Security - Keith R. A. DeCandido [16]
“Okay.” Corsi was familiar with the regulation, but anyone in security could handle this.
Waldheim spoke up then. “You will serve as liaison between Officer Vale and Starfleet for the duration of the investigation, Lieutenant, starting first thing in the morning.”
Corsi opened her mouth to complain, then stopped. She didn’t want to air her dirty laundry in front of a stranger.
“Thank you very much, Lieutenant Corsi,” Vale said. “I’m looking forward to working with you.” Turning to Waldheim, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get back to the surface. I’m expecting the full lab report on last night’s victim.”
Waldheim unfolded his arms and nodded his head. “Of course, Officer Vale. Please, if you could forward that report to us, it would help us to get started.”
“Sure.” Vale gave Corsi a quick nod and then left.
As soon as the doors closed behind her, Waldheim held up one of his large hands. “I know what you’re going to say, Domenica, and I’m sorry, I didn’t set out to ruin your leave, but—”
“It’s okay.” Corsi had thought about it and her anger had already burned to ashes. “I take it the Izarian authorities are in a tizzy?”
“You bet—and can you blame them? Every time I think we’ve finally achieved paradise, something like this bites us on the ass. It’s like an asymptotic curve—keeps getting closer, but never quite makes it.” He shook his head. “Starfleet Command’s in as big a tizzy, believe me. Captain Van Olden got a fifteen-minute lecture from Admiral Toddman.”
“Right, so obviously this liaison work can’t be handled by anyone less than the deputy chief of security.” She smiled wryly. “So why isn’t it being handled by anyone greater than the deputy chief of security?”
Corsi was, she knew, the only person on the ship besides Captain Van Olden and Commander Znirka-Tul who could get away with snarking Waldheim like that, as proven by his chuckle in response. “Because, Lieutenant, if I handled it, I’d have to put you in charge of the security detail on the Heyer away team in my place. That team is transporting over in forty-five minutes. By giving you liaison duty, it means you don’t have to start until 0830 tomorrow morning—which gives you the entire evening to do whatever your little heart desires.”
Realization dawned on Corsi. It obviously showed on her face, because Waldheim folded his hands on the table in front of him, which he always did when he was about to impart good news. “So as of now, you’re off duty. I’ve already ordered DiGennaro to take the rest of your shift at tactical. Go on, shoo! Have fun with Lieutenant Ableen.”
Backing toward the door—which parted, letting in the blessedly warmer air from the corridor—Corsi said, “Heinrich, thank you. You are a prince. I take back most of the things I’ve said about you.”
He grinned. “Do I get to pick which ones?”
Chuckling, she double-timed it to her quarters, and immediately put a personal call through to the supply office on the Starfleet base outside of Garthtown.
A few minutes later, the beautiful face of Lieutenant Dar Ableen appeared on the small viewer on the desk in her quarters. Dar had sea-blue eyes that matched Corsi’s own, perfect cheekbones, and a hook nose that on anyone else would have looked awful, but worked with his face for some reason. He had no chin to speak of, but he covered that by wearing a Vandyke beard that was as dark as his semi-curly hair. They had first met in a martial arts class; he joked that it was there that he fell for her—over and over again. In fact, he had always had a superb grasp of the martial arts of many different worlds, so much so that many of his instructors—and Corsi, for that matter— encouraged him to focus on security. But Dar had preferred a career in supply, citing it as “less stressful.”
On those occasions when she saw him, she was always drawn first to his eyes. She could just get lost in them.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey. Well, I’ve got good news and bad news….”
Chapter
8
Peace Officer