Icarus (16 page)

   Krif knew an order when he heard one, even one as subtle as hers. He
nodded reticently in agreement.

   “I’ll need someone who knows the layout of the ship.”

   Richard turned to Shawn. “As I recall, you served on the
Daedalus
as a junior communications officer.”

   Shawn’s eyes never left the decrepit
Icarus
. “I did.”

   “Then, I’m sure you can handle
this
without too much difficulty
I assume, Commander?”

   “I’ll manage.”

   “You’ll do better than ‘manage,’ hotshot. You will be Agent Graves’
guide and, should she get into any trouble, her insurance policy. Meaning
you’ll be required to put your life on the line to make sure she gets back to
the
Rhea
safe and sound. Is that clear enough for you, or do I need to
draw you a picture?”

   Shawn looked to Melissa, who only looked at him briefly before
returning her eyes to the dead destroyer.
Why do I always have to be the one
to rescue her?
“It’s clear,
Captain
. But I thought you said we
weren’t allowed to go out alone and—”

   “And you’re not. One of the Marines from the 92
^nd
Expeditionary Unit will meet you in the hangar.” Krif’s tone was slathered with
condescension. “He’ll be my eyes and ears over there. Is that all right with
you?”

   “Peachy, sir.” There was a muffled laugh, probably from Brunel. It was
hard for Shawn to tell. 

   Krif’s eye narrowed. “Good. Then I expect you not to screw it up.
Commander Brunel?”

   Raven snapped to attention. “Yes, sir?”

   “Raven, I need you and Drake to fly guard for the good
Commander
here. You’ll radio for assistance if there is any sign of trouble. I’ll also
have someone from the Skulls on standby-alert, ready to launch in less than
five seconds, should you need them.”

   “Understood, sir.”

   “I’m going to scramble a recovery craft, just in case we need to haul
back anything bigger than what the Commander can carry in our Mark-IV.”

   Shawn looked at the captain dubiously. “You mean
my
Mark-IV.”

   “No, I mean
my
Mark-IV.  As long as
that
craft is in
my
bay, and as long as you are under my command, that ship is under my
jurisdiction. It goes where I want it to go, when I want it to go there, and I
don’t really care who’s at the helm.”

   Shawn got the message. “So why
my
transport? Why not any one of
the dozen military ones you have on board?”

   “The smallest vessel I could put you in is fifteen feet longer and
eight feet wider than the Mark-IV. That seemingly large hole in the bow of the
cruiser is too small for our craft to safely navigate. You following me?”

   “Wait just a damn minute,
sir
. You want me to pilot my ship
into
that thing?” Shawn then pointed a stiff finger at the image of the
Icarus
.
“That’s beyond crazy. That’s asinine.”

   Richard was unfazed by Shawn’s concerns. “All the docking ports on the
Icarus
are either jammed shut or blown out. You’re the ace here,
Kestrel. Make it happen, and make doubly sure Agent Graves gets back here in
one piece and undamaged. Those are your orders, Lieutenant Commander Kestrel.”
Krif then turned to Melissa. “And frankly, I don’t care what you think about
it, in case you were looking to object.”

   “I can get someone else to bring me on board the
Icarus
,
Captain. I don’t need
him
.”

   Shawn snapped his head toward Melissa. “Like hell you don’t, lady! I’m
not letting anyone but me behind the controls of my ship.”

   “For now, Agent Graves, I’m reluctantly going to agree with Kestrel on
this. No one
currently
knows that ship better than he does, and it’s the
only one that can ferry you over at the moment. I can’t open any larger access
points in the hull of the
Icarus
without jeopardizing the vessel’s
structural stability.”

   “Meaning?” she asked in frustration.

   “Meaning, my dear, that you’re stuck with Kestrel, he’s stuck with
you, and you’re both leaving in ten minutes. Deal with it and move on, people.
You can have a lover’s quarrel about it when you get back.”

   “Now wait just a minute, Captain!” Melissa faltered, and Shawn noticed
that her posture was like that of a tiger getting ready to pounce on its next
meal. He decided a hasty retreat was in order, and cut her off with a grab of
her forearm, pulling her away from Krif and out of the command center.

