distraction proved to be. I can hardly blame them, but it made me feel a lot worse about talking to Gallagher, and I worried they’d seen right through my half-hearted protest against reporting on my captain to anyone other than fleet command. More than that, I worried they’d noticed how small I’d felt in Gallagher’s presence, whether it was a result of her rank or my own insecurities.
I hurried down the corridor without stopping to acknowledge the repair crew, even when a couple soldiers from Salib’s team tried to flag me down to assist. I wasn’t about to keep the captain—or Gallagher—waiting any longer than I needed to, and time truly was of the essence with life-support running out and given our lack of progress in finding a way home. I hoped Gibbons had regained his wits since the meeting and formulated a better plan of attack, but one step into his quarters assured me that he hadn’t quite regained that level of sanity.
“Shut the door,” he told me.
I did.
Teemo stood at full attention in front of the captain’s wooden desk. His hands were glued firmly to his sides despite the cast on his broken arm. His stare rested somewhere between the ventilation ducts and the top of Gibbons’ head. Like a good little soldier. That wasn’t anything like Teemo. I could tell he was scared.
“Yes, sir?” I asked. I glanced at the door control to make sure it remained unlocked in case things went bad, then took my place beside Teemo.
“I want the two of you to join Salib’s team for a surface mission.”
I swallowed hard. My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Sir?”
Gibbons gave me a sharp look and sat back in his chair, picking thoughtfully at a loosening splinter on his desk. “You heard me. Meet Salib by the airlock and get suited up.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want anyone on the ground again, sir?”
“ I didn’t say that. She did.”
Damn. He knows.
I couldn’t imagine how he’d heard about my talk with Gallagher in the absence of comms, and it didn’t seem likely that he could have overheard us and then beat me to his quarters, but my guilt got the better of me. Whether he suspected I was evaluating him or not, I was jumping at shadows.
The captain stood and pushed his chair in slowly. I tried not to notice Teemo subtly shifting his weight away from me to avoid association now that I’d chosen to challenge the captain’s orders. It’s not the sort of thing your fellow troops typically encourage. Not unless they like the prospect of being court-martialed or tried for mutiny once the mission ends.
The thing is though, by then, I was already more than a little suspicious that the mission never would end, and if it did, that I would never again take a deep space assignment. I’d seen enough of the universe to last a lifetime.
Besides, what the hell kind of commanding officer sends his only pilot out on a ground mission with a broken arm while stranded on a potentially hostile planet? I guess that should have tipped me to his degrading mental state, but I was too close to the situation to see it then. Too much had happened.
Should have kept my mouth shut , I thought.
Gibbons rounded the table. He didn’t look happy.
Fuck.
He stopped so close in front of me that I could smell his horrible stasis breath. The glowing green grime hadn’t quite washed off his skin. I wondered if I looked the same.
He smiled wide. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just question me twice in my own goddamned quarters when I gave you a direct order, Lieutenant. I’m going to chalk it up to the ‘extraordinary stress’ of being stranded on a planet that shouldn’t fucking exist beyond contact range of any of our fucking deep space installments.”
My muscles locked and I stared straight ahead, careful not to meet his gaze or even flinch. Anything might set him off, I realized. Anything might push him over the edge. It was becoming more and more apparent that
I hurried down the corridor without stopping to acknowledge the repair crew, even when a couple soldiers from Salib’s team tried to flag me down to assist. I wasn’t about to keep the captain—or Gallagher—waiting any longer than I needed to, and time truly was of the essence with life-support running out and given our lack of progress in finding a way home. I hoped Gibbons had regained his wits since the meeting and formulated a better plan of attack, but one step into his quarters assured me that he hadn’t quite regained that level of sanity.
“Shut the door,” he told me.
I did.
Teemo stood at full attention in front of the captain’s wooden desk. His hands were glued firmly to his sides despite the cast on his broken arm. His stare rested somewhere between the ventilation ducts and the top of Gibbons’ head. Like a good little soldier. That wasn’t anything like Teemo. I could tell he was scared.
“Yes, sir?” I asked. I glanced at the door control to make sure it remained unlocked in case things went bad, then took my place beside Teemo.
“I want the two of you to join Salib’s team for a surface mission.”
I swallowed hard. My stomach dropped. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Sir?”
Gibbons gave me a sharp look and sat back in his chair, picking thoughtfully at a loosening splinter on his desk. “You heard me. Meet Salib by the airlock and get suited up.”
“I thought you said you didn’t want anyone on the ground again, sir?”
“ I didn’t say that. She did.”
Damn. He knows.
I couldn’t imagine how he’d heard about my talk with Gallagher in the absence of comms, and it didn’t seem likely that he could have overheard us and then beat me to his quarters, but my guilt got the better of me. Whether he suspected I was evaluating him or not, I was jumping at shadows.
The captain stood and pushed his chair in slowly. I tried not to notice Teemo subtly shifting his weight away from me to avoid association now that I’d chosen to challenge the captain’s orders. It’s not the sort of thing your fellow troops typically encourage. Not unless they like the prospect of being court-martialed or tried for mutiny once the mission ends.
The thing is though, by then, I was already more than a little suspicious that the mission never would end, and if it did, that I would never again take a deep space assignment. I’d seen enough of the universe to last a lifetime.
Besides, what the hell kind of commanding officer sends his only pilot out on a ground mission with a broken arm while stranded on a potentially hostile planet? I guess that should have tipped me to his degrading mental state, but I was too close to the situation to see it then. Too much had happened.
Should have kept my mouth shut , I thought.
Gibbons rounded the table. He didn’t look happy.
Fuck.
He stopped so close in front of me that I could smell his horrible stasis breath. The glowing green grime hadn’t quite washed off his skin. I wondered if I looked the same.
He smiled wide. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just question me twice in my own goddamned quarters when I gave you a direct order, Lieutenant. I’m going to chalk it up to the ‘extraordinary stress’ of being stranded on a planet that shouldn’t fucking exist beyond contact range of any of our fucking deep space installments.”
My muscles locked and I stared straight ahead, careful not to meet his gaze or even flinch. Anything might set him off, I realized. Anything might push him over the edge. It was becoming more and more apparent that
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