Kit Smart's Blog, page 2
August 17, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / Command Decision Part 4
A note from Kit: If you’d like to read this uh—short story? TBD? in order, please use the links below.
*****
Junnet looked at her sharply, his eyes angry and hostile.
Kate held his gaze calmly. Raised an eyebrow; dared him.
“I’m in rut.” He bit off savagely. The words were coming like machine gun fire now and his eyes continued to bore into hers. “I’m hot, dehydrated and aroused to the point that the pressure of my uniform on my skin is driving me mad.” A minute hesitation, “I want sex. I want sex so badly I’d do anything for it. Anything.” He bit off savagely. “I’d crawl if you’d—” He halted abruptly, bit what he was going to say back and swallowed hard as his face flushed with anger. “Is that what you want to know?” He moved towards her slightly and she got the impression that if he didn’t have such a death grip on his body that he’d reach out and shake her. “Is that what you want to know?” He ground out. “Does it make you happy to know that the rut is only beginning and I am already so aroused; so consumed by the desire for something that I can’t have that I can’t think; can hardly see straight? That all I can think of at the moment is taking off your clothes, pressing you against the wall and getting inside you?”
Kate blinked in astonishment; the contrast between the XO she knew—her buttoned down, no-nonsense, no-excuses, no-emotions, all-business-all-professionalism-all-the-time XO—and the angry, uncomfortable Sexual man in front of her was unexpectedly jarring. I’ve never thought about you as a person outside of your role… He apparently took the blink for confirmation that she was backing down because the next thing she knew he was resettling against the wall and closing his eyes once more. “I didn’t think so.” He said.
August 16, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / Command Decision Part 3
A Note from Kit: Again, we are doing the story morphing thing today. If you’d like to read parts 1 & 2, please click on the links below.
******
Kate studied the calm lines of her XO’s face as she walked over to where he sat. If you didn’t know the man was in full-blown rut you’d have thought he was sleeping she mused, as blankets and water clutched against her chest, she turned round and bracing her back against the wall, let it support her weight as she slid to the ground beside him. She was careful, though she came to rest within easy touching distance, not to touch him. Like her people, Recs were touch sensitive and although he was only half Rec and she didn’t know if he was sensitive in that way, she didn’t want to risk potentially overloading him in his current state.
“Are you here to monitor me Vadaesz?” Junnet asked her after a moment. His eyes remained closed and she got the impression that the closed eyes, and crossed arms were his way of holding himself together by holding the outside world at bay.
She also noted that he had recognized her sight unseen and tucked that interesting piece of information away for later contemplation. Along with the fact that he’d used her Elven rank of Hunter rather than his more usual Captain. Had she come to monitor him? To monitor him as one would a threat to security? “No.” She decided aloud. “I come bearing provisions.” She shrugged. “And whatever other help I may.” She told him matter-of-factly.
He opened his eyes at that. They were, she noted, beneath the heavy ridge of his forehead, a beautiful liquid brown tinged with hostility. “Help.” His tone while cool contained a faint edge of hostility if you were listening and Kate was. “How can you help?” Now there was disbelief. Hostility and disbelief. You are on a roll girl.
“That’s for you to decide.” She kept her voice calm and unperturbed she offered him one of the blankets she’d brought with her.
He stared at her so she raised an eyebrow at him in return. “Yes?”
He said nothing, took the blanket without unwrapping his arms. “Thanks.” He said a little grimly. And without unclenching his body he spread the blanket over his knees, drew it up to his chin and under the cover provided by the blanket tightened his arms around his torso.
She offered a bottle of water next.
He shook his head. “No thank you.”
Giving him a curious glance, she set the water aside and spread the other blanket over her own knees before once again picking up the bottle of water and opening it. Considering the situation, she took a long sip. “We haven’t been working together very long so you are probably not aware that I am a touch healer of sorts.” She began careful to keep her face casual and friendly for the benefit of their audience; just two regular people having a chat. “There are things I can do to take your pain~help you get more comfortable.”
Junnet turned to look at her then. Like her his face was a study in neutrality but his eyes and tone were disbelieving. “I’m not in pain. I am in rut.” Harsh intensity indicating that he doubted very much that she could prove useful in such a situation. “Can you take that?” Kate noted this and unsure what to say she remained silent. The disbelief faded first into contempt, and then hopelessness she thought and this was confirmed when when closing his eyes he tilted his head back against the wall once more. “No? I didn’t think so.”
“You disregard me so very easily Commander.” Kate said after a moment. “I am not your enemy.”
“Aren’t you?” More contempt, but tired this time, as though the conversation wore at him.
