Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer (20 page)

“I have orders.”
 

“Okay then…” He sighed and tried once again to establish a link.
Allow me to…

She backed away another step.

He leaned close and whispered into her ear, “Dana, you saved my life at Capitol City. Let me return the favor. Get off this mission.”

Dana had no time to ponder his meaning. Ensign Lewis stood in the hatchway, very blatantly staring at the two of them. She realized the compromising position she was in and reacted, abruptly pushing “Captain Tighe” forcefully away.

“You keep your ‘bloody’ paws off me, Captain Tighe, or I’ll see you are confined to the brig.”

That caught Kieran totally by surprise. He stared, stunned for only the briefest moment, then caught on and reverted to his assumed persona.

“You keep your bloody hands off my ship, Mister C! And don’t jinx her, or you’ll regret it.” He stormed past Lewis and loudly bounded down the ramp to the lower deck.

“Charming man,” Dana commented to Lewis. “That’s the captain of this ship. Better post security guards here and in the engine room, just to be safe. I’ll inform the captain.” She gathered up her scanner and, with a last icy glance over her shoulder, left the
Karis
bridge.

Ensign Lewis gave no sign of disbelief, appearing to be totally fooled by Dana’s acting.

Still, she fretted over the exchange, while waiting to MAT transfer back to
Lancer
, her hands quaking, and thoughts in turmoil. Kieran Jai, an SSID Colonel, was impersonating the captain of the trader ship,
Karis
, it gave the mission a whole different slant. A dangerous one…

Sam Ehrmann reached her first, offering his right arm. “Are you okay, Mister Cartwright?”

Dana looked at him, blinked, and then looked at where his hand gripped her arm. “Do you feel it?”

She looked from Ehrmann to the lieutenant at the MAT controls.
 

“Sir?”

“That vibration…It…” She took a step. “Can’t you feel it?” she demanded of the MAT-SYS Chief. “Something is wrong with the drive alignments or…”

He stared back. “Sorry, Mister Cartwright, I’ve been aboard
Big L
for a lot of years. I don’t feel a thing out of the ordinary.” He offered kindly, “Maybe you…maybe you should see Doctor Patel.”

Dana shook off his hand and started for the door. “I’m fine. She’s a nice one, Sam. You need to up your odds for this mission.”

He chuckled nervously as she stepped out into the corridor.
 

Once out of his view, she leaned against the bulkhead and closed her eyes. N-link still about her neck or not, she could feel the discord like a small earthquake, rumbling through the ship.

She took some readings with the recorder and appended them to the end of the file on the data module the Captain had given her, but wished she had a baseline reading from a few days ago to compare. The vibration seemed significantly worse.
 

“Not good,” she moaned, “not good at all.” Though still feeling disoriented, she chided herself, silently demanding,
Stay focused, DD…
However, seeing Kieran again just compounded the tension.

Silently, she mulled over the turn of events as she headed down to supply, to return the scanner to inventory.

What in galaxy’s name is Kieran Jai doing here, if not to set a trap for some members of
Lancer
’s officer staff; a trap to catch them in the act of…of what? Treason?

Preoccupied with worry over Kieran Jai’s order to get off the mission, Dana nearly missed seeing Security Chief Gordon corner Chief Kulak in the corridor outside the supply center.

Kulak looked quite put out, and though they were whispering, it seemed quite obvious the discussion was escalating into a heated argument.

Dana secluded herself from view and strained her hearing hoping for some hint as to the nature of the disagreement. Empathetically, she picked up even stronger emotions, but only caught a word or two of the conversation. There seemed little connection. She heard them mention a “Jim,” and ran through the list of officers names, until she found a Jim. It was none other than James Mansfield, Chief Weaponry Officer.

Her suspicions were even more piqued when Mansfield turned the far corner and joined the two men. Rather than risk being discovered eaves-dropping, she had to act. The scanner in her hand provided the excuse for being at supply, though she could as easily have checked it in later.

“Here goes,” she muttered and started toward the trio.

Instant silence greeted her, though the receptions were quite disparate. Gordon seemed agreeable, Kulak nodded acknowledgement as she expected, but Mansfield was belligerent, and spitefully called, “Aren’t you late for your shift, Mister Cartwright?”

