Defiant Page 3

  Soon enough we both fell into a peaceful slumber, but mine didn’t last, not like I wanted.

  I woke up some time later with a start, my heart pounding, my breath shallow and jagged, my side of the bed covered in sweat. I’d had the dream again.

  The warped ships. The warped bodies. Young men and women I’d never met, their lives crushed out of them like the yolk from a raw egg. They said you never completely got rid of guilt, and I believed them now. Thousands had died on the Imperial dreadnoughts at Pendax and Carinthia, all of them at my command. Hell, at my hand. Their souls haunted me in my dreams. Not every night, but enough that it disturbed me, distracted me, took me off my game. And I couldn’t afford that kind of distraction. Not now.

  I rolled off the bed in the dark, trying not to disturb Karina. I settled onto my exercise mat on the floor and started the deep breathing exercises the doctors had told me to use in order to clear my mind. They worked—most of the time. I did this six times through as instructed, breathing in deeply, holding it for a count of four, then exhaling. I hoped I could get through them without waking Karina. When I was done I went back to the bed, then felt her soft touch on my neck and shoulders, gently rubbing me. She pulled the bed sheets around me, wiping the sheen of sweat off my back, then slid across the bed and pressed herself against me from behind. It was comforting.

  “You had the dream again, didn’t you?” she asked. I nodded.

  “I hoped I wouldn’t wake you.”

  “Not much chance of that, Captain. It’s almost like I can feel it when you’re dreaming, the way you struggle. Even when I’m sleeping, I’m constantly aware of you,” she said. I put my hand over hers.

  “I appreciate it. More than you know,” I replied. It was true. We all needed someone to watch our backs, and Karina had mine, always.

  “Have you given any more thought to what the doctors recommended?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not really,” I admitted.

  “It’s not a sign of weakness to ask for help.”

  “I know. I just want . . . I want to resolve things myself,” I said. She kissed my neck.

  “Sometimes that’s not possible. Guilt and post-traumatic stress are not easily resolvable. Our minds are . . . complicated things.”

  I sighed. “Like I said, I want to work it out myself. As long as it doesn’t interfere with doing my job—”

  “It already has, Peter. At best you sleep five or six hours a night. You’re not as sharp as you were before. Sometimes you miss things, both on the bridge and with me,” she said. I knew she was right. She almost always was. I had a mind to have her checked out on the intuition scale. I turned back to her, and she put her arms around my neck again, first rubbing my temples and then clasping her hands together behind my head and pulling me in to kiss her. She was demanding in this way, in the showing of affection. It was something she insisted on, and I had to admit she was right about it. It did make our relationship stronger.

  “So, what happened at your meeting with Maclintock?” she asked.

  “We got our orders,” I said flatly. Her lips curled into a mock sneer.

  “I know that. I want to know what they are,” she said, insistent. I sighed.

  “We’re going out to Sandosa, First Contact mission via Carinthia, or at least High Station 3, anyway. Plus a stop at Pendax to pick up Admar Harrington and a diplomatic team,” I said. The fastest way to Pendax was to make the instantaneous jump to Carinthia first, make our way through normal space to Carinthia’s egress jump point, and from there make another jump to Pendax, which was thirty-two light-years distant and well inside our Hoagland’s instant jump range. That way we avoided traverse space and the unnecessary (and seemingly random) thirty-four-hour journey through an unknown dimension. The stop at High Station 3 was a bit out of the way, but I found as a captain that courtesy calls were sometimes necessary.

  Karina’s voice brought me back to reality. “That sounds exciting,” she said, without any real enthusiasm in her voice. She knew full well whose Lightship was stationed at High Station 3.

  “It is,” I said. The next thing was more delicate. “I was hoping we could have dinner with Dobrina Kierkopf aboard Impulse II. She’s docked at the station for now, and, well, I haven’t seen her or her ship since we left Carinthia. And I’m negotiating with her over a placement.”

  “I thought our crew manifest was full-up?” she said.

  “It is,” I admitted, “but she has a very talented astrogator who’s stuck behind several senior officers.” She sat up at this.

  “But I’m your astrogator,” she said rather forcefully.

  I sighed.

  “I’ve been thinking, and I think I want you at the longscope. Right now it’s just Ensign Lynne Layton, George’s sister, and she’s not nearly as experienced as you are.”

  Karina let out a displeased sound and rolled away from me on the bed, lying on her back to stare at the ceiling. “Do you not trust me?” she asked.

  “I trust your skills implicitly. That’s why I want you in the best position for the ship and for me,” I said honestly. She looked back over her shoulder at me briefly.

  “I’m supposed to coordinate our social schedule, you know,” she said, apparently conceding the position change. “I know who Dobrina Kierkopf is and what she represented in your life. Probably more than you realize.” I leaned over her and kissed her forehead.

  “That’s why I asked about it first,” I replied.

  “If I’d known you’d taken over all of my social duties, I wouldn’t have been so kind just now,” she said in mock protest.

  “Oh yes you would have,” I retorted. She smacked me hard on the shoulder.