   “Unhand me, Commander. Unhand me this instant!” She continued to offer
Shawn various rebukes, some more colorful than others, until the CIC doors had
shut firmly behind them.

* * *

   With his hand now firmly around Melissa’s right bicep, Shawn guided
her along the winding passageways of the
Rhea
until they’d come to a
deserted t-shaped intersection. He released her the moment they came to a stop
and whirled on his heel to face her. “Would you mind telling me what all that
was about?”

   “Of all the nerve!” she spat furiously. “That man is so exasperating!
It’s a wonder you two don’t get along better than you do.”

   “And just what in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

   She threw her arms out to her sides in frustration. “I’ve never before
been as angry in my life as I have been over you two in the last twenty-four
hours. You and Krif seem to come from the same stock when it comes to your ways
with women.”

   “Okay, let’s not get nasty here. After all, you’re the one talking
about sending out my ship without me at the controls. You mind explaining that
little oversight to me?”

   “I was just trying to look out for your safety, Commander.”

   “I can look out for myself, lady,” he said, throwing a thumb into his
chest for emphasis. “And now it seems I’ll be looking out for both of us.”

   “I can take care of myself, too, you know. It may surprise you to know
that I got along just fine before I met you.”

   Shawn took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm his
already-frazzled nerves. “Yeah, I know you can. That still doesn’t mean I’m
keen on the idea of you going over there without me.”

   Melissa likewise took a calming pause. “I’m…I’m sorry, Shawn. It’s
just when I saw the
Icarus
…and realized it was from the group sent out
to find my father, I—” Tears began to well in her eyes as her speech drifted
into silence.

   Shawn reached out a hand to her, which she took as an invitation to
jump into a tight embrace with him. She began to sob softly into his shoulder
as he lightly stroked the back of her hair. 

   “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered in a consolatory tone. “We’re
going to find him.”

   “I’ve never been so scared,” she cried. “Please, tell me he’s going to
be alive. Tell me that everything will be okay, and that this has all been a
bad nightmare.”

   He wished he could, for both of their sakes.

   “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t.” She held on to him a moment
longer before her grip loosened.

   Shawn lightly kissed the top of her head as her sobs became more
pronounced, shutting out any chance that she could even hear the words she’d
wanted him to say. Eventually, Melissa gently pushed away from him, and he gave
her a soft kiss on the lips. She collected herself, sniffling and running a
hand across her face to wipe away the tears. Seeing that she was still shaken, he
curved his arm loosely around her waist and led her without further incident to
her quarters. Once he’d deposited her there, with a promise from her that she’d
soon be ready to depart the
Rhea
, Shawn left for his own cabin to get
ready for the mission and to call Trent to have him ready
Sylvia’s Delight
for the journey.

* * *

   After requesting the assistance of a very disgruntled Trent—apparently
disengaging him from an extremely lucrative conversation he’d been having with
a female technician—Shawn put on the dark gray flight suit that had recently
been cleaned and hung outside his door. Under the suit he wore a bright yellow
t-shirt, matching the same shade as the emblem adorning the patch of the 538
^th
Unified Interceptor Squadron that was neatly sewn above the left breast pocket.
He hurriedly put on his flight boots when Melissa called from her stateroom,
saying that she would meet him in the main hangar deck as soon as he was ready.
He went to the computer safe that was imbedded in the starboard bulkhead and
entered his personal code, the birthday of his late wife. With a pop and a hiss
the hatch opened, and Shawn reached in to withdraw his standard issue sidearm.
He inspected the lightweight, black pistol that was nearly the length of his
forearm. Checking that it had a full charge, he put it back into its holster
with a snap. “You never can be too careful,” he said aloud, then left for the
hangar.

   On the hangar deck, Trent Maddox was giving
D
a final once over
before Shawn and Melissa departed.

   “Everything look okay?” Shawn asked.

   “Picture perfect. In fact, she was perfect when I got here. I don’t
see why you needed to pull me away from a very stimulating conversation.”

