“Captain,” Dukvita said. “I think you’ve come to a wise decision.” Jackson didn’t answer right away. As they walked down the corridor to the airlock Jackson tangibly shook with ire. “I think--”
“I really don’t give a passionate damn fuck what you think, Dukvita. I only want you and your flying pharmacy the hell away from Cinco. You’re officially out of business in the Eta Cassiopeia system.”
“What makes you think you have any jurisdiction here, or even over me? You are still arrogant as the first day we met.”
“And you’re still as devious,” Jackson retorted.
“You’ve seriously slowed me down, Jackson. You blew up my shuttle, you’ve damaged my engines.”
“You’ve endangered my mission, kidnapped me and my crew, killed one of my officers, and disabled my ship.”
The party of five stopped in front of the airlock. Jackson pushed several icons on the control panel and the door slid aside.
“I expect you and every one of your thugs to be out of this system in two hours.”
“What makes you think you are in charge of the galaxy? You humans barely got your feet in the space but you think you are the center of everything. My mother is older than your space history.”
“Get off my ship.” The big green brutes ambled into the airlock and Jackson fittingly shut the hatch. He glanced at both security officers and dismissed them with a nod.
Jackson dragged himself to the bridge and found Quixote, May, Watson, and Rougeau on duty.
“Captain on the bridge,” Watson said respectfully, standing, as did Rougeau and May. Quixote was standing before Jackson stepped out of the elevator. “Thank you, gentlemen. I’d have someone relive you but there is no one at the moment. Watson, I’d like you to start training Zoe Stone to be your relief and cross train with Rougeau, Chen Lee should be ready for duty in a couple of days. In the meantime, I think Kym Byrd can handle the helm part time if we’re not doing anything tricky. I’ll work on the duty roster later.”
“Sir, if you don’t mind my saying, you look as if you ought to get some rest. I’m fine here if you would like to go off duty,” Quixote told him. Captain Jackson took a hard look at the reptile’s eyes, like brilliantly cut orange gemstones with round, black pupils. They’d known each other nearly twenty years.
“Thank you. I will do just that.” He put his hand on a scaled fore limb briefly before he turned to leave.
“Sir, Tom,” xe whispered. “You did the best you could.”
“I orphaned a child.” Quixote put his heavy scaled arm over Tom’s shoulders and led him away from the bow and operations to the privacy of the situation room.
“I can see things you cannot, old friend, and you are suffering. You made a command decision and saved a life at the risk of your own. She was killed in the line of duty.” Tom didn’t want to relive the scene.
“Take Maria Mitchell back to Cinco, assume orbit, and contact New Hope. Find out if their election is over and when we can come back and start over again.”
“Aye, sir. Good resting.”
Tom went to his quarters without stopping along the way at the mess, sick bay, or the gym. He’d have to be the one to tell Honey that her mother was dead, that she’d been killed doing her job, in space. It was a better truth than the factual reality. And what was to become of her? He’d brought York along because all other things being equal, she could bring a friend for his daughter.
In his quarters for the first time in days, he drowned his thoughts with a steaming shower then covered them up with clean civilian clothes. He rifled through the kitchenette cabinets and found a box of crackers, which would hold him until breakfast. He munched them down, had double shot of scotch, a large glass of water, then took himself to bed.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d slept, but he awoke in the dark, disoriented. The chrono showed 02:34.
“Lights half.” He blinked and saw a small mound in the center of the bed, its chestnut hair tousled on a pillow. “Lights off.” He collected the warm bundle and held it close to his chest.
“Papa?”
“Hi, Pet. Why aren’t you in bed?”
“'Cause you feel sick, but I can’t find the hurt,” she told him and yawned.
“I’m not sick, just tired.”
“I feel you hurts.” Her empathy had grown stronger as she aged; apparently now perceiving emotional pain was another of her gifts. Tom kissed her head.
“I’m okay. Don’t you worry about me. Come on, back to bed.” He picked her up and carried her into her own room. “You go to sleep now.” She rustled about half a minute then she handed her lavender shoal wool blanket to him. He covered her with it but she took it off and handed it to him again.
“You keep my squeezie tonight. You need it more, Papa. It make you sleep gooder.” He brushed some hair out of her face and put her blanket over his shoulders.
He hadn’t slept more than an hour before guilt woke him, hovering in the room. He knew it was part of the risk, part of the job, part of the tragedy that goes with the glory. Knowing didn’t make it any easier to accept. He slammed the pillow a few times and forced himself to get another hour of sleep.
“I want to see Mama and Honey today,” Zalara said. Sitting at the table, Tom looked up from his data pad and sighed.
“We will.”
Jackson had never broken such news to a child before. To adults about their children, yes, to crew about another crew mate, to a spouse about an officer, yes, but to a child about their parent, never. Both his parents were alive, so he didn’t even have a personal experience to draw upon. He’d have to ask Adams about the best approach. As captain it fell to him, and as the last one to see her, the one he didn’t choose to rescue, no other person on board should bear the burden. He looked at Zalara.