“No.” She said firmly though she wasn’t actually certain what to think. No one had ever questioned her skills before.
“You are not my friend.” He said quietly but with absolute conviction.
“We’ve only just met” She replied neutrally. “We hardly know each other-“ she began.
“Know?!” He interrupted biting the word off savagely. “You don’t want to know me.”
“How can you be so certain?” She asked. She wondered what was behind that savage tone.
He laughed; a sharp unhappy sound.
“Try me commander.” She suggested. Internally she reminded herself as she felt her temper begin to fray a little that she would be pretty cranky too if there situations were reversed and massive quantities of hormones were being pumped through her body.
“Try you?” He barked disbelievingly. “And get court martialed? No thanks.”
“Off the record.” She suggested quietly.
August 15, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / Command Decision Part 2
A Note from Kit: Some days short stories turn into novels and flash fiction turns into ‘(etc)’. This is one of these days. If you haven’t read SFR Flash Fiction /Command Decision and you want to, please click here.
******
Kate raised an eyebrow at that but sighed accepting the hit and crossed her hands over her chest. “So, we’ve come to the portion of our program where you explain the details of my mission to me and then send me on my way.” She intoned. “What can I do?” She asked Thea not really expecting a response and simultaneously wondering how much she cared. She hadn’t known Junnet very long—no more than a couple of weeks really— but she liked him. He was a competent, dependable Executive Officer; the kind that kept to himself both on and off the bridge. She wondered to what extent him being her Exec made him her responsibility off the bridge.
Thea shrugged eloquently. “Give him someone to lean on when he can’t hold it together any longer? There’s nothing more for you to do here at the moment and this is hitting him like a freight train.” Thea glanced over her at the subject of their conversation. “He could probably use a little empathy, or, failing that, a little protection from the hostile, prying eyes of the locals.” She indicated with a nod the various clusters of civilians who were eyeing the commander with varying levels of hostility and fear.
“Have you ever been given reason to think he would welcome any such intrusions into his private affairs?” Kate asked her friend incredulously. “And from me?! The man has barely spoken two non-work-related words to me since we met?”
Thea shrugged. “Can’t hurt.” She said blithely. “No time like the present to start making changes.”
Kate rolled her eyes at the platitudes. “Are you negotiating an alliance?”
“Just calling it like I see it.” Thea replied calmly. “Besides, you’re senior here, so he’s yours to protect.”
Recognizing defeat, Kate sighed and held up her hands. “Message received.” Glancing over Thea’s shoulder she studied the way the commander had his arms wrapped around his abdomen. Not good. “Is there anything we can give him?” She asked even though she was already half anticipating the answer.
“Aside from sex?” It was only half a joke.”Nothing we have on us is compatible with his physiology.” Thea confirmed Kate’s suspicions.
Kate sighed again. “When we get back—”
“The med kits need updating.” Thea tapped her temple with one neatly manicured fingertip. “Got it noted right here boss.”
Kate rocked back on her heels, resisted the urge to sigh and then gave herself a mental smack; no more sighing. Sighing was not something those of her rank engaged it. She nodded instead. “Good. What have we got?”
“We have water and blankets.” Twisting around Thea grabbed the afore mentioned items and turning back offered them to Kate. “We also have forty-two trapped local civilians on the verge of a freak out and only six crew members.”
“One of whom is down for the count.” Kate inserted dryly.
Because they were being watched, Thea frowned only with her eyes. “Don’t underestimate him Kate. He’s strong. He can control this.”
Kate raised a skeptical brow. “If he’s so strong, what does he need me for?”
“For the same reason people with headaches take painkillers.” This time it was Thea who was all dryness.
Kate blinked, opened her mouth to respond, but halted when Thea raised her hand. “I don’t think I have to tell you that there is a mood in the room Kate, one we don’t want to contribute further to with the The Crimson Tide still hours away. These people have every reason to hate Recs.” Thea’s expression was grim. “Trust me as an empath, when I tell you that we need him up on his feet looking more like the alliance officer he is and less like the full-blooded Recs who run wild on the surface of this planet terrorizing the local population.”
Aware of being watched, Kate carefully refrained from looking at the subject of their discussion. “Surely they don’t know—“
“No. Not yet. But they know enough to suspect.” Thea huffed at a stray bit of hair that fell into her eyes. “These people know about Recs Kate and they’re watching him; waiting. He’s only half Recessive and he has phenomenal control over most of the symptoms of the Rut but there is going to come a point when he is going to be exposed because he will no longer be able to hide everything. That can’t happen here; both for his sake and ours.” Thea’s voice was intense now and Kate nodded her understanding.
