“She was wounded looking for you,” Rhemun snapped. “A loss of time and efficiency.” He glared at Mallory. “Your department would benefit from the same drills I require of command line soldiers. I’ll initiate them when we’re back aboard.” He turned to Mekashe. “We have no time for pleasant conversation.”
“Yes, sir,” Mekashe said, saluting. But he had green eyes when he glanced at Edris.
She only nodded. She didn’t want to see any more of the commander’s temper. She was uneasy enough already. He didn’t want Mekashe around her. She’d have to find a kinder way to deter his friendliness.
EDRIS CONTINUED TO use the hormone suppressant that Hahnson had prescribed for her, but ironically, it seemed to increase the hunger she felt when she saw her commanding officer. It was much worse after her experience on Ondar, saving the Rojok commander. It had irritated Rhemun that she knew so much about his culture’s intimate behaviors. Which didn’t help his attitude toward her; it grew more acrimonious by the day.
His temper was unpredictable, and it escalated. He infuriated the human crew members by assigning them to off-duty education programs, reducing the already-small recreational time they were permitted by over half.
Stern, on behalf of the rest of the crew, protested.
“If you find the tasks aboard a Cehn-Tahr vessel too arduous, Captain,” Rhemun said with faint contempt, “perhaps you would be more content to return to a Terravegan brigade.”
Stern stared at his superior officer with cold eyes. “As I’m certain you already know, Commander,” he said with quiet pride, “I would be used for spare parts, in such case.”
“No military body would tolerate such abuse of its personnel,” Rhemun discounted it. “You exaggerate.”
“I assure you, it is no exaggeration of the facts,” Stern replied. “Perhaps you might ask Commander Dtimun to acquaint you with Terravegan military protocols.”
Rhemun lifted his chin. “I command the Holconcom. Not Dtimun.”
“I know. Sir.” The words conveyed enormous disdain.
“The adjunct educational requirements will be met. Or else. Dismissed!”
Stern saluted and went back to his friends, who were waiting for him in one of the storage areas.
Hahnson activated his white ball. “What did he say? Do we still have to do it?”
Stern nodded. “He’s just looking for ways to provoke us. It’s obvious we don’t need retraining in our respective professions. There’s not even that much new tech to learn, besides that nightmare of an updated astrogation program he dragged me through. Even that isn’t much of an improvement over the software we’re already using, as far as I can see.” He huffed. “Listen, the guy’s a ground pounder,” he said shortly. “He led the emperor’s bodyguard. Great job, he was good at it, but this is the space marines! If anybody needs retraining in his damned profession, it’s him!”
“No argument there,” Hahnson said. “He’s grinding poor Mallory into the ground, for sure. He goes out of his way to stand on her.”
“I noticed that,” Stern replied. “He’s baiting all of us, hoping to start a fight so he can kick us out of the Holconcom.”
“It does seem that way,” engineering exec Higgins said.
“Certainly does,” Chief Communications Officer Jennings seconded. “He’s ticked off most of the comm department with his new requirements and duty stations. Like he knows how to run a starship!”
“How the hell did he end up with Dtimun’s command, anyway?” Stern wanted to know.
“Each military position has a Clan requirement,” Hahnson said. “That’s all I know, so don’t start asking more questions. He was obviously next in line for this post so he got it. End of story.”
“Suppose we pretend we don’t know Dtimun is the emperor’s son.” Stern grinned. “Would they give him back to us?”
“Fat chance. He’s got a son now.” Hahnson chuckled. “He’s not going off into space combat, not if Maddie Ruszel has anything to say about it.”
“Well, back to the subject at hand. Just how long do you think we can hang on here?” Higgins asked Stern. “I mean, he’s going out of his way to push us. He wants us off the ship!”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but he’s right,” Jennings seconded. “He couldn’t make it much plainer.”
“It’s still early days,” Strick Hahnson commented. “He’s not used to a combined command, and he has deep prejudices against humans. He was thrown in headfirst when Dtimun’s real identity as the emperor’s son was divulged. He’d commanded the kehmatemer, the emperor’s bodyguard, for decades. He can’t be much happier than we are.”
“The difference is that he’s in command and we’ve got targets painted on our chests,” Jennings pointed out. “The commander, even when he was furious, never treated us humans any different than the Cehn-Tahr crew members.”
“We went through hell with the commander,” Stern pointed out quietly. “Nobody who lived through Ahkmau could ever tolerate racial prejudice again.”
“That’s true,” Hahnson had to concede.
“The commander saved us all,” Higgins agreed. “What a hell of a rescue it was, too.” He chuckled. “Do you remember how he came walking aboard the Morcai with Mangus Lo over his shoulder?”
“Yeah—” Jennings grinned “—and the way he walked all over Admiral Lawson to get us transferred to the Holconcom, and then led us out of the admiral’s office while he was still in midtirade?”
“Nobody else in the three galaxies like the commander,” Higgins said with pure nostalgia. “What a hell of a commanding officer!”
Stern sighed. “Good days.”
“Never to be lived again,” Jennings lamented.
There was a long silence.
“So, what do we do?” Higgins asked Stern.
Holt Stern’s black eyes were sad. “We hold on for a little while longer, to see if things get any better.”
“And then?” Higgins prompted.
Stern looked at him evenly. “You guys can go back to the Terravegan military without a single black mark on your records. The emperor would go to bat for you.”
“Yeah, but you can’t,” Jennings said. “I’m not going without you, sir.”
“Nor I,” Higgins added.
Hahnson held up his hand and grinned. “Matched set. Can’t break it up, Holt.”
Holt swallowed, hard. “Well, we’ll see how things go.”
They all nodded.
* * *
SO THE OFFICERS and crew, the human ones, went back to school, in a sense, during their off-duty hours. They grumbled, and nobody saw the sense in it. Rhemun ignored them. He’d never hated a posting so much. He even queried the emperor about returning him to the bodyguard unit, but without success.
He was angry, and he took it out on the humans. In all his life, he’d never been forced into a situation he hated as much—well, possibly once. That disgusting, ambitious female and her covert knowledge of herbs that provoked the mating cycle...
He turned his thoughts away from that pride-wrecking memory and the painful