Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [11]
Though Eden appeared calm, there was no mistaking the mild displeasure in her tone as she leaned toward Tom and asked, “We seem to be one crewman short this morning, don’t we?”
Keeping his voice low, Paris replied, “I’m sure she’s on her way.”
“She knows what time alpha shift begins, right?” Eden asked lightly. Tom thought she was teasing him, but they hadn’t served together long enough as captain and first officer for him to be certain.
“If there’s any confusion on that point, I’ll be certain to clear it up,” Paris assured the captain. As Voyager’s former flight controller, Tom knew that on a day like today the most dangerous place on the ship would have been between him and his helm. After days of simulations it was time for the first test run of their new slipstream drive. Gwyn should have arrived early just out of a sense of enthusiasm. Further, her terribly conspicuous absence reflected badly on Tom’s ability as first officer. Thus far he’d found Gwyn competent, if a little intense.
Finally, the turbolift doors opened and every head on the bridge turned to see Aytar Gwyn bent over, struggling to pull on one of her boots. Only once the task was complete did the young woman realize she was the center of attention. Righting herself quickly, she ran one hand through her short, spiked, deep-blue hair, briefly revealing a series of light brown geometric shapes running along her hairline, lifted her chin defiantly, and hurried to her post.
Paris wasn’t impressed but noted a slight smile on Harry’s lips as he lowered his head and returned his attention to his station, where it belonged.
Gods help us all if Harry takes a liking to her, Tom thought disdainfully. From the looks of things, Gwyn was shaping up to be a handful. The last thing Tom wanted to hear was his best friend defending clearly inappropriate behavior.
“Good of you to join us, Ensign,” Eden said with obvious disapproval.
“Not a problem at all, Captain,” Gwyn replied cheerfully as she quickly configured her controls and began her pre-test checklist.
“It will be if you’re not at your post on time from this day forward,” Paris added.
“Understood, sir,” Gwyn replied with a nod.
Paris believed that a certain amount of nerve was essential in a good pilot. Any number of people could master the technical skills of the conn, but it took a special combination of cocky and cool to make a great pilot. You had to live for the risks but also be able to intuit which risks were worth taking. Gwyn was already choosing poorly, and that hardly boded well for her.
“Lieutenant Conlon, what’s our status?” Eden asked.
“All vessels are standing by, Captain,” Conlon replied. Tom did not know Voyager’s new chief engineer yet. She had just transferred from the da Vinci and had quickly come up to speed on the new engine specs and already appeared to treat the slipstream drive with the same proprietary pride that B’Elanna had reserved for the warp engines.
“Mister Lasren, open a channel to the fleet,” Eden ordered.
“Channel open, Captain.”
“This is Captain Eden to all fleet vessels. Go to yellow alert and stand by to coordinate slipstream flight.”
After a moment, Lasren reported, “All fleet vessels signal ready, Captain.”
“Very good.” Eden nodded. “Maintain open channel, Ensign. Nancy?”
Conlon muttered something too soft for Paris to hear. He guessed it was her wish for the drive to behave itself over the next few minutes. Finally, in a steady voice she called out, “We’re ready, Captain.”
Eden nodded sharply. If the test run unnerved her in the least, Paris couldn’t tell.
“Ensign Gwyn, confirm heading one three six mark two,” Eden requested.
“Confirmed.”
“All fleet vessels match course and speed, one quarter impulse.”
As Tom imagined