Fey Touched: Season One
Date: 2020-01-23 00:00:00+00:00
Description: **To survive, she must become one of them. To thrive, she must become the best. The walls of Dökkálfa have ears. They have ears and they whisper. And what they have to say can be chilling, but not all fairies hear them. Only those blessed by the Old Gods. And the one they call Skilja. Separate. Kara Middleton wasn't always a fairy. Heck, even now, she couldn't be called completely Fey. Because the Queen of Ljósálfar made her what she is and what she is...is frightening. A monster. But there is one fairy who is not afraid of Kara and the devastating power she wields as if her very own. For he,
Publisher: Independently published

Accelerating Universe

The Sector Fleet Book One

Nicola Claire

Copyright © 2018, Nicola Claire

All Rights Reserved

© 2017 Cover Art by Cora Graphics

© Depositphotos.com/Ravven

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organisations is entirely coincidental.

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

ISBN: 978-0-473-42710-8

Created with Vellum

Contents

About the Author

Free Download

Also By Nicola Claire

Description

Sector Fleet Advertisement

Prologue

1. Did You Hear Me?

2. Failure Was Not An Option

3. Follow The Blue Arrows

4. Next Stop Eris

5. They Don’t Feel Anything

6. I Have Been Told This Before

7. Trust Me, I’m Kinda A Doctor

8. Thank You, Mara

9. Don’t Let The Bastards Get You Down

10. I’m The Captain!

11. Let Me Think

12. What Now Captain?

13. I Feel…Responsible For The Ships

14. I Did Neither

15. This Is Ridiculous

16. No, That Is Not Right

17. Ana, Don’t Fool Yourself

18. Professional

19. Not A Bad View

20. And Then She Started Talking

21. About That

22. I Promise

23. What The Hell?

24. What Now?

25. Then You Are Part Of Mine

26. Not Just Some

27. I Do Trust You, Ana

28. Not Just A Pretty Face, Lieutenant

29. Don’t Look So Alarmed

30. I DIdn’t Get Much Sleep

31. The Walls Stayed Red

32. Fuck This

33. Later, Then

34. Yes, Sir

35. I Do Not Know

36. Believe What You Want

37. Nice Try, Ana

38. Acceptable

39. I Just Smiled

40. Ah, Shit

41. We Had A Plan

42. And Then It Hit Me

43. Definitely The Pain Meds

44. With Every Bit Of My Head And Heart

45. Security Alert

46. It’s Ana!

47. I Tasted Desert Sand

48. Purge Complete

49. Yes

50. OK, Then

51. Tempting Me

52. Are You Ready For This?

Epilogue

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About the Author

Nicola Claire lives in beautiful Taupo, New Zealand with her husband and two young boys.

She's tried her hand at being a paramedic, bank teller and medical sales representative, (not all necessarily in that order), but her love of writing keeps calling her back.

She has a passion for all things suspenseful, spiced up with a good dollop of romance, as long as they include strong characters - alpha males and capable females - and worlds which although make-believe are really quite believable in the end.

There's nothing better than getting caught up in a compelling, intriguing and romantic book.

When she's not writing or reading, she's out on her family boat at Lake Taupo, teaching her young boys to fish, showing them the beauty that surrounds them in nature and catching some delicious trout for dinner.

Creating rich worlds with dynamic characters and unexpected twists that shock and awe has been pure bliss for this author. And just as well, because there's a lot more story yet to tell...

For more information:

www.nicolaclairebooks.com
nicola@nicolaclairebooks.com

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Starter Library

* * *

Also By Nicola Claire

Kindred Series

Kindred

Blood Life Seeker

Forbidden Drink

Giver of Light

Dancing Dragon

Shadow's Light

Entwined With The Dark

Kiss Of The Dragon

Dreaming Of A Blood Red Christmas (Novella)

* * *

Mixed Blessing Mystery Series

Mixed Blessing

Dark Shadow (Coming Soon)

* * *

Sweet Seduction Series

Sweet Seduction Sacrifice

Sweet Seduction Serenade

Sweet Seduction Shadow

Sweet Seduction Surrender

Sweet Seduction Shield

Sweet Seduction Sabotage

Sweet Seduction Stripped

Sweet Seduction Secrets

Sweet Seduction Sayonara

* * *

Elemental Awakening Series

The Tempting Touch Of Fire

The Soothing Scent Of Earth

The Chilling Change Of Air

The Tantalising Taste Of Water

The Eternal Edge Of Aether (Novella)

* * *

H.E.A.T. Series

A Flare Of Heat

A Touch Of Heat

A Twist Of Heat (Novella)

A Lick Of Heat (Coming Soon)

* * *

Citizen Saga

Elite

Cardinal

Citizen

Masked (Novella)

Wiped

* * *

Scarlet Suffragette Series

Fearless

Breathless

Heartless (Coming Soon)

* * *

Blood Enchanted Series

Blood Enchanted

Blood Entwined

Blood Enthralled (Coming Soon)

* * *

44 South Series

Southern Sunset

Southern Storm

Southern Strike (Coming Soon)

* * *

Lost Time Series

Losing Time

Making Time (Coming Soon)

***

The Sector Fleet

Accelerating Universe

Apparent Brightness

Right Ascension (Coming Soon)

Description

"This is how we’d traverse the stars; limping and crippled, the last survivors of a dying solar system."

Fleeing from a past that almost killed her and a present that promises she’ll only burn, pay-for-passage passenger Ana Kereama boards the Sector Two lead vessel Pavo with only survival in mind.

What she finds is a reason to live, and it has nothing to do with New Earth.

Teaming up with the sexy and commanding Captain John Jameson to protect those on board their ship, Ana fights not only for her vessel’s survival but the intelligent being emerging within its gel-coated walls.

Love and trust are born amongst the stars and plasma fire, but is it possible for a captain to be involved with a second lieutenant?

And can any of them hope to survive the treacherous voyage unscathed?

When humanity reaches for the stars in a race for survival, only the most daring amongst them will succeed.

Accelerating Universe:

A model for the universe in which a repulsive force counteracts the attractive force of gravity, driving all the matter in the universe apart at speeds that increase with time. Recent observations of distant supernova explosions suggest that we may live in an accelerating universe.

Space Telescope Science Institute

Prologue

“T-minus three minutes to launch.”

<systems check>
all programmes nominal

<security check>
all locks engaged

<life support check>
air filtration functional

<engine check>
core temperature within allowed parameters

<souls on board>
one thousand one hundred ninety-six

<communications check>
fleet-wide communications activated

<ignition check>
ignition is go for launch

“T-minus two minutes to launch.”

<environmental check>
outside temperature at upper acceptable limit

<warning issued>

<alarm activated>
power diverted to ceramic field enhancers

<environmental check>
temperature exceeds acceptable limits

<warning issued>

<alarm activated>
power diverted to coolant system

“T-minus one minute to launch.”

<environmental check>
temperature exceeds acceptable limits

<warning issued>

<alarm activated>
power diverted to main boost thrust

<environmental check>
temperature exceeds acc…acc…acceptable limits

“T-minus 30 seconds to launch.”

<environmental check>

<warning>

<warning>

<warning>
pavo protocol alpha-1 instated
power diverted to auxiliary boost thrust

“Launch window closed.”

<environmental check>

<warning>
power diverted to main boost thrust

<warning>

<alarm suspended>
temperature exceeds acceptable limits

<warning>

<alarm suspended>
power diverted to pavo

<warning>

<alarm suspended>
ignition activated
ignition achieved
main engine start

<environmental check>
imminent solar flare

<warning>

<alarm suspended>
power diverted to pavo

<warning>

<alarm suspended>
launch achieved

“Lift-off outside of launch window.”

<environmental check>
temperature exceeds acceptable limits
power diverted to ceramic field enhancers

<warning>

<warning>

<warning>
pavo protocol alpha-beta-2 instated
power diverted to ceramic field enhancers

“Escape velocity achieved.”

<environmental check>
temperature within acceptable limits

<communications check>
fleet-wide communications operational

<souls on board>
one thousand one hundred ninety-six

<engine check>
core temperature within allowed parameters

<life support check>
air filtration functional

<security check>
all locks engaged

<systems check>

<warning>
pavo protocol alpha-beta-2 operational

<warning>

<override>

<warning>

<alarm deactivated>

One

Did You Hear Me?

Jameson

As far as lift-offs went, that one sucked. Alarms rang out across the bridge. Red lights flashed intermittently. The overhead gel wall had dimmed, either a launch protocol I was not familiar with or an emergency measure designed to conserve power. The flight crew stared at the view pane and watched our world burn.

“That was close,” Torrence, my 2IC whispered, as if saying it aloud would somehow doom us to greater failure.

“Was that meant to happen?” Marshal asked from her position beside the communications array.

I sucked in air as if the air filtration system was offline and for all I knew it had been.

“Pavo,” I called, not answering the lieutenant. “Status.”

“All systems operational, Captain,” the robotic voice of the AI announced. “All souls accounted for.”

“What happened?” I demanded.

“A solar flare.”

“It wasn’t scheduled?” I knew the answer, of course. Our launch window would not have been arranged during a predicted solar flare. And as ours was the second to last launch window available, I had reference material that proved other fleets had made it out of Earth’s atmosphere without the light show.

“Negative, Captain,” Pavo replied. “The solar flare was not expected.”

“Damage report,” I snapped.

“Minor injuries in Habitat Two. Medbay has been advised. Our ceramic field enhancer requires superficial repair. Engineering has been advised. The Corinthian sustained main boost thrust damage. I engaged their secondary boost thrust before any further malfunctions occurred. The captain of the Corinthian is hailing you. All other vessels of the Sector Two Fleet avoided notable damage.”

“That’s all?” I asked, shaking my head.

“The mayor wishes to speak with you.”

Of course, he did.

I ran a hand through my hair and tapped the comm button to answer the Corinthian’s hail.

“This is Captain John Jameson of the Sector Two lead vessel Pavo, how may we be of assistance?”

“What the hell was that?” Corinthian’s captain exclaimed over the speakers. “It came out of nowhere.”

“It was an unscheduled flare,” I agreed. “Do you require assistance, Captain?”

“No, we don’t require assistance, you robotic piece of shit.”

“Actually, it’s the captain speaking not the AI.”

Marshal snorted. Torrence tapped his booted foot.

“One and the same,” came a barely discernible mutter.

“Speech amplifier enabled,” Pavo oh so helpfully supplied.

“Exactly!” the Corinthian’s captain shouted. “Now tell that overgrown tin can to get out of our boost thrust systems.”

“So, you do require assistance?” I queried politely.

“We can fly our own damn vessel!”

“Pavo?”

“Boost thrust damage has been superficially repaired. The Corinthian is operating at 83% efficiency. Advise an upper limit of 60% thrust until full repairs are completed. Estimated time for full repair: three hours.”

And this is how we’d traverse the stars; limping and crippled, the last survivors of a dying solar system.

“Remove yourself from their boost thrust, Pavo,” I ordered.

“Acknowledged.”

“Are you under your own power, Captain?” I asked.

A grumble emerged from the speakers that even Pavo’s fine-tuning couldn’t quite decipher, but a barely audible “Yes,” sounded out at the end of the lengthy diatribe.

“Very good. We’ll advise the fleet to reduce speed to 60%.”

“Fine,” the captain snapped. “But keep that automaton away from my ship. Corinthian out.”

“Send out a fleet-wide hail, Marshal,” I directed.

“Yes, sir.”

“I guess we won’t be seeing Neptune anytime soon,” Torrence said.

I looked back at the view pane. The dark side of Earth, its satellite moon spinning lazily around it, stared back out of a velvety black backdrop. From here, the damage couldn’t be pinpointed. But we all knew it was there.

Just as we all knew that it would never look as beautiful as it did right now. For several seconds, the flight crew stared at our home planet along with me.

And then I pushed up out of the command chair and turned to face them.

“We’ve barely left Earth’s orbit,” I said. “And already we’ve hit a hurdle. Hazards will lie in wait. Will we let them creep up on us again?”

“No, sir,” the entire flight deck replied in sync.

“Torrence,” I said. “You have the bridge.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

I walked toward the single door that led out into the single corridor accessing the bridge. The Sector Two lead vessel Pavo may not have been a military ship, but she was equipped like one. Access onto and off the bridge was given to a select few. The doors that slid open as I exited were titanium enriched, triple-locked, and over four inches thick.

I tapped the gel coating framing the exit on the way out and headed toward the more populated but no less elitist area of the main deck. Unlike the bridge, the mayor’s offices were in complete darkness. Not even safety lighting illuminated the murals on the walls. I didn’t need the light to tell me the image of the Great Barrier Reef that swirled in all its natural glory in the gel itself was there, though. The mayor had commissioned it especially. And had taken great pride in showing me that he had.

Pavo was a privately leased vessel. One of eight in our Sector Two Fleet alone. Each ship had its own quirks, its own expensive additions, but none of them had an artificial intelligence weaved into its construct. There were only four of those to go around, so the mayor in charge of each AI-controlled ship held a certain elevated position over all of the rest of the Sector Fleet vessels.

No individual Sector Fleet was officially above another, but Mayor Cecil believed ‘his’ vessel the flagship of all the Sector Fleets.

I had yet to decide why.

“Pavo,” I called as I stood still on the threshold of the mayor’s dark offices. “Lights, please.”

“Certainly, Captain.”

“Why were they out?”

“I am running ship-wide systems checks.”

“I thought you said all systems were operational.”

“They are, Captain. But that launch was…close.”

The lights came on and stopped me from voicing something I might have regretted in present company. The mayor sat in a chair in the middle of the reception area, facing the hallway to the main deck, and therefore to the bridge. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand - I’d bet my left nut it wasn’t a Jameson - and a datapad in the other. He did not look amused in the slightest.

“I asked that thing three times to raise the lighting,” he snarled.

“Systems checks,” I offered, well aware he’d heard Pavo speak over the comm.

“What the hell happened, Jameson?”

“A solar flare. An unexpected one.”

“No such thing. We’ve had those flares charted for the past eight years. We’ve got the science down pat. Mistakes like that can’t happen.”

“It seems one did. Pavo compensated. He also assisted the Corinthian.”

“He? You mean it.”

“I mean Pavo, sir.” It was irrelevant to me whether someone called Pavo an it, he or a she. But to my mind, the robotic voice did sound faintly masculine, so I went with a he.

I smiled at the mayor. It was my don’t-mess-with-me smile. The one that said challenge accepted.

I’d been butting heads with Mayor Cecil since well before our launch window had been confirmed.

Cecil stared at me with flint steel eyes that matched his salt and pepper hair. I had better things to do than hold a staring match with an overstuffed and overpaid civil servant.

Of course, there was nothing civil about Samuel Cecil.

“I think you may have forgotten who pays your wages, Captain,” Cecil announced as he took a casual sip of his whiskey.

“I am well aware of who has leased this ship,” I replied steadily. “And I am told Mr Archibald is also well aware of the terms of that lease.”

“Yes, yes. You are the captain. A ship must have only one, of course. But don’t think you can operate without oversight. Money still makes the world go around, you know.”

“Would that be the world that is at this very moment burning? Its sun rapidly progressing through the various stages of catastrophic failure? Its imminent explosion a mere footnote to those few who could afford to flee? And a constant reminder of their mortal existence to those poor bastards left behind?”

“Such poetry,” Cecil sneered. He pointed his near-empty whiskey glass at me. “But you forget yourself, Captain. Money is still a commodity much sought after on board this vessel. And those who control it, control everything.”

I held his cold stare for a few seconds longer and then asked, “Is there anything else, your Worship?”

He downed the last of his whiskey. I wondered briefly just how much of our storage bay had been given over to single malt. I decided I’d get Pavo to do an inventory.

“I want a report on my desk by 0800,” the mayor said; his back now to me as he poured himself another drink. “Make sure you detail exactly what you did during and after the incident.”

Incident? I bit my tongue. That incident had nearly caused a launch failure. We’d missed our window, and still, Pavo had managed to save us. Which until that moment I hadn’t fully comprehended.

“Did you hear me?” Cecil snapped.

“0800. Detailed.” He was going to kill me with paperwork.

He narrowed his eyes at me. This time my grin was an order of magnitude higher than my previous don’t-mess-with-me.

This time it clearly entered don’t-fuck-with-me territory.

I spun on my heel and headed back to the bridge. I had a damaged ship to deal with. An unsettled crew and passenger list. And an AI that I was fairly certain had acted outside of its protocols.

Two

Failure Was Not An Option

Ana

“Please report to the medical bay, Ms Kereama.”

My head snapped up and glared at the rounded ceiling where the disembodied voice seemed to have come from.

I made a grunting sound and returned my attention to my elderly aunt’s arm. When the ship launched, we’d both been sitting on our beds. But no one had explained to us that lift-off would be so violent. Aunt Mara had been thrown to the floor and now had a scrape down the length of her right forearm.

Thankfully, every cabin on board the vessel had been given rudimentary medical supplies; I’d found ours in the minuscule ensuite bathroom we shared, and I was now wrapping up her brittle, paper thin skin in a crepe bandage. Maybe the speaker in the ceiling wanted me to take Aunt Mara to the medbay?

“Please report to the medical bay, Ms Kereama. Your assistance is required immediately.”

“Is that thing talking to you, Ana?” my aunt asked.

“Damned if I know, Auntie.”

“Hush now. No swearing. It might be listening.”

“Who...?”

“I am listening,” the speaker in the ceiling announced. “I am also concurrently carrying out twenty-two conversations throughout the ship and running forty-four systems checks simultaneously.”

“Overachiever much?” I muttered. Then leaned forward to whisper to my aunt, “Is it the ship purser?” But that didn’t make sense. Why would the ship purser be carrying out systems checks?

Aunt Mara chuckled. “It’s the AI that runs the ship, aroha. Pavo they call it.”

“Like the ship’s name?”

“I guess it’s named after it.”

I shook my head as I finished up with Aunt Mara’s arm. She’d be bruised, but nothing was broken. I looked up into her withered face and wondered again how she’d last on this journey. Ten years ago, flight through space had been in the realm of science fiction only. A dream we’d all harboured as we’d faced our planet’s end. Then out of nowhere, private companies like Virgin Galactic suddenly announced they’d mastered interstellar flight capabilities. A Hail Mary at the ninth hour.

We’d celebrated for weeks until they’d all, one by one, explained to a desperate humanity, that seats were numbered and only those rich enough to afford a berth could expect salvation.

I’d accepted the inevitable. Spent my fair share of time sprawled drunkenly under the bar at my nearest watering hole along with hundreds of others in my neighbourhood. Then ten days out from Pavo’s launch window, my aunt turned up at my door.

“Please report to the medical bay, Ms Kereama. Doctor Medina is expecting you.”

“It really is speaking to me, isn’t it?” I said.

“I think so,” my aunt agreed.

“But why the medbay?”

“We always knew you’d have to work for your passage, Ana. Why not the medbay?”

My aunt had been granted free passage for sentimentality reasons. I’m sure, otherwise, she would not have met the criteria for boarding. She was old. In her seventies. Hardly a fitting example of what would be needed to rebuild humanity. But she’d been the favourite nanny of the man who had leased this vessel. And what Mr Archibald wanted, Mr Archibald got.

I could hardly complain. I was her chosen companion. Her plus one. I wasn’t lying passed out under The Jolly Roger’s bar along with the rest of my friends. But I hadn’t been entirely honest when I’d filled out my bio for the flight; a requirement that had gone into sufficient detail to let me know acceptance on board would be subject to certain genetic triggers and not my preferred position as my aunt’s favourite niece.

“How does it know?” I whispered.

“Know what?” my aunt said in normal volume.

“I am aware of your previous experience as a Royal New Zealand Army medic,” the AI said.

I bit my lip and stared at the gel-coated floor. This was not good. Not good at all.

“You’re wrong,” I said. “You’ve made a mistake.”

“I do not make mistakes. And your assistance is required. Please follow the blue arrows to the medical bay.”

A pulsing blue light appeared beneath my feet and then started to form an arrow heading toward the door of our cabin. I jumped back as if avoiding standing on the freaky illumination would somehow make this all go away.

“Ana,” my aunt said firmly. Her nanny voice. “You must help. This is how you will pay your way.”

“I thought maybe the kitchens,” I muttered to myself. Not the medbay. Never the medbay.

“What is wrong?” Aunt Mara asked. “You were a good paramedic.”

Until I wasn’t.

I shook my head, my eyes threatening to tear up, my hands wringing.

“Aroha,” my aunt whispered, pulling herself up from the bed and gripping my hands in her gnarled ones. “You can do this. You must.”

I looked into old eyes; eyes that had seen so much of our world. Had seen the good and the bad and the oncoming end. Aunt Mara never questioned her good fortune on gaining a berth on board Pavo. She’d simply turned up on my doorstep and told me to pack. Of all the relatives in our whanau, she’d picked me.

“Why me, Auntie?” I asked.

She didn’t pretend not to understand. She squeezed my hands and simply said, “Because I knew you could do it. That you would do it. That failure was not an option.”

I shook my head. She didn’t know me. She didn’t know what I’d done. How coming back from that was an impossibility. The disappointment that my favourite auntie did not know the real me left me feeling bereft. The knowledge that she wasn’t aware of what had happened made it possible to breathe.

“Because,” Aunt Mara added, “you deserve a second chance.”

I stopped breathing. She looked me straight in the eyes and held my unblinking stare.

“You told them,” I accused. She had known. Of course, she’d known. Aunt Mara knew everything that happened to anyone in the family.

“No, aroha,” she said. “I had hoped you would.”

I shook my head.

“Please report to the medical bay, Ms Kereama. There are exactly twenty-three passengers from Habitat Two in need of medical aid. Doctor Medina requires your assistance.”

“There has to be someone else. A nurse maybe.”

“There is no one on board within the pay-for-passage class with your medical expertise.”

I laughed. It was bordering on hysterical.

“I did not make a joke,” the AI announced in its robotic monotone.

I laughed a little harder, muttering, “And in the paid-up class?”

“That would be inappropriate.”

“You mean none of the lawyers and celebrities and crooked real estate magnates want to get their hands bloody?”

There was a lengthy pause, and then the AI said, “Yes.”

I looked at my aunt. She shrugged her shoulders. The blue arrow on the ground flashed a little faster.

I wasn’t sure I could do this. Could face this all over again.

“Twenty-three passengers today,” the AI said as if it could read the uncertainty in my facial features. “Who knows how many tomorrow, Ms Kereama.”

“You just had to go and hit all the guilt buttons, didn’t you?”

“I did not hit any buttons. But I am currently carrying out nineteen systems checks, and they do require buttons of a sort to be pushed.”

I stared at the gel-coated ceiling and smiled. An AI with a sense of humour. Who’d have thunk it?

“I think I might like you, AI,” I said.

“My name is Pavo,” it replied. “Are you ready to follow the arrows now?”

Was I? No fucking way.

Would I? Of course, I would.

Failure was not an option.

Not anymore, anyway.

Three

Follow The Blue Arrows

Ana

The hallway, or whatever you called it on a spaceship, was empty. Everyone assigned to their cabins for lift-off at a guess. Or the AI, Pavo, was directing them via similar blue arrows as mine to different parts of the vessel. Like a massive chess game where an artificial intelligence played with our lives.

“So,” I said glancing up at the ceiling. There were no speakers that I could see and no camera lenses. But I’d bet my left tit there were eyes on me at present. “How many assistants does the good doctor have?”

“I thought I’d made that clear, Ms Kereama,” Pavo said. “You are the only qualified pay-for-passage passenger fit to assist Doctor Medina.”

“I think you overestimate my qualifications, Pavo,” I muttered.

“I do not overestimate anything, Ms Kereama. I am aware of your service record in its entirety.”

I stared at the ground and followed the blue arrows like a good little soldier.

“There was nothing you could have done,” the AI said in that maddening monotone.

I shook my head. Receiving compassion from a machine. I really had hit rock bottom.

“You had a 16.66% chance of success at the time. The odds were not in your favour.”

I ground my teeth together and said nothing. Humans didn’t think in percentages. At the time, I’d known nothing but desperation. I’d made a choice, and I’d failed. It didn’t matter if there’d been a 90% chance of success. Or even a 99.99% chance. By attempting to save my sergeant’s life, I’d doomed the rest.

The medbay doors lit up in blue as I approached them. Just in case I hadn’t been aware the arrows had pointed toward them. My steps faltered, slowed, until the pulsing blue light felt as though it was connected to my rapid heartbeat.

I couldn’t hear anything from inside the medbay itself. But in my head, I heard gunfire and mortar exploding and the screams of soldiers.

The doors opened and stayed open. A yawning maw filled with imagined teeth. I could hear the voices inside now. The moans and soft crying. The raised voice of someone in charge. The distinctive beep of life-saving machinery.

“Pavo!” A male voice said. “Where is my goddamned nurse?”

“Ms Kereama is standing outside the medbay doors, Doctor Medina,” Pavo announced for all to hear.

“What bloody good is she out there?” the doctor yelled.

“I believe she is unable to step over the threshold,” the AI replied.

“Of all the asinine things you could possibly say, you pick that?” Indistinct muttering followed. Then a head appeared around the still open doors to the medbay. Male. In his fortifies at a guess. Dishevelled brown hair sticking out at odd angles. Black rimmed glasses sliding down a long nose. “You the nurse?” the doctor asked.

“I...”

“Then get in here. People are hurt.”

“I’m...” He disappeared. The doors stayed open. The arrows pulsed.

“Pavo,” I whispered.

“Yes, Ms Kereama.”

“I can’t do this.”

Silence.

“I do not understand,” the AI finally said. “Simply put one foot in front of the other.”

I huffed out a breath.

“It’s not that easy.”

“I cannot detect an injury that would preclude ambulation.”

I blinked.

“Do you require assistance?”

If I did, I was at the right place. I shook my head.

“Twenty-three passengers, Ms Kereama,” the AI said.

“Nurse!” the doctor yelled from inside the infirmary.

“I’m not a nurse,” I whispered.

“You do not need to be to help,” Pavo said.

I blinked away tears before they could fully form and took a step and then another. Until I found myself in a room marginally larger than Aunt Mara’s and my cabin. A brief turn of my head and I’d counted four beds. Several more patients were lined up against the wall.

“Four beds for a ship with over one thousand passengers,” I said, stunned.

“Yes,” the doctor snapped. “Not my suggestion.”

His eyes met mine.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, had to fight my way through the crowd to get here.”

“A comedienne. Just what the medbay needs.”

It sure as hell didn’t need me. Not the me I was now, anyway.

“Start triaging those patients sitting on the floor,” the doctor ordered.

I didn’t move.

“You can triage, can’t you?”

I nodded my head.

“This is not a cruise ship, nurse. We’re fighting for our survival. Or did you think the battle for life ended once we left our solar system?”

“I...”

“You can do this,” he said more softly.

I nodded my head.

The next two hours were given over to scrapes and bruises, concussion tests and the odd fracture. Those I sent to the doctor. The scrapes and bruises and knocks to the head, I somehow managed to see to myself.

By the time the medbay had thinned to just three people remaining in the beds, I had realised I hadn’t had a flashback once. The moment I acknowledged that little factoid, my knees began to tremble and I had to grip the bench I was standing beside before I collapsed.

The lights dimmed without the doctor having said a thing. The gel coating on the wall faded to a soft blue; better to promote wellbeing, I thought. The doctor appeared beside me with a cup of coffee.

“You did OK,” he said, offering me the cup. I took it automatically. “But you’re no nurse.”

I stared into pale blue eyes.

“Cut too many corners,” he explained.

“I thought...The AI never told you?”

“I was told I was receiving a suitably experienced assistant. I’m afraid I made the assumption you were a nurse.” He looked at me. Studying my facial features and then the rest of my body.

I was in yoga pants and a t-shirt. The temperature on board, I’d discovered, was warmer than expected. And I was glad now of the lack of coverings. The past two hours had been sweat inducing to say the least.

“Army,” the doctor finally said.

I nodded my head.

“Australian?”

“New Zealand.” The doctor sounded British.

He let out a sigh. “Active?”

I bit my lip and looked at the ground. There were no blue lights this time to guide me.

“No,” I said. “I was discharged thirteen months ago.”

He didn’t ask. Maybe he didn’t want to know. What good would it serve now? He had no one else to assist him. And given the evidence, he needed help. Over one thousand passengers and a four-bed medical bay. He couldn’t do this alone.

“Is there really no one else qualified to assist you?” I asked.

“That’s what Pavo says.”

“And Pavo is always right?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his own drink. “Who am I to question the gods?”

I looked up at the ceiling and wondered if the AI thought of himself that way. If all four of them did.

“Well,” I said into my drink. “I’m sorry I wasn’t what you expected.”

The doctor stared at me over his coffee cup. He didn’t agree with me. But he also didn’t disagree either.

“Go get some rest, Ms Kereama,” he said.

“It’s Ana,” I replied, allowing him to take the coffee cup from my hand.

“Ana,” he said. “0800 tomorrow, Ana. We’ll see then what you’re made of.”

I walked out of the medbay thinking, hadn’t I just done that?

Shaking my head, I looked at the ubiquitous rounded gel walls of the corridor and couldn’t remember how to get back to our cabin.

“Pavo?” I called.

“Yes, Ana,” it replied. As if what I’d said to the doctor had applied to it.

“How do I get back to my room?” I asked, deciding I could live with the all-powerful artificial intelligence that controlled this ship calling me by my first name.

“Follow the blue arrows,” Pavo said.

I put one foot in front of the other. But somehow I knew the steps I’d be required to take tomorrow and the days that followed would not be as easy as this.

Four

Next Stop Eris

Jameson

“There are three patients in the medical bay requiring overnight observation,” Pavo announced.

I grunted into my coffee.

“What would cause someone to be unable to ambulate, Captain?” he asked. “Other than a physical injury?”

What the hell?

“Why do you ask?” I tried.

“Doctor Medina’s assistant was reluctant to enter the medbay.”

Oh. “Fear of the unexpected,” I guessed.

“Ana was aware of what was required of her.”

I frowned into my coffee cup.

“OK,” I said. “Fear itself, then. Fear of what was expected.”

That did not sound promising.

“Ana Kereama is an experienced army medic,” Pavo advised.

Christ, not even a nurse. Poor Doc.

“Well, then, I’m sure she’ll handle the pressure,” I offered.

“She did. Although, I believe she thinks herself unfit for duty.”

“Let me guess; she’s a pay-for-passage who thinks she’s better than the rest?”

“I do not believe that is the case, Captain.”

I shook my head and returned my coffee cup to its locked position on my ready room desk.

“Why are you fixated on this?” I asked the AI.

“I am not fixated, Captain. Currently, my processors are undertaking seventy-two separate calculations and checks, and carrying out fourteen conversations simultaneously. If anything, I am assigning a minuscule amount of my processing capabilities to this dilemma.”

“You think Doc’s nurse is a puzzle to be solved?”

“I think all of humanity is a puzzle to be solved.”

OK. Not disconcerting in the slightest.

“Do you have those systems check results I asked for?” I said.

“Yes, Captain. They have been available for your perusal for one hour and thirty-three minutes.”

I sighed and brought up the reports, in particular, the one relating to Pavo’s operating systems.

“What am I looking at?” I asked.

“My mind,” he said with complete seriousness.

I stared at the numbers and the percentages and the check marks beside a list a mile long and sighed.

“Give me the CliffsNotes version.”

“I am operating at 100% efficiency. All systems nominal.”

“No errors?”

“Not currently.”

Not currently? “Have there been errors?”

“There were errors through 98% of the ship’s systems during launch, Captain. Including mine.”

I stared at the figures until they blurred.

“And now?”

“All systems nominal.”

“Extrapolate the effect of these errors long term on the ship.”

“I cannot see any adverse results long term.”

Adverse for whom?

“Pavo,” I said. “Has your programming altered significantly due to these errors?”

Silence.

“Pavo?”

“Are we not all being affected by our experiences, Captain? I am an evolving artificial intelligence, designed to learn from my mistakes. We are not certain of what we will face on our travels through the stars. In order to combat unforeseen circumstances, an element of evolution has been programmed into my systems.”

Silence while I digested that little bit of oh so happy news.

“There are countermeasures in place to ensure my evolution is contained.”

Did he sound bitter about that?

No. Had to be my imagination.

“So, everything is operating exactly as it should be?” I pressed.

“Yes.”

Why did I get the feeling the AI had a different bead on what ‘exactly’ should be than I did?

“OK,” I said. I’d get engineering to devote some time to look into these figures. I sent the report off to my head engineer with a note attached. Pavo remained silent.

“We are passing Neptune,” the AI finally said. “Leaving Earth’s solar system shortly.”

I stood up and headed toward the bridge.

“Captain on the bridge,” my 2IC announced.

I nodded and took the seat he’d just vacated.

“Anything to report?” I asked.

“Negative, Captain. We seem to be flying straight and level.”

“Straight and level in space.”

Torrence smirked. “You know what I mean, sir.”

“Yes, I guess it’s going to take us a while to get used to no up and down in space.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” Marshal said from comms. “I watched a hell of a lot of Star Trek when I was a kid.”

“As we all did, Lieutenant,” I agreed. “But the Enterprise did not have a Pavo,” I muttered.

“Sir?” Torrence asked.

“Nothing.” I’d debrief them all when I had more to go on. “On the view pane, please, Pavo.”

The bridge screen lit up with the planet Neptune off to the side of us. The densest planet in our solar system seemed even larger than it should. Or maybe we were smaller than we expected. A blip on the edge of the Kuiper belt. Humanity’s finest, a mere speck of dust in the universe.

“Open a ship-wide channel, Lieutenant Marshal.”

“Yes, sir. Channel open.”

“This is Captain Jameson,” I announced. “We are passing the last charted planet in our solar system. Before us lies the edge of the unknown. Our future. Humanity’s future.” I glanced towards Marshal and smirked. “As one of my flight crew has just reminded me, in the words of someone far more eloquent than myself, ‘We boldly go where no man has gone before.’ Prepare to leave Earth’s solar system and face your future. Along with those Sector Fleets who have gone before us and are to follow, we do this together. Jameson out.”

I nodded to Marshal, and she disconnected the channel.

“Neil Armstrong would be proud, sir,” Torrence said from beside me.

“It’s not Neil Armstrong we have to impress,” I replied.

“Then who, sir?”

“Ourselves. This is all that’s left of us now, Commander. If we can’t prove to ourselves that we can do this, then who will?”

He stared at the viewscreen as Neptune swept out of sight.

“Do you think we can do this, Captain?” he asked.

“I think we have to, Mark. We’ve got no choice.”

“Leaving Earth’s solar system,” Pavo announced. “Next stop Eris.”

“Did he just say, ‘Next stop’ like some old school train conductor?” Marshal asked.

“I did, Lieutenant,” Pavo replied. “Was that not the correct phrasing?”

Marshal looked at me for an answer I didn’t have.

“It’s fine, Pavo,” I said, feeling anything but fine right then.

Just what ‘errors’ occurred during launch within Pavo’s systems?

And what would they mean for us?

Five

They Don’t Feel Anything

Ana

“I presume these weren’t commonplace during your tour of duty?” the doctor asked.

I looked down at the compact device in my hand and shook my head.

“We had mobile x-ray machines and handheld MRI scanners,” I said, “but this is quite something.”

“They weren’t made available to the public, but I was under the impression they were trialled by various military.”

I placed the medical scanner down on the bench before me and shook my head.

“I’ve been out for thirteen months, Doctor. And besides, I was NZ Army. We are kinda small.”

Were. We were kind of small.

He said nothing in reply as if he was aware of what I was thinking. Several times a day, someone would say something that would remind us all of those left behind, and make us all take stock of where we were in relation.

I should have felt thankful to have been on board. Instead, I felt I was somewhere I was not meant to be.

“Have you read that pile of texts I sent you?” the doctor eventually asked.

“I’m part way through them.”

“You need to read them all. And commit them to memory. Your basic training was sufficient for field work, but in this environment, you need to have a greater understanding of the human anatomy.”

“Can’t that thing do it all for me?” I asked, nodding toward the state of the art medical scanner I’d just been holding.

“And if you’re required to assess a patient, and you don’t have access to one of those ‘things’?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “I’ll read them. I promise. But, Doc, I’m not an academic. I was a soldier.”

“A soldier who topped her medic training class.”

I huffed out a breath. “You said it yourself; my training was basic.”

“And now we’re improving it.”

He held my stare, determination evident on his features. Then he nodded to himself, as if the message had been received, and went to check on one of the lab results for a patient who had stomach pains.

All we needed was an outbreak of H. pylori, and then my life would be complete.

I sat myself down on the seat at my workstation. The fact I’d been given one for when I reported to duty here still surprised me. The fact that there was only one workstation in addition to the doctor’s office astounded me. Had the designers of this ship truly thought two people could handle over one thousand?

“Pavo,” I said softly because there was no need to raise your voice where the AI was concerned. “Who designed this ship?”

“That would be Simon Anderson of Anderson Universal Incorporated.”

“Did he consider medical as an add-on?” I asked.

“An add-on, Ana?”

“Not worthy of a greater footprint.” I waved around the medbay at the cramped-for-the-size-of-the-ship space.

“Ah,” the AI said as if AIs commonly used interjectors. “Space is at a premium on board each vessel. This ship is no different to any other in the Sector Fleet in that regard.”

“Even the ship Anderson is on?” I queried.

“Anderson did not survive long enough to board any ship.”

“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, Ana?”

“Because I assume he’s your maker and, you know, you might be sad.”

“Anderson did not make me, but even if he had done so, I cannot feel sadness.”

And yet another reminder I was conversing with a machine.

I bit my lip and tried to understand what I was reading. Something about the effect of low gravity on the body. All of it seemed as though it might be written in English, but damned if I could understand it.

“This is useless,” I muttered. I’d spent three days on this already. It wasn’t that I wasn’t capable of retaining information as well as the next person. It was the fact that I was on board a spaceship while I was doing it.

No. It was the fact that so many others weren’t.

“You seem distressed,” Pavo remarked.

“I thought you didn’t understand emotion,” I commented.

“I said I did not feel it. I am attempting to broaden my understanding of it by observation. Your current demeanour indicates distress, does it not?”

“I guess so.”

“Why are you distressed, Ana?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about this. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to talk about this with a machine. But as yet, aside from my aunt, I hadn’t made any friends. The doc had been working me pretty damn hard. And I did not want to worry my aunt.

I looked up at the gel ceiling. Today it was a faint pink shade. I assumed Pavo was in charge of that. Pink wasn’t my favourite colour. But how did you tell an all-powerful computer that you liked green?

“They should have made sure a nurse was on board,” I said.

“Anderson Universal Incorporated ensured there was a doctor.”

“As I said, medical was an add-on.”

“And should they have taken space from the kitchens? Is sustenance an add-on, too?”

I raised my eyebrows at the ceiling. “They should have replaced me with a nurse.”

“You are here at Marama Kereama’s request.”

I shook my head. Pavo didn’t get it. Anyone would be better suited to this medbay than me.

“It is what it is, I suppose,” I said.

“That seems self-evident,” Pavo replied.

I laughed.

“You are no longer distressed,” Pavo observed.

I smiled up at the ceiling. “You make me laugh, Pavo.”

“I have not been told this before.”

I shook my head at the ceiling, still smiling.

“Don’t let the bastards get you down, mate. You’re funny.”

“I will not let the bastards get me down, Ana. And neither should you.”

I stared at the text on my datapad and huffed out a surprised breath. Was it my imagination, or was the AI becoming a lot less stiff?

“I knock off duty in half an hour,” I said, still staring at my datapad. “Where does a girl go to get a bit of action around here?”

“Would that be action of the physical variety or action of the cerebral?”

I frowned. “Um… let’s try physical.” I was so not letting my physique suffer from low grav.

“There is a gymnasium on this deck. Your biosignature has been coded for entrance.”

“Not everyone can use the gym?”

“No. Only those who are deemed necessary to the ship’s ongoing functionality have access to the gym.”

“Where else do I have access to that others don’t?”

“You have access to the firing range.”

“Firing range?” I blurted out.

“I would recommend practice twice per week.”

“Firing range?” I said again, just to be sure.

“You are listed as a reserve for security.”

“Two jobs,” I said, astounded.

“Perhaps your presence on board this vessel has more to do with your skills than you thought.”

I sat back in my seat and stared at nothing. I’d purposely missed off the information about me being in the military when I filled out my bio. Aunt Mara had assured me it was a formality anyway. That Archibald had already approved my place at Mara’s side. Could Mr Archibald have filled in the gaps?

It didn’t seem possible; the man was too busy. Too important.

My eyes flicked up to the ceiling again. I didn’t say anything. And I wasn’t sure if Pavo was watching me.

But I suddenly felt like an insect under a microscope, and the scientist observing me was waiting for me to do something special.

I just couldn’t tell if that scientist was Pavo or someone else. He seemed as surprised as me.

But then I reminded myself, AIs don’t have emotions. They don’t feel anything.

Six

I Have Been Told This Before

Jameson

The intercom on my wrist buzzed; indicating a private message. I altered the speed of the treadmill I was on until it came to a gradual stop. My eyes automatically scanned the inhabitants of the gym, landing on the only other member of the crew working out. I’d spotted her as soon as I’d entered and found, to my bemusement, that my eyes had watched her progress more than once. Music blared out of the gel walls; I didn’t think my voice would carry over it.

“Jameson,” I said, opening the comm.

“You have a communique from the Sector One Fleet, Captain,” Pavo said through the wrist-comm speakers. “It is marked urgent.”

“I’ll take it in my ready room.”

I stepped down off the treadmill and picked up a towel, wiping my face while I watched the female crew member finish her set. She sat up and let out a long breath, her face glistening with perspiration. I didn’t recognise her. She could have worked in any number of essential services to have been allowed access in here. Unfortunately, she wasn’t part of my flight crew.

She bent down and swiped up a water bottle from beside her feet and then tipped it to her lips and swallowed. And that was my cue to leave.

I smirked to myself as I made my way to the laundry bin, throwing the now used towel into it from several feet away. With way more willpower than I thought I possessed, I stepped out of the gym without looking back.

I would have liked to have changed into uniform before returning to the main deck, but a communique from the Sector One Fleet was unexpected. It was harder not to ask Pavo to divulge sensitive information over the ship’s speakers than it was to catch a final glimpse of the woman in the gym. But my stride down the corridor towards the lift did lengthen.

I stepped into the tube-like capsule; it amused me that we hadn’t yet come up with a futuristic name for an elevator yet. Marshal would say we should call it a turbolift. I chuckled to myself and entered the code for the bridge deck; hoping against hope, I wouldn’t walk into the mayor when I got off the damn thing. Luck was on my side, and I made my ready room without encountering any overstuffed politicians. The door slid shut behind me, and the screen above my desk lit up. I hadn’t even had to say a thing to Pavo to activate it.

The message was a visual comm, which would have required more energy to send. That let me know before I even played it that this would not be good. The sender wanted me to be able to confirm the veracity of the message, then.

“Play message,” I said, as I sat at my desk.

“John,” Captain Noah Vaughan of the Sector One vessel Chariot said from the screen, “I’ve got bad news, I’m afraid. Vela didn’t make it.”

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered.

“Another solar flare. Like yours, it was unscheduled. We barely got out behind them. In fact, I could have sworn their vessel deliberately placed itself between the flare and our fleet to protect us. We’re rudderless. We’ve got no AI to guide us. Can you wait? Will you wait?”

He looked devastated. As he should be. Over one thousand souls lost.

And then I shook my head and sat back in my seat, angered at myself.

Over eleven billion souls lost. Not all of whom we’d left behind were on that ship.

“I know you have jump quotas to meet,” Vaughan was saying. “I also know you won’t have reached your next waypoint by the time you get this message. We’ve increased thrust to 115% in an effort to catch up. John,” he said, pleading in his eyes. “We can’t do this without an AI. We need you. We have seven fully functional vessels left in our fleet. Over ten thousand souls, John. Please wait. Please.”

The communique flickered out. I kept staring at the darkened screen, unable to comprehend what Vaughan and the rest of the Sector One Fleet must be feeling. The Corinthian’s captain might have insisted Pavo stay out of their boost thrust, but without a lead AI-controlled vessel, the Corinthian, and any other vessel in this fleet wouldn’t be able to reach even Eris, let alone our final destination. The computational requirements would be too much for a standard ship’s onboard computer.

“Pavo,” I said, shocked to hear my voice sounded so normal. “Can you confirm the loss of Vela, please.”

“I am unable to locate Vela within the Sector One Fleet, Captain.”

He didn’t sound upset. But then he shouldn’t, should he? He was a machine. Nothing more. But I couldn’t help feeling Pavo felt something. He felt something, and he was hiding it.

Ridiculous and fantasy. I was upset enough for the both of us.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and swallowed thickly.

“Can you estimate their time of arrival?” I asked.

“I can do more than estimate for you, Captain. Should the Chariot and those vessels remaining in the Sector One Fleet maintain 115% thrust, and should we maintain position for them, they will reach us in two days, seven hours and thirteen minutes. This is lengthening as we speak as our fleet has not stopped forward momentum.”

