No Surrender - Jeff Mariotte [5]
“We’ll definitely need Elizabeth,” Sonya said. Elizabeth Lense was the ship’s chief medical officer.
“Emmett and the other medical crew will be on standby here on the ship,” Gold said. “Once the systems are back on-line over there, those with the worst injuries can be beamed here to sickbay. There are likely to be a lot of injuries on that station. Most likely a good number of fatalities, too, I’m afraid. It’s been flailing around out there for hours and hours at this point.”
“Very well, sir,” Sonya said. “I’ll call a meeting and brief them right away.”
“I think that would be an excellent idea,” Gold said. “And you might think about sitting on opposite sides of the table when the meeting takes place.”
Kieran shuddered as Gold left the observation lounge.
“What?” Sonya asked.
“Sorry, just had flashbacks to my father yelling at me when I was a teenager.”
* * *
Gold had mixed feelings about the relationship between Gomez and Duffy. On the one hand, he firmly approved of being in love, if love it was. He certainly loved Rachel with all his heart. But on the other hand, he didn’t serve aboard starship with Rachel. He missed her while he was away and she was home in New York. But he didn’t have to worry, every time he went into action, where she was or if she would be harmed. He was afraid that if these two got too involved, there was always the chance that they’d be watching out for each other to the detriment of themselves, or the rest of the crew.
They were both professionals, he knew. They’d proven themselves over and over again, under every type of circumstance. There was nothing they couldn’t handle. In fact, when Security Chief Corsi had raised her own objections to the romance, Gold had defended their right to pursue the relationship, as long as it didn’t interfere with their duties.
That was the problem, of course—shipboard romances could cause all sorts of tsuris. The same concerns went, he supposed, for close shipboard friendships, even when there was no romantic element involved. He and Gus Bradford had been that way, for a while. They’d watched each other’s backs, tended each other’s wounds. Along the way they’d come to know each other as well, Gold thought, as two people could.
He found that part of him was looking forward to seeing Gus. In spite of the man’s terse dismissal of him twelve years ago, and his refusal to talk to Gold since, he found Gus an enjoyable man to spend time with, and figured that probably hadn’t changed. He was an articulate and creative man, a kind of philosopher. He was always thinking, always seeking, investigating new spiritual or intellectual paths. When he had an idea, he clung to it with bulldog tenacity. “No surrender” was his motto in his arguments with Gold. He would argue until he was blue in the face, but it always came down to, “No surrender, Gold. No surrender.” Until the next new idea came around, at least.
He wondered if it was that stubborn streak that had landed Gus on the Plat. He’d find out soon enough, he guessed.
Sonya had chosen an away team consisting of Duffy, Soloman, P8 Blue, and Stevens. Domenica Corsi would head up the security contingent, accompanied by Drew, Hawkins, and Frnats.
Sonya had gathered them all in the briefing room and showed them the station’s layout. Another viewscreen showed the prison platform itself, since they were now within visual range.
“That’s a prison,” Corsi said, belaboring the obvious. As usual, Core-Breach’s blonde hair was pulled back into a bun so tight Sonya was afraid the security chief’s skin would tear if she cracked a smile. “And we don’t know what conditions are like inside. So my people go in first.”
“Our initial problem is getting in at all,” Sonya reminded her. “The Kursican authorities can’t—or won’t—tell us the modulation frequencies of the defensive shields, so we can’t beam in.” She had already outlined the impossibility of landing a shuttle, and the defensive weapons they would encounter if they took