  “Men!” Then she was up to dress for the day, and I joined her. It was these small moments as much as the sex that made our life together such a pleasure for me. I found her fascinating in every way, and I loved just being with her. Had I not chosen the life of a Lightship captain, I could easily see myself spending my days with her at court as prince and princess with nothing but idle time on our hands, raising a family together.

  As she put on her makeup, using her vanity mirror for guidance, she caught me by surprise again. “Have you given any more thought to my proposal?”

  “Proposal? I thought it was just an idea. Now it’s a formal proposal?” I asked, trying to rebutton my shirt collar.

  “I believe anything exchanged between a princess of Carinthia and a duke of Quantar rises to the level of a formal proposal,” she said, then turned from her vanity toward me. I had to smile at that. The truth was, though, that I hadn’t thought about it.

  “No,” I said, as I finally finished buttoning my uniform shirt.

  “Both our families will need an heir eventually, and I know the news would do Carinthia a world of good,” she said, seemingly innocent of the pun she had just made.

  I couldn’t disagree with her. Carinthia had been brutalized by Arin, and good news was in short supply there these days since the grand duke’s passing. It was just that I saw no practical time to have a child while we were both serving in the Union Navy. I took her by the hand and sat down with her on the edge of the bed.

  “Karina, you know I want this as much as you do. But we’ve been married less than a year, and there’s so much uncertainty out there—”

  “There will always be uncertainty, Peter. The only certainty we’re guaranteed is what we make ourselves. You should know that.”

  She was right on that point. If the last two years had taught me anything, it was that you couldn’t rely on things working out as you’d planned in any way.

  “You’d have to leave the service,” I said.

  “I know that,” she replied. “But perhaps you should consider that our greatest value to both of our worlds is to serve, united, as an inspiration to the future we all hope to make with the Union.” I thou
ght about that.

  “Or perhaps our greatest value to the Union is to be seen defending her together, fighting for what we believe is right,” I said.

  “Perhaps,” she said, hesitating. We sat there for a moment in silence, a princess and a duke of the realm, trying to decide our fate together.

  “I still have unfinished business out here. Arin—”

  “Arin is a ghost hanging over us all, Peter. We can’t let him determine our actions or what’s best for us—or for that matter, for our people. Both our worlds need this. But you won’t give up your quest for the great white shark,” she said. I smiled at her.

  “I think you mean the great white whale,” I said, remembering my Moby-Dick. She pulled her hand back.

  “Shark, whale, whatever. The point is that we both have a higher calling, a higher duty, than the Union Navy. It’s going to come soon enough, so why not now?”

  I looked at her, the determination in her. I wondered if it was a trait common in all Carinthian women. I admired it, just as I had in Captain Dobrina Kierkopf. But I wasn’t ready to concede my navy career just yet.

  “I know that I want to stay in the navy, that that is where I’m best able to serve for the moment. The question you have to answer is where will you be serving the Union best: here at my side, fighting with me, or at home, raising our children?”

  “I think we both agree that having me on Carinthia raising our children while you’re in space is not a workable option,” she said.

  “On that we agree,” I said. She returned to her makeup mirror and resumed applying her makeup. “So then our only two choices are to stay on Quantar or Carinthia raising a family or stay in space together.”

  “Yes,” she said, applying a modest amount of eyeliner. Then she stopped and turned to me again, right hand at her hip. “You may have to accept the fact that your path changed when you married me. Both of our lives did. My father is gone, and yours won’t live forever, even if you don’t want to accept that. Life goes on with or without your participation, Peter. You have to decide what’s best for everyone now, not just for Captain Peter Cochrane of Defiant.”

  “I understand that,” I said, and I did. I always thought I would have a number of years yet to serve in space in the Union Navy before I was forced to take on the role of a prince. My decision to marry Karina in the midst of the Carinthian crisis had accelerated all of that exponentially, and now I was facing that accelerating agenda. But deep down I had to admit to myself that I didn’t want to give up my dreams of commanding a Lightship so soon.

  “I think we should talk about this again when we get back from Sandosa,” I said. She turned to me one last time, rose to come to me, and put her arms around me.

  “Carinthia and Quantar need us now, Peter,” she said.

  “They do need us, Karina. But right now they also need trained military commanders and experienced Lightship captains. Unfortunately, I’m one of a rare breed, a rare few, that can provide that,” I said. She shook her head.

  “I need an answer, Peter. And I want us to make it together,” she said, appealing to my love for her. I didn’t want us to be bickering about this for the whole length of our mission. I cared about her and respected her too much for that.

  “I have a proposal, then,” I said. “If we have another six months as quiet as the last six have been, I promise I will give retiring from the navy and starting a family the most serious consideration.”

  Her eyes flickered back and forth, like she was searching my eyes for the truth. “I’ll hold you to that, Peter, and pray that things stay quiet,” she said. Then she kissed me. “I love you, and I want us to be happy. As happy as we can be under these circumstances.”

  I kissed her in return and then made my way to my bridge, visions of imploding dreadnoughts still haunting my thoughts.

