Page 17 of Black Star
Chapter Seven
The medical unit on this new ship was smaller than that of the Black Star , but it was a great deal more comfortable. This was a ship built with her crew’s comfort in mind. For all the technology she saw, and all the comforts afforded the patients here, Phoebe didn’t see nearly enough staff. From what she could gather, there was one doctor and three nurses. Compared with Black Star ’s one doctor, she supposed it was a lot, but there were at least eight men injured in the fight, not to mention Diamond, who was by far the most critically injured.
Everyone’s time was taken up with the care of Diamond, the woman who had initiated the daring assault, and the men were left to wait until someone was free to tend them. Phoebe’s injuries were minor. She’d been hurt worse on the station and managed to treat herself.
Looking around, she saw things she could do. The man sitting next to her was burned from his knee down, the flesh red and covered with blisters, but not charred and blackened. It probably hurt like a son of a bitch. If she put some clean cloths over it and found clean cool water, she could at least give him some temporary relief. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before for the females in the lower part of Graves Station.
No one was paying any of them any attention, so Phoebe took a quick look at everyone around her. Some of the patients had burns as severe -- or worse -- than the first man she’d looked at, but most were minor burns, cuts, and bumps. Phoebe then pilfered every cabinet and drawer she found for bandages and basins. This ship seemed to have plenty of water, thankfully, so treating the burns was relatively easy.
Caring for these men wasn’t the burden she had felt back on the station. She had only been with them a day, but already she got the impression they embraced her as one of their own. As she started her rounds, treating them as best she could, they thanked her. With hopeful looks when she passed, hoping for a little relief, maybe just a kind smile, they all looked at her like she was someone important. She didn’t see the insulting or suggestive looks she often did from men on the station. These men expected she knew what to do and would take care of them. Even more, she didn’t want to let them down.
By the time the unit staff returned from their critical patient, Phoebe had done all she could. Many of the wounded would require more than she was capable of giving, but she had eased their pain and gotten to know all of them in the process.
“Will she make it?” Phoebe was as anxious about the one person in the group she didn’t know as she was about the men she now considered friends.
“I honestly don’t know,” the doctor stated frankly. “Time will tell. She’s strong, and fighting hard.” He glanced in the direction of his patient. “With rest and strength of will, she’s got a good chance.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for the hospitality, doctor, but how soon can we return to the Black Star ? They only have one physician on board and no staff. I’m sure they could use any help they can get. These men are roughly half his crew. I’m sure he needs them.”
The man glanced around the room once, did a double take and walked to one of the men from the Black Star . After examining the wound Phoebe had dressed, he asked, “Is there anyone who still needs attention?”
“Well --” she cleared her throat, “-- Josiah has some pretty bad burns. He’s comfortable, but he’ll need something more than my pitiful efforts. Cain has a pretty deep gash on his right thigh. It’s bandaged and the bleeding’s stopped, but it will need to be sealed. I think Evan has a broken wrist, but the rest aren’t so bad. They can tell you more about what they need than I can.”
“Don’t let her fool you, Doc.” Cain, who was sitting next to where Phoebe was standing, clapped her on the back hard enough to make her stagger forward. “She’s had experience with patching people up.”
“It definitely looks like it.” Doc made a quick examination of every man in the room. “As much as I’d love to let you get back to your ship, I can’t.” Everyone in the room protested at once. Doc held up his hand for silence. “I’m sorry! There’s nothing we can do. There’s a carrier ship just out of hyperspace in the sector. Captain Anjoom has given orders for closed quarters. No off duty personnel is to be roaming the ship. We all have to stay put for safety reasons.”
Outrage spread across the men. Some of them jumped up from their beds and would have advanced on the poor doctor if Phoebe hadn’t stepped smoothly in between them.
“Just wait,” she hissed at Josiah. The tall, lean redhead backed down, but not willingly. “Just wait, Josiah.”
