Honor Bound

“Well, I am going to be gone for several months,” he raised an eyebrow. “Gotta leave you something to remember me by…”

“How did I get stuck manning your desk while you have all the fun?” She beat a fist against his chest playfully. “You’re supposed to delegate this sort of thing to me.”

“I wanted to take you along,” he confessed. “But with Kage stirring up so much trouble, I thought I should leave someone with some sense of diplomacy here to deal with him.”

“Ha!” Shannon barked. “Me? Diplomatic? I’ve always thought of knocking people’s heads together as the best sort of diplomacy.”

“Hey,” McKay protested, “back during the war, you had to deal with a colonial governor, a senator and a president! And that turned out okay.” He sighed as he let her slip out of his arms. “You’re right though, I have to pack. The shuttle for the Decatur leaves in two hours.”

“The Decatur? Isn’t that Captain Minishimi’s new cruiser?” Joyce Minishimi had been one of the Fleet captains who had launched the final attack on the Russian Protectorate ships during the war, and with Arvid Patel, one of the two Captains to promote McKay to the overall commander of the assault, despite his then-inferior rank.

“Yeah, it was in port and between patrols, so I requested her. Haven’t seen much of her since the war.”

“Come on,” Shannon said, grabbing a robe from the bed and slipping it on. “Let me help you pack.’

* * *

Joyce Minishimi’s breath chuffed with effort as she kicked into a sprint, legs pumping, each stride landing perfectly as she came down the last quarter mile of the course. The beautiful Japanese red spruce, yew, gingko, and Yezo wild cherry trees passed by her faster and faster as she raced through Nakajima Park. She vaguely registered the other runners but didn’t bring them into focus; her focus was on the finish line. She felt as if she didn’t have even a hint of energy left, her legs felt as if they were on fire and she was fairly certain she’d developed a blister on her left big toe, but she gritted her teeth and kept her legs moving via force of will.

Then it was there, the finish line… with just one other female in front of her, only twenty yards ahead. Screaming hoarsely, Joyce threw herself forward, pushing past the other woman and crossing the finish line, then stumbling and nearly collapsing, limping painfully towards a table with water bottles, trying to catch her breath. She opened one and downed it in one gulp, then threw it down and snagged another before sinking to the grass.

“Did you really,” a voice asked from behind her, “run the whole Hokkaido marathon?”

She turned and saw a man in a black uniform walking towards her, seemingly out of nowhere. He was a young man, but with the look of experience, his brown hair cut short, grey eyes framed by a lean, strong-jawed face.

“I run it before every long patrol, McKay,” she nodded. “Hard to find time for this when we’re under way.” She looked up and spoke loudly and clearly. “Authorization Minishimi, simulator off.”

The image of the Hokkaido morning vanished, replaced by the bare walls of the RFS Decatur‘s simulator bay and the shifting treadmill that made up its floor. The only adornment in the room was the small plastic tray with water bottles and a few towels.

“You know,” she said, wiping the sweat from her neck and toweling down her short, dark hair, “when they started building this ship three years ago, I thought it was ridiculous to install a rotational drum just for recreational and medical use. After all, we spend most of the trip in the g-tanks anyway. But I have to admit, it’s handy having someplace to get a good workout at one gravity when we’re not using the drive.”

“You’re looking good, Joyce,” he told her, squatting down on the floor beside her. He smiled as she started. She hadn’t seen him in years and it took her a moment to remember that they were of equal rank: a Fleet Captain was equivalent to an Intelligence Service or Marine Colonel. “I thought I’d call you that while I still could,” he explained with a chuckle. “You’ll be an Admiral soon enough.”

“Knock on wood,” she banged her knuckles against the side of her head. “So, you’ve shanghaied my ship for a trip to the frontier… Jason. Care to tell me why?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he nodded, waving around him. “Here and not on the bridge, I mean. This is for your ears only, for the moment.”

“Oh you spooks and your secrets,” she laughed, a surprisingly girly sound from someone he knew to be tough as nails. “You’ve changed since the war,” she estimated, looking at him sideways. “You seem less… naive, somehow.”

“Five years dealing with politicians will do that to you,” he allowed. “But let’s cut to the chase. Antonov’s back.”

Her eyes widened and he saw her glance around instinctively to make sure no one had come into the room. “You’re sure?”

“An observation post was destroyed on the frontier. Looted, even the bodies stolen. They cleaned up after themselves but we found some brass cartridge casings. I don’t know who or what else it could be.”

“Well, you always thought it would happen eventually,” she shook her head, arms resting on her knees. “So, you’re going out there in person then? Isn’t that a bit risky?”

“Not as risky as missing something because I’m months away. I’m bringing Vinnie and his best Alpha Team with me, along with two platoons of Marines and half a dozen assault shuttles. Hell, if I could get approval, I’d take a couple more cruisers along. I don’t want to do this by half-measures.”

“Yeah, that was never one of your failings,” she snorted. “Jesus, Jason… I need to get my people ready. How long do you need a lid kept on this?”

“Till we’re out of the Solar system,” he told her. “I don’t want this news spreading to the general population until we know more. We have enough problems right now without adding a panic to them.”

“I can live with that.” She checked her watch. “We leave orbit in three hours and I need a shower. I’ll see you on the bridge… how about you come brief my officers just before we hit the g-tanks?”

“Works for me,” he nodded, standing and offering her a hand up. “See you on the bridge, Captain.”

* * *

Shannon was silent as she watched the mountain of nickel iron that was the RFS Decatur leave orbit. Reality warped away from the ship in shimmering waves of disrupted space-time and the ship began to move, slowly at first, almost imperceptibly… but then with increasing acceleration and within minutes it was little more than another star in the projection in the viewport on the wall of Jason’s office.

“Damn,” she muttered to herself. Then louder, “Dammit!” She thumped a fist against the wall. It wasn’t just that he was going to be gone for months and that she was going to miss him… and it wasn’t just that he was flying blind into what could be an incredibly dangerous situation. There was just a feeling in her gut that she couldn’t shake that there was something wrong about this. It felt like a trap.

The problem was, they couldn’t not investigate it… and if it was a trap, there was no one better than Jason to sniff it out. But she wished she could have been there.

“Major Stark?” A voice came over the room’s intercom.

“Yes, Lt. Franks?” she said, looking up instinctively.

“You have a call from Senator O’Keefe-Mulrooney.”

“Put her on,” Shannon said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Colonel McKay’s desk display.”

The holographic projector in McKay’s desk lit up and an image of Valerie O’Keefe-Mulrooney sprang to life. She looked good, Shannon reflected inwardly. Her brown hair was shorter than Shannon remembered, and there was a glow to her heart-shaped face. The last few years had added a look of maturity and responsibility to her green eyes.

“Hello, Senator,” she nodded.

“Good morning, Shannon,” Valerie said. Shannon supposed it must be morning wherever she was, because the phrase had little meaning on a space station like Fleet HQ. “How’ve you been?”

“Doing well,” Shannon said, trying to hide the loathing she had for meaningless pleasantries. What the hell had Jason been thinking leaving her in charge of dealing with people? “I can see motherhood agrees with you. I hope Glen and your daughter are doing well.”

“Natalia is great,” Valerie smiled warmly. “She’ll be two years old next week. Glen is doing fine, but… well, first of all, I need to know, is this a secure line?”