August 11, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / ‘For Fuck’s Sake Captain!’
******
She was going to kill him. Cam thought as she stared at the Admiral as he stood in his characteristic annoy the Captain by shooting down all her suggestions posture; hands reversed and braced against the small of his back, back to her as he gazed out the viewport beside his desk. Not only had he rejected her snack after an obligatory couple of sips of coffee and a single bite of a singularly boring biscuit; he’d been physically avoiding her ever since by keeping the room between them, and then eventually giving her his back. He had refused to reply to her suggestions with anything outside of a clipped yes, no, or grunt of acknowledgment, and had in fact not said anything for the last several minutes. You are one moody son of bitch Admiral. She thought with an annoyed glance at the chronometer. If you’re not interested in anything I have to say then what is the point of this? “Sir,” She began with admirable calm considering her level of irritation with him.
“Go back to your office Captain.” He interrupted.
Cam jerked back in startled shock. “Sir?!”
“Go. To. Your. Office.” He bit out.
She rose uncertainly. Surely I can’t have said or done anything to deserve this? “Sir–” She tried again, took a deep breath. “I realize that we haven’t always had the uh… smoothest of working relationships,” She began a bit stiffly, because she was stunned despite having worked with him long enough to have taken the brunt of his moods often enough not to take his irritation personally. “and if you wish to replace me I–”
“For fuck’s sake Captain–” He began only to break off and swallow hard. She watched puzzled as he rocked back on his heels and dropped his head forward; his hands standing out in stark relief against the black of his uniform as he pressed them hard against his back. What the hell Admiral?! She thought as she watched him inhale and exhale once, twice, three times, and then he was heading towards the lavatory and slamming the door behind him.
For one startled moment she thought that he had had to leave because he couldn’t stand even to look at her, before the sounds of him being violently and noisily sick dispelled the notion for the absurdity it was. She was an extremely competent officer for goddsake, and whatever flaws she might have–and she didn’t kid herself that she didn’t have any–they were certainly not serious enough to cause the Admiral to upchuck his coffee and biscuit. He’s ill. She realized, and all that stiffness, withdrawn body language, and attempting to send her out had been him trying to hide it.
Okay, so what now then? She asked herself torn between the instinct to call sickbay for help and the notion that since he’d gone to some effort to keep his illness–whatever it was–private she’d best respect that. On the one hand, I risk killing him by not getting him help; on the other I risk offending his dignity by allowing his crew to see him in such a state. Quite the choice. Knowing that she certainly wouldn’t want the crew to see her spewing her guts along the corridor on the way to medical, she decided to give him a couple of minutes and then reassess the situation. If it were serious, sickbay would have to be called, but if it were something simple…. Like what? She asked herself sarcastically. Nerves? An allergy? Food poisoning? Like you’re qualified to judge. You need to call sickbay and you know it!
Pushing the thought aside with a sigh. Rules were meant to be broken right? She padded over to the door and putting her ear against it listened. Silence. She hesitated. “Er… Admiral?”
A deep sigh and then the sounds of him getting to his feet. “It’s fine Captain. Go back to your office.”
Cam lifted her ear from the door, stepped back a bit. “I can’t do that sir.” She hesitated. “At least not until I verify that you are all right.”
She heard the sound of water being run and then turned off. A moment later the lavatory door swung open and he stood in front of her; a touch paler and more drawn but on his feet and breathing. “I’m fine Captain.” He repeated.
Cam studied him warily torn between wanting to believe him and not wanting to have to deal with him dying on her watch as it were. “With all due respect sir, I think a visit to sickbay–”
He cut her off. “I’ve already seen the doctor once today Captain.” He told her levelly. “There is no need to be concerned.” His gaze dared her to disagree.
Cam snorted. “No need to be concerned!?” She repeated incredulously. “You’re suddenly puking your guts out for no apparent reason and there’s no need to be concerned?!”
Frowning he scrubbed a hand across his face. “If you don’t mind Captain–” He nodded at the sofa and chairs and Cam realised that his hand was shaking a little. Normal post turning your guts out shakiness or something more sinister? She wondered as she obediently preceded him to the sofa. To her surprise, he joined her on the sofa rather than sitting across from her as was his usual want. Catching it, he slanted her a glance, “I like to stretch out too Captain.” He told her softly and depositing himself in the corner of the sofa extended his legs in front of him in a way that the more rigid confines of the chairs did not allow. When he propped his elbow on the sofa-back and then rested his head against the palm, she understood how tired he was; it just wasn’t like him to… make himself comfortable at the expense of admirally dignity. Not, she thought slowly as she took him in, that there was anything even remotely undignified about his posture. He just seemed more human somehow–less the indomitable admiral and more… she hesitated feeling it out…
He leveled his gaze at her in his typical direct manner but there was a reserve in it that made her wonder. “I have a spinal port.” He said matter-of-factly. “Through which I receive injections in order to manage certain physiological matters.” Here he paused briefly seemingly expecting a reaction so Cam nodded to confirm her understanding. Holy crap. She thought to herself but managed not to allow that to escape. “Okay.” She said instead.