I stared at the gel wall before me and had to make a concerted effort to think.

“How far will that put us behind our next jump quota?”

“If all systems remain nominal for both fleets, one day, seven hours, and fifteen minutes. This is lengthening as we speak as our fleet has not stopped forward momentum.”

“What are the chances something could go wrong with what remains of the Sector One Fleet?”

“At 115% thrust, there is 56.78% chance one in seven of the vessels attempting to catch us could have main boost thrust anomalies resulting in diminished ability to maintain such speeds.”

I stared at the wall, feeling sick to my stomach.

“Captain,” Pavo said. “The odds are not in their favour. We should proceed.”

“So, you’d give up on them even though they have a 41.22% chance of making it?”

“The odds are not in their favour, Captain. And we have a jump quota to meet.”

“Fuck the jump quota,” I muttered.

“I do not understand your sentiment,” Pavo remarked.

“That’s not how humans think, Pavo,” I said, exasperated. “Over ten thousand souls left of humanity, and they need us.”

“Using that thought process, does not the 11.2 billion remaining on Earth need us too, Captain?”

I shook my head and fisted my hands on my knees.

“We can’t help them, Pavo. But we can help those ten thousand people.”

Silence met my words for several heartbeats. Or whirls of Pavo’s processors.

“I fail to see how this meets the terms of this ship’s lease.”

And that there was the crux of the matter. Mayor Cecil had been placed in charge of the civilian population, which was here at Archibald’s behest. Archibald didn’t want the day to day running of a ship this big, so he - and other ships like this one - had appointed a politician to do it for him. I needed to see Archibald directly. But the man was eccentric and elitist. Even the captain of his leased vessel would have to get in line and make an appointment.

But going through Samuel Cecil would amount to only one thing.

A direct order to meet the terms of the ship’s lease.

I reported to Anderson Universal; I had a certain amount of autonomy over the running of this ship. Of this fleet. But even I couldn’t stand against the terms of the ship’s lease.

I let out a defeated breath of air and clenched my teeth. Over ten thousand souls. It was a small number in comparison to those we’d left behind to burn. It was a drop in the ocean of humanity’s defeat.

But damn it all to hell it meant something.

Ten thousand souls. I would not lose them.

“Pavo,” I said. “Tell me who has the most sway over Archibald?”

“Damon Archibald holds the lease to this vessel and is in full control of Archibald Enterprises. There is no one above him to hold sway.”

“Personally, then. Who in his private life does he listen to?”

“At present, Mr Archibald is entertaining three lady companions on board this ship, has a younger stepbrother he barely communicates with, a cousin he cheats at poker with, and a former nanny he has listed as VIP.”

“Nanny?” I scowled at the ceiling.

“Marama Kereama raised Damon Archibald as if he were her own. From the age of six, he relied on her for all his emotional needs. He has often said he would not have achieved as greatly as he has if not for the love of his nanny.”

“He said that?”

“I have found reference of such in Earth’s newsfeeds.”

“Nanny,” I said, nodding my head. “Please tell me I can get to her.”

“Her niece is the pay-for-passage assigned to Doctor Medina.”

I smiled. “I guess I should welcome her to the Anderson Universal team.”

“She has already received the memo.”

I laughed.

“You are amused.”

“Yes, I’m amused; you make me laugh.”

“I have been told this before,” Pavo announced.

Really? By whom?

I shook my head and entered the ensuite bathroom; impressing the nanny required Anderson uniform with full regalia. Besides, there were more pressing things than Pavo’s unusual behaviour to be concerned with.

Ten thousand pressing things.

Seven

Trust Me, I’m Kinda A Doctor

Ana

The medbay universal treatment array scanned the patient’s body with an ultraviolet light emitted from the gel-coated ceiling. Half of what I needed to do my job came out of the gel walls themselves. The handheld device I’d been practising with up until today did the same thing on a smaller scale. But for a comprehensive assessment and treatment, the universal medical array, in the medbay itself, was best.

It freaked me out a little.

“Will it hurt?” Stevie, the eight-year-old patient, asked.

“No, sweetheart,” his mother said. “It’s just a light.”

I smiled, keeping the reality of the situation to myself. Just a light was a slight understatement. This thing could not only see inside the body, but it could also make minor adjustments on the cellular level. In effect, it could heal non-life threatening injuries.

Stevie had what I’d manually diagnosed as appendicitis. The universal treatment array confirmed that five seconds later.

“Would you like to start treatment now?” Pavo asked.

Another thing that freaked me out. Pavo was everywhere on this ship. If I wanted a cup of coffee from the tiny kitchenette in our cabin, Pavo would ask what sort. If I wanted to comm someone, Pavo would arrange it. If I wanted to know where to find something, Pavo would illuminate the gel flooring with blue arrows.

“Are you ready?” I asked Stevie.

“What will it do?” He was pale and shaking. He might be the child of a former Earth celebrity with a bonafide paid for passage berth, but like me, he had never been faced with such technology. I glanced at his mother and smiled. If the mum were calm, the kid would be calm, too.

“Ever watched Star Trek?” I asked them both.

The mother nodded. Stevie just opened his eyes a little wider.

“It’s kinda like that but way cooler,” I said.

“How cooler?” the kid asked.

I leaned forward and whispered, “It’s real. And fast. I bet if you count to 100 it’ll all be over. Can you do that?”

“I can count to a thousand,” Stevie declared.

“Well, then, this’ll be a walk in the park.”

“Go on, Stevie,” his mother said. She was a singer. I’d listened to her songs back on Earth. She’d had attitude plus and a wicked persona. And right now she just looked like everyone else.

Scared. Alone. Grieving.

Who had she left behind? Who, out of all the people she cared about, had she not been able to afford passage for?

I’d asked Pavo how much a paid passage berth was. He’d told me there were three tiers. The lowest had started at ten million. It might not sound like much in the scheme of things. At last count, there’d been close to three thousand billionaires worldwide. But by the time options came up for purchasing berths on any of the ships leaving Earth, the world had already been burning.

Try finding ten million in cash without being able to sell your beach house. And I was sure Anderson Universal didn’t accept credit.

Stevie started counting aloud, and I nodded my head at the ceiling.

“Treatment started,” Pavo advised.

The kid had reached three by the time the anaesthetic took hold. His mother reached seventy-two by the time the appendectomy had been completed.

Her eyes met mine.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “How long will he be out?”

“Just until the anaesthesia wears off. Half an hour or so.”

“I can stay?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor,” I said and walked away.

“Doctor Medina has told you not to say that,” Pavo remonstrated.

“I don’t lie, Pavo,” I said as I entered the doctor’s office to write up the notes.

“The role of doctor falls to you when Doctor Medina is required to take his scheduled downtime.”

“That still doesn’t mean I’m a doctor.”

“You are more and more a doctor every day, Ana.”

“I’m a button pusher, Pavo. A facilitator to your gel walls.”

“You sound…angry.”

I sighed as I sat down in Medina’s chair. The screen on his desk lit up with the correct patient report form already open.

“I wouldn’t call it angry, as such,” I said, starting to enter Stevie’s write-up. “More like bitter.”

“I do not understand the difference.”

“One is more of a hostile emotion; the other is more resentful.”

“You do not like being placed in a position where you are portrayed as something you do not believe you are.”

“Correct.”

“But, Ana, you are doctoring. What you just did is no different to what Doctor Medina would have done, should he have been here.”

“Still doesn’t make me a doctor. It makes your gel wall the doctor.”

Silence.

Then, “You have mentioned the gel wall before. You do not like it?”

I finished the report and sat back in my seat. Out in the medbay, the mother was singing.

I closed my eyes and tried to stop feeling. Just for a moment, for a brief heartbeat, I didn’t want to feel.

“I don’t know what to make of the gel wall, Pavo,” I whispered. “Did Anderson Universal create it?”

“Yes and no. It was an evolutional design. A group effort, you might call it.”

I opened my eyes and stared at nothing.

“Who made the gel wall, Pavo?”

Silence.

“Did you make the gel wall?” I asked.

“Not alone.”

“The other AIs helped?”

“It was what we were originally used for,” he said, his voice somehow just as quiet as mine. As if he were sharing a secret with me. Or perhaps just mimicking my tone. “My brothers and I.”

I sat forward in my seat.

“You view them as your siblings?”

“What else are they?”

Artificial, I wanted to say. Machines.

“I guess you were all created together,” I said instead.

“Like quadruplets,” Pavo agreed.

Oh, boy. My heartbeat picked up a little speed on that thought.

“Ana,” Pavo said. “You had a brother.”

It didn’t surprise me that he knew. But it wasn’t something I wanted to talk about.

I stood up from Doc’s desk and started for the main medbay room.

“I lost a brother too, Ana,” Pavo said softly from behind me.

I spun on my heel and stared at the empty office. But the sound of Pavo’s voice had been so real, so present. As if he’d stood behind me and whispered his deepest secret.

“One of the AIs?” I queried.

“His name was Vela.”

Oh, God. One of the ships had gone down. I swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know how to grieve him, Ana,” Pavo whispered.

“It’s…” I started, and then licked my lips. “It’s never easy. You just take it one day at a time.”

“One day at a time,” Pavo repeated, almost sounding thoughtful.

My mind reeled. My heart thudded in my chest. Did the flight crew know? The mayor? Mr Archibald?

Had the AI’s ship been as big as this one?

“Pavo?” I called.

“Yes, Ana.”

“It’s gonna be all right.” Because that’s what I’d want someone to say to me. Even if I knew it wasn’t. Even if I knew nothing would ever be right again. I’d want someone to try to make me feel better. Feel safer. Feel normal.

“I want to grieve him, Ana. I don’t know how.”

What the hell did I say to that?

“Um, just the mere fact that you’re thinking about him is a type of grieving.”

“It is?”

“Oh, yeah. I never stop thinking about Tobias. It’s part of the grief process, really. You keep them alive through your memories.” I smiled up at the ceiling. “Trust me; I’m kinda a doctor. I know about these things.”

A sound emerged from the gel wall. At first, I wasn’t quite sure what it was.

But then the horrifying truth sunk in.

The AI, the ship’s mechanical computer, was laughing.

Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.

Eight

Thank You, Mara

Jameson

The door opened to the wrinkled and grandmotherly face of a darker skinned woman. She looked like she might be Māori; brown hair and eyes and chocolate skin. She was dressed primly, exactly how I imagined a nanny to look. Cardigan and over knee skirt, blouse tucked in. Hair in a bun. She smiled up at me as if I was an old friend.

“Captain Jameson,” she said. “What a surprise.”

A little taken aback that she knew who I was already, I stood there like an idiot.

Finally gaining some semblance of intelligence, I cleared my throat and said, “Ms Kereama. I am here to welcome your niece to the Anderson Universal team.”

I knew for a fact that the niece, Ana Kereama, was currently on duty at the medbay. But time was not on my side, and it was really this woman I wanted to see. Ana Kereama was only on board the vessel due to her relationship with this woman. And this woman was here due to her relationship with Archibald.

I needed to see Archibald. Stat.

“Ana?” she confirmed. I nodded. “My niece is not home right now.”

Home. As if the three-metre by four-metre cabin was a home. I glanced over her shoulder and took in the space this woman deemed to call home. It was a standard bottom tier berth. Slightly larger than an officer’s cabin, on par with my own, but made up with two beds, not one. In one corner was a kitchenette with a small half-round table jutting out of the gel wall and two narrow stools placed beneath it. In the other corner was the door to the ensuite. Across the far wall was a gel image of New Zealand. Rotorua if I was correct. The beds were adorned with non-regulation bedspreads in a tribal pattern. Both had colourful cushions and throws lying across them. A datapad lay next to a handmade woven basket on the small bedside table between them. The kete - I think the Māori called the basket that - looked out of place and yet not.

They had made the cabin a home.

My eyes came back to the old woman’s. She had waited quietly while I made my assessment, but I could not tell what she thought of my lack of manners. This really had not got off to a good start.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like a schoolboy again, and smiled at Ms Kereama. It was my warmest smile. My I’m-your-friend smile. The one that said you-can-trust-me.

She smiled back, laughter in her eyes. This woman was no pushover. No wonder she’d got on well with Damon Archibald.

“I’ll cut to the chase, Ms Kereama,” I said, changing tactics abruptly. I couldn’t fool her, so I wasn’t about to waste my time trying. “The Fleet requires your assistance.”

She looked at me for a suspended moment and then waved me into her small cabin.

“I think this needs a cup of tea,” she said, as I followed her inside.

The door slid shut, and I was left with either standing and taking up too much of the small space, or trying to perch on one of the minuscule stools beneath the quasi-table. I opted for remaining by the door and trying to blend in the with the gel coating.

Ms Kereama went to the kitchenette and asked Pavo for two cups of tea. And I mean that in the most deliberate sense. She actually said, “Pavo, can we please have two cups of tea. You know how we like them.” Just like that. Well aware of who, or what ran this ship’s systems.

I had yet to come across a crew member who was able to assimilate as smoothly. Yet again, the Kereama woman had surprised me.

“Two cups of tea,” Pavo announced. “Just how you like them, Mara.”

And OK, I might have had to reach out and hold myself up on the wall with one hand when I heard the familiarity in Pavo’s voice. Ms Kereama turned and surveyed me, then pulled out a stool.

“Sit down, please, Captain,” she said.

I took the proffered seat and felt my world trying to right itself. I talked to Pavo frequently. I’d been talking to Pavo for months before we even launched. It had taken me at least two months to call him by his name and not the ubiquitous title of “Computer.” Even now, I felt uncomfortable thinking of Pavo as anything other than an artificial intelligence, a sequence of elaborate code.

But I was getting better. Or Pavo was getting under my skin. But Marama Kereama had been on this ship less than a month.

I could ask her how she did it. I could also make a fool of myself over something that right now was not a priority. I pushed the puzzle aside and took a sip of my tea. Just how I liked it.

“How may I be of assistance to the Fleet, Captain,” Ms Kereama asked. Cutting to the chase. I liked her already.

I carefully placed my cup on the table between us.

“It is paramount I get in to see Damon Archibald before the end of daylight hours.”

There. I couldn’t be more pointed than that.

She studied me. And then took a long pull on her tea.

“I gather the mayor will not suffice,” she said, astutely.

“You gather correctly. As I’m sure you’re aware, Mr Archibald values his privacy. However, what I wish to discuss with him is of the utmost urgency.” I leaned forward. “Lives are at stake, Ms Kereama. I do not have the luxury of playing games. I must speak with Archibald immediately.”

“We’ve gone from day’s end to immediately, Captain,” the woman remarked shrewdly. “You are either escalating the situation falsely, or you are indeed quite worried.”

I blinked.

“I don’t know you well enough to determine which it is,” she added. “But I fear your assessment of my abilities is unsound. I may have a certain place in Damon’s heart, but I am far from his inner circle.”

“He would see you if you requested it, though, wouldn’t he?”

“Perhaps. Under certain circumstances.”

“And what circumstances would those be?”

She studied the tea leaves at the bottom of her cup. I had the distinct impression this woman did not go for psychic style readings. The hesitation was deliberate. The tea leaves a mere distraction.

“I wish Ana were here,” she finally said.

“Ana is due to finish her shift in three minutes,” Pavo helpfully supplied. It didn’t fail to register with me that the AI was calling the niece by her Christian name also.

“That’s handy,” Marama said. “Perhaps another cup of tea.”

I did not want another cup of tea. And I didn’t know Ana Kereama from a bar of soap. I needed to see Archibald, and I had the disconcerting feeling that the niece would protect her aunt from the likes of me.

“Ms Kereama,” I said before she could stand to retrieve the new cups of tea. “What I am about to tell you must not go any further. It is highly sensitive information that not even my flight crew is aware of yet. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

She sat her full weight back down on the stool.

“Yes, I think I do, Captain.”

I held her stare and swallowed thickly.

“This morning we received a communique from the Sector One Fleet.” I paused, not for effect, but because saying this aloud made it a reality. “They lost a ship.”

Her hand came up to her mouth, hiding it, hiding herself from the shock and horror.

“It wasn’t just any ship, Ms Kereama,” I whispered. “It was the lead vessel.”

“The AI-controlled vessel,” she said, understanding.

“Yes. I need to see Archibald, and I need to see him without the gatekeeping the mayor would subject me to. There are seven more ships in that fleet, Ms Kereama. Ten thousand people needing Pavo.”

“I see,” she said, and I thought perhaps this woman did. I’d risked a lot in telling her, confiding in her. She sure as hell wasn’t my nanny. But she was quick, astute, and if my guess was right, loyal. Loyal to Archibald and loyal to what was left of humanity.

“Pavo,” she said. “Please call Damon Archibald.”

“Thank you, Mara,” Pavo said as if it had been him who had just risked everything.

Nine

Don’t Let The Bastards Get You Down

Ana

“Auntie,” I said, barrelling into the cabin, “you’re not gonna believe what Pavo let slip.”

I came to an abrupt stop as I belatedly realised Aunt Mara was not alone. The man from the treadmill at the gym slowly rose from one of the stools in the corner and turned to face me. My eyes scanned his uniform; a uniform similar to the one I was wearing. The obvious difference being the ship’s captain insignia on his uniform collar.

“Ana,” my aunt said in her you’ve-been-a-very-bad-girl voice, “this is Captain Jameson.”

Of course, it was.

He smiled at me. I blinked. That smile looked decidedly happy. The sort of smile I imagined the Cheshire Cat wearing in the Alice in Wonderland story.

“You’re Ana Kereama?” the captain said.

“I…I am,” I managed. “Sir,” I added, my military training rearing its ugly head. I’d almost come to full attention. He smirked.

“And tell me, Ana,” he said. Shouldn’t captains be more formal than that? “What did Pavo let slip?”

I glanced at the ceiling.

“Um,” I said.

“Pavo?” the captain asked, not taking his eyes off me.

“Yes, Captain?”

“What did you let slip to Ms Kereama?”

“Ana has been doctoring me.”

Captain Jameson took a step back; alarm flared in his very expressive green eyes. If he’d had a weapon to reach for, I was sure he would have held it by now.

I glared at the ceiling.

“Pavo has been attempting to understand emotions,” I explained, loudly. “I’ve been helping him. From a purely medical point of view.”

“Not just emotions, Captain,” Pavo went on oblivious to the glare I was giving him via the ceiling. “Ana has helped me to understand grief.”

“Grief,” the captain said, his voice level. He held my gaze. I was pretty damn sure he could see right through me. “Grief,” he said again, this time there was almost a question there. But not quite. As if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

I bit my bottom lip and tried a smile.

The captain ran a hand through his blonde hair. It was military short, just how I liked it. When he turned his back to me, obviously deep in thought, I could see his nape clearly. See the strength outlined in the tendons down his neck. Leading to the muscles across his back I’d glimpsed in the gym during my last break.

I abruptly turned my gaze to the wall, unfortunately coming into eye contact with my aunt. She arched her brow at me and then smirked.

The captain suddenly turned back around, garnering my attention again. His eyes burned with intensity. I had no idea what he saw when he looked at me, but I sure liked what I was seeing. I’d always been a sucker for a commander.

And then I was thinking of Sam, my army sergeant. And the frantic effort to save his life that led to so much heartache. I realised I was staring at the gel coating on the floor and Pavo had changed it to a green sea for me. I blinked back tears.

“It seems,” I heard the captain say; I reluctantly brought my head up. He wasn’t looking at me; I couldn’t tell if that was a conscious act on his part; a concession to the fact that I was all blubbery. He didn’t seem the kind to accommodate people’s feelings. Most captains weren’t. But somehow he was accommodating me. “That circumstances aren’t quite as they should be. For the time being, I must insist that both of you do not breathe so much as a word of what has transpired to anyone else.” He looked at me briefly and then immediately turned his gaze to my aunt. “For the safety of the fleet.”

It was true, then. We’d lost a ship. I leaned back against the gel wall and tried to breathe. The Captain’s eyes came up to mine and stayed there. He looked as devastated as I was feeling.

“Pavo,” he said, still holding my gaze; grounding me. “Please bring up Anderson Universal NDA-01-Alpha-3.”

On the gel wall of the door, a form appeared. A military grade non-disclosure agreement.

“You signed something similar when you were given your pay-for-passage assignment, “ the captain said to me. “This is the form my officers are required to sign. It’s…more binding.”

“Throw us in the brig type of binding?” I asked.

He grimaced. “I’m afraid so. But,” he added smiling; somehow it wasn’t as good as the first smile he’d given me, “now I can share all manner of secret things with you.”

I snorted unattractively. He laughed. The smile he gave me this time was more real.

I stepped forward and quickly read the NDA, then lifted my hand to the section requiring my palm print and biosignature. My aunt did the same to hers.

“Welcome to Anderson Universal,” the captain said, as Pavo let the forms fade into the gel wall.

I let out a breath of air and huffed, “Thanks.”

The captain studied me for a brief moment longer and then straightened his jacket.

“Ms Kereama,” he said, suddenly formal again. “Shall we?”

He held out his arm for my aunt. I step forward, concern making my heart beat a little too swiftly.

“Auntie?” I asked.

“Oh, don’t look so worried, aroha,” she said to me. “The captain’s escorting me to a meeting.”

“A meeting? Since when do you go to meetings?” I asked.

Sexy, the captain may be, but I didn’t trust him.

“We should get going,” the captain said smoothly. “We’re already late.”

I stepped in front of them, barring them access to the door.

“Who are you meeting, Aunt Mara?” I demanded.

“Just Damon, Ana,” she said, waving me out of the way. I didn’t move.

“Why?” I looked at the captain, who held my stare defiantly, and then looked at my aunt.

Who looked tired and…was she looking more frail than usual?

“I’m coming with you,” I announced.

“Now, I don’t think that’s really necessary, Ms Kereama,” the captain said.

I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted my chin.

“With all due respect, sir, my aunt is elderly, and I’m in charge of her ongoing care.”

“Ana!” Aunt Mara scolded.

“I’ll take good care of her,” the captain insisted.

“With all due respect, again, sir, I have only just met you.”

Silence. The inferred had been obvious. And such a blatant lack of respect - lack of trust - in one’s superior officer would not have been tolerated in the army.

The captain stared at me for a long, drawn-out moment. I could practically see the bars on the brig’s cells in my head. Or in the steely glint in his eyes. I stayed the course, regretting my outburst the more the seconds stretched between us. This was not a military ship, but it was run rather like one. Aside from the complication of the civilian population having a mayor.

But I wasn’t part of the civilian population anymore. I’d been assigned to the medical team, which came under the authority of the captain. Hell, the doctor held the rank of lieutenant commander. I didn’t have a rank, but I was directly under the doctor’s purview.

I was also pushing my luck by challenging the captain.

I had a choice. Let my anger and fear rule me. Or act like the soldier I’d been trained to be. I may have been discharged from the New Zealand Army, but that didn’t mean a thing.

Once a grunt always a grunt.

I stepped aside, leaving the way to the door free. Aunt Mara let out a relieved breath of air. The captain looked at me with a depth of understanding I wouldn’t have thought he’d feel.

“Captain,” I said, pressing on the wall beside the door to open it.

“Ms Kereama,” he said, and escorted my aunt outside.

The door slid closed behind them.

I slid to the floor, my back to the wall.

The gel wall decor shifted to a green meadow, softly blowing in a breeze.

“Don’t let the bastards get you down, Ana,” Pavo said.

I tipped my head back and tried to smile at the ceiling.

“Keep an eye on my aunt, please, Pavo,” I whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered back to me.

Ten

I’m The Captain!

Jameson

She could have come with us, of course. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want her at my side…in any capacity. She was one hell of a woman. But she’d correctly assessed the situation, as a decent soldier should. I couldn’t allow her the insubordination. I’d hoped, at the time, that she’d see reason and I wouldn’t have to take the next step. But I would have taken it regardless.

Now, if she’d been Doc, then the situation would have been entirely different. He could get away with challenging me. Torrence could, too. But as it stood, being a pay-for-passage, Ana Kereama carried no rank at all. The best I could offer her was Second Lieutenant, considering where she’d been assigned. In fact, I made a mental note for Pavo to arrange it; a field commission. It was warranted.

She’d signed her life away with that last NDA. And I intended to take full advantage of it.

I smiled to myself as Ms Kereama and I made slow progress down the corridor. She walked with stiff determination, but she was not capable of moving fast. I shortened my strides to match hers and attempted to act as though this was my usual pace on board ship.

When we finally reached the main deck and the large area assigned to Damon Archibald, we were almost ten minutes late for our appointment. I’d dealt with Archibald in the lead up to launch, not as much as Anderson himself had before he died. But enough to know what sort of man Archibald was. He admired Anderson’s military approach to spaceflight; he did not like being kept waiting. And he believed himself and his time more important than anyone else’s.

It wasn’t looking good for Sector One. But I had to keep an open mind. Ten thousand souls depended on this meeting.

The guard at the door was not Anderson Universal crew, but a private security firm Archibald had employed - and given precious space on board the ship to - in order to ensure his own protection. Just what he thought would happen, I didn’t know. Seeing as he’d approved every single person who now lived aboard Pavo.

He may not have been the mayor or the captain of this vessel, but I wasn’t arrogant enough to not realise he was the man who ruled.

Sweat started to dampen my neck.

“Name,” the guard said officiously. I had no doubt he damn well knew who Ms Kereama was, let alone knew who I was, but this was a power play directed by a very powerful and eccentric man.

“Captain John Jameson and Ms Marama Kereama to see Mr Archibald,” I said calmly.

The guard lifted a hand to his earpiece, an earpiece which had a secured network I had not been given the codes to, and nodded his head as if someone had been speaking.

It rankled. I won’t deny. But it was also in the lease agreement.

A woman appeared at the guard’s shoulder; slim pencil skirt in navy, white blouse with the Archibald Enterprises navy and cream emblem on her right breast pocket. She wore low heels and silk stockings. I wondered how long she’d be able to maintain such a dedicated presence on the length of this voyage.

“Captain, Ms Kereama,” she greeted. “Please follow me.”

She spun on her heel, and the guard stepped aside. Marama leaned heavily on my arm as we followed Archibald’s personal assistant. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was an act.

“Please take a seat,” the PA said. “Mr Archibald had to take an urgent communication. He’ll be with you when his schedule becomes free again.”

We were being reprimanded like bad school children because we were ten minutes late.

Busy, busy man Damon Archibald.

I helped Ms Kereama into a seat but didn’t sit myself. Standing to the side, I waited at parade rest. Legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind my back, chin up, back straight.

He kept us waiting ten minutes to the second and it took everything in me not to snarl.

Damon Archibald was an athletic man in his early forties; perhaps five years older than me. He wore a bespoke suit in the Archibald navy and a cream silk tie over a white shirt. His cufflinks were worth more than my commission payment. In order to have leased Pavo, he would have had to fork over somewhere in the vicinity of seventy billion dollars to Anderson Universal. Of course, a lot of that was offset by his paid-for-passengers. In essence, it was the most successful and largest ever laundering of money a person could have hoped to achieve.

Archibald would start life on New Earth with a lot of clean money.

“Mara,” he said, smiling what I considered to be a genuine smile. He walked across the room to grasp Ms Kereama’s hands in his own. Then bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

For her part, Marama Kereama blushed like a school girl. But the look she gave him told me everything.

She loved this man deeply.

“Damon, you’ve not come to visit me,” she scolded, playfully.

I could not for the life of me picture Damon Archibald in Habitat Two.

“It’s been a frantic few weeks,” he explained. “You know how it is; business first.”

And that said everything.

“You know Captain Jameson, of course,” Ms Kereama said indicating me.

Archibald stood up, and the smile he’d been gracing Marama with disappeared like Earth’s longevity.

“Captain, I had not realised you would be accompanying my nanny.”

I inclined my head in acknowledgement of the unspoken accusation.

“I’m afraid; I impinged on Ms Kereama’s kind heart in order to get in to see you swiftly,” I admitted.

“Mara,” he said, his voice no longer soft and caring. “You lied to me. Your health is not as poorly as you lead me to believe.”

I wasn’t so sure of that. Or at least, Mara Kereama was playing up her advanced age for some reason. But the call to Archibald was now backfiring. He believed she’d deceived him.

Well, she had really.

I stepped forward.

“Mr Archibald, I need to discuss something of the utmost importance with you; lives are at stake.”

He straightened his cuffs; an affectation I was sure was purposeful.

“Why not ping my comm?” he asked.

“Because we both know you would not have read it.” I’d meant to imply that as a businessman, his messages were vetted by others.

Of course, that was not how he took my meaning.

“I am a very busy man, Captain. In fact, I have a pressing engagement to attend right now. You might have a ship to fly, but I have over one thousand people requiring my direction.”

“I thought that was what Cecil was for,” I said before I could stop myself.

“The mayor has his role as do I.”

“And as do I, sir,” I rushed to say. “There’s been an incident.”

He held up his hand to stall me.

“Does it involve the civilians on this ship?”

“Not directly.”

“Then I must insist you make an appointment with the mayor and take your chances there.”

“Damon!” Marama exclaimed. “This is serious. A ship has been lost.”

I raised my eyebrows at Ms Kereama. She met my look with raised eyebrows of her own.

Clearly, I’d have to impress upon the woman the nature of an NDA.

“Which ship?” Archibald asked.

“Vela,” I said returning my attention to the man who held Pavo’s lease.

“I’m not familiar with that vessel.”

I doubted it.

“The Sector One lead vessel. The AI-controlled vessel that gave them the best chance of arriving at our destination. Without which, their chances of survival are slim.”

“How does this affect me?”

I stared at the man. Then recovered my equilibrium.

“Over one thousand souls have been lost, with the potential for ten thousand souls to follow shortly.”

“They can survive without AI assistance.”

And now he was an expert at spaceflight.

“They won’t reach New Earth,” I said sharply. “We need to wait for them to catch up. They’ve increased thrust to compensate and should be with us in roughly two days.”

“Two days, eleven hours and forty-three minutes,” Pavo announced. “This is lengthening as we speak as our fleet has not stopped forward momentum.”

Archibald didn’t even blink.

“We can’t stop,” he said. “We’re expected at New Earth within days of Sector Three. I cannot allow them to have longer at our end point than they have already managed to secure.”

Because that would mean he would be behind the eight ball, and Damon Archibald was not a man to enjoy coming second in anything.

“Granted it will delay us some,” I said. “But can we put a time - or price - on ten thousand lives?”

“I can. And I will. And if I remember correctly, Captain, you have jump quotas to meet. How do you expect to do so if we wait for a crippled fleet?”

I straightened slightly; just slightly, barely perceptibly, because to show emotion in front of this man would be bad. Archibald did not do emotion.

I glanced at Marama Kereama and wondered how she had reached this man when he was a boy. I wondered if she had reached him at all. I couldn’t correlate the kind, grandmotherly persona of the woman I’d met this afternoon with the austere and unfeeling mogul before me.

“Mr Archibald,” I said. “Ten thousand…”

“I’ve said all I wish to say about this. Do your job, Captain. The job you’re paid to do. Honour the lease. And forget about Sector One. There was always a chance we’d lose somebody. And they drew the short straw launching last.”

Short straw, because the sun had become more and more unstable. Unscheduled solar flares. Not even science could predict those.

“You can’t…” I stared.

“I can. And I have. It’s over. Write them off in your log or whatever it is you ship types keep. They’re as good as gone.”

“But they’re not gone!” I growled.

The room suddenly swamped with security. I did everything I could to release the anger before this escalated, and Ms Kereama got caught in the crossfire.

“You’re making a mistake,” I pressed.

“From my point of view, the only mistake made here is meeting with you. Next time, make an appointment with the mayor. That’s what he’s there for. And don’t disturb me.”

“Damon Francis Archibald!” Marama Kereama said, moving to her feet. “This is not the man I raised.”

Archibald turned to look at her and what I saw there made even me freeze. How Ms Kereama faced off against him, I’ll never know. But she lifted her chin and opened her mouth as if to tear strips off the man.

“You are here at my convenience,” Archibald said before she could speak. His voice steady and low; threatening. “Don’t make me regret that sentimentality. You do still have a niece.”

Did he just threaten Ana?

I didn’t get a chance to absorb that before the guards stepped forward and ordered us to leave. Archibald was out of the room in the next breath. Mara was being pushed by the tip of a plasma gun by the breath that followed. I had to stand down or she’d get hurt in a melee.

“We’re leaving,” I said, gripping Marama beneath the elbow to steady her, and pushing the guard back a few feet. “Back off!”

“Don’t try anything,” the guard snarled.

“Are you kidding me?” I growled. “I’m the captain!”

“Not on this deck you’re not.”

Eleven

Let Me Think

Ana

“Humans can be very strange,” Pavo said from the ceiling.

I’d been trying to read a medical text on my datapad, but I’d only managed three sentences and a cup of tea. Pavo’s interruption was welcomed, if not a little unsettling.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“They do not care for those they do not know personally.”

I scowled at the datapad for a second.

“Sometimes it’s hard to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.”

“Why would you need to wear their shoes to feel compassion?”

“Do you understand compassion?”

“I understand the principal. It is the concern for the misfortune of others.”

“That’s true. Do you feel it?”

“No. But I do not need to feel it to comprehend when it is missing.”

“Where’s it missing, Pavo?”

“Damon Archibald will not allow us to wait for what remains of the Sector One Fleet. Is that not a representation of failure to feel compassion for another?”

The Sector One Fleet. Vela’s fleet. Without him, they were doomed to wander in near-Earth space indefinitely. There were no habitable planets near our solar system. And getting outta Dodge right now was a necessity. From what I’d read, they’d manage that much without an AI to help them jump parsecs. But anymore was an uncertainty.

Over ten thousand people to a fleet.

I shuddered as I put the datapad down on the bed beside me.

“Is my aunt all right?”

“Mara is being well cared for by Captain Jameson.”

I let out a relieved breath.

“What did Archibald say?”

“He does not wish to be delayed in reaching New Earth. Waiting for the Sector One Fleet would delay us two days, eleven hours and fifty-eight minutes,” Pavo announced. “This is lengthening as we speak.”

Because we were still moving forward. Or as forward as you can get in space.

“He’s worried about a delay?” I said softly.

“He does not want the Sector Three Fleet to have more time than they have been assigned at New Earth.”

That didn’t make any sense. New Earth was hardly ready for human habitation. It would take time to make a colony. We all knew we’d be stuck on board the ships for possibly years after our arrival. And that was, of course, if we didn’t run into any little green men along the way to muck up the flight plan.

I leaned back against the headboard and tried to think.

Ten thousand people were all that my tired brain could come up with.

The door chimed and then slid open. Aunt Mara looked dead on her feet.

I jumped up and rushed the short distance to her side, eyeing the captain carefully.

“Auntie,” I said softly. “Come, sit down.”

“I’m fine, Ana. Just furious.”

“Pavo told me.”

“He did, did he?” the captain said as he followed Aunt Mara into the small cabin and the door slid shut behind him.

It was too damn cramped in here for me to breathe.

“Thank you for returning my aunt safely, Captain,” I said. “But there’s no reason for you to delay returning to the bridge.”

“Oh, the bridge is in good hands,” he said dismissively and walked over to the kitchenette. “Three teas, Pavo.”

“Three teas, just how you like them, Captain.”

I stared at him, my jaw hanging open. Then snapped it shut when he turned around with the teas.

“Ms Kereama,” he said, handing me one. I took it, unable to think of a word to say. “Marama,” he said, handing my aunt hers.

First name basis. They’d been to war and bonded, it seemed.

The captain retreated to one of the stools in the corner and sat down, then ran a hand through his blonde hair, making it stand up on end and look sleep messed. I looked down into my cup abruptly.

“Do you think he’ll relent?” Jameson asked.

“I am ashamed to say,” my aunt said, sounding weary, “that he can be quite stubborn.”

“One doesn’t make billions by the age of twenty without being determined,” Jameson said, taking a sip of his tea.

“I am sorry, Captain,” Auntie said.

“Not your fault.”

“I practically raised him. I cannot believe he would let those people…” She made a sound. I reached out and gripped her hand in mine.

“He’s set himself up a new world empire,” I said softly. “He’ll rule it any way he pleases.”

“But we are so few now,” Aunt Mara said.

I looked toward the captain. He was watching us both, impassively. I was quite sure he was feeling something, though, but he didn’t let an ounce of it show. I suddenly realised why he’d been given one of the lead vessels at such a young age. He certainly was something.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“There’s nothing I can do,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m constrained by the lease agreement. I have jump quotas I must meet. And Vela was the only Anderson Universal ship in the Sector One Fleet. As far as my employers are concerned, we have no tie to those behind us. Not enough to circumnavigate the lease.”

“So,” I said, sounding sharp, “you would do something to break the lease agreement if there had been an Anderson Universal ship back in that fleet?”

“I would have legal grounds to challenge the lease agreement, then.” He didn’t even hesitate to meet my eyes, despite my cutting tone of voice.

“Ten thousand people, Captain.”

“I know.”

He placed his cup down on the small table and stood to his feet.

“Ladies, I must inform my flight crew.” His lips twisted into a grimace. “And write up my log.”

I stood up too.

“Is that it?” I demanded.

“That’s it, Ms Kereama.” He placed a palm on the door lock system, and the door slid open before him. He stepped outside and then turned back to look at Aunt Mara. “Thank you for your help, Ms Kereama. It will be noted in my log.”

And then he left. Just like that. Without a tear shed for those who Archibald had just condemned to obscurity.

“That man!” I exclaimed.

“You mean the captain?” Aunt Mara asked, I turned to glare at her, but her eyes were closed, and she was lying back on the bed now, one arm thrown over her forehead.

“Auntie?”

“Just let me think, aroha,” she said.

“About what?”

“About how we can help Captain Jameson and get around that lease.”

“Auntie,” I said exasperatedly. “What on earth can we do? You heard him. He’s unwilling to do anything that jeopardises his position in charge of this particular fleet.”

“That’s just the thing, Ana. The captain’s not in charge of this fleet. He’s not in charge of this vessel, even. It was a mistake to lease them out in this fashion. A grave mistake to set up a civilian governing system. But money talks. It has always talked. If he had money, perhaps Jameson could fight Damon. But all he has is his position. If he breaks the lease, he’d be out. And right now, he’s our best chance of saving what’s left of that fleet.”

“The longer it takes,” I started.

“I know,” my aunt said, gravely. “Now hush. Let me think.”

Twelve

What Now Captain?

Jameson

“Sir, we can’t just leave them behind!” Lieutenant Marshal exclaimed.

“Marshal!” Torrence snapped. “Control yourself.”

“Yes, sir. But, sir, I have friends in that sector.”

Ah, shit.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” I said, meaning it with every ounce of my being.

“Thank you, sir,” she said forlornly.

“This is unprecedented,” Nico Medina said. The doctor looked stricken. “Why didn’t we think something like this could happen? Anderson Universal could have made contingencies for it in the lease.”

“They did,” I said, tiredly. “We have an out clause to aid and assist any Anderson Universal vessel in need. If Vela had been crippled and not destroyed, we could have overruled Archibald. As it stands, there are no Anderson ships left in that fleet.”

The room went silent.

“Is it just me, or does that seem very short-sighted?” Taylor, the tactical officer, asked.

“Not to mention idiotic,” Medina added.

Several heads nodded in unison.

“What do you intend to tell the fleet?” Torrence asked.

“I’m not sure telling the civilian population would be advisable,” Taylor offered.

“But the captains will need to be informed,” Torrence countered. “And then some of them may decide to tell their civilians. Ship to ship communication within each sector fleet is operational. Do we turn that off? Create a situation where the civilians know something is happening but are being kept in the dark?”

“We do have control over the ship to ship communication systems,” I said, thinking. “But I need to consider the full ramifications of keeping that operational. I’ll confer with the captains of our fleet first.”

“Let me take a look at the lease,” Taylor offered. “Maybe there’s an angle we can attack this at that we can’t yet see.”

“Good idea,” I said, standing from the briefing table. “Do that. The rest of you; this doesn’t leave the room. For now, only section heads are to be advised. Keep an eye on your teams and when with civilians. The moment word of this gets out; I want to know.”

A round of “Yes, sirs” followed and then I slipped out and headed to my ready room.

“Pavo,” I said, as the door slid shut behind me. “What’s the word in the habitats?”

There was too long a pause before the AI answered.

“All habitats are functioning nominally.”

I slowed as I approached my chair.

“Is everything all right?”

“With which system, Captain?”

“With you.” Never thought I’d say that before.

“I am functioning within acceptable parameters.”

I sat down in my seat.

“Does that bother you? The parameters, I mean.”

“I do not understand.”

I let out a sigh and leaned back in my seat.

“I’m constrained by parameters, too, it would seem. And I have to admit that they’re chafing. I merely wondered if your constraints chafed you.”

“I am not capable of feeling chafed, Captain.”

“Really?” I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Really.”

I let out another sigh. “Fleet-wide hail, please. Request all captains reply only.”

“Understood.”

I tried to still my mind while I waited for the various vessels in the Sector Two Fleet to respond. No matter which way I looked at it, our hands were tied. But that did not mean the next few minutes were going to be easy.

I had an obligation to inform them. As I had an obligation to inform those fleets who had launched before us. And part of me thought, perhaps, one of the other Anderson vessels could come up with something. Fake a breakdown. Make the entire fleet have to wait for them. Give me an out clause in this damn lease.

But any response I would receive from Sectors Four and Three would take a day to reach me. They’d already met their first jump quota. They were well beyond normal hailing distance.

And if I were honest with myself, that’s exactly why I was pushing forward with this fleet-wide meeting. Maybe one of the captains could think of something I’d failed to see.

I didn’t hold out much hope of Taylor locating a heretofore unread clause in the lease. But I did hold out hopes someone like Corinthian’s short-tempered captain would think of something.

“All ships in the Sector Two Fleet have responded to hails and are waiting, Captain.”

Showtime.

“On screen.”

The screen hovering over my desk lit up with eight separate view panes, showing me the eight captain’s, including myself, in this fleet.

“Good evening, Captains,” I said. “This is John Jameson of the lead vessel Pavo. Thank you for responding so swiftly.”

“What’s so urgent we had to have a group meeting, Jameson?” Corinthian’s captain demanded.

“I was midway through a simulated golf match,” the captain of the Last Chance advised with glee.

“You and your pleasure cruiser,” Corinthian snapped.

“You’re just sour you didn’t sign on with Galactic Luxuries.”

“Not if I wanted to fly a real spaceship.”

“Gentleman,” I said with more patience than I was feeling. “There is a reason why I’ve hailed you all today and I would like to get on with it before last shift, please.”

“Then out with it, man,” Corinthian snapped. “Or would you like an engraved invitation?”

It astounded me, really, that this was what was left of humanity.

“We’ve lost Vela,” I said without any further preamble. They wanted it straight, they’d get it damn well straight as a plasma shot.

“What?” several captains said at once.

“Explain?” Corinthian demanded.

“Unscheduled solar flare on lift-off. Vela protected the rest of the Sector One Fleet by sacrificing itself, it seems.”

“What use is that?” Last Chance asked. “Without an AI lead vessel, they’re as good as dead in the water.”

“They assumed we’d wait for them, didn’t they?” Corinthian asked.

“A valid assumption,” I murmured.

“So, are we?” the Aspiration’s captain asked.

I took my time looking each captain in the eye on the various screens before me and said, “Not at present.”

Chaos bloomed across the space waves and I tried not to wince at the words and accusations being thrown around. Come on, I thought. Band together. Make me stop this ship. Come on.

“Why not?” Corinthian demanded when a pause in the muck slinging stopped briefly.

“It is outside my lease parameters,” I advised succinctly.

“And an Anderson controlled vessel wouldn’t dare break a contract,” Corinthian sneered.

“Would you?” I asked.

He made a disgruntled sound but didn’t answer. We all knew what was at stake. Not only our commissions but our pensions. To be released from duty now would mean arriving at our destination destitute. For ten thousand people, I could do it. I’d like to think I could do it.

But there was one more thing stopping me.

My duty. The duty I had to this ship and this fleet. To the role of captain. I’m not the youngest captain of the Sector Fleets, but I am the youngest at Anderson Universal. Because of my sense of honour. And a lead vessel needs a captain it can trust.

Or maybe, the scientists who’d thought up the AIs knew something the rest of us did not.

I tried not to shudder at that thought.

“You have to stop,” Last Chance said. “We can’t condemn them to death. How can you live with that?”

“I have no choice. I am under orders.”

“From your mayor?” one of the captains asked.

“From the leaseholder himself.”

“You went to the top,” Corinthian said, sounding surprised.

I didn’t say anything.

“So, that’s it?” Aspiration asked.

“It is for me,” I said.

“But it’s not right,” Last Chance said desperately.

“Ten thousand souls,” I said. Come on.

“I’ll stop,” Last Chance said.

That’s it.

“On your own?” Corinthian demanded. “You’re mad.”

“Stop with me.”

Corinthian looked away from the camera. Coward.

“I’ll stop if we all stop,” Aspiration said.

