The Crucible: Leap of Faith (5 page)

Though I was bone tired, I still
pulled on some casual clothes and walked from my room, hands stowed
firmly in the pockets of my jacket.

It didn’t take long to make it out
of my ship and along one of the metal gangways that connected my
vessel to the primary docking ring.

With my hands still stowed in my
pockets and my shoulders hunched, I kept to myself as I passed crew
from various other ships.

Without my uniform, I was just
another civilian.

Staring at my boots as I walked,
listening to the slight echoing bounce of the metal gangway as I
took every step, I tried to lull myself into a false sense of
calm.

By the time I reached the main
civilian areas of the station, a glum frown had set hard around my
lips.

There was no way I was going to
enjoy this last night off.

Though I walked past several bars,
and even saw a few of my own crew, I did not join them.

Instead I headed to the main
observation deck and then right past it. There was another small
observation area tucked in behind it that few people used. Rather
than show an unimpeded view of the planet below, it was directed
out at space. Due to the light pollution of the station, you could
barely see any stars.

There wasn’t much to look at, and
that was the point. Nobody would disturb me.

I entered the secondary
observation deck, hands still stowed in my pockets. Head still
directed at my shoes, it took me a moment to realize I wasn’t
alone.

There was a woman sitting on the
single small couch that was directed towards the circular
window.

Her hands were rested in her lap,
her head angled down to stare at them.

A prickle of recognition escaped
down my spine as I realized who it was. From the short
strawberry-blond hair to her morose disposition, it was Ensign
Jenks.

I hesitated, wondering whether I
should just leave.

She turned before I
could.

Her gaze flicked towards me. You
couldn’t say she had pretty eyes. They were nothing compared to the
stunning white-blue of Argoza’s pupils. But there was a certain
quality about Ensign Jenks’ stare. It was the type of gaze I
imagined a trapped tiger would give. Wary, guarded - someone who
had not given up hope of escape.

My lips twitched into a smile.
“Sorry for disturbing you, Ensign,” I mumbled.

“If you were looking for a place
to sit,” she rose to her feet, took a step back, and indicated the
small couch, “go ahead. I was just leaving.”

She was not just leaving. It was
clear she was only getting up because I had arrived.

My hands were still in my pockets,
and my fingers drummed against the side of my legs as I wondered
how to handle this.

There was clearly something going
on with Ensign Jenks. But she’d only been a member of my crew for a
few short days, and even then it was merely a
technicality.

She wasn’t my responsibility, in
other words.

That didn’t stop me from walking
further into the room and planting myself beside the window. I shot
her another encouraging close-lipped smile.

She didn’t appear to know what to
do with it. She took a step back, and it was obvious she was about
to leave.

“You don’t need to leave on my
account, Ensign,” I said, authority pitching through my
tone.

The authority had its intended
purpose, and she stopped, albeit for a fraction of a second. She
tilted her head towards me, that angular hair sliding across her
face to frame that trapped stare.

I found myself swallowing. “You
left the party early tonight.”

“I wouldn’t have thought anyone
would have noticed, sir.” She didn’t look at me as she spoke,
preferring to let her gaze slip towards the door.

“It wasn’t just
thrown for my crew. The
Fargo
went through a hell of an incident. If you’re…” I
trailed off. I wanted to tell her that if she’d suffered some kind
of trauma from it, she could get help.

But I stopped myself. Something
told me that Ensign Jenks’ troubles extended further than recent
events.

She took another step
back.

My training told me I should just
let her leave. My training didn’t always win out. Occasionally the
man underneath would raise his little head and tell me to do the
right thing, not the accepted thing. “I could use a little company,
to be honest,” I lied.

She looked confused. Fair enough.
It wasn’t every day that a lieutenant commander imposed
companionship upon an ensign he barely knew.

Hopefully she wouldn’t get the
wrong idea about this.

…
Or any idea, in fact – it looked
as if she’d barely registered my words.

As her gaze slipped from the
window then back to the door, it was clear she was… running from
something.

Maybe it was just me and my odious
company, or maybe Ensign Jenks needed to let something off her
chest.

“Where are you
going to be stationed after the
Fargo
?” I asked, realizing the only
legitimate way to keep her in the room was to pepper her with
official questions, questions she would be obliged to answer as I
was her superior officer.

“I have a
temporary posting on the
Ra’xon
. She’s coming into dock soon.”
She never made eye contact when she spoke.

“The
Ra’xon
, ha? That’s a
flagship. What’s your specialty?”

“I don’t have
one. I’m on general rotation at the moment. I’m not staying on
the
Ra’xon
– it
will just take me to my next posting.”

I nodded. Then I pushed my mind
into the task of finding another question – any question to keep
her in the room.

“How long have you been in the
Star Forces?”

This time her gaze locked on the
floor between us and seemed as if it would not lift, even if the
window behind us shattered and shot us out into space. “A few years
now.”

Most enlisted recruits would be
able to tell you how long they’d been in the Star Forces down to
the day. It was drilled into them at every opportunity. How much
time you sacrificed for the Alliance was your greatest honor. Or so
they told us at the Academy.

“Which Academy did you graduate
from?”

She took a snapped step backwards,
her short hair swinging under her jaw until she finally tipped her
head back and stared at me. “There’s no need to engage me in
conversation, sir. If you wish for company, I suggest you head to
one of the bars.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked
out.