“Something terrible happened yesterday. Something no one should ever have to deal with.”
“You still hurts.”
“You’re right.” He reached out and took Zalara’s free hand and made gentle contact with her eyes. “Honey’s mama was hurt yesterday when the shuttle came back from the planet.”
“Is she in sick bay with Mama?”
“No, Pet. She was hurt too badly. Doctor Adams couldn't fix her.” Tom hesitated. “She died.” Zalara seemed to be absorbing the information in her silence.
“She can’t come back? Can I fix her?”
“No,” he said softly. “She’s dead.” The crisp emerald green of her eyes dulled and her face wrinkled.
“I need to help Honey. She will be more sadder than you. I’ll give her my squeezie.”
“That would be very thoughtful, Pet. But first let me tell her. She doesn’t know yet.”
“Who’s going to be her mama now?”
“I’m not sure, Pet.”
“She must hurt a lot. I hurt a lot when mama was sick.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. She’ll need you to be a good friend even more now.”
“I liked Honey’s mama. She was nice.”
“Me too.”
“My stomach hurts. I don’t want any more breakfast. Can we go see Mama now?” Tom’s stomach also hurt. He nodded and helped her change from nightclothes into a soft blue dress then brushed her thick hair. He dressed for duty and they walked to sick bay together.
Rianya was standing up when they arrived in sick bay. Zalara ran to her; Tom was right behind. The thin woman was gaunt but she was also tenacious. She put her arms around Tom’s neck and laid her head against his chest. The three of them stood in silence in the sick bay, alone. When they separated Rianya wore tears on her cheeks, smudged by Tom’s lapels.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” she choked out. Tom usually had the right words for every occasion, but not at this moment. He barely had strength to get through it himself. He simply touched her cheek and walked away to find Dr. Adams. In the lab, concentrating on some tests, he didn’t look up when Tom came in.
“I’m sorry, Captain. She was a delightful woman.” Pushing aside some small samples he looked up and removed his magnifying lenses, dropping them on the counter top.
“Damn good crewman.” They met each other’s eyes. “I need your help.” Adams raised his brows. “I’ve never had to tell a child.”
“Ah. Yes, I can see how that might be…difficult.” The men stood side by side without any of the usual banter between them. “Just be straightforward, sympathetic, and gentle. There’s no good way to tell anyone a loved one is dead.”
“Maybe I could have saved her,” Tom uttered.
“Don’t go there, Jack. It’s a dark, immortal rabbit hole.”
“I’m not,” he said hoping to convince himself by saying it aloud. “It’s still raw. Where’d she stay last night?”
Same place she always has when York was on night shift: The Campbell’s quarters. Henderson, Wallace, and Harchett are down in the rec room with her. You want me to call her up here?”
“No, I’ll go down there. Rianya?”
“She’s run down, maybe she should stay here, but take her home tonight. Have her check in with me each morning.”
“Isn’t she here every morning anyway?”
“I have a feeling the schedules might be in need of revisions.”
A gloom of fog hung in the corridors and common rooms of Maria Mitchell. Tom and Zalara walked in silence from the to the gym.
“Papa, why do you have to tell her?”
“Why? Or why me?” Tom hesitated but only for a moment. “I’m the captain. It’s my job.”
“I thought you fly the ship.”
“Only part of the time,” he said with a wink. At that moment he didn't see anything but her face. He could have been dropped into space and still all he would see was her innocent eyes looking for confirmation in his own. She carried her purple blanket with her.
Honey bounced up to Zalara when they came in the room. The knot of three adults at the far end of the gym and nodded at Jackson.
“Honey, come and sit down over here with us,” Tom said, ushering the two young girls toward a table printed with a chessboard on top in black and white. The captain pressed an icon on the table and watched the white squares turn red for checkers.
“Is my mom back from the planet?” the blonde girl asked, looking from Jackson to Zalara and back to Jackson.
“Honey,” Jackson began. He touched her hand to focus her attention. “There was an accident with the shuttle when your mother was on her way back to you. She’d accomplished her mission, they were coming back, but the ship was damaged. She was injured badly, and--” no, more details would be a bad thing. “The doctors couldn’t help her. She died.”
Honey’s eyes welled as she shook her head. Zalara quickly pushed her lavender blanket across the table at her friend. The girl didn’t seem to want to comprehend what she’d just been told. Zalara ran around the table and hugged her.
“She’s not coming back?” Jackson shook his head slowly and swallowed hard.
“Honey, you’re safe here with us on Maria Mitchell. You may not feel very much now, or you might want to cry, and it’s okay. We’re all very sad right now, but you can talk to us anytime, anytime you want. Zalara, or Rianya, or me, or anyone on the ship,” Jackson assured her. “Do you want to stay at Bailey and Keith’s again?”
“I don’t know. Can I go?” Tom blinked a couple of times, puzzled by her lack of hysteria. He nodded and she scattered away, taking Zalara, and the blanket, with her.
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