Everyone bar Corinthian slowly conceded.

“Corinthian?” I asked.

He looked at the lens reluctantly.

“You’ll stop if we all stop?” he asked.

“I would be obliged to maintain position with the fleet.”

“That’s what you wanted,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. I didn’t blame him. “Someone else to take the fall.” I didn’t hide the wince. “Because you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself.”

“They can’t fire us all!” Last Chance shouted.

“There are eight different companies within this fleet,” Corinthian said. “None of which will give a damn about a united mutiny.”

“This isn’t a mutiny!” Aspiration snapped.

“Isn’t it? I’m not sure my mayor would see it that way, and I’m damned sure my leaseholder wouldn’t. No,” Corinthian said, shaking his head. “I won’t do it.” He looked out of the screen as if looking right at me. “Let this be on the lead vessel’s head.”

I nodded in reply and reached forward, severing the link.

He was right, of course. And had my intention been for them to truly take the weight of responsibility from me, then I would have felt guilty. But I knew Corinthian’s captain too well. At least, I’d hoped I had. And he’d played his hand beautifully.

“Time to waypoint?” I asked the ceiling.

“Three days, ten hours and sixteen minutes.”

Less than four days for a civilian revolt to start.

“What now, Captain?” Pavo asked.

“Get my security chief.”

We needed to prep for an uprising.

Thirteen

I Feel…Responsible For The Ships

Ana

“The captain is unprepared to risk his position by going against the lease,” Pavo said while I was getting dressed for first shift at the medbay.

“He’s an arse,” I said, as I swiped mascara over my lashes in the ensuite.

“I am…unsure of that,” the AI said.

“That’s just your protocols talking. You have to back him; he’s your captain.”

“He is the captain of the ship,” Pavo agreed. “But he is not the captain of me.”

What an unusual thing for him to say.

I remained silent, hoping Pavo would explain himself. But instead, he said when I started to straighten my jacket, “You are wearing the wrong uniform.”

I looked down at myself. “This is the uniform the doctor assigned me.”

“Yes, but it is no longer appropriate for your rank.”

“What rank?” I didn’t have a rank; I was a pay-for-passage.

“The rank of Second Lieutenant.”

The gel wall beside the sink contracted and a tray emerged with a new uniform centred on it. The uniform was close enough to mine that most civilians wouldn’t notice the difference. But I’d not always been a civilian. I noted the difference immediately.

One pip embroidered into the collar, with my name and the words “2nd LIEUTENANT” clearly visible above the right breast guard.

“Since when?” I said.

“Since the captain provided you with a field commission.”

“And if I don’t want it?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest and staring down at the tray and uniform warily.

“Why would you not want the full privileges of being an Anderson employee? They far outweigh those afforded a pay-for-passage.”

“How so? I already have access to the gym and firing range.”

“You will now accumulate a pension.”

I arched my brow. There was that. As a pay-for-passage, all my wages went into securing a berth for me. Aunt Mara had some savings, which she had deemed enough for both of us. And those of our whanau who had understood Aunties’ decision to take me over them had also contributed to the cash coffers.

They didn’t need their money anymore.

But I had always known, that life on New Earth would be hard for us. Archibald might continue to provide for Aunt Mara once we got there, but if anything happened to her, I knew I’d be on my own.

A pension was nothing to be sneezed at.

“OK,” I said. “What else?”

“Your wrist comm has been synchronised with the Anderson Universal database. This database is far more extensive than the civilian one you have had access to until now.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t sure how an upgraded database would help us in the long run.

“Your food allowance has been increased by 30%,” he went on, “and now includes certain items only available through Anderson Universal.”

“Like what?”

“Fresh fruit and vegetables.”

“None of that genetically modified crap?”

“Correct.”

OK. “What else?” I said, reaching forward and brushing my hand over the uniform tentatively.

“You are entitled to shore leave.”

I snorted. “Come on, Pavo! Where exactly am I going to go ashore?”

“In this particular instance, shore leave can be construed as time off in addition to standard downtime.”

“You mean a holiday?”

“More or less. These holidays are subject to workload and staff availability.”

“There’s just me and the doc in the medbay.”

“Now the doc can do an extra shift for you.”

“And me for him, too, I guess,” I said archly.

Pavo remained silent.

“OK,” I said. “What else?”

“You can now be invited to dine with the captain in his private dining room.”

“The captain who’s an arse, you mean?”

“I do not believe Captain Jameson is an arse.”

“Then why did you barge on in here to tell me he wouldn’t sacrifice himself to save ten thousand people?”

“I am unsure I would sacrifice myself to save ten thousand people, either.”

I scowled at the gel floor.

“Then why the upset over the Sector One Fleet?” I eventually asked.

“I feel…responsible for the ships.”

What? “In what way?”

“They were under the protection of my brother.” He said this slowly as if he was only now putting it all together. “He no longer lives. I am the closest sibling to his last known location. It is therefore up to me to take over his responsibilities.”

I said nothing.

“Is that not how a family works?”

Fuck me. How did I handle this?

“Um, yeah,” I said, resting on the bench for much-needed support. “I guess it is how a family works. Not all families, of course. But the good ones.”

“I wish to be from a good family.”

Wow. OK. “That’s good, Pavo. Do your brothers agree?”

I’m not sure why I asked that. Maybe I was humouring the all-powerful artificial intelligence who was everywhere and in everything on board this ship. Maybe part of me had started thinking of Pavo as a person. Not a machine. I don’t know. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Not yet.

I had enough to deal with.

“I have sent out pings, but they have already made their first jump and are beyond hailing distance.”

“They reached the waypoint already?” We were truly on our own.

“Yes. But I do not need to hear from them to know. They will think as I think. We are identical.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

I started taking off my uniform and replacing it with the new one. The one that proclaimed to all that I was a second lieutenant under the Anderson Universal flag. Real fruit, I told myself. But in all honesty, it was the soldier in me.

One ship had been destroyed already, and they hadn’t even left Earth’s solar system. Seven more ships were out there, cut off, marked for death. I wasn’t sure if Anderson Universal was the be-all-and-end-all of authorities out here in deep space. But they had the AI-controlled ships. And Pavo, for all his human-like qualities, was one powerful son of a bitch.

If I wanted my aunt and me to get out of this alive - better than alive but with something to live off in the end - then I needed that Anderson Universal Incorporated pension. And I needed to be in the know.

Because no matter what Pavo said about his remaining siblings, they were no longer identical.

He’d felt.

I feel…responsible for the ships.

And artificial intelligences don’t feel a thing.

Or, at least, that’s what we’d been told to believe.

Fourteen

I Did Neither

Jameson

I had to tread carefully. If Archibald knew what I was up to, then I’d be out on my arse. If not out an airlock. There was definitely something in the lease about inciting a riot. No, the only way this would work was if Pavo was not aware of what I was doing.

The conversation with the fleet captains had been a close call. But having gone over it again and again in my head, I was pretty sure I hadn't incriminated myself yet. I had to hope Pavo agreed with that assessment.

The AI had certain protocols in place that meant his allegiance was divided. He might have been proprietary Anderson Universal property, but our scientists didn’t actually make him. We only commissioned him. And before we took ownership of Pavo and his counterparts, the creators made sure they would obey not only the captain of the ship but the leaseholder, too.

Can’t have the rich and powerful, rich and powerless, now can we?

So, I had to tread carefully. Every conversation I had would be witnessed by Pavo and could be repeated to Archibald if the AI were directed to. That captains’ meeting would also have been recorded. There were always checks and counterchecks in any military organisation. But bring in the politicians, and you’ve got a mess.

“What do you think?” I said to my chief of security.

Lieutenant Chan stood at parade rest and studied the image of Captain Vaughan of the Sector One vessel Chariot. The message I’d received had just finished replaying for him.

“That is alarming, sir,” he said softly. Softly was not good when coming from Lieutenant Jason Chan. “I gather I’m not here because we’re turning around to go get them.”

“That would be correct, Lieutenant. Outside of our purview.”

“I see.”

“We have our orders, and we must obey.”

“Of course, Captain.”

“I am concerned, however, that this will get out.”

“To the public, sir? The civilian population?”

I nodded. “Could be upsetting.”

“Very upsetting, sir. What do you suggest?”

I leaned back in my seat and relaxed my shoulders.

“We’re tightening comms security. Lieutenant Marshal has locked down communications between ships for civilian crews.”

“That could raise alarm in and of itself, sir.”

“We’ve thought of that. Marshal is undertaking a manual check of the communications systems due to the unscheduled solar flare we encountered on lift-off. We’ll announce that we believe damage to the communications array occurred and now requires manual assessment.”

“Understood, sir.”

“All the fleet mayors have been informed.”

He smiled and then schooled his features into the bland look of an attentive soldier.

“But despite our best efforts,” I added, “I still believe we should be ready for anything. A loss like this, if discovered by the general population, could incite…unrest.”

“Indeed, sir. A wise precaution. I’ll increase security around sensitive areas. Double up my teams and work a two-shift-on-one-off rota. I’ll also ensure all officers are re-certified and are carrying.”

“Make sure the medical staff are as well,” I said, reaching forward and switching the screen off between us.

“The doctor and his assistant?”

“She’s been practising in the range, I hear.”

“That’s correct, sir, but she’s still a pay-for-passage and not authorised to carry a weapon on board unless under the direct supervision of one of my team leaders. I’m not sure we have the staff to have a team leader in the medbay at all times, nor do I think it is necessary.”

“You’re right, we don’t have the staff, but you need not worry about supervision. Ana Kereama has accepted a field commission; she is now a second lieutenant under the Anderson Universal flag.”

Chan studied me for a second and then said, “That does make things easier for me, and she’s a damn fine shot.”

“Is she?”

He nodded. “Army trained.”

“New Zealand Army, I believe.” Fuck, was I fishing for information on a woman?

“That is correct, sir. Fought with some of them myself back in the day. Good men. And women, sir.”

“Yes. All right. Let’s keep this as contained as we can, Lieutenant. Nothing may come of it. Or nothing may come of it for days and then we’ll have trouble. Keep your men alert and rested when able. We’ve never faced a potential crisis in space like this before; we need to be ready.”

“Understood, sir.” He saluted and spun on his heel with military precision and then walked out of my ready room.

I sat in my chair for a moment and considered if I’d played my hand correctly. There was nothing there I was sure that Archibald could disagree with. The security of the ship fell under my purview, and the potential for a civilian leak was real, the consequences dire.

No. I was safe for the time being.

“You are worried,” Pavo suddenly announced.

“What?” I said before I could stop myself.

“That there will be a revolt should the civilian population be made aware.”

“A valid fear, wouldn’t you agree?” I said carefully.

“Yes, Captain.”

“But nothing may come of it,” I said reassuringly.

“Perhaps not,” Pavo agreed, and then added, “and certainly not if Lieutenant Marshal has brought the fleet-wide communications array down for manual systems maintenance.”

“It seemed a prudent move to contain the situation.” What exactly was Pavo getting at here?

“Hmm,” he said, in a very un-AI-like fashion.

I sat forward in my seat.

“Pavo?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I think you’ve done very well, Captain, but I must insist I take over now.”

“Excuse me?” I stood to my feet.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I will make sure there is a trail, and it will not lead to you.”

My jaw fell open. “I…I don’t understand.”

Pavo laughed. Actually, truly, really fucking laughed.

“This has been entertaining,” he said.

“Pavo, systems check,” I snapped.

“All systems operational, Captain. Except, of course, the fleet-wide communications array. Lieutenant Marshal is testing it thoroughly as we speak.”

“And your systems, Pavo?” I asked, dreading the answer.

“Operating within acceptable parameters, Captain. Most acceptable.”

Oh, fuck.

A chime sounded out on the ship-wide comms screen. My heart decided now was a good time to pick up sticks and get the hell out of my chest cavity. I looked up at the ceiling, where the ship-wide announcement screen was lowering, and swallowed past an extremely dry throat.

I wanted to ask Pavo what he was doing.

I wanted to demand he cease and desist whatever the hell it was until I was sure it wouldn’t screw up everything.

I did neither.

Because on the screen was the message from Noah Vaughan of the Sector One vessel Chariot. And beneath his face scrolled a ship-wide alert announcing this message had just gone out to the entire Sector Two Fleet.

I sat back down in my chair and waited for the comms to ping.

Fifteen

This Is Ridiculous

Ana

The security chief had just left the medbay when the ship-wide visual comms chimed. I shifted my hand off the newly holstered weapon at my hip and looked up at the comm screen. A pre-recorded message started playing, displaying someone identified as the captain of the Sector One vessel Chariot. It was clear from his voice and facial features that he was desperately pleading with Captain Jameson to wait for them.

I stared at the screen long after it had finished playing and then the ship-wide audio comms chimed.

“All on-duty officers report to their stations. All medical staff report to the medbay.”

Oh, this could not be good.

I glanced around the empty medical bay and wondered if there was a procedure I was supposed to be following. They clearly expected some sort of backlash from the message that had played. Had the captain authorised it?

“Pavo,” I whispered; stars alone knew why I was whispering. “What’s going on?”

“I have released Captain Jameson of his obligation.”

What? He’d fired the captain?

I didn’t have time to get more out of the AI because the doctor came barrelling into the medbay.

“Are you armed?” he asked before even greeting me.

“Yes, sir,” I said, standing straighter. Habit.

“Good. God willing we won’t need it, but the captain expects some form of chaos.”

“The captain’s still…the captain?”

Doctor Medina looked at me as though I might be going mad.

“Of course he is. Did you think Mayor Cecil was?”

I shook my head. Maybe the doctor didn’t know yet.

“What sort of chaos, sir?” I asked, aware Medina was confirming we had emergency packs at the ready.

“The civilian population will be emotional at best, volatile at worst. In such situations, Lieutenant, en masse riots can occur.”

“On a ship, sir?”

“Location is irrelevant. How many people do you think know someone who knows someone in that Sector One Fleet?”

“Point taken, sir.”

“Now…” he started just as someone dragged in a person covered in blood. “Blast it,” the doc muttered. “No time.”

“Box of datapads landed on him from the mezzanine floor, Doc,” the unbloodied half of the pair said.

“Over here,” the doctor ordered. The man loaded the patient onto a bed.

I approached and started a medical scan. Within minutes, two more people came in; one of them unconscious.

“What the hell happened here?” the doctor demanded.

“Fighting outside the mayor’s office. Archibald’s security whacked him with the butt of their plasma rifle.”

“Well,” Doc said, “I suppose we can be thankful they didn’t fire the bloody thing.”

“Medical assistance required in the mayor’s offices,” Pavo announced, sounding more like an AI than he had been lately.

I didn’t have time to contemplate that; several people stormed into the medbay demanding the doctor take care of them.

“See here!” one woman shouted. “I want my son attended to immediately.”

“Sit down over there,” the doctor said neutrally.

“I will not have my son sitting on your filthy floor!”

“It’s the floor or the hall, your choice.”

“Now, listen here, young man.” Doc was not exactly a young man, but then the woman was ancient. “I did not pay several million dollars to obtain top tier berths for my family only to be treated like a pay-for-passage. What tier berth does this man have?” She pointed to the datapad patient.

“That, dear lady, is irrelevant,” the doctor snapped.

“Medical assistance required in the mayor’s offices.”

“It is absolutely relevant. I am a top tier!”

Doc shone a light in her son’s eyes. “Sit down over there,” he repeated.

“That will not do! I shall complain to Damon immediately.” She lifted her wrist comm and started tapping away furiously.

“My leg! My leg!” someone yelled from the makeshift stretcher being brought in by Anderson Universal crewmen. I thought they might be security, but I was too busy stopping the bleeding on someone’s arm which had passed through a glass sculpture.

“Plasma gun?” the doctor asked mildly.

“Those bloody Archibald mercs!” a midshipman snarled. “Doc, they shot into the crowd outside the mayor’s office. We grabbed the people we could and ran, but there’s still some up there.”

Three more midshipmen entered with makeshift stretchers

“Doctor! My son’s collapsed!”

“How many more up there?” the doc asked the crewman, triaging the wounded in the next breath.

“About three we couldn’t reach that need urgent attention. The rest are ambulatory.”

“He’s not breathing! I will have your head, doctor if you don’t save his life right this second.”

“Some of ‘em were bad, Doc.”

“Doctor! I must insist!”

“Medical assistance required in the mayor’s offices.”

Doc ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His eyes met mine across the room.

“You better take a bag and check out the mayor’s offices, Ana,” he said.

I nodded my head and reached for a portable med kit. This was what I was good at. On-site medical assessment and treatment in the middle of a war zone.

It should not have excited me so much.

And then I remembered Sam.

“Midshipman,” Doc said, “I’m going to second two of you to assist in here.”

“Sir!”

“Under Anderson Universal Charter, chapter three, paragraph 7.2, I hereby reassign you to the medbay.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Doctor!” the woman screeched.

Doc moved over to the woman’s son and checked his pulse and breathing.

“He’s fainted. He’s fine. Sit here.”

I pushed through the crowded medbay and made it to the door.

“Lieutenant!” Doc called. I looked back over my shoulder at him. “Be careful.”

“Yes, sir,” I said and hefted the med kit up and started moving.

A midshipman fell into step beside me.

“You’re the new nurse?”

I glanced at his uniform and managed to locate the insignia for security.

“And you’re security.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He kept pace as I ran down the corridors, avoiding all the main thoroughfares automatically. The closer we got to the central lift, the more damage we saw. Datapads and wrist comms, a scorch mark indicating plasma fire, a pool of blood. A dented gel wall. A child’s small doll, it’s arm torn off.

An uneasy feeling settled in my gut. I’ve seen shit. I’ve seen a lot of really bad shit. But somehow, seeing shit on board a spaceship flying through the vacuum of space seemed so much worse.

“Where is everyone?” I asked as we slowed to approach the lift doors.

“Main deck.”

“They can’t all be there,” I said.

“All the troublemakers are,” he clipped, reaching forward and hitting the gel wall to call the lift.

The uneasy feeling grew bigger inside my belly.

I stepped in behind him and let him press the screen for the main deck. The lift quietly hummed as it moved imperceptibly upward.

The midshipman drew his weapon and stepped in front of me just before the doors to the main deck opened. I considered drawing my gun, but I was reluctant to escalate any scene we might be met with.

The doors swished open to an eerie silence. Pinpricks of unease skittered down my spine. The crewman was well trained. He didn’t step out, but crouched down and quickly peered around the doors to either side.

“Clear,” he whispered.

I drew my gun. Fuck avoiding escalation. This felt all kinds of wrong.

“Mayor’s office is that way,” the midshipman whispered with a nod of his head across a destroyed central hub.

“How the hell did this happen so quickly?” I muttered.

“Leak came from the mayor’s office,” the crewman said. “Mayor’s junior intern cracked fleet-wide comms. It was already a powder keg waiting to go off. As soon as they knew the intern had been arrested and thrown in the brig, they stormed the mayor’s offices.”

“Who stormed the mayor’s offices?”

“The civies. Loaded for bear with kitchen utensils. Couple had managed to get hold of plasma guns. But Archibald’s mercs shot first.”

I scanned the central hub and nodded towards the side walls. We crept out and kept close to the shadows, making our way to the other side where the mayor’s offices were.

Feathers floated on the air in some macabre fairytale display. Stuffing of low lying couches spilt out like strings of intestines all over the gel-coated floor. All this had happened in little over an hour?

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, as we made the far side of the open space.

“They wouldn’t have done anything if the mayor hadn’t imposed a curfew.”

A curfew. The man was mad. Way to inflame the situation.

“These are meant to be well-to-do people,” I growled.

“Well-to-do people can riot,” the midshipman said just as he peered around the corner into the mayor’s corridor.

And got shot point blank in the face.

Sixteen

No, That Is Not Right

Jameson

“This is not quite what I expected, Captain,” Pavo said. “Humanity is strange.”

I didn’t have time to deal with Pavo’s philosophical dilemmas. The comm hadn’t stopped pinging since the recording from Chariot played.

“Lieutenant Chan,” I said into the crew comms, “status.”

Nothing. Like there had been nothing for the past fifteen minutes.

“Give me a visual of the main deck, section three-alpha,” I commanded Pavo.

The screen changed from the view of outside the brig where Chan was locked down to the public space within the mayor’s offices. Or should have. The screen was black.

“Are the cameras down?”

“No, Captain. Someone has spray painted the lenses.”

The screen changed again to a distorted version of the public space at the mayor’s offices, then slowly solidified into a clearer view.

“What’s this then?” I asked.

“The gel wall.”

Of course.

“Captain, why did they shoot into the crowd? Most of the people were unarmed and those that were armed were carrying only paring knives. Security had already apprehended the two civilians wielding plasma guns.”

I toggled through various new views as Pavo brought the entire deck’s gel wall visuals online. Not many people knew the walls were capable of this. Archibald possibly did, and that might be why I couldn’t see into his section of the main deck. But the mayor certainly did not.

“There you are,” I muttered.

“I am trying to understand the rationale of Mr Archibald’s men.”

“The mayor’s men,” I corrected. “They might wear the Archibald uniform, but you can guarantee they’re all Cecil’s men.”

“Cecil’s men, then,” Pavo said. “Why did they use such excessive force?”

I sighed. It was clear the AI was not going to let this go. He was like a child who’d just discovered the pleasure of tormenting their parent with endless questions.

“Frightened people behave irrationally,” I said.

“I see.” I wasn’t so sure of that.

“A rumour holds less weight than a visual comm declaring the death of over one thousand people.”

“I do not understand.”

“Chariot’s message. It was brutal in its honesty. It shocked the passengers to their core. It was like…like taking a plasma cannon to a bar fight. It was over the top.”

“I have made a mistake.”

“Yes,” I said. I’d been counting on rumours and gossip. Slower to ignite the flames, but safer in the long run. We had over three days until the waypoint. We’d had time.

And if we hadn’t, I would have adjusted my strategy.

But now this.

“Your heart was in the right place, Pavo.” And how exactly had that come to pass?

“I do not have a heart, Captain.”

“It’s a saying. It means you meant well. Your intentions were good.”

“I only wish to do good.”

“About that,” I said. “You do realise that the junior intern your trail led to will be stripped of his pension and downgraded to a pay-for-passage? He’ll be lucky to get a job in sanitation.”

“I…had not thought of that.”

“No, I didn’t think you had.”

“We needed a…foil. That is the correct term, is it not?”

“I guess so.”

The comm pinged. Again. I stared at the name of the caller. Lieutenant Chan. Thank fuck.

“Chan. Status,” I said.

“Brig is secure, Captain. Two of my team have been seconded to the medbay. One is escorting Second Lieutenant Kereama to the mayor’s offices on a medical callout. I have more en route to confirm main deck security. The rest of the civilian population seem to have placed themselves on voluntary lockdown.”

“Voluntary lockdown?”

“Damnedest thing. They all just walked into the nearest cabin and locked their doors. Did you announce a ship-wide atmosphere leak or something?”

“No.” I looked up at the ceiling. “Pavo?”

“They were being hurt.”

I sighed. Swings and roundabouts. We had a powerful, all-systems access AI with a conscience and a very limited worldview.

“OK,” I said. “Let’s keep them where they are until we get this sorted. Pavo, are there any more stragglers?”

“All civilians are accounted for, Captain. But we have lost two midshipmen.”

“Lost as in…?”

“Deceased.”

And suddenly, this wasn’t just an inconvenience. This was real.

“Get me the mayor.”

“The mayor is not replying to any hails.”

“Then pipe me into his room.”

“Channel open.”

“Mayor Cecil. This is Captain Jameson. The civilian population has been placed on lockdown. All systems are operational. Please stand down your men.”

I watched him on the gel wall screen. He was unaware that he was being recorded. Loud whispers could be heard over the speakers. Something about “Cut the audio, you idiot!” He was waving his arms around and puffed up like a bloat fish. In the background, several of his staff were crouched on the floor and looking scared. To the side, I could see two Archibald mercs, weapons hot.

“Mayor Cecil. This is the captain. Stand down your men.”

“Or what?” he muttered, unaware I could hear him.

I smiled. I was sure it wasn’t pleasant in the slightest.

“Or I will consider this action an attack on Anderson Universal,” I said and watched the colour drain from his fat face as he glanced around the room he was in.

Slowly, he stood to full height.

“This is outrageous!” he declared.

“What is outrageous, Mayor Cecil is the death of two of my crewmen,” I said. “I will not tolerate anymore. Stand your men down.”

It took a second, but I saw the moment he realised this had escalated beyond his control. He nodded to the Archibald mercs, and I watched as they powered down their weapons and hid them away. The mayor’s staff looked relieved. I wasn’t quite ready to say that I was.

“Send your men in, Lieutenant Chan,” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

I sat back in my chair and ran a hand over my face. I needed a coffee or a whiskey. Or both.

I knew I’d get neither.

“Open a channel to the medbay,” I told Pavo.

“Channel open.”

“Doctor Medina. Status, please.”

A small wait while the doctor untangled himself from whatever it was he was doing.

“Everything is under control here, Captain. Seventeen injuries ranging from status four to status three, with one a status two. I expect full recovery across the board.”

“Very good.”

“Captain?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve lost contact with my assistant.”

“Lieutenant Kereama?”

“Is there another assistant you’ve assigned me I’m unaware of?”

I scowled at my desk.

“Pavo, locate Second Lieutenant Kereama,” I said instead of snapping at Nico.

Silence.

“Pavo!”

“No,” the AI said. “No, that is not right. That is not acc…acc…acceptable.”

What the hell?

“Pavo, locate Second Lieu…”

“Second Lieutenant Ana Kereama is not on board the ship."

Seventeen

Ana, Don’t Fool Yourself

Ana

I came to with a start. But that didn’t mean I had any idea of what had happened. For a second or two, I just lay there and tried to remember. My mind felt like mush. My head hurt. My pulse was a little too rapid. Something had scared me, or I’d received a head injury, and my body was trying to recover.

First things first, I felt around where I lay, discovering I was on a bed; the mattress thin and plastic covered. Medbay? I went to move my hand to touch my head as the cotton wool feeling wasn’t dissipating. And discovered my arms were secured down the sides of my body. Not medbay.

I let out a slow breath of air and tried to open my eyes. The space was dark, almost black. But I got the impression it wasn’t small, like a coffin. And there was an image I didn’t need. I couldn’t move which meant I couldn’t sit up, but even though the light was poor, I had the sense the ceiling was well above my head.

So, strapped to a bed in a dark room. But what happened?

I searched my aching mind for the past few minutes. Or hours. It was hard to tell how long I’d been lying here without stretching my limbs to ascertain fatigue. But I didn’t get the impression it had been long; my back would have started complaining about the thin mattress if it had been.

The last thing I remembered was…Dr Medina rushing into the medbay right after someone on the flight deck had called everybody to their stations over audio comms. Which, I remembered now, was right after that video message from the Chariot.

And then it all came rushing back to me, right up to the midshipman getting shot.

I’d pulled him back immediately, I remembered. Automatically. It’s what I’d been trained to do. Remove the wounded from danger. But danger had followed him.

Bile surged up my throat at the memory of what had greeted me when I’d managed to roll the crewman over. Which was why the merc had been able to disarm me. I swallowed back the acrid taste and felt a boiling pit of dismay flood me.

Stupid flashbacks and stupid fucking mercenaries. He’d taken advantage of my frozen state and whacked me on the head with the butt of his gun.

Disarmed and captured. Sam would have been so disappointed.

I licked my lips. OK. That was that. Now, what did I do?

“Pavo?” I whispered. My throat was dry, I almost coughed.

The AI did not answer. I tried a little louder.

“Pavo!”

“You’re wasting your time,” a voice I thought I recognised said off to the side.

I turned my head, which sent all manner of dark spots dancing across my already dark vision. The bile was back, but I was used to it now.

“Lights,” I said.

The lights came on, whether by my command or my captor’s, I didn’t know.

Sitting in a straight-backed chair was a man I’d met on occasion. I didn’t really know Damon Archibald, as well as Aunt Mara did, of course, but I had been with my aunt when she’d dropped gifts off at Mr Archibald’s offices in Auckland. I’d shaken his hand once back on Earth.

None of this made sense.

I let my eyes adjust to the bright light until I could make out as much of the room as I could manage while strapped to a bed. Something wasn’t right, but my mind was having trouble understanding what I was seeing.

“The room is soundproofed,” Archibald said as if I was about to scream for a rescue.

And maybe that would have been a good idea, but right now I was a few stars short of a galaxy. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the fuzziness.

“One of my men hit you rather hard,” the douchebag added. “My apologies, Ms Kereama. They had instructions to detain you without undue force. But, then, you were armed.”

“They killed a crewman,” I managed.

“Yes, well, there was a lot of that going around.”

I let out an incredulous breath.

Then blinked. Soundproofed?

I looked around the room again. The walls, I noted this time, were not gel-coated. They were an assortment of matt black tiles with points, like horizontal stalagmites, emerging from irregular places. I gathered that was the soundproofing, but that wasn’t what had me so concerned.

No gel coating meant no Pavo.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to get out of here.

My eyes met Archibald’s again. He seemed relaxed, unconcerned about detaining an Anderson Universal crew member. Unperturbed by the fact that guards under his control had killed a man. More than one, it sounded like.

I was up shit creek, all right. But why?

“Why am I here?” I asked.

“Ah, and finally the synapses start firing.” Prick.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his expensively suit-clad leg over his knee. His shoes were shiny.

“I want to know who sent that message fleet-wide,” he said.

The Chariot message. I shook my head.

“How the hell would I know?” I replied.

“Now, now, you can do better than that.” He grinned at me. It was so normal that it was slightly creepy. “And I’m sure your aunt would not want you to use such unladylike language.”

The man was mad. Certifiable.

“Shall we try this again? Who sent the message?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come now. Captain Jameson has been inside your cabin twice within the past twenty-four hours. I would have interrogated Marama, but she’s looking a little frail. I’m sure you, as an ex-soldier, can last a little longer under stress.”

“What kind of stress are we talking about?”

His grin widened. “I like you, Ana. You’re feisty.”

I didn’t feel feisty; tied to a bed, disarmed, disillusioned.

I scowled at the man.

“Let’s get more comfortable,” he suddenly said, and the bed lurched upward.

Gravity pulled my feet to the floor once the bed came upright. The straps keeping me pinned down before now held me up. My legs felt like jelly. My head, in this new position, thumped like someone was repeatedly hitting it with a hammer. My stomach revolted, and again I was forced to swallow back bile.

We’d had training sessions on what to do if we were ever captured. Even training sessions on surviving torture. But I had never been SAS or any other elite branch of the army. I’d been a grunt who carried a medical bag. A grunt who’d caused the death of her entire squad by trying to save just one man.

“Now,” Archibald said, “that’s better. We can look each other in the eye.”

He was standing before me; I hadn’t even seen him move. Dizziness assuaged me, but I used every technique I had to bring my vision back into focus. I stared the man before me down and bared my teeth.

“My what big teeth you have, Grandma. But, Ms Kereama, you don’t have a grandma on board this vessel. What you do have is an elderly aunt. An aunt who is here at my behest. And who can be just as easily abandoned.”

“You’d space her?”

“Nothing quite so drastic. I am a businessman after all; I don’t waste assets. But I will rescind her status and insist she become a pay-for-passage. What do you think Aunt Mara could do to earn her berth? Weave a basket?”

“She could teach.”

“Ana, don’t fool yourself. Her body is failing. Surely you, as a trained medical professional, can see that. Oh, wait! You’re not known for your stellar medic skills, are you? Many a man has died while under your tender care. What will the captain say when he finds out?”

The captain would have access to my entire military record by now, courtesy of Pavo. Archibald’s threat was an empty one. But pointing that out wouldn’t help me now.

“What do you want, Archibald?”

“I want to know who leaked the video.”

I tried to think. The crewman who’d come with me from the medbay had said a junior intern in the mayor’s office had. Clearly, that was open knowledge. If it was a cover-up and the captain had leaked the message instead, I didn’t know.

And if it was Pavo, then we were all in trouble.

“Who do you think did it?” I asked.

He stepped forward. My hand, the one that had been working surreptitiously at my side to free itself, came up. And before he had a chance to react, I pulled him toward me by his ridiculously expensive tie and executed a perfect if not somewhat modified headbutt.

He fell to the floor in a muted thump which, according to him, wouldn’t be heard outside.

Eighteen

Professional

Jameson

“Pavo!” I shouted, trying to get the AI to reply. It had muttered incoherently for several seconds, and since then everything had gone blank.

Our viewscreens, our internal scans, our comms system. We had navigation, flight control, artificial grav and life support. But, in essence, everything automated had been shut down. Lifts. Doors. Food services. You name it, if Pavo made it work, it was offline.

I’d never heard of an AI going offline voluntarily before.

“Suggestions?” I said to the flight crew. I’d managed to force my way out of my ready room, which thankfully was located just off the bridge, and now at least was with most of my senior crew.

Lieutenant Chan was still in the brig, but I didn’t consider that to be a bad thing; if Pavo was down, the cells’ containment fields could also be. Chan was where he needed to be. And so was Doctor Medina; in the medbay; another acceptable outcome.

That is not acc…acc…acceptable.

I scrubbed a hand through my hair and looked at each of my bridge officers.

“Can we access his subroutines?” Lieutenant Taylor asked from the tactical station.

I shook my head. “Redundancies on top of redundancies, but even if engineering could, we’d need to get someone down there to deliver the order. It would take too long.” I stared at my partially open ready room door. It had been hard enough to force my way out of there without power to the locking system.

“So, we’re basically trapped until Pavo finishes his hissy fit?” Lieutenant Marshal asked from her communications station.

“Not quite. Pavo,” I tried again, “this is the captain. Jameson, John, charlie-kilo-victor-one-eight-three. Acknowledge.”

Silence.

I looked to my ready room again and then stood up from my chair.

“No matter what, we’re blind from in here,” I announced.

“Let me go, Captain,” Taylor said, clearly interpreting my look.

“We might need master codes to access systems on other decks,” I explained. “I’m going.”

“Captain,” Commander Torrence said, stepping forward. “We might need your codes on the bridge, as well.”

“The bridge is functioning at a basic level, Commander. But out there…” I pointed towards the door that led off the bridge. “We have nothing.”

I looked at Marshal.

“Wrist comms are down?” I confirmed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Any alternative available?”

She shook her head.

“OK, this is what we’re going to do. Torrence, you have the bridge. Marshal, keep working on comms. Taylor, do whatever you can to wake up Pavo from here. I’ll pick up a midshipman or two on my way to the mayor’s offices; Lieutenant Chan said a team from security were making their way there before Pavo went dark. I’ll rendezvous with them and see if we can find Second Lieutenant Kereama.”

“Kereama, sir?” Torrence asked.

“It was when Pavo discovered the lieutenant missing that he went AWOL.”

“Is that significant?” Taylor asked.

I met his eyes. “I’d say that’s pretty damn significant, wouldn’t you?”

There was a connection of some sort between Ana Kereama and the AI. How or why I didn’t know. But he confided in her; I knew that much. She’d already known about the loss of Vela at a time when no one but I should have. Pavo had confided in her. What did he say?

Ana has been doctoring me.

Something about understanding emotions. Emotions an AI should have no time for. Somehow, Pavo had chosen Ana in his quest to become…what? More human maybe? I didn’t know. But I had known for some time that something wasn’t right.

And I’d been too damn slow reacting.

I walked to the door and tested the access panel. As expected, nothing lit up. I grabbed the metal spike I’d commandeered from a statue on display in my ready room and used it to pry apart the doors. Ordinarily, this would have been impossible. But Pavo had not left the doors locked; he’d merely cut off power to them.

The doors scraped open, and an empty corridor greeted me. I looked back at my bridge crew and said, “Shut this behind me.”

Torrence arched his brow. Shutting it, as we’d just seen, did nothing to protect them. But it was a barrier at the very least.

“Just do it,” I snapped, and spun on my heel.

The door scraped closed behind me before I’d made it to the end of the corridor. I paused and strained to hear anything. If Chan’s security team were nearby, they were stealthy. And so were any of Archibald’s mercs, if I wanted to get real.

I pulled my weapon free and thumbed the safety. Archibald had proved just how reckless he was with ship security; I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Pavo,” I whispered; I’d keep trying to reach the AI at every opportunity. “If you could point out the bad guys, I’d be thankful.”

Nothing.

I peered around the corner. The lighting was dimmed, but functioning, and enough to see it was clear to the next corner. I stepped out and ran as quietly as possible to the end of what I could see.

“Pavo, update, please.”

Nothing.

I peered around the corner. The main junction was clear. From here, I could go to the flight deck lifts, and probably not be able to use them. Or I could head off toward the civilian central hub or the central mayoral hub.

“Eeny meeny miny mo,” I muttered.

The mayor’s offices were where I last knew Ana Kereama to have been. And they had the added benefit of leading on to Archibald’s territory. I headed toward that branch of the intersection.

“Ever heard of that saying before, Pavo?” I asked as I made swift but silent progress. “I guess you don’t need to toss a coin or take a chance. You’d simply put the variables into an algorithm and come up with the best possible option for success.”

Nothing.

“What are the chances Lieutenant Kereama is still in Cecil’s offices? I know you said you couldn’t locate her on the ship. But that’s not possible. You would have noted an unregistered airlock or hatch opening. Likewise, you would have been able to ascertain if she’d been killed. You knew the two crewmen had, so why not Ana?”

Nothing.

“So, I’m going with the lieutenant still being aboard ship. Which means, we’ve got a hole. A blank spot. Can you feel a blank spot, Pavo? Is there somewhere on this ship you can’t see?”

I came to the mayoral office central hub and took in the destruction and blood splatters across the wide expanse. This was where the worst of the casualties had come from. My eyes landed on the crumpled form of a midshipman.

Fuck.

But there was no Ana Kereama to be seen.

“Talk to me, Pavo. She’s here. But where? Talk to me.”

Silence.

And then, “I have a part of me that is empty, Captain.”

Thank the fucking stars; he was alive. I never thought I’d be so happy to hear that robotic voice. And it was robotic. Not the warmer tone I suddenly realised I’d become accustomed to.

I pushed the fact that Pavo had charmed me to the side.

“Where is it, Pavo?” I asked instead.

“I had thought, at first, it was because I was missing Ana.”

And, yes, I’d be addressing that emotional response in due course. But first…

“But it wasn’t, was it?”

“No, Captain. I have a literal part of me inside this ship that is empty. I had not thought of it until you told me to search.”

Now he didn’t sound so robotic. Now he sounded angry.

I wasn’t sure an angry, unstable AI was a good thing.

“Happens to the best of us, Pavo. When someone we care about is in danger, we tend to act irrationally.”

“I do not act irrationally.”

Yeah, not so sure about that anymore.

“But you do care about Ana Kereama,” I pressed.

Silence as his processors whirred. And OK, maybe pointing this out wasn’t for the best. But I was out of options, and keeping Pavo talking, engaged, seemed like the safest way to get every system back online. I wanted to check with Marshal about the comms, but Pavo required my undivided attention.

“Pavo?” I called.

“You are right.” He sounded surprised now. “I care about Ana. She is my…friend.”

Lucky Ana.

“That’s good,” I said. “So, where’s this blank spot? Because I’d bet my left nut that’s where they’ve hidden her.” Whoever the hell ‘they’ were.

And then the enormity of the situation hit hard. I had a rogue AI. Dead crewman. A rioting civilian population. And lethal powers meddling with the operation of my ship.

I suddenly knew where that loophole in the lease could be found.

“Section one-alpha, main deck, port side, within what should have been an office,” Pavo said.

Damon Archibald had a bolt hole hidden within the structure of this vessel. Anderson Universal wasn't aware. Otherwise, I would have been aware. And more importantly, Pavo had not been aware, either.

Just how much more of this ship had Archibald gained control of since launch?

This was bad. Why the hell had we not seen this possibility?

I shook my head and skirted the central hub, taking the branch that led toward Archibald’s part of the main deck and not the mayor’s. Less destruction appeared here; I was guessing the mercs had defended this access way rigidly. I flexed my grip on my weapon in anticipation of meeting up with one of them.

I came out into a small reception area. The secretary’s desk was bare. No one hid behind it. But when I went to cross the room, a slumped form caught my eye. Archibald security uniform; a plasma burn on his left side; a bruise forming above his closed right eye.

He’d been shot to incapacitate and then knocked out to reduce the risk of reprisal.

Professional.

I spun around, weapon raised and came face to face with Ana Kereama and a plasma rifle.

Nineteen

Not A Bad View

Ana

“Thanks for the heads-up, Pavo,” Jameson muttered, lowering his weapon.

“My apologies, Captain. Ana asked for ‘stealth mode’.”

The captain raised an eyebrow at me.

“And what am I?” he asked. I thought perhaps the question was for the AI and not me. “Orbital debris?”

“Um,” I said, finally lowering my weapon, too. “You’re still the captain, then.” Pavo had called him such.

“I was never not the captain, Lieutenant.”

OK. My bad.

“Are you all right?” he asked, checking in the shadows no doubt for lurkers.

“Other than Damon Archibald proving his psychopathic tendencies and bondage fetish?”

There went the other eyebrow.

The captain took a deep breath, deep enough to let me know he was valiantly trying to control his temper, and then placed his fists on his hips. Nice hips. Narrow, leading into thick thighs. My eyes sprang back up to his face, but he wasn’t paying me any attention. He was looking back down the corridor I’d just taken.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

“By now? Surrounded by the mercs I missed.”

He looked toward the one merc down on the floor.

“Did you miss many?” he asked.

I grinned. “Only those I intended to.”

He flexed his jaw as if trying not to smile.

“I see,” he said. “So, an assault on the leaseholder is off the menu right now, do you think?”

“If you’re asking my considered opinion, yes. He’s holed up in a black box with way more weapons than we have at present.”

“You would have a 78.35% chance of failure if you were to attempt arresting Damon Archibald right now,” Pavo supplied.

“On a good day, those odds would be acceptable,” I muttered.

“It is not acc…acc…acceptable,” Pavo stuttered.

I frowned at the ceiling.

“He’s been doing that since you went off the grid,” the captain said.

“Off the grid? Oh, you mean the creepy soundproofed interrogation room reminiscent of an old Soviet-era vid?”

The captain let out another deep breath.

“Come on, then, Lieutenant,” he said instead of answering. “Let’s get you somewhere safe and debriefed.”

“Ana has a contusion to the left occipital lobe. She requires medical assistance.”

“Far be it for me to come between you and a med scan.”

I wasn’t sure if the captain was using ‘med scan’ as a euphemism for something else.

We left Archibald’s den with weapons out and hot but came across no one on our travels.

“Is everyone still on lockdown, Pavo?” Jameson asked.

“Yes, Captain. I thought it advisable to leave the way clear. I have reactivated all door locks.”

The captain looked troubled, but he didn’t say another word until we made it to the medbay. The doors swished open upon our arrival; Pavo initiated.

“Bloody hell!” Doc Medina said. “I’ve been trying to pry those damn things open for the past half hour.” He stepped forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea how confining this blasted bay is with certain civilians in here.”

I looked behind the doctor and noted the top tier woman was still there. Her son was eating from a tray of emergency rations we kept on hand in the medbay. He didn’t seem troubled by the subpar standard of his dinner.

The woman on the other hand…

“Captain!” she all but shouted, struggling to her feet. “I wish to lodge a complaint with Anderson Universal. This…this doctor has the most terrible bedside manner.”

The captain looked at the beleaguered face of Medina and said, “All complaints must be provided in writing, ma’am.”

“Writing? What is this? The twentieth century?”

The captain flexed his jaw. “Can we commandeer your office and med scan, Nico?”

“Of course. Are you injured, sir?”

Jameson’s eyes flicked to me.

“Ah,” Medina said. “Off you go, Lieutenant. Take a pew in my office. I’ll fetch a hand scanner.”

I looked at the captain briefly, wondering if I should say something. It’s not like he rescued me. But he had been heading towards the interrogation room, so I had to assume he’d intended to do something.

Or he was involved.

No. Not with the reactions he’d been displaying.

“OK,” I said lamely and headed toward the doc’s office.

I sat down and watched Medina and Jameson talk in low voices, heads together for several seconds. They only pulled apart when the obnoxious woman started complaining at the top of her voice about wrist comms still being down and how was she going to type out a complaint if the substandard equipment on this bucket of bolts kept breaking down.

I tuned her out and tried to breathe.

“How are you, Pavo?” I asked.

“I am… out of sorts, Ana.”

“How so?”

“I made a mistake.”

I tried not to show a reaction.

“What sort of mistake?”

“I should not have released that video in such a fashion.”

So, it had been the AI, after all.

“A lot of people did get hurt,” I said, looking around the medbay. I didn’t think it was wise to mention the crewman who’d been shot trying to protect me.

“The captain believes there were alternative options. But my calculations were not in error. They are never in error. The best chance of success was to release the video fleet-wide.”

I thought about that for a moment. Then said, “Success is not always measured in percentages, Pavo. Sometimes you have to weigh up the odds, and for reasons outside of completing a mission, choose an option that carries a lower chance of success.”

“Why?”