“Some of the medications irritate my physiology, make it difficult to consume food and drink.”
“That’s why you were sick?”
“That’s why I was sick.” He confirmed.
She thought about that. Frowned. “So–how do you eat?”
“I only take injections in the evening, so it doesn’t really affect the rest of the day.”
“Just dinner?” She asked.
“Yes.”
She scowled. “But you don’t eat breakfast or lunch either, that’s why–“
“Everybody thinks I’m an android.” He smiled slightly. “I prefer to eat in my office or quarters,” He explained, “While the medication doesn’t interfere with my actual ability to eat during the day, it does affect my appetite, and I need to focus so that I get appropriate nutrition.”
“Being in the mess is that distracting?”
“It is if you’re looking for a reason not to eat something.” He told her wryly.
“I imagine the food doesn’t help either.” She added thinking of the previous night’s casserole with less than fond thoughts.
That earned her a small smile. “It has its moments.”
Cam leaned back, propped her arm on the back of the sofa, rested her cheek against her hand mirroring him. “So why’d you drink the coffee–eat that biscuit?”
A shrug. “I didn’t want to offend you… and I suppose I overestimated my ability to–” A grimace. “–eat.”
Cam nodded thoughtfully. She had been pissed at him, she couldn’t argue that. She was often angry with him for some reason or other. Reasons usually similar to tonight’s debacle. Tonight though there had been a reason for his apparently offensive behaviour. He hadn’t been feeling well and along she’d come and practically forced coffee and a biscuit on him and made it worse. She’d then compounded the problem by refusing to leave when he’d demanded she do so in an attempt to gain a little privacy so he could be ill. She’d totally misjudged the subtext of the encounter / evening and it made her wonder what else–how else, she’d misjudged him. “You have your reasons for not simply telling me I suppose?”
He stared at her for a moment, glanced down. “I–suppose… its just private.” Another little half shrug. “Not precisely an item for morning meetings.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile.
“Does it bother you to talk about it?” Cam asked curiously because he didn’t seem particularly agitated by the conversation.
“Not if it doesn’t bother you.” There was a challenge in there somewhere Cam thought. It was her turn to shrug. “It doesn’t bother me.”
I
SFR / ‘For Fuck’s Sake Captain!’
******
She was going to kill him. Cam thought as she stared at the Admiral as he stood in his characteristic annoy the Captain by shooting down all her suggestions posture; hands reversed and braced against the small of his back, back to her as he gazed out the viewport beside his desk. Not only had he rejected her snack after an obligatory couple of sips of coffee and a single bite of a singularly boring biscuit; he’d been physically avoiding her ever since by keeping the room between them, and then eventually giving her his back. He had refused to reply to her suggestions with anything outside of a clipped yes, no, or grunt of acknowledgment, and had in fact not said anything for the last several minutes. You are one moody son of bitch Admiral. She thought with an annoyed glance at the chronometer. If you’re not interested in anything I have to say then what is the point of this? “Sir,” She began with admirable calm considering her level of irritation with him.
“Go back to your office Captain.” He interrupted.
Cam jerked back in startled shock. “Sir?!”
“Go. To. Your. Office.” He bit out.
She rose uncertainly. Surely I can’t have said or done anything to deserve this? “Sir–” She tried again, took a deep breath. “I realize that we haven’t always had the uh… smoothest of working relationships,” She began a bit stiffly, because she was stunned despite having worked with him long enough to have taken the brunt of his moods often enough not to take his irritation personally. “and if you wish to replace me I–”
“For fuck’s sake Captain–” He began only to break off and swallow hard. She watched puzzled as he rocked back on his heels and dropped his head forward; his hands standing out in stark relief against the black of his uniform as he pressed them hard against his back. What the hell Admiral?! She thought as she watched him inhale and exhale once, twice, three times, and then he was heading towards the lavatory and slamming the door behind him.
