“He’s a very attractive man,” Jen said in a prim tone. “He’s older, mature, perhaps reminds you of your father…”
“What?”
“And that’s why you’re becoming too familiar—”
“Jen. Commander. Stop right there.” Ky held up her hand as she took a deep breath. “Master Sergeant Marek is the ranking enlisted in this group, and the ranking member of the Slotter Key personnel. When I took command—”
“Which you had no legal right to do, I hope you realize!”
“Who do you—” No. Never ask a question to which the answer can be something you don’t want to know. “I was the senior surviving officer and I do have a Slotter Key Spaceforce background.”
“But—”
Ky held up her hand again; Jen looked angry, but didn’t interrupt. “And I asked Master Sergeant Marek if he would have a problem if I took over. He did not.”
“What could he have said, with you the returning hero? Using your prestige to overwhelm—”
“He could have cited military law—I’m sure he knows it—and so could I. Slotter Key military law allows for transfer of command to any commissioned officer in an emergency when the usual chain of command is broken. That’s why Major Yamini—a Slotter Key Spaceforce adviser aboard Captain Argelos’ ship—agreed to operate under my command at the Battle of Boxtop. I’m sorry you weren’t there; it would have saved you concern about the legality of my taking command here.”
“That may be true,” Jen said in a tone that conveyed doubt, “but I’m talking about more than your taking command. It’s your demeanor with Master Sergeant Marek—and with the others as well. You are not maintaining appropriate discipline. It’s not like it was down on the shore—it’s not an emergency anymore. We’re in a safe place, warm, dry, with plenty of food—but you allow undue familiarity, and indeed you practice it yourself.”
Clearly Jen had a load of grievances, but time was passing and Ky could not let this go on all day. How could Jen think the emergency was over? They were still unable to communicate, except by a cranial ansible she dared not use now, still isolated, still in danger the moment they went outside into the frigid winter. Ten or twenty days of comfort did not mean they were safe forever.
Jen went on. “I know about you and Marek… I saw him come out of your quarters at 1400 three days ago. It wasn’t his shift—”
“Where were you?” Ky asked. So Jen had been spying on her—bad enough, but why?
“In my quarters. I heard voices in yours, and then—”
“You looked out your door—”
“Yes. And Master Sergeant Marek came out and when he saw me he looked… well… embarrassed. And he made a sign with his hand and shut the door behind him. He greeted me politely enough. I asked what he was doing in your quarters, and he said he’d been checking on an anomaly in the electrical circuits, which I did not believe for a moment. When he’d gone down the passage, I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer. I suppose you were pulling on your clothes.” That in a tone of prudish outrage.
Ky fought down her own anger, struggling for a cool, level tone. “I didn’t answer because I wasn’t there, Jen. At 1400 three days ago I was topside doing a weather check. Did you not think of checking the signout roster?”
“You could have had someone add your name.”
Worse and worse. “You think I’d alter a roster?”
“If you were trying to hide—that.”
“I’m not trying to hide anything. I spoke to Tech Lundin on the way up the passage, and Ennisay and Kamat had the top guard. Ask them, if you think I’m a liar—but if you do, then we need to have a serious talk about your behavior. If Marek was in my quarters and you heard voices, then someone else was in there, too. I was not.”
Jen still looked angry. “And you just did it again.”
“What?”
“You just call them by their names. You almost never use proper address. It’s Medtech Lundin and Private Ennisay and Specialist Kamat—”
Ky’s patience snapped. “I’ve told you before: this is Slotter Key. We have our own usage. Last names without rank or grade are the way we say it when it’s clear who’s meant. What’s not acceptable is you—my aide.”
“It’s my duty—”
“No. It’s not. Apparently you decided some time back that I was wrong in taking command here and instead of asking me about the legalities—which I would have explained, and so could Master Sergeant Marek—you went on from there to imagine that I was guilty of other inappropriate behavior, including having sex with an enlisted man, without ever checking to see what I was actually doing.”
“But—”
“And that is no part of an aide’s duties, or any military officer’s duties. You owed me the basic courtesy of coming to me as soon as you had such concerns, and of ascertaining that you had the facts right before making such accusations.”
“I did come to you—about spending so much time with Master Sergeant Marek—and I know it bothered him—”
Ky registered the change in Jen’s tone. The meaning came a moment later. “You know—how?”
“He said—I could tell he was distressed—I asked if I could help—he said he was worried about you. Being so young and so inexperienced.”
This could not go on, not here, not now, and not after what Ky had discovered the night before. She let her voice harden. “Commander, we have spent enough time here; we will continue this discussion in a more suitable place. Come with me.”
Jen had gone from flushed to pale. “What do you mean—?”
“What I said.” Ky pushed away from the wall and headed back to the main corridor. “Come along.” As she walked, she thought about Jen’s story of seeing Marek come out of her room. That certainly fit with her suspicions, but why another person in the room? Surely he hadn’t used her room for an assignation with one of the female enlisted. One of the storerooms would have been safer. And who had it been? If Jen hadn’t been so convinced it was Ky, she might have found out who the other saboteur was.
She could not afford anger right now: now was the time for very clear thinking. Most of the things she might have done in other circumstances would not work here and now. She could not have Marek arrested: they had no security force equivalent. She could not call for a triaclass="underline" she had no legal jurisdiction and she knew that the rest of the Slotter Key survivors would not go along with that even if none of the others were co-conspirators. Just killing Marek without warning would break the bond between her and the others, and they all needed to cooperate to survive. Even with the supplies and shelter they’d found, only a coherent group would make it through the time until thaw. If in fact it thawed here.
And what then? Every indication was that this station was in use regularly. At some point, those who had built it, maintained it, used it—and kept it secret—would come back. They would not be pleased to find survivors in their facility. Most likely they’d kill the others. She had to prevent that, and that meant keeping the entire group together, healthy, fit, prepared for whatever might happen.
Which also meant dealing with Jen, and Marek, and whoever else Marek had been working with, because all of those were undermining her, dividing the group into opposing segments. Jen first—Jen had no attachment to the Slotter Key survivors, except perhaps to Marek, and could not take over if Ky fell.
“What about breakfast?” Jen said, pausing at the juncture that led to the mess hall.
“We’re not done,” Ky said. “We can eat later. This way.” Jen scowled but followed her up the main corridor.
Where could they go and be alone, unheard, and yet not too vulnerable if Marek had spooked and thought of killing the two officers at once? She dismissed the restrooms, the storage rooms. The armory—that could work. And she could change the ammunition in her magazines to what she preferred for an indoor firefight.