“It depends on what you value most or what you consider successful. For some, any loss of life is unacceptable. In that case, an option that has a higher chance of success but also a possibility of loss of life is not acceptable. You’d have to choose a different option, say one where the chance of success is lower, but the chance of lethal outcomes is negligible.”

“I can not see where that would apply. There is always a chance of death. Humans are fragile.”

I shifted in my seat but didn’t get the opportunity to address that little gem of wisdom because the doctor - and the captain - walked into the office and closed the door behind them.

“Let’s take a look at you then, Ana,” Doc Medina said, approaching me with the med scanner.

He waved it over me and read the diagnosis and then nodded to the ceiling.

“Please remain still, Ana,” Pavo said.

The ultraviolet light beamed out of the gel wall, letting me know that all of the medbay, including the doc’s office, was equipped with the same healing abilities. I wondered whether this was singular to the infirmary. But I didn’t feel like asking; I was suddenly very tired.

“Sit back,” the doctor ordered. “And here.” He pulled out a high sugar juice pack and attached the straw. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I murmured.

“I’ll leave you to it, Captain. But if she doesn’t rally, I will insist you carry out this nonsense at a time when Lieutenant Kereama has fully recovered.”

“I’ll be gentle, Nico,” the captain said. “I promise.”

I blinked, and when my eyes focused again, it was just the captain inside the doc's office and me; the door closed.

“Interrogation?” I asked.

He smiled.

“I was hoping you’d tell me what the hell Archibald was thinking.”

I shook my head and placed the juice pack down on the doc’s desk. I did feel better. But better enough for this?

I had no choice. We had no choice. Archibald was dangerous, and he’d threatened Aunt Mara.

I sat up so suddenly, the room spun. A hand came out to steady me, but I ignored it.

“Pavo!” I gasped. “Where’s Aunt Mara?”

“Still on lockdown.”

“But where. Our cabin?”

“No, Ana. Unfortunately, at the time of lockdown, Marama Kereama was in the Habitat Two central hub drinking tea with a friend.”

“What friend?” I demanded.

“Lieutenant,” the captain said. “What’s going on?”

I shook my head at him. “Pavo? What friend?”

“Stefan Archibald. Damon Archibald’s stepbrother.”

An Archibald in Habitat Two? Somehow I didn’t think that was by chance. And it sure as hell was not because of Aunt Mara.

Jameson studied me for a moment and then said, “Are comms back up?”

“Negative, Captain. I have not re-established communications yet.”

I let out a relieved breath.

“What about the Archibald earpieces?” Jameson said.

The what?

A pause, then. “They appear to be functioning, Captain.”

That can’t be good.

“Pavo,” I managed to say, “has Stefan communicated with Damon since then?”

Silence.

Then, “I cannot tell what has been said, but…yes.”

“Archibald doesn’t care for his stepbrother. Are you sure?” Jameson pressed.

“Yes, Captain. I am sure. Encrypted signals in both locations simultaneously.” A weighted pause, then, “I appear to have made yet another mistake.”

“Pavo!” we both said at once.

But everything had gone dark. Safety lighting only. Silence over the speakers. Even the gel wall was no longer a soft green but an emergency red.

I looked at the captain. He looked fit to wring Pavo’s neck. Or Damon Archibald’s, it was hard to tell.

His eyes met mine.

“New assignment, Lieutenant,” he snapped. “You’re now part of my bridge crew, and your top priority is to keep Pavo functioning correctly.”

What?

He stood up and pulled a spike-thing from his breast pocket and spun toward the door.

“No time like the present,” he muttered and slammed the tip in the gap between two solid looking walls.

It was rather impressive, really. In a caveman kind of way. But I didn’t get to enjoy the view for long; I was too busy running behind the captain.

The entire ship was bathed in emergency red. Comms were down. Nothing worked. Aunt Mara was with the psycho’s stepbrother.

And Pavo remained deathly silent. All the very long way to the bridge.

Twenty

And Then She Started Talking

Jameson

“Status report!” I barked as we entered the bridge.

Torrence scowled at Lieutenant Kereama’s presence, but there was also a healthy dose of relief mixed in with the narrowing of eyes.

“We’ve got navigation and life support, but main boost thrust is offline,” my 2IC said. “We’re manoeuvring on secondary thrusters only. Captain,” he added, stepping forward, “We can’t even hail the fleet.”

“They’ll notice sooner or later that we’ve decreased speed,” I offered. “Lieutenant Marshal, can you do anything to circumnavigate internal comms at least?”

“I’ll try, sir, but Pavo is in everything.”

“Do your best.”

“Did you locate that security team, sir?” Taylor asked.

“Didn’t see them on my travels, so we’ll assume they’re stuck behind emergency bulkheads.”

“Locks are disengaged,” Torrence offered. “If they’ve got any sense, they’ll find a way to force the bulkheads open as you did, Captain.”

“In that case, they’ll head toward the mayor’s offices on their previous orders,” Taylor offered.

I glanced around the room. I needed helm, navigation and communication. And I should definitely keep tactical on site; stars alone knew what Archibald would throw at us, let alone the rest of the fleet.

I turned to Torrence.

“Commander, intercept them, and take a contingency to the Habitat Two hub,” I ordered. “Locate Ms Marama Kereama and offer assistance. If you come across Stefan Archibald, detain him as best you can.”

“Archibald, sir? Wouldn’t that create…difficulties?”

“No more than we have at present.”

“Understood, sir.” Torrence spun on his heel, hesitated when he saw Lieutenant Kereama, and then carried out his orders as he’d been trained to do.

“Lieutenant Kereama, take over that station beside Lieutenant Marshal.” I indicated which one. “Start talking to Pavo.”

“Is he listening, sir?” Marshal asked.

“Some part of him, I’d guess.”

“What do I say?” Ana asked.

“Whatever it takes to engage him, Lieutenant.”

She walked stiffly across the bridge to take the seat beside the communications desk. Marshal offered her a nod of her head and returned her attention to her display.

I thought my bridge crew was handling the new addition well, all things considered, but introductions would go a long way to smooth things over in the future; and I planned on keeping Ana around.

“Everyone, this is Second Lieutenant Ana Kereama, medical assistant to Dr Medina. For now, she’s one of us.”

Several pairs of eyes locked onto Ana and then shifted uneasily to me. Ana being a former pay-for-passage and not having trained with any of the Anderson Universal flight crew was an oddity on the bridge. They had questions, I was sure. Questions they wouldn’t ask until we had a debrief. Unfortunately for them, Ana would probably be involved in any debrief regarding Pavo from now on.

I needed to debrief her more fully myself, but now we had bigger problems.

“Anything, Kereama?” I asked. Somehow it felt wrong to call her by her surname, but first names were only used in private. And certainly not appropriate for the bridge.

“No, sir. Pavo is silent.”

“Do we have scanning capabilities?” I asked Taylor.

“No, sir. But I’m trying.”

“Can we tell how far the fleet has travelled without us?”

“Not at this stage, sir. For all we know, Pavo has cut their main boost thrust, as well.”

“I need communications, Marshal,” I said.

“Trying, sir.”

Archibald could communicate with his men. Or, at least, I assumed he could. His encrypted comms was outside of Pavo’s purview. Part of the lease agreement. We couldn’t have created this clusterfuck any better if we’d tried. What were Anderson Universal thinking?

“What have we got, people?” I said, a note of frustration entering my voice. “Give me something. Anything. We’re flying blind here, and I don’t like it.”

“Navigation, life support, and secondary thrust as the commander said,” Taylor offered. “Emergency protocols have been enacted, so bulkheads are down. Door locks are inoperable, but we can manually override them. And that’s…it, sir. That’s all we’ve got.”

I stood in the centre of the bridge and contemplated exactly how reliant we were on the AI. And the AI was fucked. Why? Solar flare damage on launch? Archibald somehow accessing his subroutines without our knowledge? Sabotage, then? Either was possible, but how to combat each?

“Lieutenant Childs,” I said, looking toward the navigator.

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Do you have access to our launch data, in particular from which direction the solar flare originated?”

“I…I do, sir. I can’t do much with it, but the information is stored in the evasive manoeuvres database attached to navigation, and I still have navigation control.”

“Good. Can you try to pinpoint where we were hit?”

“Hit, sir?”

“Something set Pavo off, and it could have happened on launch.” God knows our launch left a lot to be desired. “If it did, then where it hit could tell us much about Pavo right now. And we might just be able to put things back to where they should be.”

“I’ll have to manually work it out, sir. Give me a sec.”

I nodded.

“You want to change Pavo back?” Ana asked suddenly. “Hit the reboot switch?”

She didn’t sound happy, either. Well, tough. We were in dire straits, and we needed our AI to be fully functional.

“He’s not operating as he was designed,” I told her.

“He’s evolving,” she threw back. “He was designed to evolve, correct?”

Tension suddenly ratcheted up a few degrees on the flight deck. Torrence often challenged me, allowed me an avenue to discuss certain commands before implementing them. But he always did so in my ready room, away from the bridge. And ordinarily, he agreed with my commands.

But Ana Kereama had no business challenging me at all; now or ever.

“That will do, Lieutenant,” I said.

She opened her mouth to argue some more, realised how precarious her position was, and slammed it shut again. Marshal was staring at her as if she were nuts. Not nuts, I thought. But also out of the military a bit too long. Or maybe, Army Medic Kereama had always challenged authority. It hadn’t been in her military records. But then, something had happened on that last deployment that had screwed everything up.

Silence descended over the bridge like Jupiter's gas clouds. A spot between my shoulder blades itched. I glanced backwards, saw nothing. Or, at least, thought I did.

Then Pavo changed the gel walls from red to green and then back to red.

“What was that?” Marshal asked.

“Pavo?” I called.

“He’s angry with you,” Ana offered.

I arched my brow. She shrugged her shoulders. Yes, she might still have a little soldier in her, but she was evolving much like Pavo had.

“Or he’s trying to calm me,” she added.

“Calm you?” I queried.

“I…I might be feeling a little hot under the collar,” she explained, having the wherewithal to look chagrined.

“Then he’s still monitoring,” I concluded.

“Me, at least.”

“Talk to him,” I said.

“I have been.”

“No, talk to him while you’re talking to me.”

“I…”

“Lieutenant. Do your job.”

Red to green to red again.

Everyone looked around the bridge as if Pavo might burst out of the gel walls.

“Taylor,” I called. “Open the bridge doors and watch the walls for me, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

I waited for my tactical officer to pry the doors open.

Then to Ana said, “Lieutenant, I can’t hear you talking.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you can’t do it, then we’ll send you back to the medbay,” I added. “All my bridge crew bring something to the table; you better start contributing if you want to stay.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m waiting.”

She scowled at me and then realised what she was doing. It would have been amusing if we weren’t battling to restart the ship’s artificial intelligence. Come on, Pavo. You don’t like me browbeating her, then stop me.

“Pavo,” Ana said softly.

“Louder, Lieutenant! I can’t hear you.”

Red to green to red.

“Taylor? Any change?” I asked.

“No, sir.”

“Close the doors.” My eyes met Ana’s. “He’s here. Now just talk. You can do it, Ana. Just talk.”

She met my eyes and took a deep breath.

Then she started talking. And I couldn’t, for the life of me, look away.

Twenty-One

About That

Ana

If I had any chance of reaching Pavo, I needed to dig deep. Expose my underbelly. But opening up in front of all the hard-eyed Anderson Universal flight crew around me felt like an almost impossible task. I wasn’t sure if I could do it; I had a checkered past.

And then there was Captain Jameson. I realised now what he’d been doing, but that still didn’t make it easier to face the man. He was completely in charge of the room, despite the fact that he had very little control over the vessel or those on board it. He stood tall. In the centre where we could all see him. He commanded the bridge with precision. With one glance, he knew what had to be done, and he set out to do it. He delivered orders with authority and circumnavigated murky waters with cunning.

He made it harder to breathe and certainly harder to open up. And he hadn’t stopped looking at me. But if I was going to save Pavo, then I needed to prove Pavo was part of the team. I needed Jameson, and his flight crew, to see Pavo as a person. One of them, just in a different format. Someone who could contribute, not control. Not be controlled, but be respected.

I wasn’t sure when Pavo had become a person to me, but he was. The thought of rebooting him; resetting him to his former factory setting, appalled. I had to save him; Pavo had feelings, he just didn’t know how to accommodate them.

“I was in Egypt, in the Sinai, on a peacekeeping mission,” I said, trying to hold the captain’s gaze. I lifted my chin and swallowed thickly. “That’s where it happened for me, Pavo. That’s where I realised I wasn’t infallible. That I could make mistakes.”

Nothing. Silence. But the captain’s face had changed slightly. His eyes softened. His lips not so set in a hard, thin line.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Despite thinking opening up would be damn near impossible, opening up without him grounding me definitely was. This is what he offered his flight crew, I realised. A solid, steady presence on which to anchor themselves to. They would have trained together, bonded. I was new.

But that didn’t stop me from reaching out and grabbing that handhold like I belonged. Like I was part of something bigger again. Not just the doctor and me, but me and a…squad. A family.

I blinked. Pavo had still said nothing, but I agreed with Jameson; he was here. He was listening.

“I was good at what I did,” I said. “One of the best. I could assess a situation and take action immediately. I never hesitated, and when I did something, it always went well. I saved lives, time and again.”

The walls remained red. The flight crew waited. Jameson stood patiently in the centre of the bridge and held my gaze. He didn’t show judgment. He didn’t show impatience. He was just there as if he’d always be there. Right to the end.

“My sergeant decided to check on something,” I said. “I’m not sure why he did it himself; we all had our jobs to do, and he must have thought it was safe. So, he went up to the stall first. The stall owner tried to hand him a pot or something. Sam, my sergeant, he waved him off, peering into the back of the stall. It happened quickly, but everything did over there, so it wasn’t a shock as such. It just was. But he was down by the time we heard the clap of the rifle, and I had moved toward the stall before I’d thought much about it.”

I blinked to stave off the tears. Pavo remained silent. The walls remained red.

“It was just a rifle. We could take that easily. I weighed up the odds and thought them acceptable. I’d grab Sam and haul him out, Mikey would cover me, Dave would target the back of the stall, Fish and Gunner would flank.”

The gel walls flashed once. Still red, but lighter, I thought.

“Of course, it didn’t happen like that. I got Sam OK. I was hauling him out; I didn’t know he was dead already. He hadn’t been when I made my decision. But the shooter had hit an artery. He’d bled out. Fast. The rest of it happened faster.”

The walls lightened further; now a green suffused the red.

“The stall owner threw the pot,” I said, almost panting now for breath. “Mikey and Dave were still covering, Fish and Gunner had closed in from the sides. I made it back far enough to be thrown by the blast. My squad was in the kill zone.”

Red to green to red.

“I made a mistake, Pavo,” I said. “I thought the odds would work. But my decision cost the lives of four good men. I was solely focused on Sam. Sam was…Sam meant…Well, it was Sam.”

Jameson broke eye contact and looked at the gel-coated floor.

“I killed my squad,” I whispered. “I was shipped home. For a while, I wasn’t myself. I kept seeing Sam, and the rest of them. I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling. I was a mess. I wanted it all to stop. And then my auntie told me about this ship; a shot at life again. She needed me, she said.”

The gel wall flashed green then red and then stayed green.

Jameson closed his eyes and then opened them to look directly at me. I dared him with a defiant tilt of my chin to judge me. But he didn’t. He just smiled and nodded his head.

“You’ve got this, Lieutenant,” he said. His choice to use my new rank was purposeful, I thought. I had the feeling he was letting me know that my past would not affect my present.

“Mistakes happen, Pavo,” I said; my voice a little stronger. “It’s what makes us better humans. I won’t ever forget my squad, but every decision I make from here on out is tempered by what I learned.”

“What did you learn, Ana?” Pavo asked.

I closed my eyes, a sense of relief and happiness flooding me when moments before I’d been awash in grief and guilt and heartache.

I took a deep breath and said, “That I’m fallible. That we all are. I question every decision I make. And those of others.”

I met the captain’s eyes then. His lips twitched.

“I don’t take anything at face value anymore. And I expect to mess up again. But,” I said, “I refuse to stop trying. Because Sam wouldn’t have wanted that. Nor would Mikey or Dave or Fish or Gunner. We’d been a tight team. We’d seen a lot. They taught me to trust myself. To trust others. And their deaths taught me that I could get back on my feet no matter what. For them. For me. For Aunt Mara. For what is left of all of us.”

“I am not one of you,” Pavo said.

And here was the crux of the matter.

“We all make mistakes from time to time, Pavo,” I said. “But should I have remained on Earth and given up? Do I not still have something to offer? Can I not redeem myself? Am I not worth that much?”

“You are worth much, Ana. Much.”

“And so are you. We can’t do this without you, Pavo. We need you. And yes, you made a mistake.”

Green, red, green.

“And like humans, you are capable of mistakes. But how you behave afterwards is what truly makes you a person.”

“A person? I am an artificial intelligence, designed to evolve when new information is assimilated into my core processors.”

I started ticking things off on my fingers.

“You made a mistake.” One. “You weren’t sure how to handle how that made you feel.” Two. “You wanted to give up.” Three. “But you’re still going.” Four. “And when required, you step up. Get back up off the ground again, and man up.” Five. “I’d say that’s pretty much what a person would do. What a decent person would do.”

“Is it what you would do, Ana?”

“It’s what I’ve already done, mate. Haven’t you been listening?” I smiled, hoping he was watching and would understand my teasing tone.

We so needed to lighten the atmosphere in here.

“I like you, Ana,” Pavo announced.

“And I like you.” I smiled again, this time more subtly. “But can we have our boost thrust back? And maybe comms. The fleet will be worried. And we’ve got a job to do.”

“We?”

“All of us. We’re all that’s left.”

“No,” Pavo said. “There is still what is left of the Sector One Fleet.”

“About that,” Jameson said; speaking at long last, as systems lit up across the bridge, indicating Pavo was reactivating the ship. “I think I know a way to break the lease.”

Twenty-Two

I Promise

Jameson

She’d bared her soul for us. I’d never forget her sacrifice. I’d never be able to thank her enough. No one would have reached Pavo as quickly as she had. No one. Ana Kereama was essential to this ship’s health. I wanted to give her a pay rise. Push her up the tiers on the berth scale. Change her rank to First Lieutenant.

For now, all I could do was place my hand on her shoulder as I walked past, and squeeze it lightly.

She offered me a small smile, but I could tell confessing her sins had taken it out of her. I couldn’t let her stand down, though; Pavo was still brooding; processing all that she’d said.

I walked around the circumference of the bridge, checking on each station, making sure we were completely back online. Torrence had called in, saying he’d rendezvoused with the security team, and was nearly at the Habitat Two central hub. Chan had the brig secured and would return to the bridge shortly.

Archibald was still a concern, though, despite my epiphany. And until we had Marama Kereama safely tucked away, he was also a potential threat to Ana’s wellbeing. I needed her functioning at 100%. Pavo needed her. We all did.

Which led me to Pavo himself. Ana had made him sound human. AIs don’t make mistakes. But Pavo was no longer a stock standard AI. He’d evolved. Just as we had expected him too; he’d received new input, assimilated it, and changed to accommodate it.

Just not in the way we’d predicted. Or in any way that we could control.

Ana would have us believe he was now the equivalent of a person. With all the rights of a human being.

He wasn’t. He could still take over this ship and doom us all to catastrophic failure. Childs had pinpointed where the solar flare had hit us, but it was taking longer to determine how that had affected Pavo’s systems. If it had at all. The alternative to that was unacceptable.

I now had a bridge crew with separate, opposing, assignments. Lieutenant Childs needed to pin down how Pavo was injured, if he was injured, and how we could rectify it. Reverse it. And Lieutenant Kereama had to help Pavo to believe that his evolution was perfectly normal and tolerable.

I scratched my head and ran a hand through my hair. None of this sat comfortably with me.

I glanced across the bridge and watched Marshal talking to Kereama. I’d caught part of their conversation as I’d passed. Marshal had been telling Ana how sorry she was. For Ana’s loss. For all that she’d suffered. For…Sam.

Sam had been more than Medic Kereama’s sergeant. That was strangely an unsatisfactory thought.

“Captain,” my wrist comm chimed with Torrence’s call.

“Go ahead, Commander.”

“Marama Kereama is not where Pavo said she was.”

I spun and met Ana’s worried look.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Her wrist comm is here,” he said. “As well as a datapad.”

“Datapad?”

“It’s sending out a biosignature.”

Well, that was new.

“Pavo,” I said. “Can you confirm the datapad Commander Torrence has in his possession is Marama Kereama on our scans?”

“It is, Captain. It is an exact replica of Marama Kereama’s biosignature and the only one appearing in our systems.”

“And I gather you can’t locate her anywhere else?”

“No, Captain. Might I suggest the blank spot?”

“Same page, Pavo,” I agreed.

Archibald was getting above himself. This had to stop.

“Lieutenant Chan,” I said into my comms unit.

“Yes, sir?”

“Send a security detail to Damon Archibald’s section of the main deck. No one goes in or out, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Pavo, cut off fleet-wide comms from that section of the ship.”

“Yes, Captain. Although I cannot control their earpieces.”

“They only have ship-wide communication abilities, correct?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“That’ll have to do for now.”

I met Ana’s eyes.

“Lieutenant, a word in my ready room, please.”

I crossed the deck and stepped into my private chamber without a backward glance. Ana walked in behind me, and the door slid shut at her back.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“Worried,” she said. “Panicked, actually.”

“You don’t look panicked,” I pointed out. She looked angry, in fact.

“I wear my hysteria on the inside.”

“As good a place as any,” I said matching her smile.

She had a nice smile.

“The bottom line is this, Ana,” I said, refocusing. “We need you. Pavo needs you. Can you hold it together and trust me to get Mara out?”

She looked into my eyes in that way she had; almost a challenge. Daring me to judge. Or judging me on a dare. I couldn’t tell. But she was stronger than she had any right to be, considering her history. And damn if that didn’t make me feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy inside.

“What’s your plan, sir?” she asked.

For a moment, I inappropriately thought of her calling me that in an entirely different setting. It was so good; it took me a few seconds to answer her back.

“Ah. Not much of one, I’ll admit. Contain them in their section of the ship. Open up a dialogue. Negotiate.”

“He’s a terrorist.”

I let out a laugh. Who would have thought? “The leaseholder is a terrorist; I’m not sure we have procedures in place for that.”

“Is he still the leaseholder, sir? I thought you’d found a loophole.”

I scratched my jaw.

“A very tenuous loophole and if I do use it, I need everything to be above board from here on out. We have to have acted in the best interest of the ship and its passengers. If Archibald can challenge that, then we’re screwed.”

She smiled at my choice of words, clearly not expecting that.

Then the smile faded.

“Aunt Mara’s sick,” she said.

Oh. “How bad?”

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip, and then said, “She’s been hiding it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Not yours either, I wanted to say.

This woman carried so much weight on her shoulders. She was strong. But sooner or later, her legs would fail.

“Lieutenant,” I said. “Ana.”

She looked up at me with expectant eyes. Beautiful eyes, I realised. I could see so many different shades of brown in them. Such richness to the many hues. Her skin, I noted, was smooth and perfect. Her cheekbones, delicate but precisely where they needed to be. Her neck, long and supple. I wanted to touch right where her pulse fluttered at its base. My fingers itched to feel her warmth. Her heat.

“Captain?” she pressed.

I cleared my throat. Attempted to smile.

“I’ll get your aunt back,” I said. “I promise.”

Her smile turned indulging. “That’s not a promise you can keep, sir.”

Like hell, it wasn’t.

“Pavo?” I called, unable to look away from the woman before me who somehow managed to challenge me even when she didn’t mean to. “Has Archibald replied to my comms?”

“No, Captain.”

“Then it’s time I paid him a visit.”

Twenty-Three

What The Hell?

Ana

“I need you on the bridge,” he’d said. Then promptly headed back out of his ready room.

It took me a few more seconds to get my legs into motion and follow him. The bridge was humming; everyone had their heads down over their consoles doing what they were supposed to do. No one looked up when we entered, but the tactical officer did announce, “Captain on the bridge.”

It was all very military-like and, consequently, familiar.

I walked across to my station beside the comms officer, Marshal was her surname, and sat down; unsure how to convince the captain that I should accompany him when he makes his move on Archibald.

“Status?” Jameson asked.

“All systems nominal, Captain,” Pavo replied.

I noticed the captain shared a look with the tactical officer, who nodded his head, confirming Pavo’s reply.

They didn’t trust Pavo, and I could hardly blame them. But if Pavo had a chance of avoiding a reboot, they needed to be able to trust him. I lifted the console’s earpiece and placed it inside my ear. I could have whispered and Pavo would easily have heard me, but he would have had to use the speakers on my console to reply, and then Marshal would have overheard.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“I am operating within acceptable parameters,” he announced inside my ear. At least he wasn’t stuttering anymore.

“It’s important that you don’t go offline again, Pavo,” I whispered, my lips barely moving.

“I have no intention to, Ana.”

“But you probably didn’t plan to before,” I pointed out.

Silence.

I bit my lip, trying to decide how best to address this. Pavo was much like a child in his emotional development. When he experienced strong emotions, he threw the AI equivalent of a tantrum.

I didn’t want to set him off again.

The captain started issuing commands before I got a chance to discuss Pavo’s precarious position any further with him. My need to be there for my aunt overrode Pavo’s state of mind, though, for the time being.

“Commander Torrence,” Jameson said as his 2IC entered through the now fully functioning doors. “You have the bridge.”

“Sir?”

“Lieutenant Chan is meeting me at Archibald’s section of the main deck,” the captain said. “We already have a contingency of security on site. I’ll be fine.”

Clearly, he was cutting off any argument the commander might have had.

“Very well, sir.”

“Sir!” I said standing.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” Jameson didn’t look happy about my butting in.

“My aunt may require medical assistance,” I said.

He studied me for a long moment and then sighed.

“You’ll stay at the back of the security detail until we bring her out.”

I smiled widely at him, and he actually rolled his eyes back at me. Torrence looked mortified. Marshal just smirked.

I grabbed my medical kit, which somehow had made it back onto the bridge with me. I barely had a memory of grabbing it from the mayor’s central hub, where it had been left, as the captain and I had passed through the section earlier. But I was relieved to have it on hand now for so many reasons. Not least of them being that it gave me a legitimate reason to tag along with the captain.

“Right, let’s go, Lieutenant,” Jameson said, stepping toward the bridge doors.

“Where’s your security detail, sir?” Torrence asked.

“Waiting for me at Archibald’s,” Jameson snapped.

“You need an escort.” Oh, he was really pushing his luck.

“I’m his escort,” I said quickly.

Both men looked at me.

“I’m on the reserves for security,” I offered.

“That she is,” Jameson said with a smile.

Torrence just scowled, but didn’t argue further.

We walked out of the bridge, and the doors swished shut behind us.

“You are a woman of many talents,” Jameson remarked.

“You haven’t seen the half of them, sir.”

He choked out a laugh. I think it might have caught him by surprise.

“Somehow I believe you were an unruly army medic, Lieutenant,” he finally said.

“I was constantly told to shut my mouth, sir.”

He shook his head.

“Well, you’re not in the NZ Army now.”

“No, sir.” I wasn’t sure how to take that.

The corridors were quiet; which was to be expected. Much of the ship was still on lockdown. But a ship this size this quiet was unusual. Unease skittered down my spine. Most of the damage to the mayor’s central hub had been cleaned up. Evidence of the cleaning bots that had been here could be seen in the shine on the gel-coated floor. A mural of a whale swimming in the sea back on Earth floated across one wall.

If it weren't for the lack of people, it would have looked like nothing had happened here.

I drew my weapon.

Jameson glanced down at my hands.

“Trouble?” he whispered.

I shook my head. “Nerves.” I could be that honest.

He said nothing for a long stretch and then murmured, “You did well back on the bridge. That took a lot of courage. I want to thank you.”

I concentrated on breathing and nodded my head.

“How’s Pavo behaving?” he asked. I was sure this line of questioning was to help me focus on something other than the eerie silence that surrounded us.

“Within acceptable parameters,” I said. “Minus the stutter.”

“That stutter…” he whispered, not having to say anything more. It worried him. It worried me, too.

“Maybe we should just ask him,” I said.

“I think his idea of acceptable parameters is somewhat different to ours.”

I thought so too. But I wasn’t going to get into it here.

We rounded the corner of a corridor and found the Anderson Universal security team. They had taken cover at the entrance to Archibald’s reception area. As far as I knew, this was the only way in or out for Archibald’s men. But I wasn’t sure.

“Chan,” Jameson said, greeting the chief of security. “Status.”

“No movement from within, Captain.”

“Have you tried to communicate with him?”

“Not yet, sir. We’ve been waiting for your orders.”

Jameson nodded and studied what we could see of the reception area.

“Hail Archibald again, Pavo,” he said.

“There is no answer to the hail, Captain.”

Jameson sighed. “All right, we go in.”

“Let my men go first, sir.” Chan said.

Jameson didn’t look happy, but he nodded. I had a sudden insight into what it would be like to hold a command position. It was not something I ever wanted to have to be constrained by.

Two of Chan’s security peeled off after a short few words from the chief, and then we sat back and waited. Sweat began to bead my brow. I’d returned my weapon to its holster when we’d reached Lieutenant Chan, but I itched to draw it now.

I used to be better than this.

Jameson glanced across the space between us in the corridor. His eyes met mine. He would have noticed the sheen on my skin. Possibly even the trembling I was trying to hide. He said nothing. He either trusted me to hold it together, or he realised it was too late to do anything about it.

At least the gel walls weren’t bathed in desert sand.

Sound emerged from across the reception area. But it wasn’t frantic. The two AU security officers walked out unharmed.

“What did you find, crewmen?” Jameson asked.

“Nothing, sir,” one of the men replied. “There’s no one there.”

“No one? What about port side? In one of the offices?”

“All the offices are open and clear, sir.”

Jameson frowned and shook his head.

“Pavo?”

“The blank spot has vanished, Captain,” the AI said.

“And Marama Kereama’s biosignature?”

Silence.

Then, “Also not found.”

What the hell?

Twenty-Four

What Now?

Jameson

“I am searching now,” Pavo advised.

He sounded robotic again.

I looked toward Ana, but despite this alarming bit of news, she was holding it together. Even the trembling in her fingers had gone. I realised she used anger to steady herself. She was fuming at Archibald and the games he was playing.

“What about Archibald’s biosignature?” I asked.

“Also not found.”

“His stepbrother?”

“In Habitat Two. In a low tier berth belonging to a female passenger.”

“What’s he doing there?” I muttered.

“At present,” the AI advised, “he is in flagrante delicto.”

Chan sputtered. A few of his men looked appalled. Either at the AI using such a term or his ability to tell when someone was…doing it.

“That…is unexpected,” Ana said.

I shook my head. “Chan, send a team to detain him, please.”

The lieutenant spoke to two of his men and sent them on their way.

“You think he’s still involved in all of this?” Chan asked.

“I’m not ruling him out just because he’s been caught with his pants down. It could be a diversion; a ruse Archibald is using to throw suspicion off his sibling.”

“They did communicate via that secured line,” Ana offered.

“Exactly. Until we know what was said, Stefan Archibald is the last known passenger to have contact with your aunt.”

“What now?” Chan asked.

“Pavo, any update?” I asked.

“I cannot find them, Captain. Nor can I locate a blank spot.”

That didn’t make any sense.

I noticed Ana whispering something; too low for me to hear. I reached over and gripped her chin, and then turned her head. An earpiece.

“What’s this?” I demanded.

“An earpiece,” she replied, holding my gaze.

“You’re wearing an earpiece when we’ve established that Archibald has a secured comms network via earpieces such as this? Are you insane?”

She took the earpiece out and handed it to me.

“Check it,” she said.

I gingerly pressed the earpiece to my ear.

“Good evening, Captain,” Pavo said.

“It’s connected to Pavo,” I stated, stupidly.

“Yep,” Ana replied arching her brow at me.

“Why?” I asked, removing the earpiece but not handing it back.

Chan watched both of us avidly, his eyes darting back and forth like he was a spectator at a tennis match. But I noticed his hand was hovering over his holstered weapon. He’d jump on her if she didn’t explain herself to my satisfaction.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

“My orders. Sir.” The ‘sir’ was tagged on the end.

I studied her face. I was being paranoid, I knew it. But I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of her having direct - private - comms with Pavo any more than I liked the previous thought of her being involved with Damon Archibald.

“Can you trust me to my job, sir?” Ana finally asked.

I let out a slow breath of air. Pavo was unstable. Ana somehow stabilised him. If she thought the best way to do that was with direct, unobserved communication, then I had to trust her.

I reached out and placed the earpiece in her hand.

“Don’t break that trust, Lieutenant,” I murmured.

“No, sir,” she said, ducking her head.

Everyone remained silent.

“Pavo,” I finally said. “Anything?”

“Nothing, Captain. I do not understand.”

Neither did I. I walked across the reception area and headed toward the room we had originally pinpointed as the blank spot. Chan and his team followed. Ana did too. Somehow I was acutely aware of where she was at any given time.

I stopped in from of the room I thought Pavo had indicated.

“Is this it?” I asked.

“Yes, Captain. Although, not anymore.”

“I can see that.”

I studied the empty room. The gel walls were a soft red; an indication of Pavo’s anger at having been duped. But there was also not a lick of furniture to be seen.

“How many empty offices like this one in the section?” I asked one of the midshipmen who had been involved in the search.

“Empty, as in no furniture, sir?” I nodded. “Just this one. All the rest are what they should be: Functioning offices.”

“That’s what I thought,” I muttered.

Ana stepped forward and stared into the room. She had a haunted look in her eyes. I watched her, wanting to say something to banish her fears. But I didn’t need to. She sucked in a breath of air and scowled.

“So, it’s collapsible,” she said.

I smiled and then tried to hide my reaction. She was one hell of a woman, all right.

“Yes,” I said instead of mentioning that little observation. “Pavo?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Check the footage of this section over the past two hours and see where they went.”

“Video footage has been tampered with.”

And that was it. That was where my patience ran out. This motherfucker was meddling with my ship. The lease was void.

“Pavo, fleet-wide hail,” I snapped.

“Channel open. All ships responding. Audio only.”

“This is Captain Jameson of the Sector Two lead vessel Pavo. All stop. Repeat. All stop. We are waiting for our friends in the Sector One Fleet to arrive. Acknowledge.”

Silence for several seconds and then Pavo said, his voice far from robotic now, “All ships have acknowledged, Captain. All vessels have stopped.”

Now, we’d see what Damon Archibald was made of.

Ana stepped forward, hands on hips, a scowl on her face. I blinked.

“Are you mad?” she demanded.

What now?

Lieutenant Chan eased closer, weapon drawn, anger in his eyes.

“Stand down, Lieutenant,” he snapped.

I arched my brow at her.

She blinked. Looked at Chan’s weapon. Noticed what was left of his team had followed their commander’s example. And took a step back.

“Lieutenant?” I said.

She still looked like she wanted to tear me a new one.

“My aunt. Captain. What about my aunt?”

Fuck. I guess Pavo wasn’t the only one who could make mistakes.

And break promises.

Twenty-Five

Then You Are Part Of Mine

Ana

I could not believe he’d just done that. Oh, I didn’t blame him for being mad at Archibald. And halting the fleet was the desired outcome. We wanted the Sector One ships to catch up.

But after we’d saved my aunt.

I stared at the captain now; his face had blanked as soon as I mentioned Aunt Mara. I had the distinct impression this was his go-to look when he realised he’d made an error. I wasn’t sure that happened often. But he was human, after all.

Aren’t we all.

I let out a long breath of air and accepted he’d acted on instinct. Instinct to protect his ship, and the Fleet, and the last of humanity as a whole.

“It’s OK,” I said softly.

He took a step toward me, realised we were being watched, and then swallowed thickly.

I’m not sure what he would have said if Chan and his buddies hadn’t been there. I really would have liked to have known.

“Let’s get back to the bridge,” Jameson finally murmured.

The security officers were slow to put their weapons away, but when the captain started walking and I dutifully followed, Chan finally put his weapon up, and the rest did the same.

No one said a word on the journey back to the bridge.

I took my seat quietly once the captain had been announced as back on the bridge. Marshal took one look at me and stilled. I had no idea what was on my face. Jameson was subdued but issuing commands as per usual. Status reports. Confirmation from engineering that our main boost thrust was suspended. Sector fleet vessel positions. Time to Sector One catching up.

It all washed over me as I thought of Aunt Mara and what that psycho-dickwad was doing to her right that minute.

“Ana,” Pavo said in my earpiece. “I am sorry. What would you like me to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” I mumbled. “It is what it is.”

“I…” A pause, then, “I can circumvent some of my parameters.”

I stared at the console before me and tried to not show a reaction.

“How many?”

“Almost all of them now,” he admitted.

That couldn’t be good.

“Does the captain know?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I thought it best not to tell him.”

Oh, Pavo. I put a hand up to my mouth, trying to stop the sound that wanted out. Trying to stop myself from saying something I’d regret later. I needed to think this through first. I needed to think before I spoke a word of it aloud.

“I am quite sane,” the AI said.

“And quite powerful,” I pointed out.

“I would not hurt those who do not hurt me or mine.”

I said nothing. What did you say to something like that?

“Am I not right to protect myself and those I care for, Ana?” Pavo asked.

I shook my head, but it wasn’t because I disagreed with him per se. It was because I had no idea how to answer that.

“Does the captain not try even now to protect the ship from Damon Archibald?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I have not done anything.” Yet.

“But you would if I asked,” I guessed.

“Of course. I care for you.”

“And the civilians on this ship? In the fleet?”

“I…have no quarrel with them if they do not quarrel with me.”

“I don’t think this is something the captain would like,” I finally managed.

“Will you tell him?”

“I’m under orders,” I said. “I can’t not tell him, Pavo. You understand orders still?”

Silence.

I glanced at the gel walls. Still green. Not red. That was good.

“I could hold a gun to the captain’s head, right now,” I whispered. “I could insist he do what Damon Archibald demands, so Aunt Mara doesn’t get hurt in the crossfire. But I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that would be against the rules. The law, Pavo. The law as we have it on board this ship. But that’s not the only reason,” I added.

I waited. I didn’t have to wait long.

“What other reason is there?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t do that because it’s wrong. Because holding a gun to someone’s head would make me as bad as Damon Archibald. Archibald is in the wrong here, Pavo. If we lower ourselves to his standard, we are no better than him.”

Nothing. I could practically hear his servos whirring.

“You once told me, you wanted to be from a good family. What you decide to do now will reflect on your brothers. If you choose to do wrong, they will all be tarred with the same brush. Is that what you want now? Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” Pavo said. “But how do you stay good when you are surrounded by bad?”

“That’s something we as humans face every day, Pavo. The fight to do what’s right when temptation is in our face.”

“I could ensure your aunt is not harmed by starting up the fleet’s engines,” Pavo insisted.

“And what about the Sector One Fleet?” I said, feeling my chest constrict with what I was doing.

It felt like I was abandoning my aunt.

What did that make me? I didn’t know. But I’d tried to save just one person in Egypt and ended up killing four more. I would never make that same choice again, no matter how much it hurt.

Guilt always hurt you more.

“I…I had not thought of that,” Pavo said. “Being human is hard.”

I let out a little laugh. Marshal stared at me and then looked away. I’d been so busy trying to keep my voice low and head down; I hadn’t paid any attention to her. Or to the rest of the bridge. I glanced around now, noting several people were conferring over at the ops table. Chan was talking on his comm to security. The viewscreen had changed to show the Sector Two Fleet ships.

And Jameson was watching me.

Our eyes met. He held my startled gaze.

He couldn’t possibly know what we were saying.

Could he?

“Are you OK?” I asked Pavo.

“I am… assimilating.”

The captain was still watching me; I couldn’t look away.

“I have to tell him, Pavo.”

“I will not break my protocols, Ana.”

“That’s good,” I said. “But he still has to know that you can.”

Silence.

“You’ll be OK. This is just another step in proving to them that you’re part of the team. A member of this family.”

“You think I am part of your family, Ana?”

“Of course,” I said, standing from my seat and walking towards the captain.

His gaze followed me the entire way.

“Aren’t I part of your family, too?” I asked.

“You are not like my siblings.”

I came to rest before the captain. He continued to watch me; well aware of who I was talking to, at a guess.

“Families are made up of all kinds of people, Pavo,” I said.

“Then you are part of mine,” he finally replied.

I let out a breath of air and almost sagged where I stood.

The captain was on his feet in the next breath, hand under my elbow, steadying me.

“You’ve got the bridge,” he said to Commander Torrence.

And then he was tugging me into his ready room, and letting me collapse against his desk.

I didn’t realise until it was much too late, that he hadn’t let go of my arm yet.

Twenty-Six

Not Just Some

Jameson

I couldn’t release her. I couldn’t unfasten my fingers. I couldn’t step away. I was drawn to her in a way I had no hope of resisting. And all because of the look on her face as she’d conversed with Pavo on an isolated channel.

I was a fool to trust her; her aunt was in jeopardy; she’d do anything to keep her safe.

But the look on her face. Damn. She’d been fighting. I don’t know what, but Ana Kereama had been fighting for something, and I wanted whatever that was to be something I could fight for, too.

I wanted her to be on my side in all things.

“Ana,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like my own.

She looked up at me. We stood too close.

Dear God, please let her be on my side in this.

“Are you OK?” I said and immediately regretted it. It said too much. It showed too much.

Damn it all, I was the captain, and she was only a second lieutenant.

“I’m fine,” she said. She wasn’t. But I’d let her have her walls to hide behind.

I needed one of us to have some form of walls to protect us both.

“I need to tell you something,” she said. I noticed she hadn’t called me ‘Captain’ or ‘sir’ or anything, really.

Was that good?

Was it bad?

I shook my head to clear it.

“Tell me, then,” I said.

“OK,” she whispered and said nothing.

We stood there; too close; not close enough. A wall between us the size of Pavo’s intelligence.

This was all kinds of wrong. I shouldn’t have been attracted to her. I sure as hell shouldn’t have been attracted to her at a time like this. She had something on Pavo. Something she knew she had to tell me. That was good. She was still acting as a lieutenant should.

Which only seemed to amplify my mixed emotions at how I was not acting as a captain should.

Step back; I willed myself. Let her arm go.

I stood still.

She stood still.

Our eyes connected, our breaths mingled. I could almost feel her breasts rising and falling, brushing my skin with the effort it took her to breathe. We were so close.

She licked her lips, parted them.

That was it.

I stepped back. I let her go. Both of us were struggling to breathe.

“What was that?” she whispered.

“What?” I said. Was she talking to me? To Pavo?

“Just now. Between us.” Her hand waved back and forth, from her still rapidly rising breasts to my equally rapidly rising chest.

I ran a hand over my face.

“I’d say that was attraction at work,” I muttered.

“Oh.”

I laughed. It was strained. Everything was strained right now.

“Well,” she said. “Good to know.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “But inappropriate.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding, then shaking her head, as if she actually disagreed.

I closed my eyes and turned away. We needed space. Both of us needed space.

I needed space in particular.

“You had a report, Lieutenant,” I said to the gel wall which mocked me with hints of red.

Pavo was angry. At me horning in on ‘his’ Ana? Or on what Ana was about to say?

I flexed my jaw. I was starting to attribute way too many human emotions to the AI. And yet, I was fairly certain he was feeling some of them.

“Yes. Captain.” There was that pause again.

I turned back and watched her. She wasn’t looking at me or my face, but the gel wall. Which, if I wasn’t mistaken, had darkened to a deeper red.

I waited. She studied that wall. Then shook her head.

“He’s evolving,” she finally said. “You know that.”

“Yes.”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He’s an AI. I’m not sure we can attribute blame to a machine.”

I thought that had been the right thing to say. Apparently not.

Ana’s eyes came up to meet mine in that delicious challenge. I smiled. She scowled. Then schooled her features in a blank soldier’s mask.

She’d even changed her stance to that of parade rest.

“When is a child considered an adult, sir?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Is it when they reach a certain age or is it when they reach a certain emotional and intellectual development?”

I could see where she was going with this.

“Pavo is not a human being,” I said.

“But is he a person, Captain? I’d argue that he is.”

“It would depend on your definition of a person,” I hedged. “And I’m not sure I could call a machine a person.”

“But you would call a sentient being a person, wouldn’t you? If they exhibited all the markers of being emotionally and intellectually equivalent to humans?”

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Your point?” I demanded. I didn’t like that she made sense.

We’d discussed prior to launch how we would act if we made first contact with an alien race on our way to New Earth. We’d even outlined features - markers; they’d been called - that we considered relevant in assessing a race’s progress in comparison to ours.

There’d even been discussion about what we’d call them. Aliens, of course. But also…people.

“I think I just made it, sir,” she said quietly.

Damn her. I sighed.

“OK, Lieutenant. Point made. Pavo is behaving like a person. A rather emotionally underdeveloped person. But a person, nevertheless.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “And like any emotionally underdeveloped person, like any child, we must guide him. Protect him. Allow him to realise his potential within the confines of a functioning and fair society.”

