Duty, Honor, Planet

weapons?”

“We’ve all been through Colonel Mellanby’s training course,” Lieutenant Stark confirmed.

“Good. That’s it for now. I know you’re all the best or you wouldn’t be here, so I’m counting on your support. I’ll see you all in the g-sleep chambers.” He saluted and the enlisted returned it before heading for the door. “If you’d wait for a moment, Lieutenant,” he asked Stark as she was moving to leave.

He waited till the others had made their way out, then turned back to the woman.

“Lieutenant Stark,” he began hesitantly, “did the Snake—I mean, Colonel Mellanby—recruit each of you personally?”

“As far as I know,” she replied, regarding him evenly, with something of an air of evaluation.

“Did he mention anything to you about his real reason for forming this team?”

“He did say something about an idea to recreate an organization similar to the old special operations forces,” she confirmed with the briefest of hesitations.

“What do you think of the team?” He cast a meaningful glance at the door.

“I only had a few minutes with them when we arrived on board.” She shrugged. “First impressions? Mahoney seems like the best of the bunch. He seems to have natural leadership, and from the brief look I got at his personnel file”—She had personnel files, McKay thought to himself with more than a bit of envy—“he scored highly in the training. He and the big fellow are both ex-Corps. Gregory’s competent, and he’s an expert at almost every weapon made. He’ll always be a follower, though.”

“What about Crossman?” Jason asked directly. “He doesn’t seem to be the type Colonel Mellanby would pick.”

“He’s had some discipline problems,” she admitted. “And, to be frank, he seems to be a gigantic pain in the ass. But he’s a fifth degree black belt in Tae Kwan Do, and he’s put four separate unarmed combat instructors in the hospital.”

“No shit,” McKay blurted, shooting a glance at the door, and the path Crossman had taken out of the room. “Well, I guess the Snake knows what he’s doing, as always. Anyway, a couple things. First, I want you to meet me outside my cabin at 1700 hours to go have a talk with Ms. O’Keefe about security. Second, call me Jason, okay? It’d get pretty confusing with all those ‘Lieutenant’s’ flying around.”

“All right, Jason.” She smiled, and McKay could have sworn the room brightened visibly. “I’m Shannon.”

“I look forward to working with you, Shannon,” he said. “Feel free to share any ideas you might have about the structure of the team.”

She cocked an eyebrow as she shoved off toward the door. “Well, I already have one idea.”

“Yes?” he encouraged, eyes following her as she moved into the hall.

A marvelously mischievous grin darted across her face as she hung in the doorway, only her face still visible, like a childhood image of the Cheshire cat.

“I think I should be in charge.”

And then she was gone.

McKay stared after her for a long moment, speechless.

“Damn.” he finally whispered. This, he thought, was going to be interesting.

* * *

“Wish they had passenger ships to the star colonies,” Mulrooney complained, unpacking his suitcase in the tiny cabin he and Valerie were to share. “Kind of takes the romance out of it, hitching a ride on a Goddamned warship.”

“We’re not on a pleasure cruise, Glen,” Val reminded him softly, stuffing clothes into a locker. There was no use folding them in zero gravity. “It was either this or a freighter—colony ships don’t do ‘grand tours.’”

“Just because we’re working”—Glen kicked off from the wall on his side of the bed and spun in mid-air to hang upside down over her—“doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

He wrapped his arms around her from behind and began playfully exploring with them while he nuzzled at her neck.

“Glen,” she sighed in exasperation. “Will you try to control yourself? That Lieutenant McKay person’s going to be here any minute.”

“Let him get his own girl,” Glen said with a laugh, working at the fasteners on her blouse.

“Glen!” Valerie protested, but only half-heartedly.

But the moment was interrupted by the chime of the door intercom. Glen sighed and let Val go, floating sullenly back across the room. Valerie hastily refastened her shirt and kicked off toward the door.

“Yes?” She hit the door’s speaker button.

“Ms. O’Keefe?” A male voice answered. “It’s Lieutenant McKay.”

“Come in.” Val pressed a palm to the lock and the door obediently slid aside, allowing Jason and Shannon to propel themselves into the cabin.

“Hello, Ms. O’Keefe.” Jason extended a hand. “I’m Lieutenant Jason McKay, and I’ll be in charge of your security escort.”

“A pleasure,” she returned.

“This is Lieutenant Shannon Stark, my second-in-command.” Shannon moved up to grasp the woman’s hand.

“This is my fiance, Glen Mulrooney,” Val said, motioning to Glen.

“Expecting trouble, McKay?” The Senator’s aide raised an eyebrow, nodding towards Jason’s sidearm.

“It’s my job to expect trouble, Mr. Mulrooney,” Jason fired back, trying to suppress a laugh at the campy line. Had to hold up that Intelligence image.

“Just what can I do for you, Lieutenant?” Val asked abruptly.

“I need to review a couple of items on your schedule,” Jason told her. “Specifically, the meeting you have with the Farmer’s Independent Council the first day. You have it scheduled for…” he snuck a look at the notes on his wristcomp, “1930 hours, local. That’s only three hours after our arrival, which doesn’t give my team enough time to secure the meeting hall. If you could delay it for another couple of hours…”

O’Keefe shook her head. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lieutenant. That schedule was delivered by a message on a cargo ship over a month ago—there’s no way to reschedule it in time.”

“Ms. O’Keefe,” Jason protested, “we can’t insure your safety if you don’t cooperate with us in matters like this. Surely you can see…”

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to deal with it,” she declared.

“Ma’am,” Jason insisted, beginning to become a bit irritated, “my having to ‘just deal with it’ might result in not only your death but my people getting killed as well.”

“Look, McKay,” Glen interjected, moving between Val and Jason, “we’re both sick and tired of paranoid military fantasies. First it was those so-called ‘ship attacks,’ and now this bullshit! Why don’t you Fleet bully boys stop whining and do your jobs?”

“If you politicians would allow us to do our jobs…” McKay’s voice rose.

“Gentlemen, please!” Val put a hand on each of their arms. “This isn’t the time or the place for a political argument. Lieutenant McKay, I will attempt to contact the Council once we’re insystem and, if it is workable for them, I’ll try to delay the meeting. Is that satisfactory?”

“Thank you.” McKay took a deep breath, trying to relax.

“But from now on, I would appreciate if you would coordinate all security measures with Mr. Tanaka, my personal bodyguard.”

“Sure thing.” Jason smiled frostily. “I trust we’ll have a good working relationship. Ms. O’Keefe, I’ll leave you to get moved in here. Mr. Mulrooney, I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I’d like to say that, but I can’t.”

With that, McKay and Stark exited the room, leaving Glen with his mouth hanging open.

“‘It’s my job to expect trouble?’” Shannon repeated with a chuckle, cocking an eye at him as they propelled themselves down the corridor.

“Sorry,” Jason said. “I just couldn’t resist.”