If he intended to provoke, it didn’t work. She forced a pleasant smile in response and called in passing, “Not according to the new duty roster, Mister Mansfield.”

“Look again,” he shot at her and began to snicker. “The Captain’s sure upset about it.”

Dana let the taunt go without a retort. His intent was clear, to plant the seed of doubt, make her afraid that the roster had been changed.

She knew it hadn’t. Besides, Macao gave the order to work on
Karis
.

Yet…

Dana dropped the scanner off with no word of thanks and demanded the ensign at the supply station, “Call up the duty roster for me.”

“I don’t have a clear terminal right now, sir,” he answered, but Dana wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Then clear it and do it, Ensign!” She watched and waited, finally swiveled the terminal around to do it herself. To her great relief, the roster that appeared on the screen matched the one she’d prepared and authorized through her yeoman, with no changes or additions.

Mansfield had lied to intimidate and provoke her.

Well, he’ll get his
, she vowed. She needed an excuse to get off the mission team. He was going to be the scapegoat.

“I need six new uniforms. This time, I want ladies, tunic-style, with over-jackets, size petite, extra small.”

The ensign entered the order. “I can have them delivered, sir.”

Dana shook her head. “I’ll wait.” It would give Gordon, Kulak and Mansfield time to clear the corridor.

After a few minutes, the ensign retrieved a bundle from the duplicator and handed it over.

“Excellent…thank you,” Dana casually flung over her shoulder as she headed for the exit.

She stopped at her quarters, thinking about changing into a fresh uniform. The instant she removed her old uniform top, she had the alibi she needed.

Mansfield’s brutal force had left bruise marks upon her arms and shoulders. In another day, they’d look even worse, but already were sore to the touch and an ugly greenish-gray.

Perfect! They’ll be my ticket off the mission — my excuse.
 

It fulfilled Kieran’s order without a second thought. Even Captain Macao couldn’t ignore them.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dana decided to wear one of the new jackets over her current uniform top, sealing the seam closed. Though still disturbed by the discordant vibration, she felt ready to face Captain Macao. As an afterthought,
 
she slipped off the N-link from about her neck, leaving it on the desk. Was Kieran the reason why the Captain had ordered her to wear it while aboard
Karis
? Could that be it?
 

She couldn’t tell just yet.

With the data chip of her findings on the trader in the jacket pocket, Dana headed up to the Captain’s quarters. This time, when he bade her enter, she charged in.

Macao wasn’t expecting her; and that made her case all the easier, having the element of surprise.

“Captain, I cannot work with that man! He is insufferably rude! And belligerent! I swear, he hates women. I will not stand for it. I’ll transfer out. If he’s on the team, I’m off!”

She mustered as much venom as possible for the long-winded tirade and, though not as good an actor as Kieran Jai, she thought it went well.

Macao, however, found it mildly amusing. He got up from his desk and looked down upon her. “Don’t let him get to you, Dana. He’s all wind.”

“Captain, he threatened me physically. I will not tolerate such abuse.”

“Threatened you? Dana, you’re more than capable of….”

She glared at Macao. “If you refuse to listen to me, I’ll just go enter my transfer request right now.” She whirled about and started for the door.

Macao loudly scolded, “You’re not dismissed.”

At the command, Dana froze in her tracks, turned about, and snapped to attention. She made a brave attempt of fighting back tears, which had come unbidden to her eyes. His tone triggered a gut reaction, worse than DOC Cartwright’s scolding when she was a child.

Macao looked quite tired and irritable. Fed up. That was a good description. Dana almost regretted dumping this on him now.

“I’ll take care of Tighe,” he offered. “He won’t give you any more trouble.”

Dana’s mouth dropped open. “Captain, I wasn’t speaking of Tighe. It’s Mansfield!” She gritted her teeth, just thinking of the man. “So help me, if I run into him one more time, I’m going to kill him. And it’ll be a clear case of self-defense.”

She looked down at the deck so that he couldn’t see her eyes.

Macao stiffened. “Does this constitute a formal complaint?”

Dana nodded.

“What did Mansfield do, besides bruise your ego?”

It was a cruel thing for a commanding officer to say. She glared, too stunned to reply.