  Underway

  The journey Monday morning to Quantar’s egress jump point was a leisurely one, interrupted only by the sudden frenzy of the quarter-hour prep to spool up the Hoaglands and make the jump to Carinthia. We flashed into Carinthian space microseconds later—or microseconds earlier, as some scientists argued—at exactly 1015 hours ship time.

  We were docked at High Station 3 by noon. I gave my crew full liberty with only minimal staff required until 1000 hours the next morning. More than enough time to hit 3’s famous beer halls and still sleep off the hangover before we departed for Pendax.

  I noted that Impulse II was docked in one of the other six operational station ports, but I decided against going over to her right away and causing a ruckus. Dobrina had left Karina and me an invitation to dinner at 1800 by com message, and I decided it would be best to leave the good captain to the running of her ship without distractions for the day.

  The last two days had been a bit rough for Karina and me. She had made her feelings known, and I respected that, but I was still only twenty-five, and I wasn’t willing to give up on my navy career just yet. This had strained our conversations and personal time, and I for one wanted to be past it. I cared for her far too much to want to fight or have this upset in our lives. Coincidentally, she buzzed in to my bridge com a few minutes after we’d locked Defiant down for the day.

  “I’m going over to the station to shop for a bit,” she said.

  “Who with? I hope you’re not going to spend all of my bonus,” I replied. She laughed.

  “No. It’s lady things mostly and some local fare. Your Quantar food isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, unless you like beef, beef soup, and roast beef,” she said. I smiled.

  “You left out dried pork and beef jerky. All right, then. But please conduct your business without tromping on my world’s dignity,” I said. She laughed again. “And you never said who you were shopping with. I know ladies don’t like to do these outings alone.”

  “I didn’t say, did I? Anyway, it’s not the kind of thing that a man would enjoy, so you’ll just have to trust me on this,” she said. What could I say to that?

  “I understand. Have fun, but please avoid the tabloid press as much as possible,” I cautioned her.

  “Of course. I’ll see you back aboard in a few hours.”

  “That’s fine. Just leave time for dinner prep,” I said.

  “As you command, Captain,” she said. Now it was my turn to laugh. We said our goodbyes and then hung up. I felt like the conversation was more hopeful than those we’d had the last few days. Personally I hoped dinner would go a long way toward bringing us back to being of the same mind about things. We’d had precious few disagreements in our time as husband and wife, and I hoped to keep it that way.

  I stood and surveyed my bridge, looking for anything out of sorts that I could complain about. When I found nothing, I gave the con to a junior rating named Watson, much to his youthful delight, then headed for the lifter. Liberty on a foreign station wasn’t something a Lightship captain commonly took, and I found myself wistful for the days when I could semi-anonymously crawl around a High Station with Layton and Marker, drinking our way from pub to pub. Those days were gone, I decided, and many others like them would likely come to an end soon as well. I sighed as the lifter doors shut and pressed the button for the gym deck, hoping there might be someone there to give the captain a fair game of squash.

  There was, and I was soundly beaten by a Carinthian marine named Verhunce. She was a co-survivor of the battle at the Jenarus Founder station. She was tight and wiry and ultracompetitive, and she reminded me more than a bit of Dobrina Kierkopf, I decided. We didn’t talk about Jenarus at all, and I made a mental note to peruse Marker’s latest Fitness for Duty report on her, just in case. I knew full well about my own problems and wanted to make sure she wasn’t experiencing the same things. It was obvious she was tough as nails though, as she drove me around the squash court relentlessly, seemingly at her whim.

  After the drubbing I received, I licked my wounds
back in my stateroom and waited for my wayward wife to return from her shopping. She did, but in barely enough time to dress for dinner aboard Impulse.

  “So, how did it go?” I asked innocently enough as she freshened her makeup.

  “Oh, quite lovely. We raided the stores of all the local food I could find. Even had time for a quick pedicure. Dobrina knows her way around the station, and that saved a lot of time,” she said. I sat up at this.

  “Dobrina? As in Kierkopf?” Karina turned and gave me the impish smile.

  “What, I didn’t tell you? The good captain of Impulse and I have had a standing date for an outing for quite some time. She was very helpful in so many ways,” she said. The smile got more devious.

  I jumped to my feet and grabbed her from behind, and she let out a mock squeal. “And what did this help entail?” I asked, refusing to let her go back to her makeup preparations.

  “None of your business! Now let me go!” she demanded. I refused and held onto her.

  “I think I have a right to know,” I said.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said, then turned and kissed me quickly on the lips. “Girls have secrets.” I let her go then and sat back on the bed, astonished.

  “So you two have had this planned the whole time?” I asked. She turned back from the mirror again.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And what did you talk about?”

  “We’re going to be late if I don’t hurry, dear.”

  “We’re already late. What did you and Dobrina talk about?”

  She turned toward me one last time. “Things we have in common,” she said. She rushed through the rest of her preparations, making innocuous small talk about her shopping spree. For my part, I just kept checking my watch. She was presently in order, with just enough time for us to make for Impulse II and be on time to our dinner.