   “I didn’t know you were busy. Besides, I really don’t care.”

   “I care about your love life, you know. You
could
make an
exception for mine.”

   Shawn gave an exaggerated shudder. “Please, I don’t want to think
about what your love life would look like. I mean, have you seen some of the
women on this ship? Rough doesn’t even come close to—”

   “I finished adjusting the environmental controls, Trent,” a soft voice
called out behind Shawn.

   Trent’s blue eyes lit up as he smiled over Shawn’s shoulder. “Thanks,
Clarissa.”

   Realizing that the originator of the voice was right behind him,
Shawn, flabbergasted, looked to Trent, who only gave a subtle nod before
inclining his head to his newest assistant. Shawn turned around to see his very
own maintenance and supply officer, the garrulous Ensign Clarissa McAllister.
She was dressed in a set of dark blue technician coveralls, her blonde hair
spilling casually over her shoulders. She was cradling a lightweight aerolevel
in her hands as she smiled at Shawn, her violet eyes twinkling.

   “I think she’s all ready for you, Skipper,” McAllister beamed with
pride.

   “Thanks,” he said, dumbfounded. Shawn had to admit that, although
McAllister was somewhat loquacious, she was nonetheless quite attractive. “I
had no idea you were versed in mechanics.”

   “I did my first two tours in engineering, sir,” she replied as if this
were something he should have known from reading her personnel file—which he
had yet to do.

   “Yes. Yes, of course you did,” he stammered.

   Completely disregarding protocol—to say nothing about military
bearings or restrictions about enlisted men fraternizing with officers—Trent
rounded Shawn and put a gentle arm around Clarissa’s waist. “Have I told you
what an absolute angel you are?” he cooed.

   Shawn watched as an enormous smile of satisfaction crossed her face.
“Not in the last ten minutes.”

   Trent moved in, nuzzling her nose with his own. “And have I told you
how attractive you look with that aerolevel in your hands, and how exciting it
is that you know how to use it?”

   Clarissa put her arms around his neck. “Yes, about ten times. But you
can always tell me again.”

   Feeling exceedingly uncomfortable on multiple levels, Shawn coughed
loudly, hoping to bring the overt display of affection to an end before he lost
his lunch.

   Trent and Clarissa reluctantly disengaged themselves from one another,
and Shawn got the distinct impression that McAllister gave him a brief look of
resentment.

   Shawn looked from one to the other, then back, before finally leveling
his eyes sternly on McAllister. “Ensign, I’m not going to tell you that, as an
officer, you…” he started, but then lost his train of thought. He swiftly
pointed a finger at Trent. “And, as for you, I’m not going to say that you have
to…you know…as an enlisted member of the crew, I mean…” then he lost his thoughts
on the matter once more.

   Both Trent and Clarissa exchanged nervous side-glances with one
another as Shawn silently teetered an accusatory finger from one to other for
several seconds before speaking again.

   “You know what?” Shawn asked rhetorically, then waved a dismissive
hand. “Forget it. Just forget it. You’re both old enough and, Lord willing,
smart enough to know what you’re doing.”

   The two seemed to share an exhalation of relief.

   “Just, for pity’s sake, try to keep it in your respective cabins,
okay? I don’t want to give the rest of the crew the impression that I don’t
know how to handle my own people.”

   “Yes, sir,” McAllister said with well-trained military precision.

   “Of course, Skipper,” Trent likewise replied, but with marked
casualness.

   “Good. I’m glad we…you know…got that settled.” He then raised a hand
to his forehead in a perfect salute. “By all means, carry on, you two.”

   They both saluted Shawn, then departed the hangar in a near-jog. Shawn
didn’t want to think of where they were going, or what they were going to do
when they got there. He just hoped no one else noticed.

   Melissa entered the hangar with one of the ship’s Marines close on her
heels; both of them were nearly bowled over by the retreating couple slipping
out of the maglift. Melissa had changed into a flight suit very similar to
Shawn’s. However, he was pleasantly surprised to see that hers was far more
formfitting.

   She smiled as she stepped closer. “They make a cute couple.”