For one startled moment she thought that he had had to leave because he couldn’t stand even to look at her, before the sounds of him being violently and noisily sick dispelled the notion for the absurdity it was. She was an extremely competent officer for goddsake, and whatever flaws she might have–and she didn’t kid herself that she didn’t have any–they were certainly not serious enough to cause the Admiral to upchuck his coffee and biscuit. He’s ill. She realized, and all that stiffness, withdrawn body language, and attempting to send her out had been him trying to hide it.
Okay, so what now then? She asked herself torn between the instinct to call sickbay for help and the notion that since he’d gone to some effort to keep his illness–whatever it was–private she’d best respect that. On the one hand, I risk killing him by not getting him help; on the other I risk offending his dignity by allowing his crew to see him in such a state. Quite the choice. Knowing that she certainly wouldn’t want the crew to see her spewing her guts along the corridor on the way to medical, she decided to give him a couple of minutes and then reassess the situation. If it were serious, sickbay would have to be called, but if it were something simple…. Like what? She asked herself sarcastically. Nerves? An allergy? Food poisoning? Like you’re qualified to judge. You need to call sickbay and you know it!
Pushing the thought aside with a sigh. Rules were meant to be broken right? She padded over to the door and putting her ear against it listened. Silence. She hesitated. “Er… Admiral?”
A deep sigh and then the sounds of him getting to his feet. “It’s fine Captain. Go back to your office.”
Cam lifted her ear from the door, stepped back a bit. “I can’t do that sir.” She hesitated. “At least not until I verify that you are all right.”
She heard the sound of water being run and then turned off. A moment later the lavatory door swung open and he stood in front of her; a touch paler and more drawn but on his feet and breathing. “I’m fine Captain.” He repeated.
Cam studied him warily torn between wanting to believe him and not wanting to have to deal with him dying on her watch as it were. “With all due respect sir, I think a visit to sickbay–”
He cut her off. “I’ve already seen the doctor once today Captain.” He told her levelly. “There is no need to be concerned.” His gaze dared her to disagree.
Cam snorted. “No need to be concerned!?” She repeated incredulously. “You’re suddenly puking your guts out for no apparent reason and there’s no need to be concerned?!”
Frowning he scrubbed a hand across his face. “If you don’t mind Captain–” He nodded at the sofa and chairs and Cam realised that his hand was shaking a little. Normal post turning your guts out shakiness or something more sinister? She wondered as she obediently preceded him to the sofa. To her surprise, he joined her on the sofa rather than sitting across from her as was his usual want. Catching it, he slanted her a glance, “I like to stretch out too Captain.” He told her softly and depositing himself in the corner of the sofa extended his legs in front of him in a way that the more rigid confines of the chairs did not allow. When he propped his elbow on the sofa-back and then rested his head against the palm, she understood how tired he was; it just wasn’t like him to… make himself comfortable at the expense of admirally dignity. Not, she thought slowly as she took him in, that there was anything even remotely undignified about his posture. He just seemed more human somehow–less the indomitable admiral and more… she hesitated feeling it out…
He leveled his gaze at her in his typical direct manner but there was a reserve in it that made her wonder. “I have a spinal port.” He said matter-of-factly. “Through which I receive injections in order to manage certain physiological matters.” Here he paused briefly seemingly expecting a reaction so Cam nodded to confirm her understanding. Holy crap. She thought to herself but managed not to allow that to escape. “Okay.” She said instead.
“Some of the medications irritate my physiology, make it difficult to consume food and drink.”
“That’s why you were sick?”
“That’s why I was sick.” He confirmed.
She thought about that. Frowned. “So–how do you eat?”
“I only take injections in the evening, so it doesn’t really affect the rest of the day.”
“Just dinner?” She asked.
“Yes.”
She scowled. “But you don’t eat breakfast or lunch either, that’s why–“
“Everybody thinks I’m an android.” He smiled slightly. “I prefer to eat in my office or quarters,” He explained, “While the medication doesn’t interfere with my actual ability to eat during the day, it does affect my appetite, and I need to focus so that I get appropriate nutrition.”
“Being in the mess is that distracting?”
“It is if you’re looking for a reason not to eat something.” He told her wryly.
“I imagine the food doesn’t help either.” She added thinking of the previous night’s casserole with less than fond thoughts.
That earned her a small smile. “It has its moments.”
Cam leaned back, propped her arm on the back of the sofa, rested her cheek against her hand mirroring him. “So why’d you drink the coffee–eat that biscuit?”
A shrug. “I didn’t want to offend you… and I suppose I overestimated my ability to–” A grimace. “–eat.”