“The captain needs us, Phoebe. He’s running on less than a skeleton crew.”
“I know, but the doctor can’t countermand an order from his own captain.” She needed to keep them calm if her plan was going to work.
“So what do you suggest we do? Leave Captain Singh to defend himself?”
Phoebe grabbed his face in her hands and made him look her in the eye. “Yes, Josiah. That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
There was silence while Phoebe willed the young man to trust her. She hadn’t survived the wrath of the Hand of God by being stupid. You tell the powers that be what they want to hear, then you do what you have to. Fortunately, the doctor on Sword Breaker wasn’t a member of the Hand.
“Good.” The old doctor clapped his hands together. “I’ll get back to my patient. Just stay put, and as soon as the crisis is over, I’m sure the captain will see to it you’re returned to your ship with all possible speed.”
It was obvious the doctor wasn’t interested in staying around to confront anyone. When he left to go back to his patient, Phoebe let Josiah go and went to a computer display. A graphic of the ship’s interior was displayed prominently, most likely for ease of movement in the case of an emergency.
“Look.” Phoebe pointed at the image. “The shuttle bay is only a few hundred meters away. It shouldn’t take long to get there.”
“I just looked out the door, Phoebe.” Evan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There aren’t many people out there, but I seriously doubt they’re going to let us just roam around the ship at will.”
“Who said anything about going out the door?” Phoebe raised an eyebrow and grinned.
* * *
It only took them ten minutes of crawling through the ventilation and maintenance crawl spaces, but it was six minutes too long for Phoebe. Unfortunately, those shafts weren’t made for solidly built, really big soldiers, especially with each dragging a suit through the shafts. There was more pushing and shoving from the men in the ducts than feeding time in a herd full of starved yassats . More than one of the men got stuck, but everyone managed to make it.
Phoebe crouched behind a crate in the main hangar area, assessing their options. They weren’t good.
“Somehow, I doubt we’d make it to the shuttle and manage to take off before anyone notices it missing,” one of the older men -- Lammet -- observed. “Besides, with all the fighting going on, I’m not so sure a shuttle is a good idea. We’d be blown to bits.”
“True,” Phoebe agreed absently. She was thinking. The shuttle was definitely out of the question. “But, what if we didn’t take the shuttle?”
Eight pairs of eyes looked at her with a combination of disbelief, dread, and that you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look only men could produce.
* * *
Laser fire streaked through space at horrifying intensity and concentration. Explosions flashed on all three ships engaged in the battle as lasers bounced off deflector shields, but no sound reached Phoebe’s ears inside the airtight helmet. It was like watching a film with the sound switched off.
For space to be so empty, Phoebe would have thought she and her companions would have had more room to maneuver, but instead it just made the laser bolts seem that much bigger. They were designed to bring down a destroyer class warship, after all. This close to them, one bolt looked three times as big as a shuttle bay outer door. Perhaps a space walk from ship to ship using the portable tractor beam they’d “borrowed” as propulsion wasn’t as great an idea as she’d first thought. Especially not during a battle. Hell, it would have sucked yassat turds in the best of conditions. This was not the best of conditions. There was nothing like floating through the vast emptiness of space to prove exactly how tiny you were in the great universe. As it was, Phoebe was getting a panicky feeling from being in such an open area.
“We’re sitting ducks out here,” Evan commed. At the end of the line, he double-checked everyone’s tether for the fifth time as they were pulled along. “Not to mention the risk of losing the tractor lock if they do too many extreme maneuvers.”
“I know, but would you rather wait until this is all over to get back to your ship?” Phoebe couldn’t agree more with Evan, but they’d come over halfway. Turning around now wasn’t an option. They didn’t have enough oxygen to get back.
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying there had to be a better way than this.”
“You had your chance to come up with a better idea. No one said anything.”
“Well, this seemed like a good idea at the time. I revised my opinion the first time the heat of a near miss made my hair sizzle though.”
