2.19.2

Astrid Accountable

“One of these days we’ll finish an op without someone winding up in Med Lab.”

Tenya’s voice filtered in behind a fog.

“At least it’s Astrid this time,” Romo said. “She’s used to it.”

A snort of derision came, maybe from her, Astrid couldn’t be sure. Her throat hurt.

“Nice, Romo. Asshole.”

“Relax, LC. You know she’d rather it be her.”

“You’re all a bunch of assholes…” Astrid mumbled through weak lips. Her joke fell flat on the back of reactions to her movement.

She managed to lift her eyes, to the scene of four faces. Her head seared like an ahi tuna when light flooded her retinas.

She covered them under a folded arm and groaned.

“Mmph. Shit.”

“When did you turn into such a sailor, Bug?” Romo ribbed at her mercilessly. But Astrid welcomed their presence, even if she couldn’t express it right away.

“What happened?” She inquired while she warded off the pain. “Did we get them?”

“Yeah, we got ‘em.” The Channeler felt Anders approach around the table, to her opposite side of the others. “We escorted the Alfirk the rest of the way. They’re safe. We’re back on track now.”

She lifted her improvised cover and forced herself through the sting of watering eyes, to take in her surroundings.

Anders, Romo, and Tenya, circled up. Beyond them, stood a silent Eames while he observed their interaction.

Astrid sat up. Her whole body ached, but not nearly as much as her brain. Her eyes fell on the next table, where one of her shirts lay, sullied by a small bloom of blood. She lay, instead, dressed in a plain white EMS t-shirt.

The team followed her eyes.

“A little nosebleed,” Tenya explained. “You should be fine.”

It seemed the doctor overheard their discussion, because the far door opened to admit Ishioka, who immediately went to work checking on her patient.

Again, all the regular protocol. And again, the eye check gave Astrid a jolt of discomfort she couldn’t mask.

“Mm-hm.” Doctor Ishioka’s mouth firmed up, and she jotted a note with a quick flash of her fingers over the nearby keyboard. “Well, Specialist Hale. When I suggested you continue to condition yourself, I did not think you’d take it as a challenge.”

“Right.” Astrid held no will, nor bearing for an argument.

“I’m going to suggest you take the powers offline for awhile.”

“What?” Tenya probed, worried now.

“It doesn’t really work that way,” Astrid rebuffed.

Ishioka clarified, “Figuratively, of course. Just for a couple days. Barring any life-or-death scenarios or whatever else you keep getting yourself into.”

“Is something wrong, Doctor?” Anders asked next. “I thought you said she’d be okay.”

Ishioka closed the file and pushed away the monitor station with a gesture of conclusion. “She will. But I would no more suggest she try such a thing again unless we want to turn a sprained ankle into a torn ACL and put her out of commission for the foreseeable future. It’s a precaution.

“A necessary one,” she emphasized before Astrid could argue further.

“It should be quiet the next few days.” Tenya sat on the exam table, near Astrid’s feet. “It’s as good as any time for a break. We’ll need you up and running again later. Take it while you can get it.”

Astrid let her headache determine for her that it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

“What’s next on the agenda?” she asked instead.

“The Alfirk was a little damaged in the attack, and slow to Mercedes, but we escorted them the rest of the way,” Romo reported. “We’re about to head back out to the outpost station. Our rendezvous will wait for us. We have the Owens sister to consider still.”

“Do you think taking out that S.O. ship will change their plans? Do we think they have more?” Astrid inquired of the agent next. “Or will they go into the next stage, whatever it is?”

Romo shrugged. “We have no way of knowing. Again, the girl is our best chance. Maybe we’ll get something out of her at the station before we pass her off. I still wouldn’t want to try until we have her in a more stable sitting.”

“And that will make her more inclined to share?”

“Maybe. With her current mental state, environment means everything. This is an enemy ship, as far she’s concerned. In neutral territory, she can get a clearer perspective on the reality. That could go a long way in showing her she has limited options.”