Cam nodded thoughtfully. She had been pissed at him, she couldn’t argue that. She was often angry with him for some reason or other. Reasons usually similar to tonight’s debacle. Tonight though there had been a reason for his apparently offensive behaviour. He hadn’t been feeling well and along she’d come and practically forced coffee and a biscuit on him and made it worse. She’d then compounded the problem by refusing to leave when he’d demanded she do so in an attempt to gain a little privacy so he could be ill. She’d totally misjudged the subtext of the encounter / evening and it made her wonder what else–how else, she’d misjudged him. “You have your reasons for not simply telling me I suppose?”
He stared at her for a moment, glanced down. “I–suppose… its just private.” Another little half shrug. “Not precisely an item for morning meetings.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile.
“Does it bother you to talk about it?” Cam asked curiously because he didn’t seem particularly agitated by the conversation.
“Not if it doesn’t bother you.” There was a challenge in there somewhere Cam thought. It was her turn to shrug. “It doesn’t bother me.”
I
August 10, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / Screwdrivers eh?
Writing Prompt: Screwdrivers eh?
*****
Tessa Santoclair was happily engaged in scoping out her new environs from the comfort of a barstool in the officers club when the sight of a particularly grim faced senior officer limping through the door caught her attention.
After a moment eyeing the amount of silver on his shoulders she gave a mental shrug, punctuated it with a sip of her drink-something the bartender had told her was called a Screwdriver, and made a mental note to review the fleet rank insignia again. After a couple more drinks. She decided recalling with distaste the pile of charts she’d been given to study after she’d been assigned to the Crimson Tide–the pile of charts now stacked on her desk awaiting her attention– And after a little more people watching. She told herself as the peculiar duality of the man’s gait drew her attention back to him. It was odd to see such a powerfully built man–he had to be about six foot two and broad with it…solidly muscled in a way that screamed combat branch–prowling along with such assured authority even while simultaneously favoring his right leg.
Hip and lower back injury. Her professional half chimed while her non-professional, not on active duty yet half admired his quads. Wouldn’t toss him out of bed. She thought irreverently as she hooked her right foot round the stool’s footrest and spun herself around to better follow his progress.
Apparently, either unaware, or uncaring of her scrutiny he headed towards the unoccupied stool beside her and pulled himself up onto it with a soft grunt that borders on a groan. Up close she could see that his face was almost grey with exhaustion and that deep grooves of strain lined his mouth and the corners of his eyes. “Looks like you could use a drink!” She blurted without thinking, and knew she was tipsy when he turned to her in disbelief and she felt not one bit of mortification about being the subject of that look. “I recommend the screwdrivers.” She told him taking the opportunity to study his face. Heavy bone structure, thick brow. He must be the half Recessive, She recalled the medical files she’d reviewed in preparation for her new job. That would make him either the marine commander. She lifted her drink. “Tastes like juice.” She elaborated for his benefit.
“I see.” Was that a glimmer of amusement in his gaze?
“Apparently it’s very popular amongst the humans.”
The amusement died and he began to look a little grim around the eyes and mouth as some internal tension pulled at the muscles in his face. He gave her a look. A look that told her he knew what she was about.
Tessa frowned because she had no idea what he thought he knew she was about and then just as swiftly decided she didn’t care. Suspicious man could keep his suspicious thoughts to himself she thought and continued on with her advertisement of her new favorite drink. “But I like it too.” She nodded to lend emphasis to her statement. “I’m going to have to tell my people.”
It was his turn to frown. “Your people?”
Are you daft? Was her first thought and then she reached up to confirm what she’d forgotten in her excitement over her new drink; her hair was down and covering her ears. Which makes sense since you’re in your civvies. She reminded herself acerbically. You are drunk girl! “You know.” She said to the commander rather apologetically tucking her hair behind her left ear to expose the pointed tip.
“Doctor Santoclair?!” He asked disbelievingly.
“We drink too!” She told him a little taken aback by that disbelief.
He gave her a long look. “I didn’t intend to imply otherwise.” He told her with some care. “Screwdrivers eh?”
Tessa regarded him over her glass as she took another pull on her straw. “Yes.” She waved at the bartender to indicate she’d like a refill; lifted an inquiring brow at him.
“Okay.” He conceded, and she held up a second finger to indicate she’d be requiring an additional drink. After surrendering her empty glass to a passing barmaid she eyed the way he sat; leaning heavily on the left arm of his chair with his right leg braced on the rail beneath he bar. “You should have that looked at.” She told him airily. Clearly need to drink more to shut up that professional half.
He slanted her a glance. “What makes you think I haven’t?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone she decided. A whole lot of tiredness and pain, and a bare modicum amusement. Maybe you need two drinks–to catch up.
