Okay, here's the second part, written just after I posted the first and before getting all these awesome comments. Lemmie know what you think. I'll start writing part three maybe tomorrow night.
Chapter Two
What was obviously a hastily gathered honour party greeted Hdeian as he embarked. His glacial gaze swept the assembled officers as he stalked up to them. He had familiarised himself with the dossiers of the crew assigned to him—as so junior a commander and only recently in favour anyway, he was not allowed to appoint his own choices for key positions—and he found his fury climbing higher as none of the officers assigned to the bridge communications station were present. Still, formalities had to be maintained, and he restrained his anger as the woman he recognised as his new exec greeted him.
“SubCommander tr’Tyrava, I am Senior Centurion t’Kaldaiith, your Executive Officer. On behalf of the senior staff, I welcome you aboard. If I may present your officers…?”
Giving her a curt nod but nothing else, Hdeian followed her down the line of officers. They were, like himself, mostly Debrune Rihannsu – as indeed was most of the Empire now after a millennium and a half of interbreeding. T’Kaldaiith herself seemed to be a Pureblood, as she had no sign of the heavy brow ridges common to the other officers.
As they walked down the line of officers, each thumped their fist to their breastbone in the traditional salute of allegiance. Normally, he would have taken the time to speak a few words to each officer to get a feel for their personalities and begin building a rapport with them. Right now, however, he was coldly furious and only interested in finding that mannerless cur and physically kicking him off his ship – all the way from the bridge to the shuttle bay, if necessary. The thought of actually doing so gave him a savage pleasure.
In the back of his mind, he knew that his own reaction was all out of proportion to the offence, but this incident had spoiled his own enjoyment of coming aboard his first command.
And whoever had committed this heinous crime, he thought in all seriousness,
is going to pay! He barely heard their names but managed to be pleased that the names he had attached to these faces matched up to who his XO introduced them as.
“Senior Centurion Alma tr’Nai, Master Engineer. Senior Centurion Gwuii t’Henaraii, Weapons Master. Centurion Dheim tr’Naithor, Enforcement Master. Centurion Liriana t’Orek, Master Surgeon. Centurion Neeru tr’Foren, Master Helm. Centurion Courig tr’Arai, Sciences Master.”
At the end of the line, the position of Communications Master was conspicuously absent. Not only that, no junior member of that department was present in the Master’s stead either. It was a serious breach of protocol.
At this, Hdeian whirled upon his XO. Even in his anger, his own innate courtesy forced out an acknowledgement for his XO’s efforts. “My thanks, Centurion. Where is the representative from Communications?”
T’Kaldaiith’s pale complexion became slightly green-tinged as she blushed. “My sincere apologies, subCommander,” she began, her voice under complete control even if her blood wasn’t. “The –”
Her next words remained unspoken as a junior officer rushed onto the shuttle bay deck. A quick glance was all it took to determine he was not one he was familiar with, which meant he was not the Department Head. The youth stumbled into the lineup and grew green with either embarrassment and/or rage at being shown up in front of the senior staff and his new commander.
“Ah, here he is now,” t’Kaldaiith recovered smoothly. “AnteCenturion Jaran tr’Naekarin, Cryptography Officer.” Addressing the boy, she demanded, “Explain your lateness, AnteCenturion!”
“Madam, I beg forgiveness. I was roused from sleep after a long previous shift, not five minutes ago!” The boy obviously wanted to say more, but the others were studiously ignoring him, and making it clear in their silence that they found it an affront to have their timeliness be brought down by his tardiness. Any further desire for verbal explanation withered under this avalanche of disapproval.
Hdeian shared the emotion, if not for the same target. Once again focusing on his XO, he demanded of her, “Why was he roused for my greeting party when I distinctly heard someone operating the communications station some
seven minutes ago? If that person was not qualified, why then rouse this boy and not the Communications Master himself?”
The uncomfortable silence of the ‘honour guard’ and t’Kaldaiith’s loss for words that immediately followed his questions indicated a massive problem already on his ship, and he hadn’t even been aboard her for as long as that dupe of a boy has been awake!
“Centurion, I asked you a question!” Hdeian ground out, Fire in his eyes and murder on his mind. “Where is subCenturion tr’Raeteol, the Communications Master?”
T’Kaldaiith’s shoulders slumped and she seemed to deflate at the utterance of that name. “He will most likely be in his quarters, Sir,” she told him dejectedly.