No salute, no goodbye, she just
stalked away from me.

I spluttered. I could have pulled
her up – could have told her to stop where she was and treat me
like an officer.

I didn’t. I watched her
go.

I got the sudden urge to follow
her.

I didn’t follow through with it.
That would be stalking, and I really doubted that when the Admiral
had told me to enjoy my last night, she’d envisaged I’d spend it
skulking around after some random ensign.

Instead I let out a rattling sigh,
pressing a hand up and over my face until my fingers raked across
my short hair.

Turning, I sat down roughly on the
low couch.

I placed my hands on my knees,
crumpled my shoulders, and finally I raised my head and stared at
the view.

I should stop distracting myself.
I should figure out what I was going to do when I reached the Hari
System.

I brought a tensed hand up and
pushed my fingers across my brow, letting them drop until they
cupped my chin, my grip so tight it was like I was trying to choke
myself.

I didn’t get the
chance.

I heard soft laughter from behind
me. “Really? This is how we’re going to spend your last night off
in several months?” A light voice asked.

I turned with a grin. “Lieutenant
Annabelle Williams, are you stalking me?”

Lieutenant Williams snorted, a
move that did not match the delicate beauty of the tall brunette.
She marched into the room, boots slapping hard against the polished
floor. Then she stood before me, neck arched back, arms crossed in
front of her chest. “Stalking implies some effort, Nathan. I knew
you’d be here. I just knew you’d spend your last night of freedom
tucked into some lonely corner rather than celebrating with the
rest of us.”

“Rest of us?” My brow
crumpled.

She reached behind her and
gesticulated with her hand. Suddenly a hologram leaped up from the
implant in her left wrist. “I have new orders, Nathan, and they’re
to accompany you on your next mission. So you don’t screw up,” she
took a lot of pleasure in saying that.

My brow crumpled, but I kept my
grin on my face. “You’re transferring to my crew?”

She nodded, a single strand of her
long shiny brunette hair cutting across her face. Immediately she
grasped it and tried to fix it back into the tight bun she always
wore.

Lieutenant Williams always
maintained a professional appearance. Her uniform was immaculate,
and she polished her command stripes every day. Even when you went
into battle with her, she would always look perfect.

“I’ve heard wild things about your
crew. That you never fail a mission, and that you’re turning into
the top brass’ favorite ship. Well, I’m going to have a great time
proving everyone wrong, Nathan.”

I carefully wiped the smile off my
face. “Nathan? Are we on a first-term basis, Lieutenant?” I reached
my hand behind me and leaned back on the couch as I faced
her.

For a second – for just a second –
her usual calm control cracked.

Then I laughed.

She shot me a grim look. “You call
that a sense of humor?”

I continued to chuckle as I
brought a hand up and scratched my head. “I’m renowned for it. I
think you’ll find, Lieutenant, that I run a different ship. Your
last posting will be nothing compared to this.”

“Considering my last posting ended
with critical engine failure, I really hope you’re
right.”

I sat up
straighter. “Crap, that’s right, you were on the
Fargo
, weren’t
you?”

She snorted. “I can’t believe
you’ve forgotten already; your ship did intercept us and provide
assistance. Just because the command crew were picked up by a
different vessel doesn’t mean you get to casually shrug off the
fact you saved my life a week ago.”

I stood. I hadn’t really heard a
word she’d said. “Do you know an Ensign Jenks?”

Williams blinked, confusion clear
in her hazel eyes. “Yes, why?” She looked at me
pointedly.

“What’s she like? I mean, she
seems so… distant.”

“Yes, but why are you asking this,
Nathan?”

“Call it curiosity. I’ve seen her
around a few times now, and… she just looks so lonely.”

Williams tipped her head back and
laughed. “I can’t believe this. You’re still running around being a
Good Samaritan, aren’t you? You were always the one at the Academy
who tried to ensure everyone felt included. It might make you a
nice guy, Nathan, but it doesn’t make you a good commander. What’s
going on in Ensign Jenks' head is her own problem. As soon as it
starts to influence her duties, then you deal with it.”

“I’m more of a risk management
type of guy. I want to know that every member of my crew is okay.
And I want to help them out before their problems impact their
duties.”

“Well, she isn’t a member of your
crew. It’s not your problem. Ensign Jenks is just quiet. She was
always prompt for her shifts and did what she was told. Though her
skills are unexceptional, she appears to be a hard worker. Nobody
ever had any problems with her, apart from her
roommates.”

“Roommates?”

“Nothing really. It appears that
Ensign Jenks talks in her sleep. Most people find it quite
distracting. We ended up giving her her own room.”

“What does she say?”

“Really, Nathan?” Her jaw dropped
dramatically. “It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t you be focusing on our
next mission?”

There was little I could do but
nod. I should be focusing on my next mission.

I brought a hand up and massaged
my face, revealing a little more tension than I should
have.

Williams sat down next to me. “I
know infiltration missions aren’t your style, but this is
important,” her voice shook.

Annabelle was composed at all
times. But now she looked… fragile.

It stole my attention away as I
swallowed. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath and leaned
back on her hands, letting her gaze flick towards the unremarkable
view of space beyond. “The resistance is real, Nathan,” her voice
dipped low until it was almost a whisper. “And they’re gathering
momentum. They aren’t staying in the shadows anymore. Last week
alone we had over 50 terrorist attacks throughout the
Alliance.”