“Commander–” She leaned closer in order to peer at the name patch on his chest. “Stone. Stone? Really?!” A look up into his face stopped her. Not amused. Definitely not amused. “Er–anyway, you’re here aren’t you?” She gave a little wave to indicate the vicinity of the club. “And at this hour.” She held up a finger to ward off any protest he may have offered. “And even in the unlikely event that you’re the type to begin a shift with drinks over breakfast; the way you’re walking and guarding tells me that you’ve spent hours up and about on that leg.” With a grateful nod she accepted a glass from the bartender and indicated with a tip of her head that the second one belonged in front of her companion. “You should get it looked at.” She repeated and dipped her head to take a sip from her drink. “If ever a man needed a massage,” She added, “It’s you.”
Stone stared at her, unmoving, unblinking. Like a great stone basilisk, she thought suddenly and almost giggled aloud at the image. Stone. “I’ve just come from sickbay and physiotherapy.” He told her without inflection.
Tessa blinked; recalled her stack of charts sadly. “Then I see I have a lot of work to do.” She said.
He stared at her a moment longer then turned away and lifting his glass downed it in one go, set the glass down and carefully slid to his feet. “Thanks for the drink.” He said solemnly and nodding once, not unkindly, turned and limped away.
August 9, 2019
SFR Flash Fiction / Command Decision
Writing Prompt: “Command Decision”
*****
“Sit Rep?”
Captain Kataria Arpad glanced up from the screen of the Data Port she was using and rolled her eyes at her Chief Medical Officer. “Dour.” She answered only half-joking as she reached to accept the tea the other woman proffered. With her other hand she thumped the panel that declared the Data Station property of Argus Space Station, Docking Bay 7: FOR OFFICIAL USE ONLY. “These systems weren’t designed for this.”
It was Dr. Thea Santoclair’s turn to shrug. “It’s not like they could have predicted this.”
“What? That an Imperial Space Fleet delegation would be waiting on station to return to their ship just when all seven circles of hell breaks loose, war is declared and said delegation is stuck cooling their heels on station with a bunch of slagging civilians and unable to reach their duty stations because their ship is otherwise occupied defending the sector’s jump-gate from attack?” Kate asked dryly. “That indicates a serious lack of imagination on the part of the engineers who designed this station.” She offered the other woman a small smirk and took a sip of her own tea.
“Troglodytes.” Thea agreed eyes sparkling in amusement.
Kate stood and leaned one hip against the console as she began to rotate her shoulders this way and that in an attempt to loosen muscles that had stiffened during the hours she’d been hunched over the computer. “Seriously though, we’re stuck cooling our heels for awhile yet.” With her free hand Kate checked to see that her hair was still relatively tidy, one half of her brain noting absently that it was time for a cut when she felt how close it was to brushing her shoulders. “The Tide will have dispatched a shuttle but they’ll be running dark so that means no interstellar jumps which means that we’ve got at most another 48 hours here… 36 at best.” She sent Thea a speculative look. “Unless something better turns up and we choose to divest these kind people of their ride.”
The CMO shrugged. “Command Decision.” She said airily and raised her cup in a mock salute to the authority of the Captain. “I’m strictly bones and colds remember?”
Kate raised her eyebrow at that. “Being Medical hasn’t stopped you from sticking your nose in on any number of previous—“
Thea cut her off with a raised hand. ” Perhaps not.” she agreed and then gave an ironic little half bow. “However, on this occasion, I shall willingly cede to your superior judgement, years of experience, your innate gravitas, your supreme authority—“
“My ability to know when someone is blowing air up my proverbial skirt.” It was Kate’s turn to interrupt and she did so with a grin. “What exactly is all this in honour of Doctor?” Kate swirled the tea in her cup with a smile.
“Nothing.” Thea replied promptly; all innocence.
Kate raised her eyebrows at her friend.
“Well, I suppose…” The woman began.
“Suppose what?”
“I suppose I was just wondering what you’re going to do about that?” Thea asked jerking her head slightly to the right.
*****
Kate glanced over to the spot where her executive officer sat on the floor; knees drawn up, head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed, empty space all around. No one wanted to sit near a half Recessive on a good day on this gods-be-damned hole of a space port, never mind next to a suspiciously ill looking half Rec like her second in command. Still the issue was hardly high on her list at the moment. Just so long as the natives weren’t getting restless…
“That is Commander Junnet.” Kate said deliberately.