“You told me you weren’t a squeamish female, but you come running to me crying like one.” Macao said accusingly, “Support your accusations or drop the complaint.”

Dana stared at the deck. “I will not withdraw the complaint,” she said. “Permission to leave?”

“Denied! Dana?” Macao crossed the room to face her, gripping her shoulders firmly.
 

She winced in pain.

His face went cold. “Remove your jacket,” he ordered. He tugged on the sleeves to speed up the process and stood behind her, pulling her uniform top up over her head.

She clutched the shirt to her breasts, suddenly embarrassed by the whole affair, but it was her bare arms and shoulders Macao stared at; and the greenish-gray bruises Mansfield’s assault had left.

“Mansfield did this?” Macao slid his hands tenderly down her arms then bowed his head until his forehead touched the back of her head, his cheek pressed against her fiery hair. “Dana…I’m sorry. I…” He scowled. “Forgive me for doubting you. I’ll convene a court-martial as soon as this mission is over.
 
In the meantime, he won’t have an opportunity to trouble you again.”

Dana silently slid her shirt back on. Macao held the jacket up, but made no movement to give it back to her, offering, instead, “I apologize for my insensitivity.”

“Captain?”

“I’ll need a medical report from Patel and you’ll need to dictate a full account. Don’t let your yeoman transcribe it. I want the original.”

Dana shuddered at the thought of Doctor Patel having to examine the bruises. “Captain, I…don’t want to press charges. I just want to be off the team. You can’t afford to have your command staff bickering on such a critical mission.”

“And I can’t ignore this! Assaulting an officer… Mister Mansfield must be censured.”

“Sir, I don’t want this to go any farther. Don’t you see, I’ll never get another assignment if word of this reaches my mentor in the Star Service.” Dana shuddered at the thought. “I shouldn’t have come to you.”

“You should have come earlier.”

“I did,” she protested, rolling her eyes in frustration.

Macao frowned. “Yes, you did.” He patted her shoulder. “And I was too wrapped up with the situation to sense the problem. I wrote off the resentment of you on the bridge as being Dan Nichols. However, Mansfield was equally hostile.”

Dana turned to face him. “To be perfectly honest, Captain, every officer on board has been resentful at one point or another, including yourself.”

Macao scowled, momentarily speechless. He held the jacket up for her to slide her arms into it. “I’m certain my attitude has a great deal to do with this. I set the precedent.”

He turned toward the silent life-star. “I confess my insensitivity. There have been very few women in my life that have lived up to my expectations.”

“Like your mate?”

He nodded, “And the Enturian Fleet Master Captain.”

Dana could easily draw conclusions about the ‘type’ which impressed Macao. They were women with few faults, emotionless, professional, powerful. She respected and admired them as well.

“I’m not in their league,” she admitted.

“I think you’re wrong, Doctor Dana,” Macao said, staring long and hard at her. “You’re every bit as capable, but you’ve been coddled by the Service. You just need experience. I want you on this mission.” He nodded toward her shoulders. “Those bruises aren’t enough to warrant replacing you.”

The gambit had failed. The only thing left to do was tell Macao the truth — at least, part of it.

“I have a confession to make, sir.” She faced him squarely. “Mansfield isn’t the only reason why I want off the mission.” She took a seat on the edge of the bunk. “It’s Tighe. I know him — from Earth.”

“Intimately?”

“Intimately,” Dana confessed.

Macao chuckled. “I thought as much. That look on your faces.”

“That obvious?”

“Oh, yes,” Macao said, studying her quite carefully, “It’s his memory of Forever Pointe…no wonder Shalee kept bringing it up to me.”

Dana nodded.

“He has some sort of hold over you. Something strong enough to make you give up your heart’s desire.”

Dana answered without a qualm, “Stronger.”

Macao deliberated some time before he admitting, “He’s with SSID.”

She didn’t dare lie, but locked stares with him.

“You’re not, though,” Macao continued. “Neville Brandt was. I see the picture.” He pegged it, “Entrapment…our spy aboard must be worth the risk.”

Dana didn’t answer.

“I won’t name the team members until the very last minute. For all practical purposes, behave as though you still desire to go.”