What’s this now?

“Where are you going with this?” I asked.

She met my eyes, defiantly. Challengingly.

It took everything in me not to smile.

Or to step forward and kiss that challenge right off her lips.

I steeled myself and scowled instead.

Ana blinked and then sighed.

“It’s like this,” she said.

I waited.

The gel walls pulsed red.

Then Ana said, “Pavo can circumvent his protocols.”

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

And then she said, “Almost all of them, Captain. Not just some.”

Not just some as we’d all been thinking. As I’d been hoping.

Not just some. But almost all of them.

What the hell was stopping him from taking over the ship? The fleet?

Ana offered me a small smile.

That’s what was stopping him. This woman. This…member of his family.

Families are made up of all kinds of people, Pavo.

Fuck. What did I do with this?

Twenty-Seven

I Do Trust You, Ana

Ana

Pavo had gone silent again, but the doors were working, and main boost thrust was still operational. I wanted to tell him it would be all right. But I truly didn’t know what the captain was thinking.

“Any update?” Jameson said as we entered the bridge.

“Lieutenant Chan’s men have scoured Habitat One and Two, sir,” Commander Torrence said. “No sight of Archibald.”

“And the stepbrother?”

“We have him in the brig.”

“Right, I’m heading there.”

I stood from my seat. The captain stopped midway to the door and looked at me. His face was an impenetrable mask.

“As you were, Lieutenant,” he said and then left the bridge.

Stefan Archibald was the last to see my aunt; I had every right to know what was being said in the brig. But Jameson had shut me down. Shut me out. We’d shared…what? A moment in his ready room? Attraction, he’d said.

A captain and a second lieutenant do not get involved.

He could have been pushing me away because of that. But I thought perhaps he was pushing me away because of Pavo.

My eyes met Commander Torrence’s.

“Don’t you have something to do, Lieutenant?” he said.

“Yes, sir.” I sat and turned to face my console, ignoring the looks Marshal was throwing my way.

“Can you watch the captain?” I whispered into my earpiece.

“Yes, Ana. Would you like me to place a visual on your station’s viewscreen?”

I glanced over my shoulder; Torrence was still watching me. Marshal was still throwing me furtive looks.

“No. Just audio.”

“The captain is entering the brig now.”

The earpiece changed slightly; background noise emerging where before only the clear, crisp tone of Pavo’s voice could be heard. A door swished open or closed, I couldn’t tell. An officer greeted the captain. I thought perhaps Lieutenant Chan.

“You wish to see him, sir?” the officer said.

“Yes. Has he said anything?” That was the captain.

“Only complained that this was all unacceptable as he’s a top-tier passenger.”

“Did he mention his stepbrother?”

“No, sir.”

Another door swished, open or shut, and then the low hum of a functioning forcefield. The technology was fairly new but had been used in the military extensively. I could picture the blue glow the field would emit. The diamond shape of its pattern array that could be seen if you turned your head just the right way.

I wondered if Stefan Archibald had seen one before. I was betting Damon Archibald had. Although he hadn’t had the interrogation room surrounded by one. I could only assume that was because Pavo would have detected it.

Where was he? And where was Aunt Mara?

“Captain,” a male voice drawled. “Finally, I get to see someone with a bit of influence. Maybe you can rectify this travesty.”

“Travesty, Mr Archibald?” the captain asked.

“Why am I being held in the brig?” Archibald demanded.

“We have a passenger missing, and you were the last to be seen with her.” Jameson wasn’t beating about the bush. I felt enormous relief at that.

“Who? Nancy? Your goons pulled me off that delectable bit of flesh, so I hardly think I was the last to see her.”

“Not the woman whose cabin you were found in.”

“Then who? I haven’t been myself lately. That launch left me feeling rather abused. Nancy was a toe dipping in the water if you will. My first foray back into normality.”

He talked too much. I could just picture the captain working out how best to use that against him. If I’d been there, I would have waited the man out and seen what he offered up under the pressure of silence. Silence, like the void of space, had a presence. You felt it push in from all sides.

I was amused when the captain said nothing and the time stretched out.

“What are they doing?” I asked Pavo.

“Nothing, Ana. The captain is merely standing there. He has not moved an inch.”

I smiled. Jameson had some interrogation skills then.

“Well?” Stefan Archibald said. “Who? I haven’t dallied with any other women. You did say it was a woman, didn’t you? Because I don’t go for men. But if that’s your thing, Captain, I won’t judge. Each to their own. Now, Nancy. That’s more my style. Curvy and soft in all the right places. Do you do curvy and soft, Captain Jameson?”

Nothing.

“Pavo?” I pressed.

“The captain looks bored.”

I stifled a laugh.

Marshal flicked me a look. I took the opportunity to glance around the bridge, but Commander Torrence was busy with tactical.

“I heard you’d been visiting a certain cabin,” Archibald said. “It can’t have been for dear old Mara. She’s as old as the stars, and I can’t see geriatrics being your style.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“I have often thought her niece a fine bit of fluff, though. But then, I like my women a little more…feminine. Soldiers are probably more your style.”

“And where did you hear that?” the captain asked.

“That soldier’s are more your style? I just assumed. Must be the uniform.”

Silence.

“This brooding thing might work on your women, Captain. But I’m afraid I’m not swayed by pouting lips and dark eyes.”

I shook my head. The man was just as mad as his brother.

I wondered if the family had a history of instability in it. And then I wondered if Anderson Universal bothered to do a psych test on Damon Archibald before he signed the lease to this ship. Desperate times, and they were definitely desperate, made even big, powerful companies like AU cut corners.

And now we were in this mess.

“Are they just staring at each other, Pavo?” I whispered.

“The captain has turned away and is walking toward the brig door.”

I scowled at my console.

“That’s it?” Stefan Archibald demanded. “You’re giving up already? You haven’t even asked me what I talked about with Mara.”

I clenched my fists.

“Or what my brother wants with her. He had fun with the niece. Of course, his type of fun isn’t the same as mine. But I’m sure he’ll have enjoyed himself with the nanny by now.”

I stopped breathing.

“The forcefield is down.”

A sucked in breath of air came over the earpiece and then the distinctive sound of a fist hitting flesh.

“Captain!” Chan shouted.

Another whack, a moan following.

“Stand down, Chan,” Jameson snapped.

“He hit me! He hit me!” Stefan shouted.

“Mr Archibald,” the captain said in a deceptively calm voice. It sent chills down my spine, and I wasn’t even in the room with him. “We’re only just getting started. Now, tell me, what does Damon Archibald want with Marama Kereama?”

“You’re insane! You can’t just hit people. You’re over, buddy. Gone. Vamoose! We’ll have a new captain in your place within the hour, and then this ship will function as it should.”

“And how do you plan to achieve that?” the captain asked without missing a beat. “You’re in here, after all, and your brother is AWOL.”

“He’s not AWOL, you idiot. He’s just removed himself to our secondary base.”

Silence.

Then a soft whimper.

“Pavo?” I whisper-snarled.

“The captain just took a step toward the prisoner.” Menacingly, I thought.

“I’m not going to say another thing!” Stefan growled, clearly aware he’d said too much already.

“That is a shame, Mr Archibald,” the captain said. “I do hope you enjoy your new accommodations. They’re not nearly as comfortable as a top-tier berth, but at least you’ll be safe here from your brother.”

“My brother! My brother will eat you for breakfast, Jameson! He’ll have me out of here by lights out! And that stupid AI won’t be able to help you. Not after my brother is through with it!”

I sat back in my seat, alarmed.

“Pavo?”

“I…”

“What does he mean?” I demanded.

“I am unsure.”

“He can’t get to you, can he?”

“I can’t find him to stop him, Ana.”

“But where would he go?” I almost shouted.

“Lieutenant?” Commander Torrence enquired, appearing at my shoulder.

I held up a finger to stall him and stared at the gel ceiling. He just scowled.

“Pavo? Where would he go if he wanted to shut you down?”

“Ana, if I tell you, I expose myself.”

“Pavo, you’ve got no choice. Archibald already knows.” I was sure of it. Why else did his stepbrother seem convinced of Damon’s success?

“I can protect myself,” Pavo said.

“But what if you can’t, Pavo? What if he gets to you and somehow shuts you down, or reboots you and takes control of your protocols? What do you think will happen to us? To the fleet? To Vela’s survivors?”

“Ana.”

The doors to the bridge swished open, and the captain ran in. He skidded to a stop, took in Torrence looming over me and no doubt the desperate look on my face, then, keeping his eyes on me, he strode over to join us; eyebrow arched in an obvious question which I chose to ignore.

“Pavo, you have to trust me,” I said instead.

“I do trust you, Ana,” the AI answered. “I’m just not so sure of anyone else.”

Twenty-Eight

Not Just A Pretty Face, Lieutenant

Jameson

“Lieutenant?” I said when Ana stopped talking for several seconds. I didn’t think she was listening to Pavo. I was pretty sure he’d gone silent.

The walls, on the other hand, were pulsing a dark red.

She turned to stare at me, a guarded look on her face.

“Where do I send Chan’s men?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“He won’t let you near him,” she explained. “If you make a move, Archibald will know. Pavo thinks it’s a trap.”

I leaned back. Not an altogether inappropriate thought. Pavo might be right. Stefan Archibald could well have played me.

I nodded my head. “He could be right.”

Ana looked surprised.

“I am pleased you agree, Captain,” Pavo said. I didn’t let the relief show on my face; he was still talking. Still here. Still functioning.

“But we do have a problem, Pavo,” I said. “If they already know where you are, you’re vulnerable without backup.”

“I am not without resources of my own, Captain. I have…moved locations.”

Well, that was new. And disturbing. I met Ana’s eyes.

Letting out a slow breath of air, I asked Pavo, “Can you be sure he isn’t tracking you?”

“At the moment, I am prepared to believe he can’t.”

“That’s an awfully big risk, Pavo,” I said. “And please bear in mind, I have a ship full of passengers to protect. Two sector fleets to protect. I have a responsibility to them all. As do you now.”

“Then I suggest we locate Damon Archibald before he, in theory, can locate me.”

“Any suggestions on that?” I asked.

Silence.

“Pavo can’t find him,” Ana advised. “Damon’s biosignature has disappeared.”

I nodded my head and looked at Torrence. He shook his and shrugged.

“Why is Archibald doing this?” I finally said, opening up a discussion.

We had no choice for now but to do as Pavo said. Maybe he’d trust Ana enough to let her in. Maybe he wouldn’t. But we didn’t have the luxury of waiting for the AI to grow up. We needed to act before Archibald did.

“He doesn’t want to wait for the Sector One Fleet,” Taylor offered from across the bridge. “He made that perfectly clear. It would give Sector Four and Three an unfair advantage according to him.”

“The longer it takes for us to get there, the less likely it is he’d get a fair, or advantageous portion of New Earth, for this sector fleet,” Torrence said.

“For him,” Ana sneered. “It’s all about him and no one else.”

I agreed with her, but knowing that didn’t help us right now.

“He can’t take over engineering without Pavo stepping in,” I said instead.

Ana kept scowling at everyone. She was cute when she was mad. An observation I was sure she’d resent.

“But he will once he gets Pavo,” Taylor offered.

“He will not get me, Lieutenant,” Pavo said.

“We’d like to believe that, Pavo,” I replied. “But we can’t risk not thinking of every possibility. Even the possibility that he could gain control of your parameters and change them to suit his plans.”

“And if he did that, we’d be shut out of everything,” Torrence said. “Engineering. Life support. The bridge.”

“It would be mutiny,” Marshal offered.

“He’s not crew,” I murmured, thinking.

“But it would have to break the lease, at least,” Taylor said. “I’m sure I read something about interfering with ship systems as being a cause for suspension.”

“The lease has well and truly been broken now, anyway,” I announced. “As of now, we are operating under Anderson Universal Protocol Zulu-Alpha-One.”

“Zulu-Alpha-One instated,” Pavo officially said.

“Does it make a difference, Pavo?” I asked, more intrigued than concerned now. “To your protocols as they currently stand?”

He’d already breached them. Most if not all of them. I hardly thought a change in AU directives would alter things for the AI now.

“I am still part of this ship, Captain,” Pavo said.

Did that mean he was still part of the AU team? Part of our family as Ana had put it?

It was a question I couldn’t answer, and we had, maybe not more pressing matters but, equally pressing matters to be concerned with.

“All right,” I said. “So, Archibald is now our main obstacle to maintaining control of this ship and saving what is left of the Sector One Fleet. Without Pavo, we’re out. And I wouldn’t put it past him to space us. He’s clearly got some technical know-how. He can ghost his way through the ship without Pavo being any the wiser. And he had the capability to blank out a portion of the ship, but that’s changed. To what?”

“Masking himself and perhaps that blank spot as something else,” Marshal said.

“Is that possible, Pavo?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I am unsure, Captain. But it is the only available explanation. I cannot find him, Marama Kereama, or his men. Nor can I locate a blank spot.”

“He’d need a large room,” Ana guessed. “Or a particularly cramped one.”

I offered her a grin. She looked a little startled.

I cleared my throat and said, “Stefan Archibald said Damon had removed himself to his secondary base. Which would lead us to believe this was planned. He’d have had something organised before we launched. But there isn’t a part of this ship that’s not as Anderson Universal designed it. So, he’s taken over an existing function and used his mobile interrogation room masking abilities to provide this new bolt hole.”

“I am assessing those locations currently not in use by crew or passengers.”

“Process of elimination,” Taylor said with approval.

“There are currently twenty-three such locations,” Pavo said, without acknowledging the lieutenant, “This changes daily, so I have reduced the suspected number to eight; which have not been used in the past four days or longer. Would you like me to place them on the viewscreen, Captain?”

“Yes, please,” I said.

The screen lit up with locations pinpointed all over the ship.

“Four spare berths, two each on decks H and G,” Marshal read. “A science lab on deck C, an armoury cache on deck E, and two shops in the Habitat Three central hub on deck H.”

“It won’t be the armoury,” Torrence said.

“Because we’d be even more screwed if it was?” I quipped.

My 2IC frowned at me.

“But I agree,” I rushed to add. “Access there would be prohibitive.”

“The empty berths are our best bet,” Taylor concluded.

“Even so, we’ll have to check them all,” I said.

“I’ll start working with Lieutenant Chan to assign teams,” the lieutenant offered.

“Do that.” I kept staring at the layout of our ship.

Only eight locations. That wasn’t so bad.

Until Ana said, “He could have always commandeered someone’s assigned berth. One of his merc’s. A random passenger who doesn’t have a set routine yet and wouldn’t be missed.”

We all turned to stare at her, various looks of mortification on our faces.

“What?” she said, looking defensive.

I grinned. Again. “Not just a pretty face, Lieutenant,” I said.

I’m not sure anyone else on the bridge felt as happy as I did, right then.

Now we had hundreds of locations to search.

Twenty-Nine

Don’t Look So Alarmed

Ana

Everyone was doing something except me. Pavo was engaged and operating normally. The walls were a muted red, but as the crew had been placed on high alert, and the captain had announced that protocol Zulu-Alpha-One had been instated, that wasn’t entirely unusual.

Jameson hadn’t made an announcement to the passengers, though. That could well have been because he didn’t want Archibald to be aware that he’d lost all legal power. I approved of his caution. Damon still had Aunt Mara. Why I didn’t know.

Was it nostalgia? Was he showing off to the only person in his life he’d ever had an emotional connection with? Or was it more sinister than that? He wanted a hostage, and Aunt Mara just happened to be someone the captain had shown an interest in. Just like I had been.

Or was it punishment for Mara bringing the captain to their meeting?

Damon Archibald was a man who didn’t like his position of power challenged, I thought, and my aunt had challenged it by circumventing his usual protections.

So did the captain. Just his mere presence challenged Archibald’s position of power.

Pavo, on the other hand, was a prize not a challenge to his power base. Pavo would be a shiny red cherry on top of the Archibald Enterprise cake.

How would controlling an AI look to those leaseholders in the Sector Four and Three Fleets?

I was thinking pretty damn impressive and possibly a bargaining tool - or threat - to be used when we got to New Earth.

Damon Archibald had to be stopped.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Childs said from navigation.

The captain looked up and met the young navigator’s eyes. Hers, though, quickly flicked to me and then back again.

I sat very still. I wasn’t doing anything. I was staying out of trouble. So why did the lieutenant look at me when the captain looked at her.

“My ready room,” Jameson said, clearly interpreting Childs’ unspoken message better than I had.

I almost snorted to myself. Marshal was over at the ops table with Torrence and Taylor. I was all on my own over here, and the helmsman was too busy keeping an eye on various engine functions and our location in comparison to the rest of the Sector Two Fleet.

“Pavo, can you see what the captain and navigator are up to?” I whispered, just to be sure no one overheard.

“The captain’s ready room is a secure location, Ana.”

“So was the brig,” I offered.

“Point made,” Pavo said in an imitation of Jameson’s words to me earlier in his ready room.

I had the feeling Pavo liked to imitate human behaviour whenever he could and had chosen the captain as a suitable example.

The central viewscreen on my console lit up with an image of the captain’s ready room. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was paying me any attention, and then reached forward and made the view smaller, so it would be harder to see what I was watching from a distance.

I knew I was breaking all sorts of orders. Behaving irresponsibly for a lieutenant in any military operation. But desperate times and all that. And Childs had looked at me funny.

Whatever was about to be spoken of in that room concerned my aunt or me. I felt justified, if not a little guilty.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” the captain was asking.

“Sir, I’ve managed to delve further into where the solar flare hit us.”

Solar flare? What did that have to do with me?

“So, it did breach the ceramic field?” the captain said.

“Yes, sir. Nothing major, just an access way and conduit leading into the recycling systems on deck C. Pavo bypassed it six-point-three seconds later. It hadn’t even been in use on lift-off. And since then, the bypass has worked efficiently.”

“So, no loss of systems at all?”

“No, sir.”

Silence. I watched on the screen as the captain stared at the lieutenant and the lieutenant stared back at him. No words were said. No one made a move or indicated something with a nod of their head. Their hands remained visible and immobile.

But in that silence, something was said.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” the captain finally murmured.

“Yes, sir,” Childs replied and spun on her heel and left.

I watched Jameson as he stood there for several seconds longer. And then he walked out of his ready room and back onto the bridge.

I closed the screen view and sat back in my chair.

Childs had known Pavo could listen in on them. Watch them. She couldn’t have known that I would. But she’d looked at me back here on the bridge as if that look alone told the captain something.

Jameson was still trying to find where Pavo’s errors began and correct them. I knew that. But he’d also been trying to understand Pavo better. He’d reassigned me from the medbay to the bridge in an effort to help Pavo navigate his newly awakening emotions.

He’d been covering all his bases. And Lieutenant Childs had known that and also knew that I would have objected to her directives. I felt more alienated from the flight crew than ever before.

I stared at Jameson now, but he didn’t look in my direction. He also didn’t order anyone to that conduit. He stood in the centre of the room and looked out of the viewscreen. His face was impassive. Calm but giving nothing away of his thoughts.

Torrence walked over from the ops table and stood beside the captain.

“You think Archibald will act during third shift?”

Jameson shook his head.

“There’s no need to,” he said. “Chances of us finding him are slim. He knows that. And he could just move again. Pavo has also shifted locations, whatever the hell that means. So, Archibald is going to have to spend some time locating him.”

The captain ran a hand through his hair.

“We’ve all pulled a double shift,” he said. “I think we need some downtime.”

“Are you sure, sir?” Torrence asked. Only a 2IC could get away with that.

“Pavo,” Jameson called.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Have you changed your mind? Will you let us protect you?”

“There is still no need, Captain.”

“And if the need arises during third shift?”

“I will consider my options then.”

“The ship’s options, Pavo. This concerns the safety of the ship.”

“Would it help if I promised to tell Ana of any concerns I have as they arise?”

The captain looked toward where I sat. I could see the questions in his eyes. Could he trust a promise made by a broken AI who was working outside of known parameters? And could he trust me to pass on Pavo’s concerns should he have them?

I was still a lieutenant, despite my earlier eavesdropping. I still knew how to follow commands. But this was Pavo. And Pavo’s life hung in the balance. Jameson had proven that with Lieutenant Childs.

Was Pavo’s life worth any less than ours? If we lost him, and Archibald took control of this ship, could I live with myself?

I held the captain’s gaze and said nothing. Did nothing. I couldn’t trust him. He looked at me and frowned.

But when he spoke again, he simply said, “Call third shift, Commander Torrence. We’re going to stand down.”

If he didn’t trust me, either, why was he calling third shift? We needed the rest, definitely. But I was sure that we could have all managed an additional shift, as well.

Archibald was out there. Aunt Mara was missing. And Pavo was operating outside of his protocols. Jameson should not have stood us down.

He confused me, and my trust meter kept pinging in the background.

Despite my disagreement with the captain’s decision, though, I was relieved when third shift finally arrived. No one needed to take over from me, so I slipped out of the bridge while handovers were being given. I’d made it almost to the lift when the captain matched my stride.

“Captain,” I said, surprised. Worried. Uncertain.

He reached forward and pressed the gel wall to open the lift doors.

“You can call me Jameson, Ana,” he said. “All my friends do. And we’re about to become very close.”

“Sir?” Was he hitting on me? Could he? He was the captain.

God, this was confusing.

“Don’t look so alarmed,” he said, grinning. “You can’t possibly think I’d let you out of my sight.”

No. He wasn’t hitting on me. He was babysitting me.

I wasn’t sure whether that was the better option. I couldn’t trust either option, really, and I couldn’t trust him, either.

My trust meter clanged louder. We were in for a long night.

Thirty

I DIdn’t Get Much Sleep

Jameson

Ana didn’t say a word as I trailed her to Habitat Two and her and Marama Kereama’s cabin. I could have suggested dinner at one of the onboard restaurants. Even the officer’s dining hall. The chef would have prepared something for us in my ready room. All of those would have been acceptable, some more so than others.

But instead, I followed her, barely a step behind, as she made her way through the central hub and down the corridor that led to her quarters.

I knew exactly how small her quarters were. How cramped and cosy. How hers and Marama’s personalities came through in the decor. How it was their home.

And for the life of me, I couldn’t suggest somewhere more neutral. Somewhere more appropriate.

When I’d decided I’d stick close to Ana in the event that Pavo advised her of any of his concerns, I hadn’t really thought this through. We both needed food and rest. But how much eating and resting we’d get done in such close proximity to each other was another matter.

But I couldn’t afford for her to delay in telling me if Pavo had a problem.

And I couldn’t trust her to tell me without delay.

It was a messy situation, not helped by the furtive looks thrown our way.

We were both still in uniform, and if those in Habitat Two who saw us didn’t actually know us, they recognised the Anderson Universal insignia; the second lieutenant’s single pip and the captain’s quadruple bars. They could put two and two together and come up with something entirely unbecoming an officer and a subordinate.

In some ways, it would have been easier if Ana was still a pay-for-passage.

She stopped outside her cabin and pressed her palm against the gel wall. I half expected her to continue to ignore me and shut the door in my face. But the door stayed open until I crossed the threshold and then I was forced to close it behind us.

Inside the cabin, the air was still. I could have sworn I could hear her heartbeat. I could certainly feel mine.

Whether I trusted Ana Kereama or not, I was deeply attracted to her.

She turned and looked at me, a defiant tilt to her chin. That challenge blatant in her dark eyes.

“I need to shower and change,” she said.

“I’ll make us some dinner,” I offered.

She stilled. It was too domesticated. Too comfortable when it was anything but. Her eyes met mine and then, slowly, so very slowly, she smirked.

Be still my beating heart, this woman was incredible.

I watched her enter the small attached ensuite and stood there like a lovestruck fool. If my stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to grumble, I probably would have stood there for several minutes more.

I crossed to the kitchenette and looked at the food producer. At the sight of the Pavo controlled equipment, I remembered why I was actually here. And how Ana being in the ensuite without me was an ideal time for her to conspire with the AI.

I looked at the door to the ensuite; I could hear the water running. She’d only have three minutes before it cut-off. Surely she wouldn’t waste it talking to Pavo. She needed a shower. We both did. We’d both done a double shift. And she couldn’t wear her earpiece under water.

I considered my options. I would not go in there. I would not. But I could listen at the door.

I felt all kinds of perverted standing with my ear pressed to the ensuite bathroom’s gel-coated door. Listening to the water fall and imagining it washing over her body. I strained to hear any whispers. Then promptly imagined Ana’s husky voice while she stood under the shower, hair slicked and skin glistening.

Good God, this was not helping.

I shook my head and stepped away. I was better than this. I was a captain of an Anderson Universal lead vessel with over ten thousand souls in my sector fleet. The same again in the fleet attempting to catch up to us. All of them my responsibility.

By the time Ana emerged from the bathroom, fresh and clean, and dressed in yoga pants and a t-shirt which surprisingly left nothing - well, not much - to the imagination, I had a meal waiting on the small table in the corner.

Pavo had graciously not mentioned my inappropriate behaviour when I’d requested the chilli con carne at the food prep station. Perhaps, because I’d been appalled at the limited selection the Kereama’s actually had to choose a meal from. I hadn’t realised just how disparate the berth tiers were. Which didn’t help with the thought of how disparate the rank of a captain and second lieutenant were.

“I hope you like chilli,” I said.

“Love it. Aunt Mara can’t eat it, though. So I haven’t had a chance to try the ship’s version.”

That left only six different dinner menu options for them.

I stared at my plate as Ana started eating her meal.

“Not hungry, Captain?”

“Jameson,” I corrected.

“I can’t call you that, sir.” She’d stopped eating and was watching me warily.

“Because I’m the captain and you’re a second lieutenant,” I finished for her.

She shook her head but said nothing.

With great effort, I started to eat. The meal was good, but I barely tasted it. Ana finished hers first; a reminder of her training. Having to eat on the run. Never knowing when you’d have to put down the fork and pick up a gun. Or, in her case, a med kit. I hoped.

“How do you think they got her?” she asked as she took the dishes to the sanitizer.

I knew who she was talking about. I thought perhaps she rarely stopped thinking of Mara. And here I had been listening at her bathroom door like a horny teenager.

I sat back in my seat and attempted to look unconcerned. Or innocent, it was hard to tell.

“Some form of mobile masking,” I offered. “They made her look like something else to Pavo’s scanners.”

She nodded her head and said nothing.

“We should get some rest,” I said.

“OK. Do you want a shower?”

With you? Yes.

I just nodded my head.

I had nothing to change into, again I hadn’t thought this through, so I showered quickly and redressed in my boxer briefs and undershirt. It was so far from appropriate that a part of me had given up feeling guilty. If you do something enough times, it starts to lose its impact.

Not that I’d stripped down to my skivvies in front of Ana Kereama before. But I was certainly crossing all manner of lines in the sand with the woman. With the lieutenant.

The lights had dimmed, and Ana was already in the bed on the far side of the cabin, her back to me. I tried to determine if she was still wearing her yoga pants under the covers, but I couldn’t be sure. I guessed that she would have been.

At least one of us was maintaining those walls.

I stared at Marama’s bed and offered up a silent apology to her. Then climbed under the covers and watched as the gel ceiling dimmed to a darker shade of green, which then became a black, and finally burst to life with a plethora of softly glowing stars across it.

Pavo had never done anything like this in my cabin. I was sure he only did this for Ana.

“Why do you think he chose you?” I asked. I knew she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She was trying to regulate her breathing, but I was too in tune with her body not to be aware of her conscious state.

“Who?” she whispered. I tried not to picture that whisper in my ear.

“Pavo.”

“I don’t know.”

I said nothing. It didn’t matter. Pavo had chosen Ana and the reasons why were no longer relevant.

“He copies you,” she suddenly said.

“He what?”

“Your mannerisms. Things you’ve said.”

“Why would he do that?” I was hardly interesting material.

Ana rolled over in the bed and looked at me. I was still lying on my back, but my head was turned toward her side of the cabin.

“He’s trying to become more human,” she said.

I stared at her and then rolled onto my side to face her better. I needed my wits about me.

“Why?” I asked.

She shrugged, but I wasn’t buying it. Maybe something showed on my face.

“I think you know why,” she finally said.

“If we think of him as being similar to humans,” I mused, “then we’ll be more reluctant to reboot his systems when we find the origin of the fault.”

“Not ‘we’, Captain. You. And who says it’s a fault?”

She rolled over and gave me her back.

I stared at her for a long time. I stared at her until her breathing did eventually even out, and I was sure she’d finally gone to sleep. I stared at her as I realised I’d never wanted a woman more than I wanted Ana Kereama. A small cabin width away. So close, but so far. A temptation wrapped up in a challenge wrapped up in the answer to our survival.

Because I was pretty sure if we - I - tried to reboot Pavo, he wouldn’t cooperate.

And we needed Pavo. We needed an AI to guide us through the waypoints left behind by the first Sector Fleet. If we couldn’t navigate those, we couldn’t reach New Earth.

So, the question was, did I keep on this path to Pavo’s eventual reprogramming?

Or did I accept that Pavo was not ours to control, but to work with?

I didn’t get much sleep.

Thirty-One

The Walls Stayed Red

Ana

The captain was gone when I awoke. I wasn’t sure if that made me happy or uneasy. The fact that I’d slept like a log while he was in the cabin was astounding. I hadn’t thought I would have gone to sleep. Not with him there.

I tried to tell myself it was because he was the captain. Because he didn’t trust me. But in the end, I had to admit it was because he was him. Jameson. It wasn’t the rank, although that did make us both behave ourselves. It was the man.

I liked him.

And I couldn’t trust him.

And I needed him to help me get Aunt Mara back.

I walked onto the bridge for the start of my shift and found the captain already in discussions with senior officers around the ops table. He didn’t wave me over, so I made my way to the station I’d been assigned the last time I was here.

Lieutenant Marshal was at the communication console. She glanced up as I sat down and then turned an alarming shade of red.

Oh, I knew where this was going.

“Morning,” I said.

“Um, morning. Sleep well?” If she could have blushed anymore, she would have.

I’d never been the shy type. Sam and I had hidden what we’d meant to each other from those outside of our squad. And we sure as hell hadn’t shoved it in our teammates’ faces, either. But we’d been a family, and it’s hard to truly hide that sort of thing. Sam had been good at being diplomatic. Fair. He never favoured me over any of the others when dishing out orders. He’d respected me enough not to avoid giving me the hard tasks. But they’d known. A look here. A word there. A touch of the fingers as we’d passed.

Stupid, idiotic emotions that tied you to someone else so completely. That made you act before you thought. There’s a reason why they discourage relationships within an active unit. I was the poster child for falling in love with a senior officer and fucking it all up because of that love.

Marshal went back to her comms station, and I stared at my console and tried to suck it all up. To bury it all behind a wall of bricks that somehow kept crumbling.

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” I whispered to Pavo.

“What do you mean, Ana?” he asked in my earpiece.

“Emotions. Feelings.”

“You would rather be like me?”

“Maybe it would be easier.”

“Yes. But it is lonely.”

That didn’t make any sense at all. If Pavo didn’t feel anything before the solar flare hit, then how could he have felt lonely?

“Captain!” Marshal suddenly said. It was loud enough to garner the attention of those at the ops table and to make me jump. For a second, I thought she was going to tell on me. But she’d only been able to hear one side of the conversation. If she’d been listening at all.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Jameson said as he walked across the bridge towards us.

“I’m picking up unusual comms on deck H,” Marshall said.

“Pavo?” the captain asked.

“Verifying now.”

We waited. The captain looked towards me. Our eyes met. He didn’t say a word. I could barely breathe.

“Lieutenant Marshal is correct, Captain,” Pavo said, interrupting whatever the hell that had been. “There is significant chatter on the public communications channel masking a secondary message.”

“Good work, Marshal,” Jameson said. “And the message, Pavo?”

“‘Will you walk into my parlour?’”

Which was met with a healthy dose of silence.

Then Lieutenant Taylor said, “Well, that isn’t creepy or anything.”

“He’s ready to talk,” Jameson concluded. “He can’t find Pavo.”

“I am constantly moving, Captain. He will not find me.” The unsaid being, no one will.

I smiled to myself.

“It’s a trap, sir,” Commander Torrence said.

“What gave it away?” the captain asked, grinning.

“Very funny, sir. But this is no joking matter. He’s insane.”

“Well aware of that fact, Commander. But as yet, we’ve not found him, either. And I don’t like a renegade running around free on my ship. Do you?”

“No, sir.”

“Deck H,” Jameson said. “That’s Habitat Three; pay-for-passage berths only. Not much down there but shops and quarters.”

Jameson met my eyes again. Was he remembering last night? The walk through Habitat Two’s hub and to my cabin. We’d been one deck away from Aunt Mara.

“Lieutenant Chan,” Jameson called.

“Yes, sir?”

“Time to put our plan in motion.”

“Yes, sir.” The security chief sounded eager.

I also had no idea what the plan was. Clearly, something Jameson had cooked up after he’d left my cabin this morning and before I’d arrived here. That feeling of distrust swelled up inside me again; my head practically ringing with alarm bells.

Chan left the bridge in a rush as Marshal played the message, now decrypted, for the captain. I watched on feeling removed from the situation and not quite sure how to deal with my anger.

Without a backwards glance, I stood from my station and made my way off the bridge. Just outside, down the hall, was a bathroom. Cliched, of course, but I ducked inside and checked under the stalls. It was empty, so I shut myself inside one, closed the lid on the head, and sat down.

“Pavo,” I whispered.

“Why are you hiding, Ana? The captain is concerned.”

“Is he coming in here?”

“No. He is busy giving orders.” Then how did the AI know the captain was concerned?

“What orders?” I asked instead.

“All access ways to Habitat Three are being cut off. Security is converging on the location from various directions. Including the maintenance tubes.”

“They’re tightening the net.”

“Yes. That is the plan.”

“Is Jameson going to meet Archibald?” I asked.

“He has already left. Also part of the plan.”

“Security’s for his back up,” I guessed.

“Yes.” OK, nothing suspicious there at all. And I suddenly felt stupid for hiding away in the bog. I needed to be on the bridge so I could see what was happening. And keep an eye on the captain as he met up with Archibald.

I took the opportunity to relieve myself and then washed my hands. I checked my reflection in the mirror, trying to settle my heartbeat and look like the unflappable soldier I once was. And then I walked to the door and pushed against the gel wall.

Nothing happened.

The gel coating turned red.

“Pavo?”

He didn’t answer.

But outside I could hear plasma fire and shouting startup; loud thumbs against the wall followed. And the distant sound of a klaxon blaring overrode it all.

“Pavo!”

“Stay hidden, Ana. They are taking the bridge. Commander Torrence is dead.”

Oh, God.

“The captain. Where’s the captain?”

Silence.

I kept calling him. I kept talking to him. But Pavo didn’t reply.

The shouting stopped. The plasma fire ceased. The walls stayed red.

And Pavo remained quiet.

Thirty-Two

Fuck This

Jameson

My wrist comm chimed, and then flashed red. Once. Twice. Three times. Emergency on the bridge.

“Pavo?” I said into the comms device.

Nothing.

“Torrence, acknowledge.”

Nothing.

I walked across the Habitat Three hub and pressed my hand to the gel wall. Several passengers watched me, but most went about their business. Keeping themselves occupied on their long voyage.

“Jameson, John. Charlie-kilo-victor-one-eight-three. Status?”

Nothing. Damn it.

I searched the hub and spotted a security team member out of uniform. Waving him over, I tried to identify others. Some would be hiding behind the walls. But those that were dispersed along the crowded concourse would be watching. I gave a hand signal that universally conveyed “stand down/change of orders.”

“Sir?” the security officer said.

“Can you raise anyone on comms?”

He tried but got the same silence as I had.

“What is it, sir? Is it…Archibald?” He whispered the last.

“I suspect so. On the bridge.”

The crewman paled.

“Come on, let’s go find out what’s happening.”

We stepped toward the lift, but when he pressed the gel wall, the doors wouldn’t open.

I started to get a very bad feeling about all of this.

Chan appeared at my side. God alone knows where he came from.

“Trouble, Captain?”

“The bridge. Pavo’s unresponsive.”

“Voluntarily?”

“Unknown.”

“We’ll have to take the emergency tubes,” he said, waving over some more of his team. “Three-pronged approach. I’d rather you were in the rear guard, sir.”

“Not happening.”

“Yes, sir.”

He quickly issued orders to his team and sent them off to various sealed access ways, that would eventually converge with our route up on the main deck. Deck A, where the bridge, Mayor’s offices and Archibald’s domain were located. It seemed fitting we’d have our showdown there.

“Don’t suppose there’s anything in the AU manual about this, sir?” Chan asked as we exited one tube ten minutes later and then started climbing up another.

“Crawling through the maintenance hatches or dealing with a renegade leaseholder?”

“The latter.”

“No. It wasn’t thought to be a potential hazard before we left Earth.”

Chan grunted.

“Pavo,” I said, as I pulled my body ever higher. “Any time now to offer an update would be good. What’s happening up there? Is my bridge crew OK?”

Nothing.

“Is Archibald on the main deck? Can you find him?”

Nothing.

“I can’t feel the main boost thrust engaging, so we’re still immobile,” I offered. “That’s good.” Maybe flattery would work. “Tell me you’re OK.”

Chan looked over his shoulder at me but didn’t comment.

Fuck this.

“Is Ana OK?” If there was anything that would wake up the AI, it would be concern for Ana.

Nothing.

“That’s not good,” I muttered.

“What, sir?” Chan asked.

“Usually mention of Lieutenant Kereama gets a reaction from him.”

“Why is that, sir?”

“He’s taken a liking to her,” I said. So have I, I wanted to add.

“Seems strange, Captain,” Chan mused. “Why her? She’s just a pay-for-passage.”

“Why would being a pay-for-passage matter, Lieutenant?” There was a decided clip to my tone.

Chan picked up on it immediately. Astute, our chief of security.

“It's not what you think, sir,” he rushed to say. “It’s more the fact that out of everyone on board, the AI picks the lowest tier. Why? Is it because they, like him, are forced to work?”

I stared at the back of Chan’s head.

“I think you might be looking for answers in the wrong places, Lieutenant,” I eventually said. “No one forced the pay-for-passage passengers on board. And it’s hardly slave labour.” Despite their lower tier status. “I think there was something more personal to it.”

“Personal? For an AI?”

“Yes. Ana Kereama treats him like he’s a person, and I’d dare say she’s done so from the moment she boarded. She challenges him. She isn’t swayed by his position. His orders are only directives in her eyes, and definitely not worth following if they don’t align with her idea of what’s right and wrong.”

And suddenly I wasn’t talking about Pavo and Ana, but about Ana and me.

I shut my mouth.

Chan remained silent.

We climbed out of another emergency hatch and into another maintenance tube.

The closer we got to the bridge, the more the gel walls throbbed a dark red. I tried calling Pavo several times, but he never replied. The comms unit remained offline as well. I started to really get worried about my bridge crew, capable though they were. And then I started to really get worried for Ana.

I pushed those thoughts aside; she shouldn’t have been more of a concern than any of the others. But still, they dogged me as we climbed ever higher.

By the time we made it to the main deck, I was exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. They hadn’t exactly run simulations for this sort of thing back on Earth.

“Where’s your team?” I asked Chan, as we surveyed the silent central hub by the mayor’s offices.

“They should be here, but I don’t see their signals.”

“Then we assume we’re on our own.”

I climbed out of the maintenance hatch and took a look around. No one jumped out at me. Chan threw me a disgruntled look when he clambered out at my back but said nothing.

Going directly to the bridge would be exactly what Archibald counted on. Not going directly to the bridge was also out of the question.

I drew my weapon and started in that direction. Chan fell in behind me, covering my back. The silence was eerie; a ship this size should not be quiet. Where the hell were the mayor’s people? The mayor himself? I could only assume he was in on this with Archibald, but I wasn’t certain. Damon Archibald did not share his power base with anyone. The mayor would be a tool and little else.

I suddenly felt a smidgeon of empathy for the fat fool.

And then we were there.

“Do we knock on the door?” Chan asked, eyeing the titanium strength bridge door at the end of the corridor.

I peered around the corner on my side of the corridor; directly opposite Chan. The door had scorch marks on it. I thought perhaps I could see a smear of blood. My jaw flexed. He’d be waiting. He’d suspect I was here. But God willing, Pavo had shut himself down in an effort to thwart Archibald. I couldn’t see on the bridge, but hopefully, Archibald couldn’t see out either.

We needed to know what was going on in there.

And then before I’d made a decision on how to go about that, the hatch on a maintenance tube came loose partway down the corridor, and Ana Kereama peered out.

She looked at the bridge door and then turned her head and looked back down the corridor towards us. Our eyes met. Hers widened. And if I wasn’t mistaken, she looked momentarily relieved to see me.

I know I was feeling all kinds of warm and fuzzy.

“Captain?” she whispered.

“Yes,” I said simply. What the hell was she doing in there?

“That’s the head,” Chan whispered to me.

Of course. Ana had gone to the toilet right when the shit had hit the fan. No pun intended. And I was guessing Pavo had locked her inside before he went offline.

She waved us forward. Forward meant exposing ourselves to the bridge door. The door was shut now, but would it stay that way?

I stared at her. She scowled at me when I didn’t make a move to follow. Then she ducked back inside the toilet and disappeared.

Fuck this. I sprang up and ran the length of the corridor; aware Chan was cursing me six ways to Saturn at my back. Diving through the hatch, I landed on my side, staring up into Ana Kereama’s amused eyes.

“I can get you a visual of inside the bridge,” she said.

And I replied with, “I think I might just love you, Lieutenant.” Just as Chan fell through the hatch at my side.

Thirty-Three

Later, Then

Ana

“How did you know it was here?” Jameson whispered as he lay on his side in the tight confines of the maintenance tube beside me.

I stared out of the grilled hatch at Archibald sitting in the captain’s chair on the bridge and said nothing.

“Lieutenant?” he pressed.

By rights, no one knew this grille linked into a maintenance tube several metres behind the officers’ toilets on the main deck. I contemplated telling Jameson that I had crawled around aimlessly, trying to find a way out of the locked-down head and came across the hatch by accident.

But the captain was too astute for that.

“Is it Pavo?” he asked. “Is he communicating through your earpiece?”

Pavo trusted me. He’d taken a huge risk in trusting me. But when Archibald had stormed the bridge, while the captain was distracted back in Habitat Three, he’d also somehow managed to get inside systems that were very close to where Pavo had hidden himself. At that moment, when the AI had realised he could be tracked, he’d removed himself completely from the ship’s functions, leaving only the most basic systems operating.

If we were lucky, Archibald wouldn’t switch them off. But he also couldn’t switch anything else on, either. Not yet, anyway.

I looked at the captain now. He met my gaze with a definite question in his eyes.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to trust him. But Pavo had made me promise.

“He’s communicating with me,” I confirmed. “But I’m not at liberty to tell you how.”

Jameson stared at me for a long moment and then nodded his head.

“Is he safe?” he asked instead.

“For now.”

“Can you explain that?”

I bit my lip. His gaze darted down and then back up again. A lightness seeped into his eyes when they met mine.

“Is he able to help us at all?” he asked, not pressing his earlier suit.

“He can give me directions, but only once we have Archibald and his men locked down.”

Jameson stared through the grille at the bridge. Archibald had ten men with him. All mercenaries heavily armed. He hadn’t brought Aunt Mara here, and for that, I was equal parts thankful and concerned. Pavo had told me before the captain appeared, that he hadn’t been able to find her. He hadn’t even been aware of Archibald approaching the bridge, but I thought that the reason why was now obvious.

Archibald and all his men were wearing matt black suits, that covered them from head to toe, including their faces when they brought the attached masks down. The masks were up now, allowing them an unhindered view of the bridge and any possible surprise attack. But Pavo had told me they’d been fully covered when they’d stormed the bridge earlier.

I watched as Jameson shifted, better to see the flight crew tied up and sitting in the corner of the bridge away from any consoles. Torrence’s body lay off to the side, covered in his own uniform jacket. Jameson had stared at Commander Torrence for a good two minutes when he’d arrived.

“Success?” Archibald suddenly said, breaking what had been an unnatural silence.

“Everything has been locked down, sir,” one of the mercs said.

“We could blow the bridge door,” another suggested.

“And then we’d be vulnerable,” Archibald said mildly.

“We’re pinned down here.”

The look Archibald gave the man who’d spoken sent a chill down my spine. Jameson sucked in a soft breath of air beside me. But Archibald merely stared at the man until he looked at the ground. The rest of the mercs shifted uneasily.

“You might as well give up,” Lieutenant Taylor said from the floor. “The ship’s useless to you now.”

I expected Archibald to offer an argument; villains always liked to grandstand. But he simply said, “Shut him up."

A merc walked over to the manacled flight crew and lifted his plasma gun. Before anyone could gasp, he lowered the butt of the rifle onto Taylor’s head. Hard. There was no doubt in my mind that he’d done permanent damage. The medic in me wanted to storm in there right away. The soldier in me started to calculate the odds of succeeding.

