
 
Thank you, sir.”

“Anyway, glad you’re on the mend.
 
Atwell’s good, but having cruisers run by lieutenants is frowned upon.
 
Complicates the payroll.”