Progenitor - Michael Jan Friedman [16]
Not so long ago, Ben Zoma had made Wu the object of a strict interpretation of the rules, giving her a taste of how it felt. Since then, she had become less of a stickler about regulations, and her relationships with the crew had improved as a result.
Nor, to her surprise, had anyone’s efficiency suffered. It was a lesson Wu now wished she had learned years earlier.
“It’s all right,” she told Jiterica. “It’s a minor infraction. There’s no need to apologize.”
The ensign gazed at her for a moment, her ghostly visage unreadable. “Thank you,” she said at last.
“Don’t mention it,” Wu assured her.
Peering over Jiterica’s shoulder at the monitor, she saw that the ensign was studying the file on Gamma Barchedden V, a gas giant in a distant star system. She wondered why—until she remembered that Jiterica had grown up in the atmosphere of a gas giant.
When Wu regarded Jiterica again, she thought she saw a sadness in her strange, translucent eyes. A melancholy, as if she had lost something dear to her.
“Are you...homesick?” Wu asked.
Jiterica didn’t give her an answer right away. And when she did, it was an elusive one. “I was just trying to gain a better understanding of Gamma Barchedden.”
Understanding that the subject might be an emotional one, the second officer didn’t probe any deeper. “I see,” was all she said.
The ensign got to her feet—a less than graceful maneuver, thanks to the cumbersome suit she wore. “I’m due on the bridge in a few minutes,” she told Wu. Then she brushed past her and made for the exit.
Wu’s heart went out to Jiterica. After all, the Nizhrak hadn’t had an easy time of it on her last vessel, nor had she made any friends to this point on the Stargazer.
And yet, if not for her contribution to their search for the White Wolf, they might never have had an opportunity to find the pirate. Obviously, the ensign had a lot to offer.
But she might never get the chance unless someone took her under her wing. Someone like me, Wu thought.
She might not have planned to serve on the Stargazer much longer, but while she was there she was going to see what she could do on behalf of Ensign Jiterica.
Vigo wasn’t exactly a stranger to the Stargazer’s engineering section. As chief weapons officer, he often had occasion to check on the various systems that generated and delivered the energy used in phaser and photon torpedo barrages.
But he hadn’t come to engineering to check on any systems this time. He had come to see his friend Pug Joseph.
Vigo found him in his office, a small cubicle that lay just past the weapons diagnostic room and opposite the locked phaser armory. As the Pandrilite filled the doorway with his bulk, he saw Joseph look up from whatever work he was doing on his computer terminal.
“Vigo,” said the security chief. He swiveled around in his chair. “What’s up?”
“I... wanted to speak with you,” the Pandrilite told him.
Joseph’s brow pinched over the bridge of his nose.
“You don’t look so good. Is everything all right?”
Vigo averted his eyes. “Perhaps not everything.”
The human leaned forward. “What’s the matter?”
“I’ve had a . . .bad experience,” Vigo said.
“Bad in what way?”
Vigo frowned. It was an awkward expression for him. A smile would have felt much more natural.
“I just spoke with Lieutenant Kastiigan in his quarters. Apparently, he intends to die.”
Joseph stared at his friend. “I hate to tell you, buddy, but I don’t think any of us has a choice in the matter.”
“No,” said Vigo, struggling to explain. “He doesn’t expect to die. He intends to die.”
The security officer looked strained as he tried to figure out the difference. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
The Pandrilite heaved a sigh. “I don’t suppose I’m explaining this very well.”
“Why don’t we try it again? You spoke with Kastiigan, right? And he told you...?” Joseph held his hands out, palms up, indicating that it was Vigo’s turn to speak.
“He told me that he wanted to die. He wanted to give his life for his captain and comrades.”
Joseph shrugged.