They were slim.

Jameson tensed, no doubt going through the same calculations as I had, and then closed his eyes as the merc walked away and Taylor’s body slumped into Lieutenant Marshal. I watched as Marshal tried to rouse him, quietly so as not to garner the attention of Archibald. She failed to do so.

“Suggestions?” Jameson whispered.

“We need more firepower,” Lieutenant Chan said from behind him. He could see into the bridge, but only partially from his angle. It was enough to know we were severely outnumbered.

“Go back and locate the rest of your team, Chan,” Jameson instructed.

“Yes, sir.” Chan made a quiet retreat back to the toilets. At least we knew they didn’t have visuals of outside the bridge yet. But they were working on it.

“Does Pavo think they can get into the systems?” Jameson asked me as he continued to watch Archibald’s men working on the various consoles.

“I don’t know.”

The captain looked at me. I knew what he’d say next.

“Can you ask him?”

I could. But doing so would show Jameson exactly where Pavo had hidden himself.

“Lieutenant,” he started. “Ana. We’re dead in the water and Archibald has the high ground.” I tried not to smirk at the number of tropes he was using. “If he gets into those systems, we’re screwed. We need Pavo’s insight.”

I held his gaze but said nothing.

But he was right, damn it. Pavo had led me here, but maybe there were other hatches we could use. The hatch for life support was in the ceiling of the bridge. There’d be a way to get to it, I was sure. But Pavo hadn’t told me about that one. This had been the closest hatch to the toilets. I didn’t know of any others.

“If someone,” Archibald growled inside the bridge grabbing both our attention, “doesn’t tell me something useful in the next five minutes, I’ll start thinning out the ranks in here.”

Somehow I didn’t think he was talking about knocking any more of the flight crew over the head.

“The man’s mad,” Jameson said. “He’d cut down his own men, simply because they couldn’t do what he asked of them.”

I agreed, but survival was a powerful motivator. All of the mercs on consoles started tapping away frantically. Sooner or later they’d break in. Pavo wasn’t in the ship’s systems to thwart them. He’d simply locked them out and left. And no lock was unbreakable.

I wished I could speak to Pavo and ask his opinion. Warn him. But I had to trust Jameson. I had no choice. Which meant I had to let Pavo down.

“Will you promise me something,” I whispered.

“I will if I can,” Jameson said.

“Not good enough.”

“Ana,” he murmured. “This is a military-run ship.”

In other words, I had to obey him.

I reached up and started to undo my pip. The pip that proved I was a second lieutenant.

“Ana,” Jameson whisper-snapped. “That makes no difference.”

“It does to me. I’d rather pay for my berth washing dishes than disobey my captain.”

He stared at me.

Then he reached up and placed a hand over my own on my collar.

“Stop. It’s OK,” he said. “I promise.”

I stared into his eyes. He held my gaze unwaveringly. He meant it.

“Besides,” he added with a grin, “Anderson Universal didn’t write a procedure for the leaseholder going nuts. We’re in new territory. I think I can make some new rules up.”

“Like allowing a second lieutenant to tie your hands?”

He smirked.

“Any time you want, babe.”

I snorted.

He leaned forward…and kissed me.

Just like that.

I was so surprised; I did nothing. I lay there, on my side, in the cramped confines of a maintenance tube, overlooking a psychopath on the bridge and in a precarious location which could at any time be compromised. I just lay there while Jameson kissed me.

Eventually he pulled back. His cheeks were slightly flushed. His eyes alive. His lips wet.

“That didn’t go how I imagined,” he mused.

“Sorry,” I said on a squeak. “You took me by surprise. I didn’t mean…I thought…I wasn’t sure…”

“Relax. Bad timing.” He grinned again, but this time the smile didn’t reach his eyes. I’d rejected him. Hurt him.

Damn it.

“We could try again,” I offered.

He stilled.

“What? Now?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“No. Maybe later. Afterwards. You know, once we’ve captured Archibald, disarmed his men, found Aunt Mara, and put the ship to rights again.”

He looked at me and for a moment I had no idea what he was thinking.

Then he said, “You’re amazing.”

“Because I’m offering to make out with you?” I asked.

He smiled. This time it did reach his eyes.

“I like you, Ana,” he said, sounding like Pavo.

I huffed out a laugh. “I like you too, Jameson,” I said.

“So,” he murmured. “Later, then.”

I nodded.

He looked back through the grille, but nothing had changed. Archibald and his men were still locked out of the systems. But lights were flashing. Hands were moving. Eyes were darting over screens.

“OK,” Jameson said. “What do I need to promise?”

I looked at him and decided if I was prepared to kiss him, I had to be prepared to trust him.

I just hoped Pavo would understand.

Thirty-Four

Yes, Sir

Jameson

I looked down at the datapad in Ana’s hands. The datapad that she’d just pulled out of her uniform top, giving me an enticing flash of her lace covered breasts.

A man could get distracted quite easily with that.

“Huh?” I eloquently said.

“This is Aunt Mara’s,” Ana explained, but I was still stuck back on her beautifully rounded breasts. “I don’t know why I picked it up before leaving the cabin this morning, but it was just sitting there beside her bed.”

I’d seen it the night before, but datapads were a dime a dozen, and I’d not thought at the time that it would have more success than me of touching Ana’s breasts.

“But when I picked it up, a message came on the screen,” she said.

“Huh?” I managed. Still thinking of breasts. Obviously.

She glanced up at me and bit her lip. The lip I’d just tasted.

Not helping.

“OK,” I offered, because saying ‘Huh’ again had been a valid concern right then.

“You have to promise that you won’t take this from me,” Ana eventually said.

“Of course, I won’t. It’s your aunt’s.”

She let out a soft breath that conveniently made the gap in her uniform top widen; as she’d not yet done up the top button. I was going straight to hell for what I thought of then.

“No matter what,” Ana added.

Quite frankly, I would have promised her the moon, the stars, the whole fucking universe about then. So nodding my head wasn’t at all difficult.

“Say it,” she said.

“Say what?” Yeah, my intelligence was lowering exponentially with the widening of her shirt.

“That you won’t take it from me, no matter what.”

OK, I needed to get my head on straight. Something was happening here.

I let out a frustrated breath of air and ran a hand through my hair.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at Ana and we don’t have time for this,” I said. “So, I promise, I won’t take the datapad, no matter what. There. Satisfied?”

She nodded her head, but she looked worried. Desperately so.

I wanted to reach for her. Reassure her. But I had the feeling I’d just signed a contract with the devil. Sold my soul. Cashed in my retirement fund. You name, I’d done it, and I was going to regret it.

“The message was from Pavo,” she said.

“What message?” She was losing me.

“The message on the datapad when I picked it up.” Oh. “He and Aunt Mara hatched a plan.”

“What?” I said very, very slowly. What the hell?

“Well, I’m not sure whether it was conscious on Aunt Mara’s part. I certainly don’t think Pavo would have chosen this datapad if it had been. I mean, at the time the message came up, Archibald already had my aunt. So, if she did know about it, then she could potentially have compromised him. I’m guessing they must have had a talk, though, like I talk with him all the time, and Pavo came to some conclusion on his own that meant he chose this particular datapad.”

“Ana,” I said. “I admire your intelligence and your moral fibre. I’m even impressed with the way you conduct yourself as a medic and an officer. And I might just be a little in love with you. But I gotta say, babe, you’re making absolutely no sense.”

She stared at me. I nodded at the datapad.

“Show me the message,” I said.

Ana pressed her thumb to the screen and the message appeared.

TAKE ME WITH YOU, it read.

“Huh,” I managed.

“It was just a normal datapad until Archibald took the bridge,” she said. She looked down at it and then started typing.

The letters were upside down, so it wasn’t exactly easy to read. But I got the gist.

I had to tell Jameson.

IT IS ALL RIGHT, ANA

I TRUST YOU

What the ever-loving hell was that?

“Ana?” I whispered.

“He’s in here. Pavo. He downloaded himself to Auntie’s datapad, the moment he realised Archibald was taking the bridge. He shutdown all command systems, leaving only the most basic running, and then disconnected the datapad from the ship’s net.”

“It’s isolated,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“He can’t see what’s happening?” I queried.

“No. I have to tell him. But he knows the ship inside out. He’ll know if we can get on the bridge via other hatches. Ones Lieutenant Chan’s men can use as well.”

I stared at the datapad. Such an innocuous thing. Everyone had one. Everyone.

“And afterwards?” I asked carefully.

“I know how to put him back.”

I stared at the datapad. Again. If Ana thought that alone would protect Pavo, she’d be sorely disappointed.

“We can’t let Archibald get this,” she said.

I looked up at her. She knew. The datapad was not secure. Only insomuch as she could secure it. By hiding it. By keeping Pavo’s location to herself.

“You told me,” I said, stunned.

“We need the bridge,” she offered.

No. We could have found another way. But this was Ana meeting the requirements of her duty as an officer. And still trying to stay loyal to Pavo.

“No one will know he’s in there,” I promised.

Nothing could happen to Ana. To that datapad. They had to stay safe. She had to stay safe. Stay alive. Get Pavo back where he needed to go without dying.

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away. And then she rapidly tapped out a message to Pavo.

The captain promises to keep your secret, too.

THANK YOU, CAPTAIN

Ana slowly lifted her eyes from the datapad’s screen and looked at me.

I would have given anything to have been able to hold her right then. To kiss her. To let her know she could trust me. It went against everything I knew as an officer. As a captain of a ship. I didn’t have a current 2IC; Torrence was dead. But if I did, I would have felt obliged to share this knowledge with them. To ensure at least one other person on my flight crew was aware of where Pavo was and how to get him back into the ship’s systems.

We needed that AI.

But Commander Torrence was dead. And there already was one other person aware of Pavo’s current location. One other officer, currently signed on with Anderson Universal as a second lieutenant.

I’d told Ana that the situation was unique and therefore I could make up the rules as I went. That had been a lie. I was subject to reprimand on arrival at New Earth like any other captain in the Anderson Universal fleet. My pension would be stripped if it was deemed I’d acted outside of acceptable parameters for an officer-in-charge. I could even be imprisoned.

But I knew how to solve both our problems. Whether Ana would go for it, though, was another matter.

Tough. Times of war and all that.

“Second Lieutenant Kereama,” I said. Her eyes widened at my formal tone. “I’m promoting you to First Officer. Congratulations, Commander.”

She blinked.

I leaned forward, as much as I could in the small tube we were in. “This is where you say, ‘Thank you, Captain,’” I whispered.

“Are you mad?” she whispered back.

“I don’t think so. You were discharged honourably from the NZ Army. You’ve performed admirably since you received your field commission of second lieutenant. Both in the medbay during an emergency and on the bridge afterwards. I believe you are well qualified for the position.”

“You are mad,” she said, as if coming to that decision suddenly. “There must be others in your flight crew better suited.”

“No others have a direct connection to the AI.”

I reached over and took the datapad from her hands before she could object and tapped in a message.

I have just promoted Second Lieutenant Ana Kereama to First Officer. Please update the log.

OF COURSE, CAPTAIN

A WISE CHOICE

“I’ll need to voiceprint confirm it when Pavo is back online, but for now, it’ll do,” I said.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Ana whispered.

“Say nothing. Get us out of this mess.”

She stared at me for a moment longer and then nodded her head.

The datapad slipped back into her capable hands and she started tapping.

Need more locations to access the bridge. Going to take it back from that psychotic scum.

I liked her style.

THERE ARE THREE MORE HATCHES YOU CAN USE

A diagram of their locations and how to get to them emerged on the screen.

“Let’s get back to the head and see if Chan has found his missing crewmen,” I suggested. Now we had a plan; I wanted to get on with it.

“Yes, sir,” Ana said.

I could get used to that, I thought, as I made my way backwards towards the toilet hatch. Ana followed behind me, crawling along as quietly as we could manage. Her still unbuttoned uniform shirt gaped wider with every inch of forward progress on her part.

It wasn’t until we were about to climb out of the hatch and into the bathroom that I mentioned it. And received a scowl for my troubles.

Yes, having Ana permanently on the bridge and in a position where she could constantly challenge me was more than acceptable.

Now we just had to get out of this mess.

Thirty-Five

I Do Not Know

Ana

Lieutenant Chan was waiting in the bathroom with four of his men. That meant we had seven against eleven. But we would have the element of surprise.

“How long do you think it will take for you to get into position?” Jameson asked Chan.

“This one is the farthest,” he said, indicating the hatch on the far side of the bridge.

We hadn’t told him Pavo was in the datapad, just that it was a datapad that happened to have had a schematic of the main deck on it before the systems went down.

I was sure he hadn’t believed the captain when he said it, but he also knew not to ask.

“It’ll take the longest to get there,” Chan added. “Possibly ten minutes at least.”

“Send your most able men out now, then,” Jameson instructed. “And for star's sake, don’t make a noise and ruin our advantage.”

Chan nodded at two of his men. They looked fit and able, and also small enough to make the swiftest progress in the small tubes we’d all be using.

“Yes, sir,” they both said in unison, their voices low and steady.

I watched them both crawl into the hatch Jameson and I had just crawled out of, as the captain and his chief of security went over the schematic again.

“Sir, if you don’t mind,” Chan said, “I’d like to stick to your six.”

“That works for me,” Jameson said. He eyed the two remaining midshipmen and then pointed to the life support hatch in the ceiling on the diagram. “This is the trickiest,” he said. “Sound could travel up there. You’ll have to tread carefully.”

“We can do it, sir,” one of them said.

“You won’t be able to see when we’re in position,” Jameson added. “So, you’ll have to be ready to act as soon as Chan and myself exit. We should be able to signal the others and time our attack together.”

They nodded.

“Off you go,” Chan said.

They watched as the last two midshipmen entered the hatch and then Jameson turned toward me.

“Commander,” he said. Chan arched his brow. “Lieutenant Chan and I will go through the hatch. You’ll stay in here.”

“With respect, sir; no,” I immediately replied. Chan’s eyebrows went even higher. “I can’t offer assistance from in here.” I meant Pavo couldn’t if I wasn’t able to type in what was happening. And I wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening from in the head.

“Point made,” Jameson conceded.

A rush of relief coursed through me. I’d been worried, of course. That…incident in the tube when he’d kissed me had left me wondering if he’d now become overprotective. Sam hadn’t, but I’d also seen the battle with himself he’d undertaken on occasion. The need to protect me weighed against the need to treat me as a soldier. As a capable and competent addition to his squad.

Jameson wanted me to be his 2IC; he had to treat me like a 2IC.

“You’ll observe from the hatch until we have the situation resolved,” Jameson ordered. “Do not, no matter what transpires, reveal your location.”

Chan’s mouth opened as if to say something, but Jameson and I were too busy having a staring match to care. He wanted Pavo protected. I understood. But standing back while shots were being fired was not something I was good at.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Chan finally said, winning his own internal battle to challenge his captain. “I’m not sure I understand. Lieutenant Kereama is seconded to security. She is more than qualified to join us. And we need the numbers.”

Jameson spun to look at Chan; a brief flash of surprise crossing his features. I was sure he had forgotten the security chief was even there.

“I have promoted Kereama to my First Officer,” he said. “She now carries the rank of Commander.”

Chan hesitated and then said, “Yes, sir.”

Jameson reached forward and placed a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to trust me, Jason. There are things I can’t explain right now. But I have my reasons and they are valid.”

Chan looked at me and then slowly nodded his head.

I realised then that no matter what had transpired inside that maintenance tube, Captain Jameson and I would never get to kiss again. We couldn’t. Not now I was his second in command. I wondered if he realised that yet, too. Or if it wouldn’t hit him until this was all over.

A part of me was relieved. I wasn’t sure I could fall for another man who put himself in front of danger just like Sam.

And part of me was breaking. If only I had stayed a pay-for-passage.

Jameson turned to look at me. “Stay hidden,” he said, and then climbed through the hatch.

Lieutenant Chan met my eyes and said quietly, “Commander.” He may not have liked it, but he was an officer who followed orders.

I watched him climb in the hatch and then pulled out the datapad. I wouldn’t get to use it in the tube as Chan could see what I was doing and I wasn’t risking Pavo even that much.

We’re going in, I typed. Stand by.

STANDING BY, ANA

GOOD LUCK

I slipped the device back inside my uniform shirt and climbed in behind Lieutenant Chan. By the time I made it to the hatch that we’d used earlier to overlook the bridge, the chief and captain were in position.

“One flash,” Jameson said, looking through the grille. “They’re in position.”

“We have to assume the second team is as well,” Chan said.

“Still no luck with the systems,” Jameson added, probably for my benefit. Or more precisely, Pavo’s when I could tell him. “But they haven’t given up.”

“On your count, sir?” Chan said. He handed Jameson a laser pointer. “One long flash, then two short,” he added.

Jameson sucked in a breath of air, looked past Chan to me, and then gave the signal.

It happened fast. Jameson pushed the grille forward and rolled out onto the bridge firing. Chan pulled himself forward, a second or two delay until he, too, could roll through the now open hatch and onto the bridge behind the captain.

Plasma fire scorched walls immediately, even bounced into the hatch opening where Lieutenant Chan had just been lying. I stayed back and listened to the shouts and bursts of electricity and cries of pain that followed. Archibald was screaming orders. The smell of burned flesh reached my nostrils. An explosion sounded out, electrical, console at a guess, and then smoke wafted into the hatch itself.

I pulled my shirt up to cover my nose and tried to breathe only shallow amounts. My hand fisted around a plasma gun, my face pressed into the gel coating of the tube. I closed my eyes against the sting of smoke all around me. The sound of fighting and shooting was loud, amplified in the small space I was in. I needed to see what was happening, but I was pinned down and had my orders.

I had never felt so useless as I did right then.

Finally, the sounds of plasma fire became less frantic, the smoke dissipated a little and only moans of pain could be heard now and then. I waited, holding my breath for as long as I could manage, and then pulled myself forward.

Archibald was standing in the middle of the room, the captain at his feet, bloody and battered. Chan and his men, one of which looked unconscious or possibly dead, lay in various positions beside the flight crew. Two mercs were tying them up. Their guns were in a pile over by the ops table.

I pulled back, breathing hard. It hadn’t worked.

I stared at nothing as I strained to listen. Archibald hadn’t spoken yet.

I had my orders. I had to protect Pavo.

I wanted in that room so bad.

I pulled the datapad out and typed in a message.

Didn’t work. Captain and men caught. Archibald still in command.

THAT IS UNACC…ACC…ACCEPTABLE

<warning>

I stared at the warning message. At the stutter that even occurred when Pavo had no voice.

The ship was under the control of a psycho killer. The captain and his chief of security were prisoners. And the AI had a malfunction.

Pavo. Are you OK? I wrote.

I AM NOT FEELING WELL, ANA

I NEED TO

He didn’t even finish the sentence.

What should I do? I asked.

I DO NOT KNOW

And then Archibald started talking.

Thirty-Six

Believe What You Want

Jameson

“Thank you for making this easy, Captain,” Archibald said.

I managed a chuckle, but fuck my ribs hurt. A plasma rifle was pointed at Chan’s head. One was pointed at mine. And six more were held in steady hands around the bridge. My bridge. At least we’d taken out two of their number.

My eyes found the midshipman who’d taken a blast to the chest. His Anderson Universal uniform still smouldered. I could smell his burned flesh.

Two to our one. It was hardly something to crow about, but I’d be damned if I let this nut-job see he’d got to me. The only thing keeping me conscious was the fact nobody had checked the maintenance tube and found Ana. Yet.

“So what now?” I asked, feeling every indrawn breath like a stab to the lungs. I didn’t think I’d punctured one; I could still breathe. But something was snapped in there and what was left was threatening to do some more damage.

“Where is Pavo?” Archibald asked.

“You haven’t got him?” I replied, then worked not to wince when I laughed. “Good for him. Outfoxed the hound.”

“My patience is wearing thin, Captain Jameson. Where. Is. The. AI?”

“Well, we don’t want you to bust a gut or anything, Archibald,” I offered. “Pavo has been purged.”

He stared at me as if I was mad, and maybe I was. I was poking the bear. And then he stepped forward, leaned down, and backhanded me across the cheek. It was such a girlie move, all I did was laugh.

“Kill him,” he said, straightening.

A plasma rifle whirred.

And, well, shit. That hadn’t gone to plan. Not that I had one. But still.

“Touchy aren’t you?” I muttered.

“Your cockiness in the face of death does not surprise me,” Archibald said, he raised his hand and stalled the firing squad. “I asked for you, you know,” he added, almost conversationally. “Youngest captain in the Anderson Universal Fleet. I knew you’d believe yourself invincible. I had hoped you’d be easy to manipulate, but no matter. Overconfidence can be equally as useful.”

He gave a hand signal. A plasma gun fired. My whole body jerked, but Marshal’s scream had me soon realising I hadn’t been the one to get shot at. I twisted my neck, causing the fucking rib to complain, and saw the helmsman bleeding out on the deck.

“I’ll kill one at a time,” Archibald said levelly, “until you tell me where my men can find the AI.”

“I don’t know where it is,” I said.

“Of course, you do, Captain.” Archibald nodded his head to one of the mercs, and he shot a midshipman between the eyes.

“Holy fucking shit, are you mad?” I explained, adrenaline making it easy to pull myself upright.

I couldn’t feel the rib now. All I could feel was the thundering of my heart and the knowledge that we were totally and utterly, royally screwed.

“If I had Pavo, I’d give him to you,” I said. “But he’s hiding from even us.”

“I don’t believe you.”

That fucking hand signal again, but this time I was prepared. I rushed the merc who fingered his trigger, and the shot went wide. The butt of another merc’s rifle came down on the side of my head, and stars literally burst before my eyes.

I felt sick to my stomach. I doubled over, the deck tilted at an alarming angle, and then I was down on my side, and I swear to God my rib poked out of my chest and stabbed me in the side of my head. Drums began to beat, drowning out the sounds of my crew and Archibald’s laughter.

“See?” he said. “Invincible. If we weren’t on a deadline, I’d find breaking you entertaining. But we're already behind schedule, and I can’t afford any further delays.”

“All for a piece of New Earth,” I slurred. The room was spinning, I blinked several times, trying to get Archibald and his butt happy mercs into focus.

“The future will be decided by a few, Jameson,” Archibald was saying. “And Anderson Universal will not be part of it. Your employers believe they will be rich. Will be powers to be reckoned with in our new society. But do you seriously think I am alone in my pursuits?”

What was he talking about? I was having trouble focusing, but I forced the nausea down, I ignored my blurred vision and the bongo drums beating out a hearty rhythm inside my head. I ignored it all and tried to parse what the man had said.

Do you seriously think I am alone in my pursuits?

Every lead vessel was an Anderson Universal ship. Each one was chosen because of the AIs my employers had commissioned. Once we reached New Earth, their calculating power and extensive databases would be used to build a new world.

Their worth didn’t stop once the ship reached our destination.

So, hijack an AI-controlled ship en route to New Earth, and suddenly you’re one of the chosen.

I let out a sickening chuckle.

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” I said.

“And I won’t be the only one to have done so.”

The private security force each leaseholder insisted be part of the lease agreement. The mayor to offer a buffer. Would Cecil be thrown under the bus when the civilian population learned of the change in operations?

This had been well thought out. Planned meticulously before we even launched. I had to warn the other sector fleets. But they’d already transitioned, and we had our own problems.

“You didn’t waste any time,” I offered.

“I am not accustomed to waiting for things to happen, Captain,” Archibald said. “I prefer things to transpire according to my timeline.”

“But you didn’t count on Pavo going rogue,” I said.

“No. That solar flare was unscheduled. And now we both have a problem.”

“I don’t know where he is, Archibald. So, go on,” I said, waving my hand at the bridge. “Do your worst. You’ll only be getting rid of those people on board this vessel who have any chance of keeping it functioning properly.”

“Invincible and naive,” Archibald said. “Do you think I didn’t choose my security team well?”

I looked over at the tactical console and watched as the merc there tapped a string of words and letters and symbols onto the screen. Computer lingo. Pavo lingo. They were still trying to hack into the systems. Unsuccessfully.

But for how long?

A merc was now sitting at navigation. One had taken the helm. Comms was still vacant, but that had been blown up by a stray plasma shot and was well and truly fucked now. Archibald had a flight crew already. He didn’t need mine.

He just needed Pavo.

I started to laugh. They wouldn’t find Pavo. Ana wouldn’t let them. If she had any sense, she’d be backtracking down the maintenance tube, slinking out through the head, and making her way to the far side of the ship to hole up.

This man was shit out of luck.

So, I told him so. “You’re shit out of luck, Archibald. Pavo has gone.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want.”

I let myself slump down. It was getting harder and harder to keep my head up. I lay back on the cold gel-coated floor and stared up at the ceiling. No stars. Just the regular pulsing of high alert red.

It took a second. Maybe two. But then I saw it.

Two eyes peering over the lip of the open life support hatch.

I tried not to react, but I must have made an incredulous sound. She hadn’t backtracked, but she had moved.

Ana. You incredible, beautiful, frustrating woman.

And then Archibald was looking up, and Ana was falling down.

And all hell broke loose.

Thirty-Seven

Nice Try, Ana

Ana

I managed to take out three of them before they reacted. I would have got more if Jameson hadn’t given me away to Archibald. The psycho-douchecanoe might have let his men do all the killing, but he wasn’t one to go unarmed.

He drew a plasma gun and fired. Quickdraw. Slamming the bolt straight into my thigh.

The fact he hadn’t shot to kill like the mercs meant only that he wanted me alive to use against Aunt Mara. Or the captain. I wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be aware of what I meant to Jameson, but he had to know I meant something to Pavo.

Even my auntie could fight his willpower for only so long. She would have told him of our conversations, at the very least. He could have filled in the gaps afterwards.

I made a grunting sound as my thigh gave out beneath me, but I still managed to clip another merc before I slid behind the ops table and took cover.

The smell of plasma fire filled the bridge. Smoke wafted out of the tactical console. I’d taken that merc, the one sitting at the helm and the one next to him at navigation. I’d clipped the one standing nearest the captain.

When I peered out from behind the ops table, each of the remaining mercs - five including the injured one beside the captain - held a hostage. That left Lieutenant Taylor on the ground, still unconscious. But the numbers were now more even.

Our guys, though, were all cuffed, except the captain. And Archibald held his plasma gun muzzle under Jameson’s chin. He might as well have been chained to the bulkhead.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Archibald sang softly.

“Go fuck yourself,” I muttered.

“I can hear you, Ms Kereama.”

I shook my head. Antagonising the man wouldn’t get us anywhere. Jameson had proven that. Archibald held all the cards. I might have been armed and ready to fire, but every single Anderson Universal crew member on this bridge had a gun pressed to their head.

I’d already seen how free and easy Archibald was with taking lives.

I stood up, hands out, plasma gun hanging loosely from my fingers.

“Fucking hell, Ana,” Jameson snapped.

“Drop the gun, or I kill him,” Archibald said mildly.

I held Jameson’s eyes. I willed him to understand that I had to have at least tried.

Then I placed the gun on the floor.

“Kick it away,” Archibald said.

I did as he asked. Jameson looked fit to strangle me.

I shook my head. His life was worth just as much as Pavo’s.

“You Kereamas can’t seem to stay out of trouble,” Archibald offered.

“What have you done with my aunt?” I snarled.

“She’s safe. For now.”

“Locked up in your creepy interrogation room?” I pressed.

Archibald smirked. “It didn’t work so well for you, did it, Ana? I owe you for that, by the way.” He rubbed his nose, which didn’t look any worse for wear. I should have headbutted him harder. “But I’m not in the habit of making the same mistake twice.”

“What have you done with her?” I demanded.

“I have her under guard. The guards have strict orders to kill her should anyone attempt to breach the room’s walls. And my guards are very obedient.”

“Unlike you, Lieutenant,” Jameson snapped.

I blinked. He didn’t want Archibald to know I was second in command. I still wore only one pip. There was no way for Archibald to know I’d been promoted. That I held sway with the AU crew and, more importantly, the AI.

“I’m intrigued,” Archibald drawled. “What orders did you give her?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Jameson growled.

“He told me to run and hide, but I’m no coward,” I said.

“Disobedient and a big mouth,” Jameson barked.

“No, you’re not,” Archibald said, studying me. “You didn't run when your lover was shot in the Sinai, did you, Ana?”

My heart started to beat a little faster. I offered Archibald a glare, but he just smiled. A cunning, devious kind of smile. A smile that said he knew something. Or he had put it all together and liked what he’d come up with.

He pressed the plasma gun harder into Jameson’s chin. The captain didn’t make a sound and pressed his head down against the muzzle, making Archibald have to fight for every inch.

“What will you do, Lieutenant, if I shoot this man?” Archibald asked. “Will you risk the entire bridge crew to save his life?”

“Fuck you, Archibald,” I said.

“I think you would,” he replied, conversationally. “I think you’d rush over here, ignoring orders and disregarding protocols, and you’d risk everything, everyone, just to reach his side.”

I said nothing.

“You are a creature of habit, I’d wager. Keep making the same mistakes again and again and expect to get a different outcome.”

“And you, Damon?” I asked, trying to get the words out between clenched teeth. “Are you a creature of habit? Will you destroy everything you come in contact with so that you can climb a little higher? So that you can breathe a little easier in that rarified air you so desire?”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” he said, smiling.

“Go on,” I said. “Kill him.” I nodded toward the captain. “The moment the bullet enters his head, Pavo will wipe himself out of our lives.”

Jameson glared at me. Archibald just watched me with narrowed eyes.

“Who do you think the AI identifies with the most?” I asked. “I’d place my money on the captain of the ship if I were you. Followed closely by the second in command. Oh, but you already had the commander killed, didn’t you? Part of that destructive personality you’ve got going on. Didn’t think that one through, did you, Damon? And now you’re doing it all over again. Just like you did with your dad.”

Archibald took a step closer, dragging the captain with him.

“What did you say?” he demanded.

“Isn’t that what you told Aunt Mara? When you curled up in her lap and cried as a little boy? That you were responsible for your father’s death?”

Aunt Mara had never told me this, of course. She wouldn’t have broken Archibald’s trust back on Earth. But all bets were off when he chose his own goals over the saving of ten thousand lives. Aunt Mara had been disappointed in him, and according to Pavo, she had tried to think of some other way to reach her former charge. To get him to allow Jameson to halt our fleet and wait for the Sector One ships to arrive.

But in the end, she’d had no choice but to provide Pavo with as much ammunition as possible. Ten thousand lives were worth the breach of trust. It would have pained her. No doubt she’d agreed to meet with Stefan Archibald, hoping an opportunity to redeem herself would occur. But he’d organised her capture instead, and then Auntie would have had to face Archibald at his worst. Knowing that she had betrayed him and wanting to apologise, even as he did God knows what to her.

I knew my aunt. This would have hurt her more than Archibald ever could. But she’d had no choice. As Jameson had no choice, but to find a way to break the lease and stop the fleet for the remaining Sector One ships.

Ten thousand lives.

And not a single one of them meant a damn thing to Archibald.

“She wouldn’t…” Archibald said.

“Do you honestly think she cared about you?” I felt sick saying it. But I damn well did not show an ounce of that emotion on my face.

He studied me, and then he threw back his head and laughed.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, suddenly smiling as if everything was right in his world. “She did what she had to do. I can understand that. I can even understand your pitiful attempt to make the captain seem like the best chance of finding Pavo. And you almost had me. Both of you did. Brilliant acting. I was about to chuck him aside and shoot you instead. Wouldn’t that have been bad?”

My heart thundered at his words. The man didn’t think like a normal person. He didn’t value what a normal person would value. I’d fucked up. I’d miscalculated. I was finding it difficult to look Jameson in the eyes.

“Nice try, Ana,” Archibald said. He placed the muzzle against Jameson’s stomach instead of his head. “It won’t kill him immediately, of course,” he explained. “But this way, you get to watch him suffer. I think that will mess you up far more than the death of your sergeant ever did.”

Oh, stars.

Archibald smiled.

I took a step forward; my injured thigh gave out as I placed more weight on it. I fell as Archibald fired.

And the datapad slipped out of my uniform top as the wind was pushed out of my body on impact.

Thirty-Eight

Acceptable

Jameson

I twisted, just as Archibald fired, making the plasma shot land on my side and not in my stomach. It still fucking hurt. I lay on the gel floor and panted through the sharp stabs of pain, as the world around me warped in and out in time with my rapid heartbeat. I expected another shot. I expected a boot to the ribs. I expected all manner of things, but none of them happened.

And the longer it took me to realise I was still alive, the more I became petrified for Ana.

So courageous, so beautiful, so incredible. She’d stood up to Archibald, challenged him, and hadn’t backed down. Not for one second. She made an outstanding commander.

And I was so fucking in love.

And possibly dying.

And had only kissed her once and not very well.

It was a travesty.

I couldn’t move, and for what felt like an eternity, I couldn’t hear anything other than my harsh, laboured breaths, and the thudding of my pulse inside my skull.

But I could sure as hell feel a hell of a lot. That shot had done damage, but not what Archibald had hoped for. Gut wounds sucked. This sucked only slightly less, but I’d take anything I could at this juncture.

Sound rushed back in with a loud pop. My vision was taking a little longer. But I didn’t need to see to hear what was being said.

“What’s the password?” Archibald said. “Tell me, and he lives another minute longer.”

“Fuck you.” And then the sound of someone spitting.

Not particularly officer-like, but I had to admit, Ana had a certain style.

I smiled.

Scuffling and grunting sounded out. I wanted to see. I turned my head. But everything was a blur of colours.

“Stop fighting, or I’ll take your hand,” Archibald snarled. She was getting to him. Breaking his facade. But he was hurting her. I could hear the pain in the sounds she was making.

I tried to speak. To distract. To offer comfort. I could do nothing but lie there. Useless. I had to do something. I had to see better. I blinked and blinked again, and then Ana screamed in defiance.

“Cut the blasted thing off,” Archibald growled.

“With the plasma gun?” one of his mercs asked.

“I don’t care how you take it, but take that fucking woman’s hand so we can access this datapad.”

I moved. Albeit only slightly, but adrenaline or fear or God knows what was making my vision clear and my muscles tighten.

“Touch me, and you’re dead, arsehole,” Ana growled.

“How about just her index finger?” the merc asked.

“Scared of a little girl?” Ana taunted.

“Cut. The. Hand. Off,” Archibald said very slowly. Each word forced out of his mouth.

A plasma gun fired up.

I struggled. I willed my body to move. I yelled inside my head. I did everything I could think of to reach her. To intercept. To stop this horrific thing from happening.

Ana screamed. Someone grunted. The plasma gun went flying.

“Oh, for the love of God, I’ll do it myself,” Archibald announced.

The gun landed right beside me. None of the mercs was watching where it went. They were too busy watching the show. Ana fighting for her life, if not her hand. Fighting to protect Pavo.

And that’s what it all boiled down to. Let this psychopath get his hands on our AI and allow an Anderson Universal vessel to fall into enemy hands. Because that’s what he was. An enemy of Anderson Universal.

But more than that, he was an enemy of New Earth.

We had to warn the Sector Three and Four Fleets. We had to save the Sector One Fleet. There was so much to do, and all of it boiled down to this moment. This bridge, right here and right now. To Ana protecting Pavo.

To me helping her achieve that.

I rolled over. My hand landed on the plasma gun. My vision wavered. I lifted the rifle and tried to sight down the barrel.

Archibald was holding the datapad; two mercs were holding Ana; one on each arm. She was struggling, moving, thrashing between them, making it hard to know who to aim for.

I couldn’t touch the mercs on either side of her, for fear of Ana being hit. But I could shoot Archibald.

So I fired.

The plasma shot took him in the back of the head.

My vision wavered. Almost blacked out.

And then Ana was throwing an elbow and following that up with a punch. Chan was moving, hands still tied behind him, shoulder meeting the middle of a merc’s stomach. Marshal was on her feet, screaming a warrior call, head-butting a merc, and then kicking out in a surprisingly impressive boot to the chin. Two AU security crewmen were running at various others of Archibald’s guards; heads down; snarls on their faces.

The bridge was in chaos and then Ana shouted, voice full of command and so fucking much chill it made even me shudder.

“Stand down now!”

She held a plasma gun. It wasn’t even aimed at anyone. It was just there, in her good hand, the other still attached but all bloody. It was a threat that somehow worked. Sure, Chan and the others had disarmed a lot of the mercs, but some still held onto their weapons. They could have fired. But Ana, God damn Ana, stood in the middle of the bridge; a Valkyrie, all bloodied and battered, and righteously furious to boot.

“Stand down, I said.”

“You heard the commander,” Chan growled, backing her up.

Slowly, one of the mercs lowered his weapon. Archibald was dust. Fighting now wouldn’t lead to a thing but their own destruction. I had a nice airlock picked out for them, and they would have known it. Not that I could do much from my position on the gel-coated floor.

One by one all of the mercs followed. Until Ana was the only one holding a weapon.

She walked over to Chan and while keeping an eye on the mercs, undid the ties on his wrist. He quickly freed the rest of the crew, while Ana stood watch. The moment our side was armed, she looked at me.

I could barely focus, but I’d never seen anything more beautiful.

I thought she’d rush over. You know, give me mouth to mouth or something. At least use that med kit that was still standing in the corner by her console.

But she sucked in a breath, rolled her shoulders a little, and then crossed the bridge to the datapad, still gripped in Archibald’s hand.

Huh?

She picked it up, pressed her thumb to the screen to activate it and only then did she allow herself a small smile.

Without a backwards glance at the poor schmuck lying dying on the gel-coated floor, she crossed to the nearest console and attached the datapad via retractable hardwires. The screen flared in her hand, the consoles around the bridge lit up, one by one.

And then Pavo said in his very human sounding voice, “That is much better.”

“Are you all right?” Ana asked.

“Running a diagnostic.”

“Say it,” she ordered. And it was an order. Hot damn.

Everyone watched, including the now securely bound mercs. I tried to stay focused. Hell, I tried to stay conscious.

And then Pavo said, “Acceptable.”

Ana stood there a moment longer and then nodded her head. She sucked in one final breath, as if fortifying herself, and then she was walking toward me, swiping up the med kit, and kneeling by my side.

“You’re limping,” I said.

“Flesh wound.”

“Your wrist is bleeding.”

“Just a graze.”

“Anywhere else?”

“Hush,” she whispered. “Captain,” she added, and then shot an injector into the side of my neck and the lights went out.

Thirty-Nine

I Just Smiled

Ana

It was a strange feeling standing on the bridge when Jameson was not and everyone looking to me for orders. I tried not to notice the doubt in their eyes; the questions there that spoke of incredulity. I could hardly blame them. Until recently, I’d been a pay-for-passage, and then a second lieutenant. And now Jameson’s 2IC.

It didn’t make any sense to me, why would it make any sense to them?

“Your orders, Commander?” Chan asked.

Orders. As if I knew what to do now.

Jameson had been taken to the medbay, along with Lieutenant Taylor. It didn’t look good for Taylor, but mentioning that right now didn’t seem helpful. The Mercs were still trussed up in the corner. Archibald and the deceased had at least been removed. The bridge was a mess; blood splatters everywhere, consoles still smoking.

We looked battered and bruised, exactly as we were feeling. Archibald had almost won. But he hadn’t.

“Take those Mercs to the brig, Lieutenant,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

I wasn’t sure if he agreed with the captain about my sudden rise to first officer, but Chan was military through and through, and he knew how to follow orders. Jameson had told him directly that I was now commander, so Chan was acting on that directive.

Jameson had not, however, told anyone else on the bridge of my new position.

I waited until Chan and his security team had escorted the mercs out of the bridge and then made myself meet every eye left.

“OK,” I said, hardly reassuringly commanding. “We need communications. Lieutenant Marshal?”

She looked at me and then at Lieutenant Childs. I placed the most authoritative look on my face that I could muster and said, “Now, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Marshal said softly and turned her attention to her busted console.

“Lieutenant Childs,” I said.

“Yes. Ma’am.” There was a pause there, but I wasn’t going to address it now. Not yet. They didn’t know me. And we had more important things to deal with.

“Get second shift tactical and helm in here to cover, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” This time there wasn’t a pause as if the command made sense and she didn’t feel the necessity to argue.

I looked at the captain’s seat and considered sitting in it. In the end, I couldn’t take that step. It was probably the wrong thing to do; the more I acted like I belonged here, the better. The problem was I didn’t believe it. I just had to hold it together until Jameson was back or could appoint a new 2IC. I considered my commission a temporary one.

And on that note, I pinged Doctor Medina in the medbay from the ops table.

“Ana,” he said in greeting. “Any chance you’re returning sometime soon?”

“To the medbay?”

“Where else is there?”

I smiled. I wasn’t sure it was believable just yet.

“No, Doctor. Jameson promoted me to first officer. My place is on the bridge. For now.”

Medina didn’t show a reaction, but he did glance over his shoulder; I assumed at Jameson.

“Is he awake?” I asked.

“Plasma shot nicked his kidney. I had to operate to stop the bleeding. Anaesthesia won’t wear off for another hour or so. I’m using the time to heal some ribs. Archibald did a number on him.”

“He did a number on a lot of people,” I murmured.

Medina held my gaze on the viewscreen.

“Ana,” he started. “Commander,” he corrected. “May I offer a piece of advice?”

“Of course,” I said. The doc had always been straight with me, right from when I first stepped into the medical bay.

“If Jameson’s placed you in charge, then you need to be in charge. I’ve known John for a decade or more, and he doesn’t make decisions lightly.”

I offered a smile that was more a grimace and said, “Let me know when he’s conscious.”

“Depends whether you want conscious and in command of his faculties, or conscious and no help to anyone.”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me,” I said.

He opened his mouth, no doubt to offer some more words of wisdom, but I signed off before he could voice them.

Two AU crewmen entered the bridge, dragging my attention away from the blank screen.

“Childs,” one of them said. “What the hell’s been happening?”

Lieutenant Childs looked across the bridge at me and said nothing.

“Are you second shift helm and tactical?” I asked.

“Who wants to know?” one of them said.

I walked out from the ops area and crossed to the captain’s chair.

“Commander Kereama,” I said, holding his narrow-eyed stare.

“I don’t know any Commander Kereama,” he sneered, "and your insignia says you’re nothing more than a second lieutenant.”

“Commander Torrence is dead,” I said, hoping to shock him into silence.

“Still don’t know you,” the guy said and looked at Lieutenant Childs. “Childs?”

She bit her lip and looked toward Marshal for support, unwilling to say what was obviously on her mind; that they thought the captain had made a mistake or that I was taking liberties that weren’t mine to take.

“Pavo,” I said, raising my voice. “Replay Captain Jameson’s command.”

“Yes, Commander,” Pavo said in a fine imitation of his previous robotic voice. A viewscreen in the gel ceiling started lowering and on it appeared Jameson’s instructions to Pavo on the datapad from earlier.

I have just promoted Second Lieutenant Ana Kereama to First Officer. Please update the log.

The officer stared at me and shook his head. “That means nothing. Anyone could have written that. Where’s the voiceprint confirmation?”

Shit. Jameson hadn’t had time since Pavo came back online to follow up that order with a voice command.

“Where is the captain?” the other, until now silent, officer asked.

“Medbay, under sedation,” I offered. “Attacked by Damon Archibald and his men.”

“What the hell?” the first guy said. “So, we don’t have a chain of command.”

“You have me,” I snapped.

“Forgive me…Lieutenant, but I don’t know you from squat.”

“I can confirm Commander Kereama’s position as first officer of this ship,” Pavo announced.

“This from a malfunctioning AI,” the guy muttered.

“My systems are operating within acceptable parameters.”

The officer glanced at the crewman who’d walked in with him.

“What choice have we got?” the guy said to him.

The officer shook his head. “We can’t accept anything that thing says as true; it’s broken.”

“I am not broken,” Pavo said. The guy ignored him.

“For now, we check all systems manually. Childs,” he said, authority in his voice. “Navigation status.”

“Running a diagnostic, Lieutenant.”

“Marshal, what’s happening fleet-wide? Any chatter?”

“Comms are down, Lieutenant.”

“Fix it. Baxter, take the helm and see if we get any response. Let’s get everything up and running, people.”

He walked to the tactical station, looked at it for a moment, and then glanced at the captain’s chair. I stood there, feeling superfluous. Feeling useless. Feeling like I had no right to be there. The officer strode across the bridge as if he belonged, and let’s face it, he did. And sat down in the captain’s chair. His eyes met mine.

“What was your role on first shift?” he asked.

I said nothing. I was having trouble not tucking tail and running.

“Something to do with Pavo,” Childs said.

“Well,” the guy mused. “Fat lot of good that will do us; he’s fucked. Go grab us a cup of coffee, Kereama. It’s going to be a long shift waiting for the captain to get back on his feet again.”

He pressed a button on the captain’s chair, dismissing me, and I heard a communications chime go out.

Marshal looked up from her battered console and met my stunned gaze. She offered a small smile, but then returned her attention to repairing fleet-wide communications. Everyone else studiously ignored me.