“We’re almost there. Only a few hundred more yards and we’ll be inside the Black Star ’s shields. That should give us enough protection until we get inside.”
“Are you sure we can penetrate those shields?”
“Sure,” Phoebe lied through her teeth. She wasn’t at all sure. “The basic design of a standard deflector shield is to prevent super heated or fast moving material from penetrating. Since we’re neither, we should have no problems getting in.”
No one said anything. Phoebe knew the principle was sound, but she had no idea if Black Star used a standard shield or not. All she knew was Damon needed manpower, and if these men were willing to follow her, willing to try, she’d do anything she had to in order to get them there. They knew the risks -- probably better than she did. Besides, another few seconds would tell the tale.
“Phoebe, what the hell are you doing?!” The voice that squawked over the comm unit was Damon’s. He wasn’t a bit happy. In fact, he sounded furious. If she’d known she could have communicated with the Black Star , she’d have given them a heads up before they got caught in the laser fire.
“We’re approaching your deflector shield. Can we get through or will we bounce off?”
“I have your location. I’ll deactivate that section. Get through as fast as you can and get your ass aboard this ship. Out.”
Phoebe winced. This might not have been the smartest thing she’d ever done.
The rest of the trip didn’t take long, and it was made in silence. By the time they entered through the same blow hatch Phoebe had used during the first skirmish, the battle was over and Captain Singh was waiting for them. There was no mistaking he was indeed Captain Singh -- the tender, loving Damon Phoebe had fallen in love with was nowhere to be found.
“You risked not only your life, but the lives of eight members of my crew with that little stunt. What exactly did you think you were going to accomplish?” Damon’s features were hard, and his eyes flashed in unmistakable anger. Pissed didn’t begin to cover it.
“You were fighting with so few men aboard the ship, I thought you could use some extra hands.”
Damon slammed his fist into a nearby crate. “And how did you help us? The fighting’s over! You took my men into the middle of a firefight -- without even the protection of the most rudimentary of ships -- for no reason! That was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen, not to mention the stupidest! The way you were tied together, if one of you had been hit, the force would have sent the rest of you hurling off into deep space!” He had to lean down because he was so much taller than Phoebe, but he got in her face, almost nose to nose. “Consider yourself relieved of duty.” He turned his back on her and stalked away. As he did, he gave one final order. “Viktor, Phoebe Lightheart is charged with intentionally and recklessly endangering the lives of eight members of this crew -- possibly the entire ship as well. Place her under arrest and put her in a holding cell.”
Phoebe’s heart pounded. What had just happened? “Damon?”
“You’d do well to address him as ‘Captain Singh’ or ‘Sir,’ Miss.” Viktor gave her the creeps from the first moment she’d met him. Now, he looked more terrifying than anything from her worst nightmare.
Tears formed, but she refused to let them fall. She looked back at the eight men who’d come with her on that crazy stunt. They stood smartly at attention. None of them met her gaze. “I don’t understand. I was only trying to help.”
Viktor ignored her. “You will come with me now.” He didn’t give her a chance to comply. He simply took her by the upper arm and practically dragged her to her cell, shoved her in, and turned on the force field. Before he left, he growled at her, “You’ve betrayed this ship and her crew, but more importantly you’ve betrayed a man who loved you more than you’ll ever know. That man is the best friend I’ve ever had, and I take this very personally. You may not have figured it out yet, but I’m not someone you want for an enemy.” The smile he gave her was positively evil. “Sleep well, my dear. If you dare.”
This was all of Phoebe’s fears come true. She could have still been on Graves Station. Locked up without understanding why and unsure of what her future might be, Phoebe sat on the slim cot and folded her hands in her lap. She would sit there until they came for her. When they did, she would do what she was told and accept her fate as it came to her. Most importantly, she would not let them see her cry.
She would not let them see her cry.
The tears came, anyway.