“Ah, Major Eisenherz.” The flash of an ivory smile framed in narrow, austere ebony face caught the major’s eyes as she entered, crossed Operations to shake the admiral’s waiting hand. “How was Hashmal Station?”
“Boring, cold, full of bureaucrats and glaring examples of bad interior design.” The major grinned. “The usual.” Hands fell away, smiles fading under more serious expressions. “Any news from the front?”
“Boring, cold, full of Cygnans and glaring examples of our eventual defeat,” The admiral sighed, brushed a hand through sharp silver hair, traces of her grin coming back. “But other than that, no. It’s been remarkably quiet.”
“No news is good news, I suppose.” The major offered, glanced casually past the admiral at the viewer. “How soon until we get underway?”
“Moments.” The admiral turned, followed the major’s gaze. “The last of the supplies came onboard with you a few minutes ago. We’re just waiting for the go ahead on the drive and the cargo bays.”
“Eager to leave already, Tessa?”
The major turned toward the voice, caught the ready grin and dark amber eyes of Ben Dimitrov, flight captain and front right wingman for Freyja Squadron. Smiles widened, became open grins– within seconds, she was in his arms, lips rising to meet his excitedly, deeply, locking in a kiss that led hands to sides, ended with passionate exhales. When they finally broke apart again, hands moved reluctant, kept them connected, loosely locked together, unwilling to part.
“I missed you.” Dimitrov managed. The major closed her eyes, let her head rest on his shoulder.
“I was only gone for a few hours.” She grinned softly into his uniform, glanced back up at him again, finding his eyes in the smiling pause. “The real challenge is going to be the next three weeks.”
“Mmm.” He agreed, gently kissing her forehead. “I guess I’ll just have to get as much of you as I can before then.”
“You’d better.” She shot back, glancing over at Blavatsky and catching the silent amusement in the old admiral’s eyes, the soft edges of a smile playing across her lips even as she turned away, glanced in the direction of the officers that filled the front of Operations and the section of bulkhead dominated by the ship’s viewscreen.
“Weller, prime the drive.” She said quietly, gesturing loosely. “Stations are going to report back in eleven seconds.” Weaving fingers through the holographic display of his flight console, the young man nodded immediately, subtly.
“Ma’am.”
Blavatsky smiled again, briefly, then glanced at the chronometer that lay like a thin screen of plastic over her thumbnail, invisible and unobtrusive, quietly tracking the seconds. Five, four, three...
“Reactor Operations–” The comm officer spun back to face the admiral, mouth working silently in the pause as he traced a finger across the subdermal implant stretching across his jaw, triggering lights that came alive there, flickered with intermittent connection. “The pit and the core are clear. All systems green and nominal. We are clear to leave orbit and engage the degen-drive at the departure point.”
Blavatsky inclined her head in the slightest edge of a nod, turned back to the viewscreen. “Navigator, enter departure vector one eight niner by four five degrees.”
“Departure control...” The young man glanced back at her, grinned. “Just gave us that heading.”
“It still amazes me to watch her do that.” Dimitrov shook his head in awe. Blavatsky glanced at him again, offered another soft smile.
“There are only two or three Tier One Visionary Precogs that have been scouted in the entire population of the Commonwealth.” The major said softly. “We’re lucky to have one as an Admiral.”
“Kind of makes you wonder what she sees in our future.” He chuckled quietly. Blavatsky smiled again, turned away a little, almost as if she were trying to hide the curve that played across her lips, added kindness to her features.
“Take my advice and focus on the present.” She said quietly, then looked up again, pulling in a deep breath as she regarded the major and her captain softly, gently. “It’s better to enjoy the now than to know and worry about changing the future.”
“She’s... she’s right.” Tessa swallowed, nodded. “Being a VP, Sometimes you see things...” You see things like the death of a loved one, the destruction of a relationship, the brutal massacre of someone close to you. She closed her eyes, rubbed her cheek against Dimitrov’s shoulder. “Sometimes you see things that would have been better left unseen.”
“Like Izzy...” He breathed.
“Or Theo.” She countered softly. Dimitrov closed his eyes, breathed his own shaky, painful sigh. Tessa blinked, reached out, ran a hand gently across his back, caressed his shoulders carefully, silently. Blavatsky looked away, let her eyes find their way back to the stars, the silicon representation of space that hung in the frame of the viewscreen. The Navigator glanced back, gestured.
“We’ve reached the departure point.”
“Excellent.” The admiral offered another slight nod. “Set a course for Oridius, maximum bend for a silent run.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I’ve put the crew on light duties for the time being,” Blavatsky began, turning back to face the two lovers, offering them the traces of a grin. “And while that means the usual training and upkeep duties for pilots, I’m willing to wave those duties considering your upcoming surgery and three weeks in recovery.” She smiled, gestured lightly with her chin. “Get some rest, Major.”
“I appreciate the gesture, Admiral, but with all due respect, I don’t know how many of those three weeks the doctors on Oridius are planning on sticking me in a suspension tank.” She grinned, flexed her shoulders. “I’d rather get in some exercise now, stretch my muscles while I still have them.”
“Understandable, but don’t overdo it.” Blavatsky raised an eyebrow. “Doctor Radavich was very insistent that you be well rested before they start the procedure.”
“Doctors,” Tessa made a loose gesture. “They’re all the same. Drink plenty of fluids and get lots of rest.” She shook her head.
“He made it clear that if you weren’t well rested, you’d be spending another week in the suspension tanks before undergoing the implantation process.”
“Well, in that case, rest sounds good.” The major shook her head, offered the admiral a spunky grin before turning back to Dimitrov. “Come on, Ben.” She slugged his shoulder gently, playfully. “I need some time alone with that stress reliever you carry around in your pants.”
“Is that an order or a request, Major?” He grinned back.
“Does it matter?” Her own grin widened as she pushed herself up against him, tickled his neck with her breath. “It’s not like you’re gonna say no.”
Dimitrov closed his eyes, hands flexing eagerly.
“Am I really that predictable?” He grinned, eyebrows rising.
“Definitely.” She kissed him. “But that’s one of the things I like most about you.”