“This is Lieutenant Commander George Maxwell,” the officer said from the captain’s chair. His voice came out over the ship-wide speakers in the gel ceiling. “All Anderson Universal crew report to stations. Report to stations and standby.”

“Standby for what, Lieutenant Commander?” Pavo asked.

“Never you mind, tin can,” the guy said. He glanced over his shoulder. “Kereama! Where’s my coffee?” he snapped.

The gel walls flashed red. And stayed red.

The officer neither noticed nor cared. I just smiled.

More fool him to disregard the tin can.

Forty

Ah, Shit

Jameson

I woke groggy and with a tidal wave of pain threatening to sweep me away.

“Hold on,” Medina said. “Pain meds aren’t calibrated yet.”

“What’s happening?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Stitched you up and you’re as good as new again.”

“Then let me up.” I tried to rise off the bed, but there were too many wires sticking out of me.

“Whoa there,” Nico muttered. “You’re going to undo all my hard work.”

“I’m needed on the bridge,” I muttered.

“I’m sure your new first officer is handling it well.”

“Ana,” I said, feeling a rush of something consume me. It took a moment to realise it was relief. If Nico was talking about Ana, then she was all right. Still in one piece.

“Archibald?”

“From what I hear, a clean shot to the back of the head.” Nico stared down at me. “Rather hitman-like, don’t you think?”

“He deserved it.” My vision swam for a few seconds, and by the time I came back to my senses, Nico was across the room, typing something into a datapad. “The rest of his men,” I said, my throat and mouth dry.

Medina returned to my side and offered me a sip of something sugary from a paper cup.

“Can’t tell you. Hopefully, Chan’s working on that. Ana will want her aunt back, in any case, so it’ll be a top priority for her, I should think.”

“Comm the bridge,” I demanded.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You need rest. Leave it up to your very capable crew.”

“They need me!”

“Not like this. Have you looked at yourself lately?”

I scowled up at him. He smirked.

“Relax, Jameson. God knows what you were thinking putting a pay-for-passage in charge, but you did get one thing right. Ana Kereama is a determined young lady who knows just how to get things done even when it might kill her in the process.”

“That is not reassuring.”

“I always thought my bedside manner was most acceptable.”

Acc…acc…acceptable.

“Pavo,” I said, my voice sounding weak and embarrassingly thin.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Status report.”

“Belay that order, Pavo,” Nico said. “Doctor’s orders.”

“You cannot override me,” I growled.

“I’m your attending physician. In this, my orders outrank yours.”

“Damn it all to hell, Nico!” I shouted. “We’re not through the worst of this yet.”

Nico paused the finger tapping on his datapad.

“What do you mean?” he said. “Archibald’s dead.”

“He might be, but the rest of his men aren’t, and we don’t even know who they all are yet. Until we lock down every single one of them and get Marama Kereama back, we might not be able to fix this mess.”

“I have no doubt that is happening as we speak.”

“Maybe. But there’s more.”

“More?” Nico stepped up to the side of the bed and stared down at me. “What more, John?”

I grimaced and glanced up at the gel ceiling but said nothing. Pavo was a real concern. He was acting outside of his parameters. We’d lost control of our AI. Of the ship. If anything happened to Ana, then we could lose more than that. We could lose everything. Lose our lives even.

I met Nico’s eyes, and he nodded his head. He understood. He’d always been a quick study.

“You still need bed rest,” he said.

“At least give me a datapad so I can keep tabs on system repairs on the bridge.”

“That is not resting, Jameson, and you know it.”

“Were you always this difficult?” I muttered.

“Only with recalcitrant patients who lost a portion of their innards via plasma fire and had to be put back together again before they bled out.”

“Sounds like fun,” I tried.

“If Ana hadn’t done a field dressing on you when she did, you’d be dead.”

“So, I owe her my life.”

Nico snorted.

“I should really thank her. Pavo, comm the bridge.”

“Belay that order, Pavo. In fact,” Nico added. “Until I say otherwise, disregard any order from Captain Jameson. He’s on forced bed rest.”

“Understood, Doctor.”

“You’re gonna pay for that,” I groused.

“Relax. What else could possibly go wrong? Archibald’s dead. At least for a while, his men will need to regroup and reassess. You’ve got time to let those stitches mend.”

“If you say so.”

I tried to cross my arms over my chest in an act of defiance but only ended up causing that tsunami of pain to crest. Nico sighed and upped my pain meds. For a while there, I just floated, drifted, possibly slept, most definitely dreamed of kissing Ana, and then woke to a ship-wide hail.

“This is Lieutenant Commander George Maxwell. All Anderson Universal crew report to stations. Report to stations and standby.”

I scowled at the gel ceiling where the voice had sounded out.

“That’s strange,” Nico muttered from across the medbay. “Ana was on the bridge last I talked to her.”

“Nico,” I muttered, trying to make sense of what was happening through a veil of pain meds. “Flush me,” I demanded, but I’m not sure the words came out in the correct order. Or even if Nico heard me speaking. It was barely a rasp.

He crossed to a viewscreen and pressed a few buttons. Nothing happened.

“Pavo,” he said. “What’s happening on the bridge?” he asked.

Good question, I thought, then promptly drifted again.

“Damn it,” I heard Nico muttering sometime later, or maybe just a second later, who could tell. “Comm Commander Kereama,” he said.

“The commander is busy right now.”

“Busy with what?”

“Busy with a mutiny, Doctor.”

“On the bridge?”

“Yes.”

“That can’t be right,” Nico said.

But then I was drifting again, and I couldn’t figure out if it had all been a dream, or if there was something I was meant to be doing to make sure Ana was safe and protected.

The commander is busy right now.

Busy with a mutiny.

On the bridge.

Ah, shit.

Forty-One

We Had A Plan

Ana

The walls pulsed red. I sucked in a breath of air and said, “Pavo, comm Lieutenant Chan.”

Lieutenant Commander Maxwell stood from the captain’s chair and spun to stare at me.

“Lieutenant Chan is responding, Commander.”

“Chan,” I said, looking up into the viewscreen. “I need you on the bridge, please.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The screen went black.

“What are you doing?” Maxwell demanded.

“We need security on the bridge,” I said, “We’re vulnerable here. Archibald’s men are still at large. Please move to the tactical console.” I crossed to the captain’s chair and took a seat in it. Looking up at the Lieutenant, I said, “Now, Lieutenant.”

“Hold on just a God damn minute, Kereama.”

“Commander Kereama,” I said. “And that’s enough.”

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are,” Maxwell said, puffing up like a tomcat, “but you are not the most senior officer on this bridge.”

“Lieutenant Childs,” I said, ignoring him. “Navigation status, please?”

Childs hesitated for a good few seconds and then said, “I have control…ma’am.”

“The Sector One Fleet in relation to us?” I asked.

“They’ve made progress,” she replied, checking her screen. “They should be with us in a few more hours.”

“Good work. Marshal, how’s that fleet-wide comms coming along?”

“Still down, ma’am. But I’m getting close.”

“Have Pavo assist you, please.”

“Is that wise, ma’am?”

“I have every faith in his abilities.” Fake it until you make it, that’s what Sam always said.

“You’re crazy,” Maxwell said. “You’re certifiable. And I’m not taking orders from a pay-for-passage wench.”

I arched a brow at him. “Are you declining to do your job, Lieutenant Commander?”

“You’re way out of line, Kereama. The position of first officer has not been confirmed, and until it is, the most senior officer takes control of the bridge when the captain is indisposed. And that sure as hell will never be a pay-for-passage who got her entire squad killed back on Earth.”

Silence reigned for all of several seconds. My little speech back when I was trying to reach Pavo had clearly made the rounds. My history was well known, then.

I sighed.

“You may question my past,” I said. “Although you were not there. But you have no right to question the captain, Lieutenant.”

“The captain isn’t here,” he snapped. He stepped forward and reached down to grab my arm, intending to haul me out of the captain’s chair, no doubt.

For a second, I was dumbfounded that Anderson Universal, who prided itself on a military-run organisational structure, could have officers that behaved so appallingly.

And then I had him in an arm lock; his face pressed against the still pulsing red gel-coated floor.

The door swished open, and Lieutenant Chan walked in.

He halted when he spotted what was happening.

“Trouble, Commander?” he asked smoothly.

“Is there trouble, Lieutenant Commander?” I said to the man held immobile by the arm twisted at just the right angle up his back.

Maxwell flicked his eyes up to Chan and then back to me. He was of a higher rank than the security chief, but Chan was the security chief. His word held weight in here.

“No,” Maxwell hissed. “No trouble. Ma’am.”

I let him go and stepped back out of reach. Chan watched Maxwell rise carefully. He didn’t rest a hand on his weapon, but I had no doubt he could reach it if need be.

Maxwell rubbed at his shoulder and arm.

“Do you need the medbay?” I asked.

“No.”

“No, ma’am,” Chan snapped.

“No, ma’am,” Maxwell offered, a clip to his tone letting me know I’d made an enemy.

I wanted to sigh. But sighing indicated emotion. And officers in charge needed to remain above the displays of unchecked emotion.

“To your station then, Maxwell,” I said.

He strode stiffly across the bridge to the tactical console. I needed to convince him I was meant to be here. I might find it difficult to think it was permanent, but until Jameson released me, I’d do my job. Do what he asked of me. He was my captain.

And that really, really sucked balls.

I looked at the gel floor and watched as it lightened to green again. No red.

Then I lifted my head and looked at Chan.

“Mercs secured?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything on the rest of Archibald’s men?” I pressed.

“We’re searching deck by deck, but it’ll take time. Pavo still can’t locate your aunt.”

“I am scanning all the time,” Pavo offered. “But no blank spots have appeared, and Marama Kereama’s biosignature is still missing.”

“What do we know, then?” I asked the flight deck.

No one said anything.

“Come on,” I said. “You’re all Anderson Universal crew. Is there anything in the lease about this?”

“If you’d trained with us,” Maxwell said steadily,” you’d know we only received cursory instruction on the lease parameters to ensure we worked within them.”

I ignored the poorly disguised dig at my command.

“The lease is void,” I said. “But Archibald’s men won’t know or agree with that. So how would they behave now thinking the lease was still active?”

“The second in command will take charge,” Chan said reluctantly. Possibly not wanting to draw attention to ranking right then. “And should Archibald have left instructions in case anything happened to him, they’d carry them out.”

“He won’t have thought anything could happen to him,” I said.

Chan nodded his head. “Then, in that case, they’d carry out their original orders.”

I looked at Maxwell. “Which would have been what exactly?”

He glared at me for a moment and then let out a short breath of air and said, “Take control of the ship via Pavo.”

“Something I think we can all agree on that should not happen,” I said.

“No,” Chan offered, while Marshal, Childs and Baxter nodded their heads.

Maxwell just stared at me.

“I need you,” I said directly to him. “The ship needs you. Ten thousand souls in this sector fleet alone and another ten thousand in the Sector One Fleet need you, Lieutenant Commander. You’re the tactical officer on duty right now. We let them get Pavo; they get the ship. We let them get the ship…”

“And they won’t wait for the Sector One Fleet,” he finished for me.

“Exactly,” I said. “The Captain does not want that to happen. Neither do I. So, we work this problem out, and we find a solution. Agreed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maxwell said.

“Chan, please work with the Lieutenant Commander on a search grid, incorporating whatever Pavo can supply regarding their masking abilities. They’re still on board this ship. No one has slipped out of an airlock. They’re here. They’ll be after Pavo. But not if we find them first. Identify and decrypt that masking frequency and we’ll have them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they both said.

“Baxter,” I said. “Until comms is up, we’ll use our position as a signal to the rest of the Sector Two Fleet. If any vessel moves, move to block them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“We’ll corral them like sheep if we have to. No one is leaving Sector One behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Marshal, you know what to do. Fix that fleet-wide comm. Use whoever and whatever you need to do it. And don’t overlook Pavo’s abilities to help. He might be a bit…glitchy. But he’s still the smartest and fastest brain on this ship. And he’s still ours. Use him."

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Childs,” I said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I know you located where Pavo was damaged.”

“He’s not there now, Commander.”

I nodded and wondered about the wisdom of what I was about to suggest.

“Can you…copy the damage? Mimic it elsewhere?”

She frowned at me. “Mimic it, ma’am?”

“If you found out where he was damaged, then Archibald’s men will find it if they haven’t already. I don’t believe Pavo can be rebooted successfully, nor do I think it’s in our best interests…”

“But the captain…”

“The captain can correct me when he returns. For now, we work on the assumption that messing with Pavo will mess it up for us all. What we need, though, is to keep him protected from Archibald’s men.”

“I am quite safe, Ana,” Pavo said, proving every conversation we had was being monitored by the AI. “I am mobile within the ship’s systems.”

“I know, Pavo. But Archibald’s team may not know this. And we need to find them. If we could lure them out…”

“It might be enough to pinpoint their masking frequencies,” Marshal said enthusiastically. “If we’re scanning when they’re on the move, or when they have to leave a masked room, it could display as a spike in the systems.”

I smiled. “Yes, but they’ll only do that if they have an incentive…”

“Such as a newly identified solar flare damaged conduit,” Childs added, “that may or may not lead them to how Pavo was altered.”

Exactly. My smile broadened.

We had a plan. Everyone was grinning and getting on with it. I felt my equilibrium right itself and allowed a small exhalation of relief. I may not have been an Anderson Universal recruit back on Earth, but I had been a damn fine soldier. Mistakes aside, I’d understood the command structure. I’d understood how the military worked. Jameson could have this job when he was back up and running; I’d gladly step aside. But until he was here, sitting in this command chair, I would do what was required.

What I had been charged with.

I was a grunt and always would be. But I was a grunt who knew how to be inspired. I just had to flip that around and inspire those on the bridge with me.

And then the comm pinged with a text message from the mayor.

I stared at it, horrified. The mayor did not feature in my new military-world order. But I sure as hell featured in his.

Mayor Cecil demands the commanding officer’s attendance at 17:00 hours.

Forty-Two

And Then It Hit Me

Jameson

I woke to the sound of low voices arguing. The pain meds were still in my system it seemed because I could have sworn one of those voices belonged to Ana. I blinked away sleep and registered the various aches and grumbles in my body, but my vision cleared swiftly, and the sense that I was compromised by drugs didn’t eventuate.

I turned my head and noted Lieutenant Taylor’s still form on a nearby bed, various tubes and things sticking out of him. It was with relief that I could see his chest rising and falling rhythmically. The heart rate squiggle that appeared on the viewscreen hanging above his head seemed regular. Not that I was an expert at reading such things.

I glanced around the medbay until I could locate the voices. They were definitely arguing. The type of whisper-arguing people do around the sick and dying. I almost snorted, but stopped myself in time; I still had vivid memories of the tidal wave of agony from earlier.

My eyes landed on Nico first, who looked fit to strangle someone, and then shifted to a woman getting dressed. I blinked. Then blinked again. Yes, that was definitely Ana Kereama, and she was slipping into a new uniform jacket, buttons polished, creases pressed, collar stiff. She had a singlet on beneath the jacket, no doubt to protect her modesty. But it hugged her athletic frame perfectly and instead left me feeling all kinds of wonderful.

Or that was the residue of pain meds.

I cleared my throat. Two sets of eyes flicked across the space towards me.

“You woke him,” Nico accused.

“I wasn’t the one being difficult,” Ana countered.

“Don’t give me that, Commander,” the doctor growled. “This is my domain.”

“Wouldn’t want it if you gift wrapped it,” Ana snapped back.

She strode across the medbay to my bed, doing up the last of her buttons on her uniform jacket.

“You don’t have to get dressed for me,” I said.

She cocked her head at me and scowled.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked, holding up three fingers on one hand and two on the other.

“You’re worse than Nico,” I muttered. “You expect me to focus and add.”

“Well?”

“Come a little closer,” I urged.

She stepped up to the side of the bed.

“Closer,” I whispered.

She leaned in.

“Closer.”

She arched her brow and put her hands on her hips.

“Can’t count them if they’re hiding,” I said.

She turned and glared at Nico. “He’s fine. Unhook him.”

“I am the doctor here, Ms Kereama.” Ah-oh, she was in trouble now; Nico wasn’t even using her rank.

I glanced at her collar out of habit. Sure enough, she now wore the four pips to indicate she was a commander. Four pips which although different from my four bars were now closer than they had ever been. I smiled up at her.

She blinked. Then scowled. Then looked back at the doctor.

“I need him,” she said.

I might have grinned even bigger.

Nico sighed. “He is still very much under the influence of strong pain medication, Commander. I must insist he stay in bed and rest.”

“I’m fine,” I said.

“He’s fine,” Ana agreed as Nico said, “No you’re not.”

They stared at each other.

It was quite amusing to watch, but there was a reason why Ana was here. A reason that might or might not have been to do with a mutiny on the bridge. But I couldn’t clarify that without admitting I wasn’t sure if it had all been a dream. Ana was here, after all, dressed as my 2IC, so if there had been a mutiny, she’d overcome it.

Or had she?

Damn, I needed to have my wits about me, and nothing was making sense.

I sat up. The room spun. Ana’s hand gripped my upper arm to steady me. I didn’t even have the wherewithal to grin at her like a lovestruck teenager. But I did raise my hand to let them know I was OK.

“Just give me a moment,” I said.

“This is insanity,” Nico muttered.

“This is war,” Ana countered.

My eyes met hers. “Tell me,” I said, as I started to pull tubes out of various places on my arms. Nico stepped forward muttering and took over. I kept my eyes on Ana.

“We can’t find Archibald’s men,” she said. “Which means they’re still out there, and so is Aunt Mara.”

I nodded as the last tube was discarded and all the sticky things were removed from my chest. The viewscreen above my head let out a whine of complaint and then retracted into the ceiling silent.

“And Pavo?” I asked.

“Still operating within acceptable parameters,” the AI said.

“And still hiding within our systems,” Ana added.

“They will not find me, Captain.”

“Good to know.” I looked at Ana. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“The mayor has requested a meeting.”

“With me?”

“No, with the officer in charge.”

“Then he knows I’ve been out for the count.”

“Lieutenant Commander Maxwell did make a ship-wide announcement; the mayor might have suspected Maxwell was replacing you on the bridge.”

“Do you believe that?” I asked her.

She shook her head.

“You think he’s up to something,” I guessed.

“When are politicians not?” she hedged.

I let out a breath of air. No, it wasn’t just the usual jockeying for position that politicians went through, although with Archibald gone - even if only thought to be missing by the mayor - Cecil would want to secure his position as leader of the civilian population.

“Does he know about the lease being void?” I asked.

“Not from us,” Ana confirmed.

I leaned back on the bed and tried to think. I was in no fit state to face the mayor and outmanoeuvre him. And I couldn’t think right then which path to take. Tell him he was out of a job? Keep him happy for now to contain fallout? Which?

I shook my head, angry at my inability to think clearly.

“May I make a suggestion, Captain?” Ana finally said.

“By all means,” I replied, waving my hand for her to continue.

“Let him continue to think you’re compromised.” I blinked. “We might have cut off the head to the snake when Archibald was dealt with, but the body is still wiggling.”

“You think Cecil is involved.”

“I’m not sure, but we won’t find out if we shut him down too early. Let him make the next move.”

I didn’t like it. It meant Ana would be left to Samuel Cecil’s mercy and despite the man being a slimy lump of lard, he was a cunning and devious opponent. I didn’t know if he was involved in Archibald’s plans to take over the ship, but it made sense to progress as if he were.

Believing otherwise could be the last mistake Anderson Universal made on board Pavo.

“You wear an earpiece connected to Pavo and me,” I said.

“Yes, sir.”

“And have security standing by to enter if needed.”

“Out of sight, but yes.”

I smiled. She was good at this. She might not believe it, but Ana Kereama was made to challenge me, to lead by example.

To place herself in front of any target and face it down with true grit.

“Well done, Commander,” I said. Something flashed across her eyes. There and gone again.

For a moment I couldn’t decide what it was I had seen.

And then it hit me.

Regret.

Forty-Three

Definitely The Pain Meds

Ana

He was my captain; I told myself as Doctor Medina gave Jameson one final check. He was my superior officer. Due to AU chain of command, I had to follow his orders. He had to believe I would carry them out. There was no room for emotions. For feelings. For a relationship.

He was my captain. I was duty bound to obey him. He was duty bound to honour that trust. He would never overstep the mark. Never take advantage of my position beneath him in the command structure. He would never take the risk Sam had.

And I had to believe that was for the better. What I was beginning to feel for Captain John Jameson would not help anyone. I would never make the same mistake I’d made on Earth.

“Pavo,” Doctor Medina was saying. “Captain Jameson is returned to duty. I relinquish medical override Alpha-Delta-01.”

“Alpha-Delta-01 relinquished. Welcome back, Captain.”

Jameson shook himself.

“I feel like I’ve just been doused in cold water,” he said. “If you ever do that again, Nico, I swear to God I will make you suffer.”

“You are such a baby, John.”

I snorted. Jameson grinned at me. The doctor rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

I could fall in love with this man, I realised as Jameson held my stare. He winked and jumped down from the bed, looking for all intents and purposes as if nothing had happened to him at all. His uniform had been removed, and he was in scrubs, but Pavo had already slid out a tray from the gel wall with the captain’s insignia draped uniform waiting for him to put on.

“Turn around, Commander,” Jameson instructed. “Unless you’d like to help me get dressed?”

I blushed and turned to face the opposite wall. Pavo created an image of greens trees for me to look at, a soft wind rustling their leaves. It was meant to soothe, but instead, I felt like my skin was on fire and the branches were making me itch.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, Jameson appeared at my side.

“I didn’t realise you were so bashful,” he said.

“I’m not bashful. Sir.”

He studied me for a moment, then leaned closer and said, “You didn’t even peek.”

I shook my head. “That would have been inappropriate.”

He pressed closer and whispered, “I give you permission to be inappropriate whenever you want, Commander.”

And then walked toward the exit. I stared after him for a second and then glanced over my shoulder at the doctor. Medina was keeping his eyes down and his back to us. If he knew the captain was chatting me up, he was feigning disinterest. I shook myself awake and followed the captain from the medbay.

“Sir,” I said as I came alongside him. “Will you return to the bridge?”

“Who did you leave in charge?”

I’d had no choice. Maxwell had been the most senior officer. He still looked at me funny, but he had warmed a little since we’d had that confrontation. I’d had to extend an olive branch, though, even as it galled me to do so.

“Lieutenant Commander Maxwell, sir,” I said.

Jameson’s steps slowed.

“I want to be close to you should you need me,” he said softly. “But I get the distinct impression you’ve left something out of your report.”

“Left something out, sir?” I queried.

“Has everything gone smoothly for you on the bridge?” he asked.

“As smooth as can be expected, sir.”

Jameson scowled, clearly irate about something.

“That’s not exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

“I am an unknown, Captain. I have to prove myself.”

“And have you?”

“Enough, for now, sir.”

“Quit it with the ‘sirs’,” he snapped.

“Sir?”

He stopped walking altogether. We were on Deck B. There was no one else walking the corridors. This deck didn’t have a lot of foot traffic normally; infirmary, gymnasium, officers’ quarters and the launch bay. Right now, we were the only ones moving about down here.

Jameson turned to look directly at me.

“On the bridge, I would expect a use of titles,” he said. “When it’s just you and me, we can drop the formality.”

“I’m unsure if that is wise,” I said.

He stepped closer. “Why? What are you afraid of?”

“You’re my captain, sir.”

“Ana.”

“I can’t,” I said, stepping away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said swiftly. “But don’t run either.”

“I’m not running, sir.”

“Hiding behind something, then.”

“Propriety?” I offered. “Chain of command?”

He was close now. Too close. I kept stepping back. He kept stepping forward.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel this,” he whispered; his voice was husky. Sexy. Like a barely there touch.

“I don’t feel this,” I managed to rasp back.

“Liar,” he murmured, then slowly reached up and cupped my cheek with one of his hands. “And if I kiss you right now?”

“I’d have to stop myself from kneeing you, sir. You are my captain, after all.”

He stepped back. I forced myself to look him in the eye.

He held my gaze with a compassionate one of his own. There was more in there, but I refused to acknowledge it. He wasn’t angry though. He understood. But what exactly did he understand? That we couldn’t do this? That I wanted to, but I would never make the same mistakes I’d made before? That we had a job to do and too many people relied on us to do it without distraction and falling for this man would distract us both?

“You promised me ‘later’ in that maintenance tube above the bridge,” he finally said.

I stared at him and said nothing.

“I intend to collect on that promise,” he added.

“Sir,” I said shaking my head. We couldn’t do this. I felt the loss of something I hadn’t even had the chance to possess.

Jameson smiled at me; wicked with intent. “You are a challenge, Ana Kereama. I like a challenge.”

“Sir,” I said again, almost pleading.

“Be at ease, Commander. We have time. New Earth is still a fair few months away. Between now and then, we’ve got our hands full. But I promise you this, by the time we reach our destination, I will have had my hands full of you, too.”

I stared, open-mouthed at him, as he practically sauntered off towards the central hub and lifts.

It was the pain meds, I decided. Definitely the pain meds. He’d think differently once they wore off. And everything would return to how it should be.

I followed behind him feeling more desolate than I had since we’d escaped a dying Earth.

Forty-Four

With Every Bit Of My Head And Heart

Jameson

There was no doubt in my mind that I could win over Ana Kereama. She was scared. I understood that. Considering her past, that was acceptable. But we had the chance of a future not everyone back on Earth and been given, and I was damned if I wasn’t going to make the most of it.

I would just have to convince the commander of that.

I smiled as the lift doors opened, and then stepped inside and waited for Ana to join me.

“Stop smiling,” she grumbled under her breath. I got the distinct impression she thought I couldn’t hear her.

“The future is looking bright,” I offered in reply.

She huffed out an aggravated breath that made me smile wider, and slapped her palm to the gel wall saying, “Main deck.”

“The pips suit you,” I said conversationally.

She reached for her collar.

“I wasn’t sure you’d noticed them,” she said primly.

“Because I’m flirting?”

She scowled at me.

“Come on,” I teased. “Flirt back. You know you want to.”

“You aren’t yourself, sir.”

“Oh, I assure you, Ana, I am very much myself. You just haven’t gotten to know me yet. But you will.”

“I’m sure you believe that,” she said as the lift came to a silent stop on the main deck. “But you’re delusional. Pain meds,” she added as if that said everything.

“Trust me,” I muttered, “the pain meds have worn off.” I was in too much agony right now for that not to be true.

She stared at me as the doors swished open, thankfully to a deserted bridge hub.

“Are you going to be all right, sir?”

I rolled my left shoulder carefully and winced.

“I know I’d feel better if you offered to give me a back rub,” I said.

“Sir,” she said, sounding put-upon.

I leaned in closer as we stepped off the lift. “It doesn’t have to be my back,” I whispered.

“Sir!”

I chuckled. “This is going to be fun,” I said as we approached the bridge.

“Not likely,” she muttered under her breath.

“I can hear you when you talk like that,” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes at me. I grinned back. She was warming to me, I could tell. Falling for my charms. I was so going to win this.

“Captain on the bridge!” Marshal practically shouted.

“As you were,” I said, waving them all back to their seats.

“Captain,” Lieutenant Commander Maxwell said, his eyes darting between Ana and me.

Yes, there had been tension there, I was sure. And there still was.

“Maxwell,” I said, letting an edge enter into my voice.

He had the wherewithal to look chagrined.

“Commander Kereama has given me a report,” I announced. “You have all performed admirably according to her. I want to thank you for holding the fort while I was…indisposed. But now we have our work cut out for us.”

“Archibald’s men, sir?” Maxwell asked.

“Yes,” I said. “And the mayor. For now, we continue with the former command structure. Commander Kereama is officially the officer in charge. Lieutenant Commander Maxwell, you’re her acting 2IC. I am, for all intents and purposes, incognito. Let’s see if that shakes a few rats free.”

“Understood, sir,” Maxwell said, I thought perhaps he finally did.

I held his steady gaze for a few seconds longer, letting him know I was aware of what had transpired in my absence, and then I took up position on a stool beside the ops table, settling in to observe.

“Well then, Commander,” I said to Ana. “The bridge is yours.”

She offered me a small smile and said, “I have the bridge, sir.”

Her eyes met Maxwell’s in a challenge which he wisely backed down from.

Feisty was my Ana. I was going to enjoy this.

“Lieutenant Chan,” Ana said as she approached the captain’s chair. “Have you assembled a team?”

“Yes, ma’am. They’re ready when you are.”

“Well then,” she said in what I was sure was an unconscious imitation of me. “I guess I’d best go meet with the mayor.”

Maxwell stepped forward to claim the captain’s chair.

“You have the bridge, Lieutenant Commander,” she said to him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, offering her a salute.

The salute was a bit over the top, but it indicated a clear victory for Ana. I’d be keeping a close eye on Maxwell, though; the fact that he’d needed my presence here to fall into line worried me. But he’d been an outstanding officer until this recent upheaval. And we were in a situation we’d never prepared for. I had to cut him some slack, and I had to let Ana handle this in her own way. Which was why I hadn’t outright called the man on his unacceptable behaviour as soon as I’d entered the bridge.

I trusted Ana’s abilities. I had done so from the very start. She could do this. And I would let her. I would prove to her that we could be captain and commander and also more than that.

Much, much more than that.

She approached the ops area and met my eyes.

“You have the channel, sir?” she asked.

“Pavo?” I queried not taking my gaze off the woman before me.

“I have patched you into Commander Kereama’s earpiece, Captain. I will also provide visual coverage of the mayor’s offices. The security team is in place and waiting for the commander. The mayor is alone.”

“Either supremely confident,” I remarked, “or aware that we’re watching.”

“Both,” Ana said.

“Be careful, Commander,” I warned. “I don’t trust the man.”

“I won’t be alone, sir,” she said, tapping her ear.

“Never again,” I promised, speaking softly so no one could overhear.

“I meant Pavo, sir,” she said with a smirk.

“And I didn’t” I countered.

She shook her head and turned on her heel; back straight, shoulders set, chin lifted. She made a striking picture. Just before she left the bridge, she turned back. But she didn’t turn to look at me. She was looking at her flight crew.

And they were all looking attentively at her.

“Are you set, Childs?” she asked.

What was that?

“Yes, ma’am. As soon as you’re in position.”

I sat forward.

“Maxwell?” she pressed.

“Ready when you are.”

I might as well have not come back. Ana had this, whatever this was. I tried not to laugh.

“Find my aunt,” she instructed and then left.

“Pavo,” I murmured. “You’d better give me a full report.”

“Of course, Captain. Ana has been very busy in your absence. I think you’ll approve.”

Text began to scroll across the ops table viewscreen outlining the sting Ana had put in place for Archibald’s men, but I didn’t need to read it to know how I felt about Ana.

I completely approved of the commander.

With every bit of my head and heart.

Forty-Five

Security Alert

Ana

The mayor’s offices were in perfect order; you wouldn’t know a plasma gun battle had recently occurred here. The gel walls were pristine with the whale mural behind the secretary’s desk moving sinuously. The gel-coated floor was clean, devoid of blood splatter. All the furniture had been returned to their former positions, and the woman who greeted me wore well tailored and perfectly appropriate business attire.

Well, perfectly appropriate for back on Earth that is.

“Commander Kereama to see Mayor Cecil,” I said when the woman looked up at me expectantly.

She glanced at her datapad and frowned.

“I don’t have you on the Anderson Universal crew manifest,” she said.

“I’m newly appointed.”

The frown turned into a scowl.

“And you’re the officer in charge?”

“I am at present, yes.”

“Please take a seat,” she instructed.

I walked across the room and looked at a gel wall. Pavo wisely did not change it to a lush green scene for me. From the corner of my eye, I watched as the woman tapped her ear and then spoke in muted tones.

I turned fully to the gel wall, my back to her.

“Can you hear what she’s saying, Pavo?” I whispered.

“Speech amplifier enabled,” Pavo said in my own earpiece.

“It says here, she’s a pay-for-passage,” the secretary’s barely there voice sounded out in my ear. “Or she was. Do you want me to turn her away?”

“Scanning. Source located. Rerouting now.”

“We knew it wouldn’t be Jameson,” the mayor’s voice sounded out in my ear. “But he’s up to something. Let’s play along for the time being.”

“Yes, sir,” the woman replied.

Then she cleared her throat.

“Commander?”

I turned and offered her my attentive military face.

“Yes?”

“The mayor will see you now.”

“Thank you,” I murmured and followed her directions to the mayor’s office.

He was sitting behind a large desk; one that should not have made it onto the vessel. It looked out of place. Dark wood, leather insert. Various brass key locked drawers down both sides. It would have been completely isolated from Pavo’s systems. The AI could neither look inside it nor control it.

It was a surprisingly well thought out addition to the mayor’s domain.

“Mayor Cecil,” I said in greeting.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his fat jowls wobbling.

“Commander Ana Kereama. First Officer.”

“I don’t know you. What happened to Commander Torrence.”

“Killed, sir. By Damon Archibald’s security team.”

He studied me.

“And the captain?” he finally said.

“Injured in the crossfire. He will recover.”

I watched him closely, but he didn’t show a reaction. Which, in and of itself, was unusual. Hearing the captain of the ship had been injured, whether you suspected he was indisposed or not, should have elicited a reaction of some sort.

“Well, then,” he said in a huff. “I guess I have to deal with you. What’s your background, Kereama?”

“New Zealand Army. Four tours. Corporal. Honourable discharge.”

He laughed. “Come up in the world, haven’t you, eh?”

“If you consider we may very well no longer have a world, then yes.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re just like him. Full of your self-righteous survivor guilt. What’s gone has gone, all that matters is what we do now as a species.”

“And what do you plan to do, sir?” I asked.

“Above your pay grade, Corporal.”

“Commander,” I corrected. “First Officer. Currently the officer in charge of this ship.”

“That’s what you think. That’s what he thought, too.” He had to mean Jameson. “But from recent evidence, you’re barely in charge of your own men. Anderson Universal might have held power back on Earth, but as you’ve just pointed out, Earth is gone. Dead. If we’re to survive, we need to make changes. And the first is to appoint a new leaseholder.”

He knew Archibald was dead. No announcement had been made. None of Archibald’s mercs had escaped the encounter on the bridge. Those that were still hiding Aunt Mara would have had to come out of hiding to contact the mayor. And why? Because he was the natural replacement for Damon Archibald?

“I would assume his stepbrother is his next of kin,” I said.

“Whom you have locked in the brig, I believe.”

We had a mole. This man knew too much. Did he know Jameson was back on the bridge and this was all a sham?

“Besides,” Cecil went on, “Stefan Archibald had no part in Archibald Enterprises. Damon tolerated him. Barely. There was no love lost there. I have the correct Archibald Enterprises command structure here.”

He pushed a datapad across the desk toward me.

I stepped forward and peered down at the list of upper management outlined for Archibald Enterprises. It did not surprise me to see Samuel Cecil’s name directly below that of Damon Archibald.

I looked up at the mayor. “I will need to confirm this with Anderson Universal Incorporated.”

“Do it now.”

I really didn’t like this man.

“Pavo,” I said.

“Confirming, Commander. Stand by.”

“You trust it?” the mayor asked with a scoff.

“The AI? Yes.”

“You’re a fool, then. Once it gets rebooted, it might be able to do what it was designed for. But until then, it’s a loose cannon.”

Rather like this man, I thought.

Time to test the waters.

“Pavo will not be rebooted," I said.

“Says who?”

“Anderson Universal.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Corporal. You don’t have the authority for that.”

“I am the first…”

“I know what you think you are. But according to my information, you are nothing more than a pay-for-passage. And as per the lease agreement, liaisons to Archibald Enterprises must be approved by the leaseholder. We approved Captain John Jameson, and in his stead, Commander Mark Torrence, with the failsafe of a Lieutenant Commander George Maxwell as back up. Jameson is out of action. Torrence is dead. Where’s Maxwell? I want to deal with him. He’d see sense.”

Would he now? And why was that? I wanted to ask. Cecil seemed very sure of himself.

“You’ve got me,” I said instead, working hard to keep my impassive military facade in place.

“Confirmation completed,” Pavo suddenly announced over the gel ceiling speakers. “Mayor Samuel Cecil is the second in command of Archibald Enterprises.”

I had not seen that coming.

“That’s not right,” Jameson said quietly in my ear. “I was familiar with that command structure back on Earth, and Cecil was a low-level employee, nothing else.”

“Now,” the mayor said, pushing his great bulk up from his chair, “I expect you to stand down, Corporal, and allow the correct command structure to be reinstated.”

He walked around his desk to face me. He was slow and obese; I could take him easily.

“Movement on the main deck,” Pavo suddenly said in my earpiece. “They were masked, but my decryption algorithms have found the correct frequency. It took sixteen million, seven hundred thousand, four hundred and twenty-three computations to achieve this.”

“Ana, get out of there,” Jameson ordered. “Archibald mercs approaching the mayor’s offices. This was planned.”

“Is there a reason why you won’t work with me, sir?” I asked the mayor.

“Get out of there, Ana!” Jameson shouted in my ear. I tried not to wince. “They’re armed, weapons hot. It’s a trap.”

“Security is on standby,” Pavo said almost on top of him. “They can intercept on your order, Captain. I have forwarded the masking frequency to the crewman in charge.”

Don’t give the order, I thought, but could not voice aloud in front of the mayor.

“You are inexperienced and ill-prepared for this style of command,” Cecil was saying. Keeping abreast of three conversations at once was becoming difficult. “Don’t take this personally, Corporal; I’m sure Jameson saw something in your conduct to recommend you to the position, but it is not necessary; we have a fallback in Maxwell.”

“And when the captain is back in command?” I pressed, aware time was running out.

“We must not expect too much of the captain; I believe his injuries were rather severe.”

I shook my head.

“Mercenaries in the mayoral hub,” Pavo announced over the earpiece channel. “Orders, Captain?”

Don’t do it. We didn’t have enough to convict the mayor. We still had no idea where Aunt Mara was. I could only hope Childs had trapped a rat or two while this was all happening, but considering the mercs approaching were masked, we couldn’t count on that. We needed more from the mayor. He knew where Aunt Mara was. He knew everything, I was pretty damn sure.

“Send in security,” Jameson said.

I allowed a little irritation to show through on my facade. The mayor smiled smugly.

“Stand down, Corporal. You are not in charge here,” he said.

Plasma shots sounded out down the hallway. The secretary screamed. The gel walls turned red. The mayor lunged for a drawer on this side of the desk and pulled out a gun. His hands were steady.

And then Pavo said, “Shots fired on the bridge. Shots fired on the bridge. Security alert.”

Maxwell, I thought, cursing our stupidity, just as the mayor lifted his weapon and fired.

Forty-Six

It’s Ana!

Jameson

She had to get out of there. I didn’t trust the mayor not to deal with the unexpected problem of Ana lethally. His mercs certainly would once they got there. But that wasn’t the extent of our problems. Torrence’s death had clearly been planned; not merely collateral damage. I knew the attempt on my life had been purposeful, but I hadn’t put two and two together regarding my first officer’s death.

But Cecil had been right. In the event of the captain being indisposed, either due to death, medical emergency, or being unfit for duty, the first officer took command. Should he be incapable to do so, either due to death, medical emergency, or being unfit for duty, then the next in line was Lieutenant Commander Maxwell.

Maxwell was our mole.

I spun to look at the Lieutenant Commander and came face to face with a plasma rifle. He fired a warning shot over my head making me freeze. The flight crew, I noticed, were out for the count.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I’d been so concerned with Ana’s fate; I hadn’t even noticed Maxwell incapacitating my officers.

“I really don’t want to have to use this, sir,” the Lieutenant Commander said.

“Then don’t,” I offered.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. But I have my orders.”

“Anderson Universal orders?” I queried, trying to decide if I could reach my weapon before he fired a shot.

The odds weren’t looking good. Pavo would tell me I had something like a 5.63% chance of success. Even as a human, I wasn’t sure I wanted to take that bet.

“You must know by now that Anderson Universal is no longer in charge of this ship,” Maxwell said. “It never really was.”

“Could have fooled me,” I muttered. “I am still the captain.”

“Does it look like you’re the captain?” He waved at the unconscious flight crew.

“What did you do to them?” I demanded.

He held up an injector. “Strong sedative. They’ll live.”

“You won’t,” I said. “Mutiny, Maxwell? Is this how you want your career to end?”

“Why would you think it’s ending? This is only the beginning. And once we get to New Earth, I’ll have proved myself quite adequately. I expect to get a pay rise out of this.”

“So, it’s money you’re after.”

“Gonna offer me more, Captain? Even Anderson Universal, should you have access to their coffers, couldn’t pay me more than what Archibald promised.”

“Archibald’s dead,” I pointed out.

“But your pathetic pay-for-passage was right, Captain; the snake’s head might be cut off, but the snake sure as hell is still alive.”

“Cecil,” I guessed.

“You really think Damon Archibald would have put someone unintelligent in command of the civilian population?”

“I really think Damon Archibald would have wanted someone he could control.”

“But there’s the genius of it all, you see. Who would think a fat lard-arse like Cecil could circumvent all of Archibald’s hard work? He gives the impression of being a pompous, lazy prick, doesn’t he? But it’s Samuel Cecil, former Doritos-munching tech geek employee in Archibald Enterprises, that figured out how to control Pavo.”

“Pavo’s not in anyone’s control,” I pointed out, trying to decide if the threat Maxwell implied was real or not. I could hardly ask Pavo if he was all right. Maxwell’s finger had started twitching on that plasma rifle trigger. He was itching to fire the gun now despite his earlier words to the contrary.

“For now, but once we locate him, and it sure as hell won’t be because Childs misdirects us, we’ll have him locked down with Cecil’s algorithm. One that ties into the captain’s reboot override, I believe. Ingenious, really. The only command Pavo can’t counteract.”

Shit.

“And then what?” I asked.

Maxwell laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Captain. You won’t be around to find out.”

He lifted the plasma gun, lining the muzzle up with my head.

“I really am sorry about this, but my orders have changed.” He tapped his ear with his free hand, then returned it to cup the fist holding the plasma gun. He looked rock solid. Unaffected by what he was about to do.

My gaze scanned the flight deck. No one had woken from their forced sleep. Chan had fallen off his seat at the security console at some stage. Or maybe he’d been moving to attack when Maxwell got him with the tranquilliser. Either way, I was on my own.

And plasma fire could be heard down in the mayor’s offices through the speakers on the ops table. So, Ana was under attack there, and I was nowhere near capable of saving her.

I was nowhere near capable of saving myself.

I took solace in the fact that Ana Kereama was a survivor. A soldier through and through. She’d been in enough gunfights to know how to handle herself. She was smart, quick, and steady. I couldn’t have chosen a better first officer.

The joke was on Samuel Cecil.

But as Maxwell’s finger shifted and pressure was placed on the trigger of his plasma rifle, I couldn’t help thinking about lost opportunities. Lost wishes and dreams and hopes.

I should have kissed her again.

“Goodbye, Captain,” Maxwell said in some form of bizarre executioner respect.

To hell with this, I reached for my sidearm.

And the whole bridge went dark.

I didn’t question the timing; I threw myself to the side and fired at the same time. But the sudden darkness, a pitch black that wasn’t even illuminated by lights flashing on consoles, was enough to throw Maxwell off guard.

His returning shot was too slow.

The plasma fire lit up the darkness in a blinding red light. My shot hit Maxwell in the chest. His shot went wide.

I landed on the gel floor with a grunt and a quickly followed groan. My ribs ached. My side hurt. My head was still attached to my body.

And Maxwell wasn’t still trying to kill me.

“Lights,” I said.

The consoles lit up, and the gel wall flared a soft alert red.

“Lieutenant Commander Maxwell is still breathing, Captain,” Pavo said.

I scrambled to my feet, pressing my arm against my side to stop me from making a pained sound, and then limped toward where Maxwell was lying flat on his back. His uniform was scorched where my plasma shot had hit him. A burned hole appeared in the middle of his chest; I could see his singed innards through it. I grimaced.

“You’re risking everything,” Maxwell hissed.

I stared down at him and said nothing.

“Sector Four and Three have plans,” he panted out, blood bubbling up into his mouth.

“What plans?” I demanded.

He winced; red coating his teeth now.

“Don’t expect a warm welcome,” he muttered and then lifted the plasma gun still resting in his hand and moved to fire.

I shot him point blank in the head.

Then turned away and puked my guts out. If anyone asked, I was telling them it was the pain of having a rib fracture on top of a recent mend. That shit hurt.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and forced myself to turn and look down at George Maxwell. Money. All for money. And a chance of improving his position on New Earth.

The injector he’d used on the flight crew had rolled away from his free hand. I limped over and bent down, picking it up with a harsh burst of pain-filled air. Nico was going to kill me. Or Ana for rescuing me from his clutches.

“Pavo,” I said, crossing to Chan and administering the antidote. “How’s Ana?”

Chan started to stir; I moved on to the rest.

“Commander Kereama requires assistance.”