“WHAT!?!” he roared, making them all flinch but surprising none of them. Hdeian could not believe his ears. He knew that tr’Raeteol’s father was an influential figure in Homeworld politics, but he was the most junior of the command staff. Yet here was his XO, slitting her own throat in front of her CO rather than have him dragged down here. The cur was obviously trying to wriggle out of is blunder, but any CO worth their command would have demanded an explanation instead of glossing over the non-appearance of a minor officer, but it was possible that young tr’Naekarin was supposed to have taken the blame for the incident over the com, and just hadn’t had the time to have been briefed. The XO couldn’t have failed to ask why he was late, and if she had, Hdeian would certainly have done it for her.
His voice now totally devoid of emotion, brooking no disobedience or evasion, he asked her one last question. “Who talked to my pilot as she requested landing clearance?”
“It was subCenturion tr’Raeteol, Sir,” she managed to say.
“All of you,
wait here,” he growled and stalked towards the shuttle bay turbolift, leaving his command crew standing at attention.
****
Minutes later he stood before the quarters of subCenturion Kai tr’Raeteol, Master Communications Officer of the
White Star, and third son of one of the most powerful industrialists in the Empire, being counted among such Noble Houses as Radaik and Rial.
Hdeian used his commander’s clearance codes to override the cabin’s privacy lock and strode right in. The man occupying the room held a private comm. screen which he immediately darkened as he looked up guiltily. The guilt was mingled with anger, as it always was in such people. Hdeian took the time to match this person’s face with the one he’d memorised from their service record, and without stopping to even listen to any protestations, hauled the cur from behind his desk.
The two men were of a size; thin, wiry, with the sinuous strength of a marathon runner than the bulging muscles of a weight lifter. However, tr’Raeteol was twenty years younger – which meant nothing to a 50 standard-year-old Rihannsu – and took less care with his fitness regime than did Hdeian. The commander also had the advantage of superior rank, and surprise. The whelp came easily.
“What’re – you –
doing!” the boy demanded in outrage as he was propelled from his room and pushed through the corridors of the ship. Hdeian decided at the last minute to parade this
thing down the open sections of the ship rather than take the quicker turbolift, the better that anyone who saw would know that parental status meant nothing to any true Fleet Officer. An object lesson in the chain of command was apparently sorely needed aboard this vessel.
“Let go of me!” the youth demanded, squirming in Hdeian’s grip.
Such disgusting behaviour! he noted acidly.
You’d think he was just out of Secondary School instead of being a graduate of the Naval Academy and a Fleet Officer of eight years’ service! It’s apparent to me his commission was bought by his father… “I
demand you let go of me! Do you know who I am?” the “officer” shouted loudly, trying to intimidate his superior officer into bending to his will.
Hdeian cuffed him on the back of the head as he would a disobedient child.
“How dare you! You’ll pay for that!” the boy screeched.
“If you’re not going to act like an officer, I need not treat you like one,” Hdeian spoke his first words to him.
“My father –” Kai started
“– is
irrelevant,” Hdeian finished for him.
“You can’t treat me like this! Even… even Fleet regulations do not allow –”
“A cur like you has no idea what Fleet Regulations state. Now shut up or I will stun you and drag your unconscious carcass through the corridors of this ship.”
The very evenness and controlled tone of tr’Tyrava’s voice just increased the certainly of him carrying out his threat, but this son of privilege could not let it go.
“Where are you taking me?” he demanded next.
“You’ll see,” was the short reply, after which the subCommander wasted no more speech on his charge.
****
“What do you think he’s doing?” Gwuii t’Henaraii asked the group at large.
“Which one?” Master Engineer tr’Nai asked back.
N’alae T’Kaldaiith glared at both of them. “Silence!” she ordered wrathfully.
Gwuii snorted. “Yeah, right. Who’s gonna tell him we’re discussing it,
Senior Centurion?”
“I gave you an order! Now shut your mouth, you base-born bitch!”
“Ahhh, it all comes out now,” Gwuii nodded knowingly, deflecting the insult by refusing to be insulted by it. She was not ashamed of her commoner upbringing, and was in fact very proud of rising so high in the Fleet despite it. Using it to her advantage, she twisted the attack back upon her attacker. “Don’t you worry, Executive Officer. It’s unlikely that any of us will need to tell our Fiery new commander that you cannot command your way out of wet paper bag and that none of us care what you think or do. I’m sure he’ll find that out really quickly all on his own – if he doesn’t believe it already.” Another thought occurred to her and she sank the blade in even deeper. Affecting a surprised look, she added, “Oh, maybe whatever he’s doing to that arrogant young bastard he’ll do to you too, and I’ll get promoted to Executive Officer myself!”