“I realize that this breaks all sorts of protocol.” Thea said just as deliberately, indicating with a significant look, that she had received Kate’s message. She looked down at her tea for a moment before looking back up at the other woman blue eyes intent. “And that this is a subject that is not, even at the best of times, up for discussion but…” Another quick glance down into her tea and a wry smile. “These are certainly not the best of times are they?”
When Thea glanced up again she held Kate’s by now forbidding gaze until the other woman sighed and rolled her shoulders. “No, they are not.” She relented reluctantly. She glanced at her XO briefly. “What’s—“ She scowled as she searched for the appropriate words. “What’s wrong with him?” She glanced back at Thea expectantly.
“Nothing.” The CMO replied softly and when Kate looked askance at that she gave her a chiding look. “This is a natural part of his physiology Captain.”
Kate watched Thea’s face as she considered that. “Message received. What’s going on with him?” She rephrased her question and then wrinkled her nose and added. “Exactly.” In deference to Thea’s frown. The frown that indicated that she knew the Captain knew about her XO’s medical issues at least as far as they were recorded in his personnel jacket.
“As you know we were delayed several days on planet.” Thea began.
“I am aware.” Kate replied dryly.
“Well as a result, the Commander’s gone off his meds.” The CMO narrowed her eyes at the Captain.
“And?” Kate frowned confused. “Can’t you just give him something?” She waved a hand to indicate her lack of knowledge of the technical details and continued. “Manually?” She elaborated, full aware from his personnel file that Junnet had a spinal pump implanted that kept the drugs he needed to keep his hormones leveled out and, circulating at a constant level throughout his body.
Thea shook her head. “It’s not that simple.” She explained. “As long as he’s been on these meds, he’s started to develop resistance. Without careful analysis and appropriate cautionary procedures, adjustments,” She elaborated for the Captain’s benefit. “He is at high risk for adverse reactions both from the med cocktail as well as from fluctuations in med levels because without the pump there’s no way to keep his levels constant.”
“How serious are these adverse reactions?” Kate asked wanting to see the whole picture so that she could make an appropriate decision for her crew. She suspected, by her CMO’s presence and involvement of her in a strictly medical situation, that she already knew the answer to that.
“Potentially deadly.” The doc confirmed quietly. “If we were on board…”
“You’d have the appropriate medical facilities to treat complications?” It was only half question.
Thea nodded. “I can’t do anything for him here.” She looked disgusted. “The station isn’t equipped for someone like him and I wasn’t expecting–” Her spread hands encompassed their present situation. “This so I only have a basic med-kit on me.” The woman looked faintly embarrassed to be caught with her proverbial pants down.
Kate shrugged. “You’re not the only one.” She assured her friend. “In future though we’ll have to—“
“Do better.” Thea finished for her solemnly although her eyes twinkled slightly at the use of what was by now a very well known aphorism of the Captain’s.
May 2, 2018
Amended Release Date for The Iron Lieutenant
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Due to technical issues (I’m still quite new at this.), I have had to delay the release date of the Iron Lieutenant until May 11th 2018.
To make up for this delay, I am planning to offer The Iron Lieutenant for $0.99 during the pre-order period.
I will also be offering free reader copies of The Iron Lieutenant for a limited period of time beginning May 1st. Details to be announced on May 1st on my main page.
Cover Reveal for The Iron Lieutenant
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March 5, 2018
New Cover for The Glass Admiral
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Confession Time
I am an introvert who is almost always thinking about stuff (plots, characters, what-ifs) and having imaginary conversations with fictional people in my head (you know how it is right?) and so I often give people the wrong impression. Mostly they think I am angry. Sometimes they think I am a lunatic. (This is not necessarily untrue. I mean, you kind of have to be a lunatic to sit all day turning caffeine into imaginary people and worlds.)
In any case, if we ever meet, please know that I am not making faces at you, I am making faces at whatever is happening in my imaginary middle distance and you’ve just wandered into my real middle distance and some sort of inter-dimensional mingling has occurred and made things awkward.
So, you may be asking, what does this have to do with a new cover for The Glass Admiral?
Well, you see, The Glass Admiral has been suffering from a similar issues. As some very helpful readers have pointed out, the previous cover was more science fiction than romance and it confused some readers about the genre of the book.
Therefore, I have ahem tried to romance things up a bit by including Kosuri’s admittedly very nice torso on the new cover as well as a tagline to clarify the genre a bit more.
Please do feel free to let me know what you think or offer any suggestions you may have in the comments section below.
~Kit
![[image error]](https://i1.wp.com/kit-smart.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/FF-SFR-Icon036-6x9-Standing-Ereader-Tablet-Coffee-Cup-COVERVAULT.png?ssl=1){kind=link}