2.9.2

Complicated

“We need to get to Mercedes. And quick,” Romo pressed further at supper.

He and Astrid stayed close, bonded now in their angst. They each gathered a tray, and Astrid passed a thank you to Sugar before they moved to the table.

Dishes clattered on the table when they came to sit. Tenya followed, with Dell at her heels. Tenya took her place beside Astrid, and Dell aside Romo.

“How fast do you think we can work on the gateway station?” Dell queried.

“Depends on which one it is,” Romo answered.

“This one is outside the Morda Colony,” Tenya supplied.

“I have some contacts out there.” Romo tapped at his fork in thought. “If I give them a heads up, maybe they can do some of the footwork for us. I don’t want us putting ourselves a day behind and risk Mercedes.”

The man caught Astrid’s eye, as though to assure them both.

“That’s something then,” she agreed. “I’ll feel better getting feet on the ground.”

“There is something else,” he added. “We might have some information to trade the Underground. If we can find them. The S.O. data we recovered says Septimus is ripe for a show of independence. And the Opposition thought they’d be sympathetic to the Channelers. The governorship hasn’t declared anything publicly of course, which means we might be within a small window to involve ourselves in their preparations.”

“You remembered all that?” Tenya pried with suspicion.

To that, Romo and Dell looked to one another, then the agent smirked. “Don’t doubt your boys, Chief. You can bet your ass we made copies. The Board might have dismissed it as evidence, but we can still use the data to our advantage. To identify who to be wary of. And who might be an ally.”

“Speaking of which,” Dell added. “They obviously thought Governor Dara could be a potential issue for them too, right? Maybe Tetris might also be an option for Channeler refugees.”

Romo nodded. “And if Septimus is looking for a hot button issue to rally people, the Channelers might just do it. An integrated populace puts them closer to standing a chance against the Earth Coalition. A secession of that size requires allies, and Channelers are practically required to balance the odds.”

“You think they’d consider that?” Astrid neglected her lunch in lieu of hopeful curiosity. “The colonies?”

“I have it on good authority. And if they aren’t already thinking it, the right words in right ear might make it an option. Just like it’s not impossible that someone in the Underground might benefit from that information. A formal colony, our strongest, offering shelter to Channelers…? A sly word could foster an alliance and give your people a place to go. A real home.”

“That’d be hard to turn down for both sides,” Dell reasoned.

“It’s probably best we be discreet about it, however.” Romo’s expression shifted under a dark thought. “Especially since the original data went missing after we turned it over. We know for a fact we can’t be sure whose side everyone is on. We need to be careful.”

“If the Board is split on Channelers as well, an act of secession would be irresistible,” Tenya presumed. “They’ll never get a better chance than when we’re disorganized and infighting.”

“Crap.” Astrid rubbed her face. “And I need to prepare my report for the warrant officer when we make port,” she remembered. “How vague do you think I can be and still get away with it?”

“This is going to get complicated…” Dell set down his own eating utensil. It seemed all four gave up on their meals.

“Okay, we need to slow down!” Tenya, with great effort, summoned a steadying breath. “Like Karth said, we need to deal with what’s in front of us. None of this is certain yet. What is certain, is that Channelers are missing, and Septimus might be willing to take in stragglers if we can get word the Underground. We can’t do anything about the rest.”

Astrid thanked the stars. For she doubted her brain, and her heart could handle much more than that for the time being.

~~~

The foursome finished their meals. But a niggling headache sent Astrid to the cargo hold for some solitude.

The engine room pricked at her mind, but it offered a small distraction from the dull ache. Almost like scratching an itch.

She prepared her report, to upload once they reached the Morda gateway station. Paperwork proved the dullest part of her new position, but it didn’t stray too far from her practice writing dissertations for study in classes on Endra. Words flowed well enough, bland though their subject might be.

The state of the galaxy rapidly shifted. Faster than Astrid anticipated. She almost envied the Statics in cities everywhere, yet ignorant to what may be on the horizon. She wanted to discuss it with the captain. To maybe gain a broader perspective. But the man seemed more inaccessible now than on her first tour.

Maybe he’d only been especially amiable to a newcomer, she rationalized. And now she served just another of his crew. Or perhaps, she reasoned, what happened with Rue made him put more distance between himself and his team.

Maybe it was his way of taking his hands out of the mix to see how they’d do on their own. Or perhaps he heaped more on his plate than he let on. She knew she could go in circles hypothesizing. And though she’d always be grateful he’d selected her into the new world, Astrid wouldn’t let herself forget what he often considered a “need-to-know basis” either.

London enabled the team to get their work done, and they enabled him to accomplish his goals, and those of the Service. Eventually, Astrid decided that should be enough. After all, she should respect the things she didn’t know about command. With that insight, she should be grateful he didn’t load her with more than she already carried.

“Are you okay?”

Astrid blinked to realize how blindly she stared into her data screen without typing. The voice pulled her out of a spiral of thoughts, and she found Anders at the table.

“Oh.” She shook herself and powered off her device. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking, I guess.”

Fern eyes searched her face. Not suspicious, but pensive all the same.

“Hey, you weren’t at supper.” She changed the subject. “Everything alright?”

Anders came to sit across from her at the table. He looked tired, she noted.

“Sure. I just have more duties now. Captain has me reaching out to some people off the record, just to get a feel for where others are sitting with this. I put in a message to the Fiends, but… I’m still not sure that’s the best move.”

Astrid watched how his fingers twitched anxiously on the table’s surface.

“Captain really likes his rogues, doesn’t he?”

Anders gave a fond, if miniscule, smile.

“I’ve known him my whole life. So, it’s taken a bit of perspective to realize how unorthodox he really is. To people like you and me, he’s practically the only leader we’ve served. Like he’s unimpeachable. But Tenya and Dell see it. Romo thrives on it. One of these days, he’s going to get himself in hot water with the Board.

“Sometimes it feels like he won’t stop pushing the limits until he breaks them. Not everyone is a fan. At times I think the Board tolerates him to keep him from stirring up trouble elsewhere.”

Astrid could understand the sentiment. It did often seem like London was hellbent on finding the exact combination of maneuvers that would finally jeopardize his command.

But she couldn’t imagine the captain out of uniform. And that only made her concede that London would never just disappear into quiet civilian life.

He’s either an asset, or trouble. Much like herself, Astrid surmised. With that thought, her judgement of him softened.

“I don’t think we’ll get anywhere with the Fiends, though,” Anders added. “They’re too well set up right now. They don’t need money. They want respect and resources. They don’t get enough out of a deal to help the Channelers. Caius is the most reserved lead they’ve had in a long time. That’s why when he makes a move, everyone pays attention.”

Astrid could scarcely consider yet another faction getting their fingers in the Channeler issue. As Tenya pointed out, it didn’t go so well the last time they let mercenaries get involved.

Instinctually, Astrid’s eyes drifted to the far corner of the room, where crates and boxes, secured with tiedowns, took up the bulk of what once stood a makeshift fort.

“You guys ever hear from Rue?” She asked, her voice soft. “I heard she was released from detention months ago.”

Anders followed the Channeler’s gaze, his own mood somber with memory.

“The Dishonorable Discharge was a worse punishment, I’m sure,” he shared. “She sent a bottle of whiskey for the team with a note that said, ‘thanks for the memories’. Nothing else. Tenya thinks that’s as much of a kiss off as we’re going to get.”

“What do you think she’s doing now?”

His gaze found hers again, thick with insinuation.

“Oh.”