Tr’Nai grinned and the others looked away, suppressing smirks of their own.
T’Kaldaiith went bottle green and screamed. “You WILL respect my authority on this ship!”
“Smart woman,” Gwuii noted, as if in an aside to her conspirator. “She’s not demanding we respect
her, only her position.” Addressing her directly, the weapons master continued, “Yes, Executive Officer. What would you have us do?”
“Just keep silent until he returns,” N’alae ordered tightly, her voice betraying tremors.
“Yes Madam Executive Officer,
Sir! We shall be as silent as a freshly-dug grave. No sound will escape our lips. Not one utterance will be… well, uttered. You will think this room was full of corpses, or mutes. Yes indeed, we shall be as silent –”
“
SHUT UP!!! ”
****
It had been a long walk, but Hdeian finally reached the shuttle bay again. The swish of the doors opening in front of him was a pleasure all its own, as by now the constant stream of complaints, demands, threats, and pleading had convinced him of nothing else but the necessity of getting this thing off his ship, and if possible, out of the Fleet uniform.
Looking across the deck, his command staff were exactly where he left them, though it looked like his Exec was going to have a stroke. In the other direction, the t’Auel’s travel pod waited still. He angled towards it.
“Centurion tr’Naithor, kindly escort our former Communications Master back to the starbase and ensure he does nothing… rash. Also ensure that his manners are correct in dealing with the pilot. Once he has been physically transferred to the starbase, return by transporter. I will query her after your return to ensure there was no… unpleasantness. Acknowledge and comply.”
Tr’Naithor started at the use of Klingon-style orders, but wisely subsided and merely responded in the proper Rihannsu fashion. Thumping his fist to his breastbone, he bowed at the neck and stated, “I hear and obey.”
They both boarded the small shuttle. “Secure him,” he ordered his security chief, then entered the cockpit.
“T’Auel, my thanks for waiting. I am sending my Enforcement Master along with you to ensure this person causes you no trouble. He will beam back. I will send a report to your supervisor detailing these events. On the off chance they wish to cause trouble and I am off on my mission, refer them to my Clan. They will take care of you.”
Jaina looked at him oddly. “If I may, Sir, you are a most unusual man. Lowly shuttle pilots are not offered the protection of such powerful benefactors.”
Hdeian smiled, though somewhat sadly. “This is so, but it is unfortunate that this is so. I hope to change that.”
“You honour me beyond reason,” she responded quietly, and offered him a bow so sincere and lengthy he had to push her upright himself.
“Everyone is worthy of courtesy and respect until they prove otherwise by their actions or words. You are a more honourable and worthy person than the useless carcass you now drag back to the base, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. Now go, and contact me after my centurion returns.”
“It shall be done.”
“Very good. Fair flying, t’Auel,” he bade her farewell, and turned to go.
“You may call me Jaina,” she offered.
He halted and faced her again, startled but pleased at her gift, and smiled. “Thank you, Jaina,” he told her warmly, gripping her arm. “Maybe when next we meet you will impress me enough that I will give you mine.”
“’Til next we meet, subCommander,” she replied. He could tell she was a bit disappointed he hadn’t responded in kind, but rewards had to be earned or they held no value.
He exited the shuttle and watched it leave the ship, passing through the atmospheric forcefield. The pleasure and satisfaction he felt at the completion of this task and at the demands of honour being met began to ebb, and disappeared into the background as he faced his recalcitrant crew.
“Any questions?” he demanded.
They all responded in the negative.
“Good. Have my belongings beamed over from the station and brought to my quarters. Staff briefing at 0600 tomorrow. Dismissed!”
He stood there with his fists on his hips, proud and defiant on the deck of his ship, and watched them go.
This ridiculous mess is going to get cleared up right damn quick, or there’ll be more sudden exits like tr’Raeteol’s. But for the rest of today, I want to explore my new domain. He set off from the shuttle bay, intent on giving himself a Commander’s Tour of the ship that was now his.
Topic: White Star: Episode One - Brave New World (Read 25946 times)