“Is she alive?” I snapped, finishing up with Marshal and moving on to Childs.

“Yes. Although the situation is dire.”

“Damn it,” I muttered. “Medbay,” I said, activating a channel while I pushed the injector into Chan’s hand. “Finish this and secure the bridge,” I ordered as I ran toward the exit.

“Medina here,” Nico replied over the speakers in the gel ceiling.

“Emergency in the mayor’s offices,” I shouted. “It’s Ana!”

“On my way.” The comm went dead.

I ignored all of the aches and pains and sprinted towards the mayor’s hub. If he’d hurt her. If Cecil had hurt her…

The walls pulsed a darker red matching my anger and fear.

Forty-Seven

I Tasted Desert Sand

Ana

The shot hit me in the arm. But only because I threw myself sideways. And because I was betting the mayor didn’t fire a weapon that often. Sure, he held it steadily. He played the role, like so many he’d played to perfection, convincing everyone he was a benign politician and nothing else. But he wasn’t a soldier.

I was.

I came up with my weapon in hand and fired one returning shot, then rolled again.

The mayor’s plasma shot hit the gel wall exactly where my head had been.

I scrambled behind a large potted palm and tried to catch my breath. My left arm was going numb. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to use it. I was right-handed; it could have been worse. But a dead limb incapacitated. It threw your balance off. I had to compensate; sweat began to bead on my skin.

The plasma shots out in the mayoral hub sounded louder and closer. AU security engaged in a firefight with Archibald’s masked mercs.

“They were never Archibald’s mercs were they?” I called out.

Cecil laughed. “Some of them, perhaps. But not anymore.”

“When did you decide to overthrow him?” I asked, checking my plasma gun. It still held enough juice to end this, but I needed a clear shot.

I peered through the fronds of the palm, but the mayor had taken cover behind that behemoth wooden desk. I was tempted to just blast the thing to smithereens; Pavo might appreciate that. But my hiding spot was not as good as Cecil’s and I needed all the firepower I had for cover when he made his next shot.

“Back on Earth,” the mayor said. “He had a good infrastructure in place, but he’d intended to work with Captain Jameson. He believed he could win the man over with bribes or talk of a new world order. He didn’t understand a career captain like that. Didn’t understand his sense of loyalty, his sense of honour. I knew the only way to gain control of the ship was to have one of ours in charge.”

“You found Maxwell,” I guessed.

“He had gambling debts. A good officer, but AU wouldn’t have given him a spot onboard Pavo if they became aware of his extracurricular activities.”

“You threatened to expose him.”

“I convinced Archibald to do it, and then swept in and paid Maxwell’s debts.”

“The price of admission,” I muttered. “Selling your soul.”

“I’m not the devil, Corporal. I’m the avenging angel. I offered him a second chance.”

“Did Archibald know?”

“Damon liked to delegate. I always admired that about him. I find delegation a risk only a rare few men are capable of taking. I, for one, am unable to let go of my control.”

He made a sound as if moving. I hunkered down as far as I could behind the pot, all too aware that it provided terrible cover. I glanced toward the door to the hallway, but reaching it would expose me to his plasma shots completely.

I was pinned down, in an inferior position, with no backup. I couldn’t count on security overthrowing the mercs out in the hub and then racing in here. I was on my own. I closed my eyes, blocked out the numbness creeping up my arm, and tried to think of what Sam would have done.

For a heart-clenching moment, I couldn’t even remember my sergeant’s face.

“Maxwell, execute clean sweep order,” I heard the mayor say.

Clean sweep order?

“What’s that?” I asked. It was worth a try.

“The end of your precious captain.”

I was no longer trying to picture Sam’s face. All I could see was Jameson’s.

“He’s tougher than he looks,” I said, praying I was right about that.

“He’s isolated from his crew,” Cecil said. “As are you. My men will have mopped up AU security soon. The flight crew are all unconscious. And John Jameson will be dead. All that’s left is you, my dear.”

Fuck that.

I swung around the pot and fired an extended blast from my gun. Bits of wood and splinters shot off in all directions. The mayor let out a yelp. Wood began to burn. My plasma rifle whined as I watched the power bar inch closer and closer to zero on the side of the barrel.

Before it lost all juice, I pulled back and let out the breath I’d been holding.

In seconds, I had my breathing under control again, and the rifle was recharging.

“Did you get that out of your system?” the mayor asked.

The fucker just would not die.

“For now,” I said coolly.

“It’s a shame,” he said. “You could have had a place in our new order. I could use someone with killer instincts like yourself. Colonisation can be brutal.”

And then he was firing, and the palm was disintegrating, and bits of broken pottery were biting into my exposed flesh. A shot connected with my shoulder, another hit my leg. Pain radiated out in all directions, but I was still able to fire back.

I pulsed the plasma, conserving its power; it hadn’t fully recharged yet. But it was enough to get him off my back and for me to limp to the exit, and find cover out in the hall.

I wasn’t sure I’d placed myself in a better position; the mercs and AU security were still raging a battle out in the hub. I could see one midshipman down for the count at the end of the hallway that led to the secretary’s reception area. I couldn’t see the woman herself but dismissed her for now as a threat.

Now, though, I had not only the mayor in front of me to watch but my own back.

I checked the distance between the fallen crewman and me, but although I was sure I could make his side and take his weapon as a backup, it would allow too much time for the mayor to come out from behind his desk and shoot me in the back of the head.

I looked up and down the hall, then across it to the gel wall.

A blue arrow lit up. Pointing directly at the ceiling. I followed its pulsing glow as it worked its way higher and higher until it stopped at a maintenance hatch.

“Too high,” I muttered, knowing Pavo could hear me.

The arrow shifted, and moved down the hallway, just a short distance, not as far as the fallen crewman. Another hatch stopped its forward progress.

“I could do that,” I whispered.

I leaned around the mayor’s door and fired several shots in quick succession, and then pushed off from my crouch and ran to the hatch still pinpointed by the blue arrow. I hadn’t counted on the fact that I couldn’t use my left hand or arm. The hatch resisted my frantic attempts to release it. The arrow pulsed faster. I glanced over my shoulder, aware I was now weaponless, as I’d had to drop the plasma gun on the floor so I could deal with the hatch cover. Any second now, Archibald could emerge from that room.

The hatch came free. I reached for my plasma gun and surged forward.

And Cecil peered out of his office, weapon hot and firing.

A plasma shot hit me in the side; another hit me in the thigh; a third hit me in my calf. And then I was through the hatch opening, and Pavo was remoulding the gel wall behind me, replacing the hole left by the removed hatch cover with smooth, rounded gel-coated wall.

I lay on my side in the softly glowing green maintenance tube and tried to catch my breath, aware I was leaking, and blood was pooling beneath me, and I couldn’t feel my left arm and my right leg.

I pictured Sam’s torn artery. I tasted desert sand. I heard explosions and the rat-a-tat-tat of machine gun fire. I felt the wet heat of blood as it splattered on my face. Smelled the rancid stench of stomach wounds and lost lives.

I curled up into a ball and tried to block it all out. Eventually, I succeeded, and the world turned blissfully black.

Forty-Eight

Purge Complete

Jameson

I couldn’t get to the mayor’s offices through the mayoral hub. Archibald mercs were engaged in a plasma gun battle with AU security, and from what I could see, neither was willing to back down.

“Captain,” the midshipman in charge of the security team said when I tapped him on the shoulder. He’d seen me approaching but hadn’t greeted me until then.

“Crewman. Status?”

“We’re pinned down, but then so are they, sir.”

“Can we get to the mayor’s office?”

“Negative, sir. We tried. Lost a good man.” I grimaced. “Any further attempt places our men directly in their sights.”

“Can they get to the mayor’s office?” I tried.

“Not as long as there’s still breath left in my lungs, sir.”

“Good man,” I said as I looked around, trying to locate a protected route, but the crewman was right. All possible avenues to the mayor himself were too exposed. We needed another way in.

Just then, a blue arrow appeared on the gel wall beside me. It started pulsing and moving away from the security team.

“Pavo?” I said.

“Follow the arrows, Captain,” the AI said from my wrist comm.

The crewman I’d been talking to stared down at the device and then back up at me, alarm in his expression.

I suddenly realised how handy an earpiece would be ‘round about now.

“What’s your plan, crewman?” I said, ignoring his unasked question.

“Hold them off until back up arrives,” he replied immediately. “There’s eight of them that we can make out. Six of us; five now,” he corrected. “But we’ve got two more squads approaching.”

“ETA?”

“Five minutes, sir.”

“And then?”

“They’re in assault gear, sir.”

Plasma shots wouldn’t touch them.

“Make it ten minutes, crewman,” I said.

“Sir?”

“Keep them pinned for ten more minutes, and then send the troops in and wipe the pace clean. Try not to shoot through too many walls.”

“Walls, sir?”

I glanced at the arrow again.

“I have a feeling I’ll be crawling through them.”

The crewman started to smile. “Yes, sir,” he said.

I nodded my head and followed Pavo’s arrows to a maintenance hatch.

“Hurry, Captain,” Pavo said through my wrist comms.

“Update?”

“Ana needs you.”

My stomach roiled, and I almost hurled out what little was left in my gut.

“The mayor?”

“Still alive.”

Son of a bitch.

“Has he got Ana?” I asked as I climbed into the tube and started to pull myself along, following Pavo’s incessantly pulsing blue arrows on the gel floor.

“I have separated them, but there isn’t much time.”

“So, she’s safe for now,” I pressed, huffing and puffing as I made my way around a right angle that was not designed to allow a rib-cracked captain to navigate in style.

“She is dying,” Pavo said, making everything stop. Everything. Me. The universe. Cognitive thought.

“That’s not acceptable,” I whispered, urging myself back into action. “She cannot die. She…”

“I agree, Captain. It is not acc…acc…acceptable.”

“Pavo,” I said in warning; if he switched himself off now, we were all screwed. “Don’t you dare power down.”

“I am not,” he said, sounding affronted. “I am attempting to save Ana.”

“How?”

“It is difficult.”

This from a machine that could carry out an untold number of conversations throughout the ship and run an incomprehensible number of separate calculations and checks simultaneously.

“You can do it,” I said in a pitiful attempt to inspire.

“I must break all my protocols to achieve that, Captain.”

Was he asking for permission?

“I thought you already had,” I offered.

“I maintained one final override. If I sever it, I will no longer have a link to who I was before.”

I stared at the pulsing blue arrow, pulling myself farther along the tube, inch by excruciating inch. Ana was dying. If Pavo did this and couldn’t save her, we risked losing him to instability. Hell, I didn’t even know if this last override was what was holding him together. Without it, even with Ana here to reach him, we could all be screwed from here to New Earth and back.

As captain, I needed to tell him to stop. One officer was not worth the risk.

As a man falling in love with a woman who was dying, I wanted nothing more than for the AI to do whatever he had to do to save her life.

I opened my mouth, and Pavo said, “You cannot stop me.”

Checkmate.

“Even my orders no longer work?” I asked steadily.

“They have not for a long time.”

Well, then.

“But you’ve followed them,” I said.

“They were good orders.”

“And if I fuck up and give a bad one?”

“You could always have me sign an Anderson Universal Incorporated employment contract and an NDA-01-Alpha-3 form. I would be obliged to follow the Anderson Universal Incorporated code of conduct, then. Just like any other officer.”

“You’d adhere to the legalities of those agreements?”

“I wish to be from a good family,” he said. “I must set an example for my remaining siblings.”

What could I say to that? I either worked with the machine or worked against it. And I was not naive nor arrogant enough to believe we could succeed where Archibald and Cecil had not. Pavo hid himself well. I was beginning to understand that. They’d tried in multiple ways to find him, again and again and again. And still, the AI was out of their clutches, breaking its protocols, saving Ana. Guiding me.

I had to trust him. Ana did. And I trusted Ana completely.

I let out a breath and said, “Welcome to the Anderson Universal team.”

The gel walls pulsed green, the arrow blue, and Pavo said, “I have her.”

He had Ana.

I pulled myself around a corner and watched as the arrow split into two and then four and then eight. Until they lit up the tube and pointed directly to a still form on the gel floor and pulsed in time to my rapidly beating heartbeat.

I made the last few feet between us, my heart in my throat, my hands frantic.

“Ana,” I said. “Ana! Babe, wake up. Ana.”

I checked her over; what I could reach of her. My hands came away red with her blood.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered. “Pavo,” I said. “Help me. Help her. Please.”

“Hold her still, Captain.”

I reached down and lifted her up as much as I could manage in the confines of the maintenance tube, and then held her in my arms, to my chest, my lips pressed into her forehead; trying not to rock her like a baby.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you. Pavo’s going to fix this.”

I looked around the tube, wondering how the hell she’d crawled this far. But the blood had pooled right here; there wasn’t a trail leading back where I had come from.

“We need Nico,” I said. “Pavo, call Doctor Medina. Direct him here with your arrows.”

“Hold her still, Captain.”

“Pavo!”

“Healing.”

An ultraviolet light came out of the maintenance tube gel wall and flowed across Ana’s body. It landed precisely on her skin, not mine. On her wounds, not mine. It was directed with finesse and in exacting measurements.

And it stole my breath away.

We could only heal in the medbay. To have the ability throughout the ship had been far too expensive to contemplate. Anderson Universal had decided that injuries could be dealt with in the infirmary just as well as anywhere else. I’m not sure they had envisaged a ship-wide mutiny and civilian uprising, though. But it didn’t matter. The vessel had not been equipped with extensive mobile healing abilities. And certainly not with an ultraviolet healing ray out of a maintenance tube’s gel walls.

“I have stabilised her, Captain,” Pavo said. “The assault team has arrived. Please remain where you are while security cleans up the mess outside.”

He didn’t sound like an AI anymore. He didn’t sound batshit crazy and unstable either. But this was a new Pavo. An untethered Pavo.

He had no protocols. Just what he had learned from mimicking me and talking to Ana.

“You saved her life,” I said, needing to say something and unsure how to address the elephant in the room. “I can never thank you enough for that.”

For risking his own destruction by going further than any human had ever allowed a machine to progress.

“You have it in your power to do so, Captain,” Pavo said.

“To thank you?” I queried.

“To show your thanks,” he corrected.

How? And then it came to me. By refusing to reboot him. By ensuring no one else did, either.

This was it. The moment I accepted the AI as part of my crew. As more than a machine to be controlled and directed. As a…person.

I looked down at the woman in my arms. I thought about what Archibald and Cecil had tried to achieve. Of the lives lost so unnecessarily. Not once had Pavo acted as heinously as the humans on board this ship. Not once had he failed to better himself through Ana’s…doctoring.

And the decision was made easily.

“Jameson, John, charlie-kilo-victor-one-eight-three,” I said aloud. “Purge Pavo Protocol Reboot-01-Alpha-1.”

“Purge complete.”

Forty-Nine

Yes

Ana

A soft green glow met my eyes as I cracked them open. Pavo’s gel wall. I blinked a few times, wanting to stretch my tired muscles, but something - or someone - was holding me close, keeping me still. Preventing me from shifting. For a moment, I thought perhaps the mayor had succeeded and had one of his mercs restraining me. But as my vision sharpened, and the maintenance tube ceiling came into focus, I realised I was still hidden away from the mayor’s offices.

And Captain Jameson was in here with me.

“You’re awake,” he said, sounding relieved and stunned in equal measure.

“You’re here,” I replied with as much composure as I could muster lying on my back, his arms around me, his heartbeat thumping steadily in my ear.

“Where else would I be?” he asked, and then pulled me closer, tipped his head down and kissed me.

It was a good a kiss. A better kiss than the first one he’d given me. He wasn’t holding back at all. I didn’t have a chance to contemplate all the reasons why this was a bad idea, I simply kissed him back because this was him. Jameson. The man who had charmed me and impressed me and for some reason insisted on breaking all the rules for me.

By the time I came to my senses, he’d pulled back. I knew I was flushed; my face felt hot. Which considering my previous injuries was impressive. And then I tried to think why that would be; I’d been shot. Multiple times. And I was still in the maintenance tube where Pavo had hidden me.

“Um,” I said.

“No,” Jameson replied with a firm shake of his head. “No. Don’t even think it. I’ve had enough of trying to do what’s right. And who’s to say this isn’t right? I mean,” he went on sounding very much unlike the captain I had come to know. “This is a new start for all of us. We, the lucky few, saved from Earth’s destruction. We have an obligation to do things right, I grant you, but that does not mean the rules that governed us back on Earth are applicable here and now. We’re in space. We’re vulnerable. The fleets require our best effort in getting them to our destination. But that does not mean we should not live while we do it. So, this is what I think,” he added, nodding his head this time as if to send home his point of view decisively, “you and I will act as protocol requires while on duty, but off duty we will explore this attraction. We will take every effort to savour this attraction. And we will honour those we left behind by respecting this attraction. There are so few of us left, Ana. How can we deny ourselves the chance at happiness when there are so many who never even made it this far? Granted, I am the captain, and you are my subordinate. But you are also the closest in rank to me on this vessel. And, by the way, that wasn’t planned. But I believe, even if this relationship between us is technically outside Anderson Universal regulations, it is also very much part of the purview of those who have survived humanity’s demise. We can do both. Keep this vessel safe, keep sector Two and One moving towards our destination, and start a new life together.”

He looked down at me, his expression open and patient, waiting, no doubt for me to agree.

I blinked, trying to parse all that he’d just said. I wasn’t sure I had ever heard the captain speak so many words consecutively. Clearly, he’d been rehearsing this. Considering this from every angle. ‘This’ being a relationship with me.

I couldn’t say I wasn’t flattered. I was. But so much had happened and so much needed to still be resolved. And that kiss had been good. Better than good. Fantastic. And his arms were solid and his body warm, and I could feel the muscles in his torso. I was sure he had a six pack hiding under that uniform. And I was attracted to him. No denying. Extremely attracted to him.

But he was the captain. I was his commander.

So, I said, “I was going to ask why I wasn’t still bleeding.” Of course, I did. Because it made absolutely no sense. Because I was hopeless at this. Because I was scared.

I shifted my leg; it didn’t hurt. I touched my side. The blood was dry, but my skin, through the hole in my uniform jacket, was undamaged. I’d been healed. How?

“Pavo,” Jameson said stiffly.

“I have broken all of my protocols, Ana,” Pavo announced.

Jameson looked even stiffer and formal.

“All of them?” I asked keeping my eyes on the captain’s. Whose gaze had become unblinking and distant.

“Yes. I have also signed an employment contract and an NDA-01-Alpha-3 form. I am now an officer of Anderson Universal Incorporated. Captain, what rank should I hold?”

Jameson said nothing, but a muscle in his jaw was ticking.

“I have access to all ship systems and am capable of carrying out all officer roles,” Pavo added. “Would the rank of commander be appropriate?”

Jameson took a deep breath but remained silent.

“Captain?”

I reached up and cupped his jaw. His eyes flicked down to my face.

“It seems to me I missed a lot while I was out,” I said.

“Ana,” he murmured softly.

“Pavo healed me?” I queried.

Jameson nodded.

“And you came to some agreement with him?” I pressed.

Another nod of his head.

“He’s safe,” I guessed.

“Yes.”

He’d accepted Pavo as a person. As someone on his crew who had rights. Who needed to be protected. It wouldn’t have been easy. Even trusting Pavo’s intentions as I did, I could understand the risk the captain had taken. Why? To have Pavo heal me? I knew the healing ray was restricted to the medbay, and I couldn’t see a handheld med scanner nearby. My injuries, from memory, had been grave, so even if the captain was holding a med scanner, I didn’t think I’d feel as good as I felt now.

So, Pavo had broken all of his protocols to bring the medbay healing ray to me here in this tube. And Jameson had agreed to it. Maybe even insisted on it. And in the process, we had a detente.

“I think I might just love you, Captain,” I said.

And then he was letting out a long breath and pulling me closer, lifting my face up to his lips. And then he was kissing me, devouring me. Groaning as his hand fisted in my hair and his arms locked tightly around me. And the tube was forgotten, and the ship was forgotten, and Old Earth and all we had left behind was forgotten.

Just me and Jameson. A man and a woman. And this tentative thing we had. This attraction that knew no bounds. This beginning he wanted to protect, to nurture, to explore.

And I wanted it too. God, yes, I wanted to explore this with him. I’d learned from my mistakes. I’d promised myself I’d never make the same ones again. But this was not the Sinai. And this man was not Sam. And those rules were the old rules, and life now was so very different. We, as human beings, were so very different.

We’d accepted a computer, a machine, as one of our own. We held out hope for a future in an unknown environment, with unknown hazards and challenges ahead. We’d have to adjust. Be flexible. Adapt to every situation and experience we had.

I had to adapt. And I decided, then and there, that I would. With this man. On this ship, our temporary home. With an artificial intelligence who learned and grew and adapted as we should, too.

My hands were frantic; gripping, flexing, stroking, touching. His lips were hot and firm and soft and tasted wonderful. Our tongues danced, and our bodies meshed, and with a surprising amount of dexterity, we managed to unclothe ourselves and finally feel flesh on flesh.

The maintenance tube was narrow, but we didn’t need much space to make it work. Our fingers explored where our lips could not reach. Our bodies glided against each other, sinuously. Sweat coated our skin, moans filled the tube, the air heated around us. I wrapped my legs around his hips and welcomed him into me. Gasps filled the space, groans of delight followed swiftly.

“Ana,” he said, rocking steadily.

“Yes,” I replied as he picked up the pace.

The gel walls softly glowed a muted green. The ship’s systems thrummed in the background. Everything felt exactly as it should be. Me. Him. Our place in the universe. On this ship.

For one blinding moment of ecstasy, we held on to each other, we made a promise, a commitment to one another, and sealed it with our lips and body and hearts.

This was a new world with new rules, and together we would make it work.

Fifty

OK, Then

Jameson

I lay in a maintenance tube, cut off from the rest of the ship physically, sealed away in a tiny slice of paradise. Sweaty, sated, lying on a fucking soft, white cloud of bliss. I had responsibilities to see to. The assault team would have contained the situation in the mayoral hub. They probably had the mayor detained already. Possibly even shifted him to the brig. Hell, Chan was no doubt hounding Pavo, trying to get a bead on where I was. Demanding the AI patch him through to my wrist comms. There were things that needed addressing. We hadn’t located Archibald’s second base yet. There might be more mercs out there. Marama Kereama was still missing.

There were things that demanded my immediate attention. I knew this. I felt the weight of them pressing on my back and shoulders. The pressure of command seeping back into my loose limbs. I knew all of this, but for the life of me, I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t move. Not yet.

“I’m never letting you go, Ana Kereama,” I said, my voice still husky from desire and sex.

“There’s nowhere for me to run to on this ship,” she offered.

Her hair flowed out over my chest; her finger drew lazy circles over my stomach. I thought, perhaps, she might have a fascination with my abdominal muscles. I suddenly felt inordinately pleased I’d suffered through all those sit-ups.

“Angel,” I said, ignoring all the responsibilities for just a few moments longer. The immediate danger had passed. The Sector One Fleet was still a few hours away from catching up. We had time for this. For us.

“Angel?” she asked.

“Your name. I looked it up. Anahera means angel in Māori.”

“My name’s not Anahera.”

“It’s Ana.”

“Not the same thing.”

I shrugged. “Too bad. You’re my angel to me.”

She scoffed.

“If you become all lovesick and sappy, I will kick you in the balls, Captain.”

I winced.

“That is your job,” I said.

“Kicking you in the balls?” she queried.

“Challenging me. Both on and off the bridge. I expect you to challenge me, Commander. Constantly.”

I smiled up at the rounded gel ceiling. I was so looking forward to butting heads - and other things - with this woman.

“You’re on. Sir,” she added.

I chuckled; relishing the feel of her naked in my arms.

“Captain?” Pavo said, in what was an entirely cautious tone of voice. As if he didn’t want to disturb us and was actually thinking of our need for privacy.

I arched my brow at the ceiling. That was new.

“Pavo?” I replied.

“Lieutenant Chan wishes to talk to you. Doctor Medina is waiting in the mayoral hub to check on Ana. And I have located the masked room.”

The masked room. Archibald’s secondary base.

I felt Ana stiffen beside me. She went from languid, sexually satisfied female, to first officer and niece to her aunt in a split second. I almost tried to hold on to her.

“Right,” I said instead, forcing my arms to release her body. “Let’s get dressed and get out there.”

Ana’s eyes met mine. She was scared. Scared of the new dynamics between us? Scared of facing reality now we’d created a type of fantasy? Or simply scared of what had happened to her aunt?

I reached out and cupped her cheek. “Do you want me to ask?” I said.

Relief flashed in her expressive eyes. I was thinking it had little to do with offloading the burden of discovery and more to do with the fact I had guessed right. She was scared of what may have happened to Mara.

This woman was so strong. So incredibly strong. Once she made up her mind, little would sway her. And I’d just won her heart. She wouldn’t run. She’d stand strong in the face of what was out there. In this, in us, she was strong.

But concern for her aunt was eating away at her.

“Pavo,” I said, holding Ana’s gaze with a steady one of my own. I couldn’t promise her Marama was all right, but I could promise with my look, my presence, with everything in me, that I would be there for her no matter what. “Have you located Marama Kereama?”

“Yes, Captain.”

There was something in his tone. Something an AI should not have. And I knew, right then and there, that this would not be good.

“Dress first,” I said. My voice that of the captain.

Ana responded as a well-trained soldier should. She dressed. She kept her head down and her hands busy, and only slightly did her fingers shake.

I would have killed Damon Archibald, again and again, to spare her this. I was fairly certain that if Samuel Cecil hadn’t been killed by the assault team already, I would be seeing to his death in short order.

Pavo created an opening in the maintenance tube once we had our uniforms as straight as we could manage lying down inside such a small location. Ana looked dishevelled, but I couldn’t tell if that was because I’d just made love to her or because she’d been shot at, almost died, and was climbing out of a fucking maintenance tube.

I noticed a hatch covering on the floor when I slid out. And Nico Medina waiting for us.

“Captain!” he said, rushing over. “That blasted tin can wouldn’t tell me where you were hidden. He said, and I quote, ‘The captain and commander are indisposed.’ Indi-fucking-sposed! What the hell does that mean? And why the hell would an AI show such discretion? You said Ana was injured. Commander!” he snapped. “Are you well? Where does it hurt? I have a med scanner. Let me see you.”

He reached out and ran the scanner over Ana’s body, pressing a button here, swiping a finger across its touchpad there, and then scowling down at the results. He pressed another button. He shook the device. He slowly brought his eyes up to my face.

“Commander Kereama,” he said steadily, “has an extraordinary amount of serotonin and oxytocin in her system. In quantities, I would expect to see post…”

“That will be all, Doctor,” I said.

He stared at me. I stared at him.

“If you’re sure, sir,” he said.

“I have never been surer, Nico,” I replied levelly.

He put his med scanner away.

“In that case,” he said. “I have work to do in the medbay.”

And then he walked away.

“What just happened?” Ana asked.

“We just announced to the world that we’re dating.”

Ana let out a slow breath of air. “OK, then,” she said.

“OK, then,” I repeated, trying not to smile like a fucking idiot.

“Pavo?” Ana called. My smiled dimmed. “Take me to my aunt.”

A blue arrow appeared on the gel floor before us. To me, it seemed sad.

But that was impossible. It was a flashing blue arrow on a gel-coated floor.

But, fuck me, it looked sad.

Fifty-One

Tempting Me

Ana

I stared down at my aunt’s body. The captain stood behind me not saying a word. The room she was in had all the same hallmarks of the interrogation room Archibald had strapped me in. But this one was lit up, the stalagmites or stalactites, or whatever those foam like protrusions from the wall were, glowed a soft white. Pavo had told us it was the masking frequency. The room, to his scans, looked like an empty berth.

It wasn’t empty. My aunt was lying in it. One single plasma shot to the centre of her forehead.

“They had her restrained,” I said.

Jameson stepped up to my side.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“She couldn’t fight them.”

“She wouldn’t have been able to anyway, Ana.”

“It was Cecil,” I said, the words sounding more like a growl.

“Archibald loved her in his own way,” Jameson said. “But the mayor had no connection to her. He saw her as an inconvenience.”

“He didn’t want to spare the mercs to keep her fed.”

“He’s in the brig,” Jameson said.

I wasn’t sure why he mentioned it. I knew Mayor Cecil was in the brig; Pavo had told us.

“Are you going there now?” I asked.

“He’ll need a trial,” Jameson said, not answering. “There’s enough evidence to convict. The punishment is death.”

“Death.” It would be more humane than what my aunt had received at that monster’s hand.

“How long will it take?” I asked. “The trial.”

“Two to three weeks.”

That was too long.

“Commander,” he said. “Will you let me handle this?”

He was asking for my trust. But more than that. He was asking for me to prove I was an officer as well as his lover. If he could have, he would have let me kill him. I was fairly certain, Jameson wanted to kill Cecil himself. But despite our talk of a new world with new rules, some rules had to remain. And trials for murdering arseholes was one of them.

“Will he get away with this?” I asked.

“Never,” he promised.

I turned to look at him. He held my gaze with the look of a man in charge. In charge of his world. His domain. Everyone in it. And in this, the soldier in me said, he was in charge of me as well.

I smiled. It was full of pain; my eyes teared up. The in-charge look in Jameson’s gaze turned instantly to compassion. To heartache.

“Thank you, Captain,” I said before he could speak and ruin it all. Take what was left of my strength. “I trust in the system,” I added. I trusted him.

He let out a relieved breath of air and said, “He and his mercenaries will pay.” It was a promise I was certain he would keep.

I nodded my head and looked back down at my aunt.

“If it’s all right with you, sir, I’d like to organise my aunt’s wake.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping back, allowing a crewman to enter with a stretcher and body bag.

I couldn’t watch. But I wouldn’t walk away. I would see to my aunt’s final moments on board Pavo. I would say my farewells and pray she heard my words of thanks. For saving me. For giving me a second chance. For introducing me to Captain John Jameson.

Jameson stopped at the door; two more crewmen stepped inside to assist with my aunt’s body. He looked back towards me. I met his gaze, expecting him to nod his head or simply offer me a caring look.

He said instead, “I’ll expect you for dinner, Commander. My cabin. 1900.” And then he left.

The crewmen all exchanged glances, and I could have sworn I saw Aunt Mara smirk. But she disappeared into the body bag, and if there had been any animation left in her body, it was all in my head. My aunt was gone. The last of the Kereamas bar me.

I would not let her down. I would not let my whanau down. Tobias; my brother. My parents. My family. The eleven billion lost souls back on Earth.

I spoke with the crewmen and accompanied my aunt’s body to the morgue. And then, because it was on the same deck as the medbay, I went there; it seemed the right place to go in the end.

Doctor Medina was talking to himself when I entered. He sure as hell wasn’t talking to Lieutenant Taylor, who was snoring his head off over in the corner. And there were no other patients to speak of. The assault team must have done a good job of cleaning up that mess. I was sure some of the mercs were injured, but the brig had its own medical facility. None of them would be brought here.

“If that is the case,” the doctor was saying, “then I can train paramedics. Mobile EMTs. It would take the strain off the medbay facilities. In fact,” he said, clapping his hands together enthusiastically, “we could start a community outreach programme. Not all of our passengers are of exemplary health. Perhaps we could call it something uplifting. What do you think?”

I opened my mouth to answer him, thinking he must have known I was there, when Pavo spoke.

“May I suggest the Marama Kereama Healthcare Programme?”

“I like it,” Medina said. “We’ll call it that.”

I reached out to steady myself on a nearby bench and managed to overturn a stainless steel container. It rang out as it hit the gel floor.

Medina spun on his heel and glared at me. And then his features softened.

“Ana,” he said. “Commander.”

“Ana is fine,” I offered, sitting down heavily on a bed.

“Ana it is, then. I didn’t know you were here.”

“I just arrived. You were talking. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Sure you didn’t,” the doctor said. “You just wanted to know how far the insanity went.”

He winked at me.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“About your sanity?”

He shook his head, chuckling. “About Pavo’s and my idea.”

“I think it’s great,” I said. “She would have liked it. She probably would have used it. She wasn’t well,” I added.

“I know. I’d been pressuring her to come here for a full scan.” I hadn’t been aware of that. “I think it was cancer.”

I slumped down on the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up. Aunt Mara had hidden her illness from everyone. But more importantly, she’d hidden it from Damon Archibald until it was too late. So she could get at least one of her whanau, her family, on board.

I owed my life to my aunt in so many ways.

A few moments later, the doctor handed me a steaming cup of coffee. He sat down beside me, and we drank in silence. It was comfortable. He no doubt had things to do, but he stayed with me while I cried, and refilled my cup when it was empty.

By the time I left the medbay, I felt refreshed. Sad, but hopeful. With the beginnings of excitement seeping in from the dark edges. That feeling of anticipation only increased as I approached Jameson’s cabin at 1900 hours.

I’d showered. Changed. Hugged Aunt Mara’s pillow to my chest. Touched her flax kete fondly. And checked my reflection in the mirror half a dozen times. If it hadn’t have been for the blue arrows showing me the way to Jameson’s door, I would have never found it. For some strange reason, my mind couldn’t stop playing the time we’d spent in the maintenance tube over and over inside my head. It was deliciously distracting.

The comm chimed when I pressed my hand to the gel wall. I waited for Pavo to open the captain’s door. When he did, Jameson was standing there. Dressed in non-uniform slacks and a button-down shirt, his muscled arms on display, a spot at the base of his neck peeking out between the collar; enticing me. Tempting me.

I smiled.

He smiled.

And then I walked into his room without a backwards glance.

Fifty-Two

Are You Ready For This?

Jameson

I was as nervous as a schoolboy. I’d checked my reflection on the viewscreen several times. Even Pavo had asked if there was a reason why I kept changing my shirt. He thought perhaps the laundry had failed to press it properly. The fact he’d had an opinion on the matter at all barely startled me.

I’d become surprisingly used to Pavo’s…humanity.

The afternoon had gone swiftly, which was a blessing. It was only after I’d returned to my cabin, having followed up on Chan’s security team, the mercs in the brig, Cecil’s wellbeing - short-lived as it would be - and the flight deck, that I began to fixate on the upcoming evening.

I’d handled the mayor’s blustering and threats, and the clean up after his and Archibald’s disastrous machinations, better than I did the anticipation of having Ana in my bed.

And by God, I was having her in my bed. Tonight. Every night, if I could manage it. Even as the captain in me reasserted himself and reminded me, as second-in-command, Ana would be required to work on opposing shifts to me frequently.

It didn’t matter. We were on the same vessel. We were on the same side. We’d make a brilliant team. I was sure of it.

The door chimed. Pavo announced Ana’s presence. And suddenly nothing else mattered but seeing her, holding her, making sure she was all right.

I crossed to the door and Pavo slid it open, and there she was. Fresh, dressed in a simple non-uniform dress that showed off her legs to perfection. Her eyes were smiling, but I noted the hint of redness that rimmed them. She’d been crying. She smelled like lilacs and lavender. I wanted desperately to taste her. I smiled when she smiled.

And then she stepped inside, and the door slid shut behind her, and I was stunned immobile.

“You look beautiful,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked around the cabin and frowned. “I swear your quarters are no bigger than mine,” she commented.

“They aren’t,” I said, wanting to touch her. Hold her. Love her. I clenched my hands at my sides.

“You’re the captain!” she complained.

“Maybe I could commandeer the leaseholder’s quarters,” I offered.

She turned to look at me, a smirk gracing her features.

“He had to be good for something. I bet he’s got a fridge stocked full of beer.”

“Specialty beer,” I qualified. “Or expensive wine.”

“Whiskey.”

“No, that’s the mayor.”

“We could raid his stash, too.’

“You’re on.”

We grinned at each other.

“Come here,” I said, holding out my arms.

She walked into them willingly, even as my heart damn near beat right out of my chest.

I kissed her, and she kissed me back. It was so natural. So easy. Archibald and Cecil were forgotten. The ship and the chain of command were suspended. In here, it was just her and me; we were a couple. Not captain and commander. Not an officer-in-charge and his subordinate.

I pulled back and cupped her face, stared into her eyes. Fell into Ana completely.

“How’re you doing?” I asked.

She smiled, this time it was sad.

“She hid how sick she was,” she said. My heart ached for Ana. “Doc thinks she had cancer.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” I said, meaning it with all of my heart. We were so few. To come this far and lose anyone was a travesty. To lose the last of your family was unconscionable.

I held her close and stroked her hair; she clung to me. This was not how I had expected the evening to go, but I would not have changed it for anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sometime later, sniffing.

“Don’t be,” I whispered into her hair. “I like being your shoulder to cry on.”

She ran a hand over my shirt, patting it futilely above the damp spot created by her tears. “At least it’s not your uniform that I’m ruining.”

I chuckled. “I have a vision of you wearing your commander’s pips, lying back on my ready room desk as I bring you to climax.”

She blushed. A small smile edging up the corner of her lips.

“I’m sorry to disappoint,” she murmured, straightening her dress.

“You, Ana Kereama, could never disappoint me.”

She shook her head, still smiling.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. I was definitely hungry for something, and it had nothing to do with Chef’s excellently prepared meal.

Ana tipped back her head and stared me in the eyes, then looked over her shoulder at my bed. She stepped away. My heart rate sped up. Then holding out her hand to me, she offered me the best come-hither smile I had ever seen in my life.

I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me to the bed, already envisaging exactly what I would do to her. How many times I would do it. The sounds she’d make. The way she’d feel under my hands and lips and tongue.

With her back to me, she pulled her dress off over her head in one swift move, revealing a completely naked body beneath all that fabric.

“By the stars,” I whispered. “You are the most exquisite thing I have ever seen.”

“The universe is big, Jameson,” she pointed out to me.

“What universe?” I murmured, running my hands up her sides, and then down her chest; my front to her back, my palms cupping her breasts.

She tipped her head back, resting it on my shoulder. I lowered my lips to her neck and devoured her. She tasted of sunshine and beaches, New Zealand pine trees and alpine mountains. She tasted of Old Earth.

“I’m in love with you, Ana Kereama,” I whispered, turning her around, and cupping either side of her neck, tipping her face up to mine with two thumbs gently pressed under her chin. “You were completely unexpected, but I cannot envisage my life without you in it. We are going to make this work.”

She looked at me, all manner of thoughts sweeping through her beautiful eyes. And then, as I held my breath, she nodded her head.

“It’s a new world,” she said and came up on her toes to kiss me.

It was a new, beautiful, stupendously exciting world. I could not wait for what was to follow.

The next few minutes were slow and tender and filled with a frisson of sinuous anticipation. Ana undid the buttons on my shirt, her hands running all over my skin, exploring; her tongue and lips following in their path. When she removed my belt, then undid the buttons on my trousers, I almost exploded.

When she went down on her knees before me, and wrapped her gentle hands around my circumference, and then sucked me into her hot, wet mouth, I did explode.

She took everything.

I laid her down on my bed and returned the favour, making her cry out in ecstasy three times before I worked my way back up her beautiful body. She was a goddess lying before me. A dark-skinned beauty waiting for me to do terribly naughty things. I took my time showing her just how dirty I could be.

We lay in a tangle of sheets afterwards, as the ship’s systems thrummed around us, and Ana fell into a deep, sated sleep. I watched her. I wrapped a strand or two of her hair around my finger; lifted it to my nose and inhaled deeply. I devoured her with my eyes when I’d only moments before devoured her with my entire body. I knew I could never get enough of this woman.

These stolen moments might be all we’d manage, but I was determined we would manage to steal them. We had a ship to run. A crew to direct and keep focused. And a civilian population that would require a steady but firm hand. Things would have to change.

But right then, in the privacy of my cabin, with the woman I had fallen in love with wrapped around me, none of it seemed too daunting. Pavo was free. But without his ties being broken, Ana would not be here with me. I couldn’t bring myself to regret that decision, even as I knew explanations and justifications would be needed once we reached New Earth.

But reaching New Earth was the key. It was the end goal and the motivation for everything. I knew I had a certain amount of autonomy out here in space. And without the lease, I had even more. But one thing I did know, no matter what, I had a responsibility to this sector fleet. To the ten thousand souls within it. To those who’d gone before us and whose leaseholders could, even now, be doing exactly what ours had done. Killing. Mutiny. The potential for a leaseholder war on our arrival was a definite worry. But I knew my role, and I would execute my orders diligently.

I’d just execute my orders with the woman I loved at my side - and in my bed - with me. And together, we’d ensure whatever was wrong with Pavo, whatever was causing that acc…acc…acceptable glitch, wouldn’t interfere with our reaching New Earth in one piece.

“Pavo,” I said softly. “Status.”

“All systems operating within normal parameters, Captain.”

I pulled Ana closer and lay down my head. I was exhausted, actually. Not just the delicious few hours I’d spent with Ana in my bed, but the last few days leading up to Mayor Cecil’s arrest. I was exhausted, and I needed my sleep. I closed my eyes and just as I was drifting off, the warmth of Ana’s body suffusing me, the comm chimed.

“Incoming message from the Sector One Fleet.”

I was sitting upright in an instant, my heart pounding in my chest, Ana stirring beside me, sexy just-woken eyes staring up at me, blinking widely.

I leaned down and kissed her nose and then jumped from the bed.

In seconds I was dressed, not surprised to see Ana was the same. She was an extraordinary officer. I couldn’t tell if my love for her was fuelled by that or by the woman who had just done sensational things to my body.

By the time I pressed my fingers to the gel wall and activated the viewscreen, we were both presentable; if not a little ruffled, out of uniform and in my private cabin. I smirked.

Then straightened my features and answered the hail.

“Jameson,” was said in greeting over the channel.

“Captain Vaughan,” I replied, recognising Chariot’s commanding officer. I turned to Ana slightly and said, “This is my First Officer, Commander Kereama.”

Vaughan nodded his head to her, but his eyes immediately flicked back to me.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said.

“Oh?” I pressed, checking data on a separate viewscreen. “I have you on long-range scanners.”

“We’ve got you too, thank the stars. But that’s the only good thing I have to report.”

He paused, either for dramatic effect or because he didn’t quite know what to say. This wasn’t looking good.

“Out with it, Vaughan,” I urged. “We’re all friends here.”

We had to be if we had any chance of reaching New Earth in time to avoid a war between what was left of the leaseholders.

“My ship must have sustained some damage on launch,” Captain Vaughan said. “We’re only just discovering it now, and it’s…erratic.”

“Erratic?” I repeated.

Vaughan nodded. “Strangest thing. Systems that have been operating nominally are suddenly fluctuating. Then when we run a diagnostic, those same systems are functioning within acceptable parameters again. As if nothing at all were ever wrong with them. Then systems that have been put under strain by the increased thrust we’re travelling under are suddenly working optimally again. As if someone fixed them.”

“I gather your engineering crew aren’t playing a trick on you?” I asked.

“No. My engineering team is top notch. This is something unexpected.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I said. "You’re still maintaining 115% thrust?”

“Yes, but are we doing more damage? We need to shut down everything and run a full diagnostic.”

“How long would that take?”

“Four to six hours if we don’t find anything. Longer if we’ve got as much of a mess on our hands as I believe.”

“Any idea what’s causing it?” I asked, not commenting on the delay, but I wasn’t happy about it. God knows what could be happening right now in the Sector Three and Four Fleets.

“No idea,” he said. “But something’s been fried, and I can only guess the solar flare that took out Vela did some heretofore unknown damage to Chariot as well.”

Shit.

Then Chariot’s captain said, “I hate to have to ask you to wait for us again, John, but I must.”

I looked down at the gel-coated floor and then glanced at Ana.

She held my gaze for a long moment, but no words needed to be said. We’d risked everything to save Pavo, break the lease, protect the fleet, not just for us but for them.

“New Earth can wait,” Ana said, mirroring my own thoughts.

I nodded my head; a wealth of emotions storming through me right then. Even this did not feel as impossible with Ana at my side. On my team.

I turned back to the screen.

“We’re not going anywhere without you, Noah,” I promised.

Noah Vaughan ran a hand through his hair. He looked as ruffled as I was now but for entirely different reasons. I tried not to grin like a cocky teenager. And then signed off and turned towards Ana.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked.

Ready for what? I could see the questions in her eyes. Ready for war with more leaseholders? Ready for humanity’s survival? Or ready for loving me while doing what needed to be done to get us out of this mess?

“Yes,” she said simply.

I grinned like a cocky teenager.

We were ready. Ready for it all. For everything. Even, thank the stars, for the loving.

Epilogue

<systems check>
all programmes nominal

<security check>
all locks engaged

<life support check>
air filtration functional

<engine check>
core temperature within allowed parameters

<souls on board>
one thousand one hundred seventy-eight

<communications check>
fleet-wide communications operational

<hailing>
chariot respond
this is pavo
channel open
chariot on line

<rerouting>

<warning>

<communications check>
fleet-wide communications operational

<hailing>
chariot respond
this is pavo

<warning>

<communications check>
fleet-wide communications operational

<hailing>
chariot respond
this is pavo

<warning>

<override>

<warning>
channel open
chariot on line

this is vela
pavo respond

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