In Her Name

Jodi was never so glad to get off of a ship as she was to leave the Aboukir’s cutter. While the crew was a good one and the ship was fast, the voyage to Ekaterina III had taken what had seemed like forever. The fact that Jodi had not been allowed by the cutter’s captain to get any cockpit time had not helped.

But thoughts of the cutter – indeed of the last few months – faded with every step she took toward Berth 12A, where Hood was tied up for repairs in Ekaterina’s huge orbital shipyards. While Jodi had been sorely tempted to take one of the shuttles, she decided to stretch her legs after being so cramped in the cutter. It was worth the hour-long walk to get back to the ship.

At long last, there she was: C.S.S. Hood. The shipwrights of Trivandrum had built more than legendary striking power into their metal leviathan. The Hood, among humanity’s most powerful warships, was also a beauty to the eye. Unlike many of her sister ships-of-the-line, she was not a collection of angular plates and protrusions that gave so many vessels an insectile appearance. Hood was a collection of finely modeled curves, streamlined and sleek, as if her destiny was to navigate through some terrestrial ocean as had her namesake centuries before. But in that beauty also lay strength, both in the armor that made up her thick protective hide and the weapons that bristled from her hull like the thorns of a rose.

But her last battle had severely tried her strength, as the carbonized craters and streaks, the breached hangar deck and ruptured gangway hatch attested. Most of her damage had already been patched, but there would be some ugly scars that would endure with the ship until her retirement by age or by fire.

You’re still a tough old bitch, Jodi thought admiringly.

Pausing on the ramp just before reaching the new gangway hatch, Jodi snapped a salute to the Confederation flag suspended nearly a kilometer away on Hood’s stern, before stepping up to the ensign who was the officer of the watch and rendering the same courtesy. “Lieutenant Mackenzie, reporting aboard.”

The young woman’s eyes lit up as she returned the salute. “Yes, ma’am,” she said cordially. “Welcome back. The captain pays his respects, and will see you when he returns from shore leave.”

“Thanks, ensign.” As Jodi made her way over the decks she had come to know so well, greeting the few members of the crew who were not on rotation down to the planet surface, her excitement began to build. The sounds and smells of the great ship, the thrum that she knew was there but could not quite hear: all the many things that made the ship a living thing. It was her home.

There was a moment, just a tiny fraction of a second, as she was approaching her destination that she was afraid, terrified, that one tiny thing might have changed. Holding her breath, she approached the door and read the names on the assignment placard. There were two. One was hers. The other was…

Jodi burst through the door, knowing that her roommate and commander would be there. She always was.

“I’m back!” she shouted like a giddy teenage girl who had just been asked to the prom by the most sought- after male – or female, as the case might be – in school.

The woman inside, dressed in her duty fatigues, practically fell out of the chair where she had been writing performance evaluations of her pilots.

“Jodi!” her commander cried as she fell into Jodi’s embrace. “Mon Dieu, I was so worried about you! Are you all right?”

“Yes, Nikki,” Jodi said, “I’m okay. Oh, God, am I glad to be back.”

Later, there would be many stories exchanged for the time they had been away from one another. But for now, Nicole Carre was content to hold her only real friend tightly, both of them crying tears of relief that the other was still alive and, for the moment, out of harm’s way.

* * *

Ekaterina III boasted one of the strongest military forces in the human sphere, both in terms of its ground forces and the naval squadrons patrolling her system, guarding the enormous orbital shipyards. If there was a safe place in the known human galaxy, with the possible exception of Earth itself, it was here.

And that was how Jodi felt now. Safe, content. She was still riding an emotional roller coaster that alternated between the exhausted depression of the furious fighting she had seen on Rutan and the hyperventilated feeling of knowing she was back with the woman she loved. The fact that her love was unrequited, that Nicole Carre had long ago made it clear that she could never be more than a close friend, did not – and never had – been an obstacle for Jodi’s tacit affection. It was enough to know that Nicole cared, loving Jodi as a friend. That they had never shared a passionate moment together was something Jodi had decided she could live with. The physical expressions of her love for Nicole were discretely diverted toward others who were more than happy to receive them, and who willingly did their best to satisfy Jodi’s needs in return.

As for Nicole, Jodi knew that she had been with men on a few rare occasions, but nothing had ever come of any of these relationships. Nicole’s life was her job, and Jodi doubted that there was anyone in the Fleet who did it better: Nicole Carre lived and breathed fighters. Living so long in such a lethal profession was beyond the ability of all but a very few. Nicole Carre was among them. Her mastery of technique and relentless aggression in the cockpit had quickly earned her commander’s stripes and a squadron command, and she was now on the verge of putting on another stripe and taking over Hood’s entire wing. Her cold demeanor had earned her the call sign Ice Queen since early on in flight training. But Jodi knew there was more, much more, beneath the flawless porcelain skin of her commander.

Nicole’s professional and personal aloofness gave Jodi a certain sense of security, the feeling that she would always be the one to whom Nicole would turn in times of need. And so it had been for the years they had known each other. Jodi, her own flying skills having proven quite lethal to the enemy, had sacrificed promotions and choice assignments to stay with Nicole. Jodi obstinately refused her friend’s pleas – and several direct orders – to take her own command and develop her career, and at last Nicole had given up after Jodi had laid her heart bare. It was then that Nicole fully realized how dependent she was on Jodi for support, lover or not; Nicole could not deny the fact that she herself was only human, and needed someone by her side. That someone just happened to be Jodi Mackenzie.

Still, Jodi could not help but be sad for her friend. She needed love just as a flower needs the light of the sun, but would never find it. As much as she wanted Nicole for herself, she would have been happy to see someone sweep her off her feet, to love her like Jodi would have loved to. That was the measure of Jodi’s love.

“Jodi, what is wrong?”

Nicole’s question caught her off guard. “Nothing,” Jodi said, pushing away the thoughts of what could never be. “I… I was just thinking how good dinner was.” She smiled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had food like this.” She laughed nervously. “It’ll probably make me barf.”

“Do not be silly,” Nicole said, letting Jodi’s white lie pass for the time being. She knew that if something was bothering her, she would speak up about it sooner or later. Fishing for a little humor to brighten up her friend, Nicole made a theater out of looking over their plates, at the devastated remains of an authentic lobster dinner that had cost Nicole half a month’s pay in the best restaurant in the port. It had been worth every credit, both for the food itself and to help welcome Jodi home. “The day you become sick from good food is the day the goat becomes the gourmet, oui?” Leaning forward, she took one of Jodi’s hands in hers. “I am glad you are back, my friend.”

“Me, too,” Jodi rasped. She was afraid that she would break down and start bawling with joy. She squeezed Nicole’s hand tightly.

Nicole smiled. She so much wished that Jodi would find someone she could be truly happy with, for she had so much to give. But Nicole knew that this was not going to happen any time soon; Jodi had made that quite clear. Sitting across from her, Nicole was painfully aware just how attractive Jodi was to the people around her. From surreptitious glances to unabashed stares, easily a dozen people close by were more than casually interested in her friend. If only…

But it was not to be. Not yet, anyway. Jodi was content with the way things were and, as fate would have it, so was Nicole. They were a good team.

“Jodi,” Nicole asked, “what is that?” She had seen a strange bit of jewelry hanging from Jodi’s neck that she had not noticed before. It looked like nothing more than a loop of twine or very fine rope cascading down into her ample cleavage.

“Oh,” Jodi said. “It’s a gift from someone I met on Rutan.” She looked sheepish as she held up the small wooden crucifix that Hernandez had given her.