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Authors: Michael Jan Friedman
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ranks as quickly as she should have.
And her manner didn’t help any. Brusque. Icy, even, some had said. But underneath, Mansfield had sensed a good officer. He’d taken a chance on her—and was glad of it ever since.
“I know you,” he said. “You’re nervous. And I think we both know why.”
“No.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I am surprised.”
“That Morgen would want you to be with him at a time like this?”
“Yes. After what happened…I don’t think he said two words to me. Then came Maxia Zeta and…well, frankly, I thought I’d never see him again.”
“Maybe this is his way of making amends for all that. You and your sister were different people—vastly different, as it turns out. Can it be he’s finally figured that out?”
Idun’s eyes blazed momentarily. “He is Daa’Vit. When it comes to blood feuds…”
“He might not be the same person you knew back then,” suggested Mansfield. He looked at her. “People can change a lot in thirteen years. Especially when they’ve spent half of them in a command chair.” He cleared his throat. “Take me, for instance. I wasn’t always an iron-willed dictator, you know.”
Idun scowled. “He is Daa’Vit. That will not have changed.”
“At least try and go in with an open mind,” he pleaded. “Remember—you’ll be seeing other familiar faces as well. Surely they didn’t all treat you as Morgen did.”
Idun thought about it. “No,” she conceded. “Suppose there are some I would like to see again.”
“There you go. That’s the Idun Asmund that I know.” He grunted. “And don’t worry about us. We’ll just go off and risk our lives somewhere while you take your grand paid vacation.”
Her brows knit. “Captain, I can still decline this. Here is where my priorities lie.”
“It was a joke, Idun. Just a joke.”
She relaxed again. “Of course it was,” she noted.
He chided himself for joking about duty with her. When one had been raised by Klingons, one didn’t take such things lightly.
Pug Joseph was just where Erwin expected to find him—sitting by himself in the corner of the lounge. He does too much of that lately, the Lexington’ s first officer told himself. No wonder he’s getting into trouble.
As Erwin approached, Joseph turned around. His expression said that he wanted to be left alone. Then he saw who it was, and his features softened.
“Commander. To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, grinning.
The first officer turned his resolve up a notch. There was something about Joseph that made it very difficult to be stern with him. Maybe it was the man’s resemblance to Erwin’s brother’s boy, who had died in a skirmish with the Tholians. After all, Joseph had the same close-cropped sandy hair, the same upturned nose. Or was it that no-nonsense attitude, a throwback to the first rough days of inter-stellar flight, that made him so endearing? The quality that, years earlier in his stint on the Stargazer, had earned Joseph the nickname “Pug”?
No matter. Erwin had promised himself he wasn’t going to leave it alone this time. He wouldn’t be doing anybody any good by ignoring the problem.
The first officer pulled up a seat and leaned close to Joseph. “I’ll tell you what you owe this visit to. I just got a subspace message from my pal Marcus—on the Fearless?”
Joseph’s grin started to fade. “Oh,” he said.
“You know what Marcus told me,” Erwin went on. “Don’t you?”
The other man nodded. “Something about a little disagreement, I bet. One in which his man got the worst of it.” The grin started to reassert itself. “You should’ve seen my right hook, Commander. I haven’t lost a thing.”
With an effort, Erwin frowned. “Fighting,” he said, “at your age—and you a security chief, no less!” He shook his head disapprovingly. “It’s a disgrace, Pug. It’s got to stop.”
Joseph looked at him. “You should’ve heard what he said about
And her manner didn’t help any. Brusque. Icy, even, some had said. But underneath, Mansfield had sensed a good officer. He’d taken a chance on her—and was glad of it ever since.
“I know you,” he said. “You’re nervous. And I think we both know why.”
“No.” She folded her arms across her chest. “I am surprised.”
“That Morgen would want you to be with him at a time like this?”
“Yes. After what happened…I don’t think he said two words to me. Then came Maxia Zeta and…well, frankly, I thought I’d never see him again.”
“Maybe this is his way of making amends for all that. You and your sister were different people—vastly different, as it turns out. Can it be he’s finally figured that out?”
Idun’s eyes blazed momentarily. “He is Daa’Vit. When it comes to blood feuds…”
“He might not be the same person you knew back then,” suggested Mansfield. He looked at her. “People can change a lot in thirteen years. Especially when they’ve spent half of them in a command chair.” He cleared his throat. “Take me, for instance. I wasn’t always an iron-willed dictator, you know.”
Idun scowled. “He is Daa’Vit. That will not have changed.”
“At least try and go in with an open mind,” he pleaded. “Remember—you’ll be seeing other familiar faces as well. Surely they didn’t all treat you as Morgen did.”
Idun thought about it. “No,” she conceded. “Suppose there are some I would like to see again.”
“There you go. That’s the Idun Asmund that I know.” He grunted. “And don’t worry about us. We’ll just go off and risk our lives somewhere while you take your grand paid vacation.”
Her brows knit. “Captain, I can still decline this. Here is where my priorities lie.”
“It was a joke, Idun. Just a joke.”
She relaxed again. “Of course it was,” she noted.
He chided himself for joking about duty with her. When one had been raised by Klingons, one didn’t take such things lightly.
Pug Joseph was just where Erwin expected to find him—sitting by himself in the corner of the lounge. He does too much of that lately, the Lexington’ s first officer told himself. No wonder he’s getting into trouble.
As Erwin approached, Joseph turned around. His expression said that he wanted to be left alone. Then he saw who it was, and his features softened.
“Commander. To what do I owe this visit?” he asked, grinning.
The first officer turned his resolve up a notch. There was something about Joseph that made it very difficult to be stern with him. Maybe it was the man’s resemblance to Erwin’s brother’s boy, who had died in a skirmish with the Tholians. After all, Joseph had the same close-cropped sandy hair, the same upturned nose. Or was it that no-nonsense attitude, a throwback to the first rough days of inter-stellar flight, that made him so endearing? The quality that, years earlier in his stint on the Stargazer, had earned Joseph the nickname “Pug”?
No matter. Erwin had promised himself he wasn’t going to leave it alone this time. He wouldn’t be doing anybody any good by ignoring the problem.
The first officer pulled up a seat and leaned close to Joseph. “I’ll tell you what you owe this visit to. I just got a subspace message from my pal Marcus—on the Fearless?”
Joseph’s grin started to fade. “Oh,” he said.
“You know what Marcus told me,” Erwin went on. “Don’t you?”
The other man nodded. “Something about a little disagreement, I bet. One in which his man got the worst of it.” The grin started to reassert itself. “You should’ve seen my right hook, Commander. I haven’t lost a thing.”
With an effort, Erwin frowned. “Fighting,” he said, “at your age—and you a security chief, no less!” He shook his head disapprovingly. “It’s a disgrace, Pug. It’s got to stop.”
Joseph looked at him. “You should’ve heard what he said about
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