Astrid nodded. It made sense. Still, their tactics moving forward would have to change either way. Chasing the children didn’t deliver them to where they were being held.

“There is another thing you should know,” Anders began. Though his measured tone wilted with reluctance. “You got a message while you were out.”

He wavered. Only Astrid caught the subtle shift of his eyes to Eames, then back to her.

“From your friend on the gateway station. It seems their position has been exposed, and they requested help.”

Astrid’s stomach lurched. “How soon can we-?”

“Astrid, I’m sorry. We’re just not close enough to make a difference. They’re probably fine, it sounds like they saw trouble coming. But I thought you should know. You’re going to see that message.”

“I doubt they had all their routes pinned on us,” Romo softened the blow. “A group like that surely has contingency plans.”

Astrid wanted to ask questions. On the other hand, she doubted any answers would make her feel better. The Underground Railroad made it clear they wanted to operate on their own. And on their own is where she’d left them.

Still, if somehow their meeting exposed them, she could add a handful more names to the people condemned by her involvement.

Eames eyed the group curiously, but they all clammed up shortly after.

“I’m going to update the captain,” Romo announced after a moment. “Tenya, want to help me?”

“Hmm?” The chief blinked, confused. Then exchanged a glance with Romo that Astrid couldn’t see. Tenya suddenly agreed. “Oh! Yes. I think I will.”

Anders stayed close. Behind him, the doctor, too, discreetly excused herself. But Eames, in the corner, remained unmovable, no matter how many subtle hints the crew tried to convey with their eyes.

The three that remained shared awkward silence. Until finally Anders plowed on, company be damned.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”

“No, you should have,” she told him. “It worked, didn’t it? I never would have tried otherwise. You were just doing your job.”

“It was pretty incredible. But dangerous. I didn’t realize how much it put on you. Or how tricky it must have been. That you could have drained us, or the kids. If you channeled that much energy from a human instead…”

Astrid caught his meaning. “Yes. I… I don’t know who all I could have killed.”

“You don’t drain from humans,” Anders commented. “I noticed. Even on Thedes and Tetris. You always use your packs or something else.”

“You don’t?” Eames intruded into their intimate conversation.

Anders restored some space between he and Astrid, as though suddenly aware of how close he leaned.

“No,” Astrid addressed the Guardian. “I don’t. It would probably be more economical… drain one to attack another but… it just never felt right. For me.”

“What you did, it bought us the window we needed,” Anders insisted.

“I still can’t believe it worked.” Astrid stretched her back. “I was certain it wouldn’t. Are you sure I did it? And not something else?”

“Take the credit, Astrid. We’re pretty sure.”

“And neither of you see any issue with that?” Once again, Eames interrupted.

The young officer straightened further with a glare and the Channeler moved to fold her hands in her lap.

Aside from installing a subconscious return to propriety, the Guardian’s company also presented a perspective Astrid neglected in recent months.

And through the man’s brown eyes, she saw what he saw in her.

“What the Guardian is getting at,” she relayed to an increasingly irritated Anders, “is that I’m about to tip the scale into being a detriment to our cause. Aren’t you, Eames?”

With effort, she met his insinuation as calmly and politely as she could.

But he nodded. “Using a Channeler for things like tracking and infiltration is an arguable benefit, I’ll give you that. And it will do well for your integration initiative.

“But engine manipulation? And at such a distance? What do you think will happen if the conversation becomes about people who can take down ships with a thought? Or puppet them?”

“Eames, this was a flicker. A very meager, temporary flicker, and it wiped me out.” The Channeler knit her brow. “Nothing like how you describe.”

“But you mean to develop further, don’t you?”

Astrid scowled.

“This is not a personal attack,” Eames debated. “So far, you have shown yourself quite accountable to your allies. But there is a responsibility to be had in what you do.

“How far do you think to go before you prove exactly why your kind cannot go uncontrolled?”