And here we are, at war with them. Tukui fought off a sigh of remorse.
His new navigation station, situated next to the helm, was an additional example of wasted use of space. The console was as wide as his arms could reach and boasted small drawers and slots filled with writing implements, papers with scrawled notes he couldn’t read, and other assorted objects he had no way of identifying. There was also a circular depression, similar to those in the arms of his quarters’ chairs and lounger. Cupholders, according to Tina.
Tukui tried to imagine the look Captain Tranis would give him if he sat down to work with a cup of kloq. The visual almost made him laugh out loud.
“Duty roster,” Simdow said.
His station was next to Tukui’s, but helm controls were as spread out as navigation’s. The first officer had to get up out of his smallish chair and step close. Sitting while on duty. It was another weird thing Earthers did.
Tukui was happy to stand and stretch a bit, though he winced as he did so. The low consoles forced him to use the uncomfortable seating. Simdow offered a sympathetic smile. “Any excuse to get up, right?”
“I don’t know about your back, but mine’s miserable by mid-shift.” He lowered his voice so the captain couldn’t hear. “By the way, Commander, thank you for speaking so highly of my performance during the battle with the Tragooms.” A day after receiving his first commendation, Tukui was riding high on Tranis’ praise.
“You deserved that award, Navigator. You kept our ship in one piece until we got the stabilizers on line. Nice job on the venting guidance protocol as well. I hear the captain is submitting it to Fleet Command with the suggestion they include it in emergency training.”
Tukui flushed. “Forget about me. You were outstanding as acting captain during the emergency. If your response to the situation doesn’t fast track you to actual captaincy, I can’t imagine what would.”
Simdow shrugged. He didn’t act thrilled to have been lavished with the accolades he’d earned. “The captain was generous.” Noting Tukui’s surprise, he added, “I’m grateful to have been recognized. Captain Tranis doesn’t give awards lightly. I’m just focused on some issues where my Matara’s concerned.”
“I think we’ve all been through the wringer when it comes to our beautiful lifemates.” Thank the ancestors Tina was making strides in a positive direction.
Simdow turned so his back was to the captain and weapons commander, bringing the handheld up as if they were discussing the task at hand. “I hate that I’m taking her from those she cares for so deeply. Has the same thing come up for you?”
“My Matara doesn’t have close ties to anyone from Europa. They were on the brink of sending her to Earth.”
“To family?”
“I suppose, but she’s not close to them either. It’s sad that she has so little to leave behind. Abandonment issues—” Tukui broke off, remembering himself. “Sorry, Commander. We all have plenty to deal with. Including duty rosters.”
Simdow chuckled. “So we do.”
They went over shift assignments. Tukui appreciated this new task that allowed him to exercise a subcommand-level role despite his lower rank. That Captain Tranis would make him Simdow’s aide in such a task was a good sign. Despite the young Dramok’s shortcomings, Tranis must believe he could rise to bigger and better things.
When they completed the job, Tukui returned to his station, hardly minding the chair in his upbeat mood. Even with a war going on, life wasn’t shabby. Thanks to their crew capturing important codes, lately deciphered, they had the means for successful invasion of Earth. The war would end as soon as the fleet fought its way to the hidden wormhole that would send them unopposed straight to the enemy planet.
After that? Tukui and Osopa could count on successful careers in the fleet. After the Europa adventure, they could probably snag coveted positions on a destroyer. Yorso’s work on behalf of the fleet might land him a post with his choice of ambassador. Or an exclusive position in academia, should he follow in his parents’ footsteps. Tina’s emotional health was improving at a rapid rate. Now that she knew her clan wasn’t going anywhere, that she could count on them to remain close—
But they weren’t.
Tukui froze in his seat, his readouts blurring out of view as realization struck him like a thunderbolt.
Oh shit. We fucked up. Sweet Mother of All, I fucked up, and not just a little.
His surroundings rocked, and he gripped the edge of his panel to steady himself. How could he have been so stupid?
Tina couldn’t remain with him and Osopa on a spyship. Even during peace time, the danger posed by clandestine missions to enemy territories barred civilians from living on board such a vessel. The situation was the same if they were to score those desired posts on a destroyer, a craft built specifically for battle.
Why had he failed to recognized it before?
His thoughts edging on panic, Tukui glanced at Simdow. Like Osopa, the first officer was a dedicated fleet officer on the rise. How was he handling the upcoming separation from his new Matara?
Simdow wasn’t much older, but between the two of them, Tukui could easily admit the other Dramok was more responsible. No doubt Simdow had given great consideration to how he would handle his career while keeping his Matara foremost in his plans.
She must not have the abandonment fears Tina does. Still, Simdow must have weighed his choices carefully.
Tukui wished he could ask the first officer about his decision, but Captain Tranis and Weapons Commander Lidon were on the bridge. He didn’t dare bring up personal issues while on duty. Especially when the captain had made a point that they consider all ramifications before clanning an Earther.
I failed to do that. I was typical Tukui, rushing into things without a second thought. Tina could suffer from his impetuousness.
No. She’d suffered enough. If Tukui was to be the Dramok she needed, he’d have to leave the fleet. Or at least downgrade his goals and settle for duty on a noncombat vessel so he could keep her close. As boring as that would be after the excitement of the last couple of years, he could manage the sacrifice. Tina was worth it.
Yorso could join them, but that would mean no chance at remaining a cultural attaché. Or anything else in line with his chosen profession. He’d be giving up a lot. Yorso would probably agree that giving Tina the security she needed was the top priority, but it would be a major sacrifice on his part.
And Osopa—
Tukui glanced at his Nobek. Osopa wore his inscrutable duty face, but Tukui knew him well enough to divine his clanmate was pleased to be doing his job. He’d voiced no complaints about the challenging conditions that came with working on an alien vessel. The fleet was his career, and he held a position he was proud to have attained.
Osopa had labored the hardest to get where he was. There was no doubt that Tukui’s Nobek deserved to achieve his goal of becoming a destroyer’s weapons commander, and eventually, a captain. Hell, he’d probably end up an admiral when it was all said and done. Then he could opt to be stationed on Kalquor, and they’d all be able to live together. But such dreams were years, maybe even decades, into the future.
How could Tukui ask Osopa to surrender all he’d toiled for since he was a kid in training camp? How could he not, when Tina needed the reassurance of her entire clan by her side?