“So tell me your story,” she said. “Convince me.”
She left Colb an hour later, feeling indecisive. She’d promised to go talk to him the next day, after they returned to Dragonfire. He’d made a convincing argument for himself while spinning a story that fit with Krazinski’s supposed guilt. But she wasn’t buying it.
She usually loved head games, but not this time. Losing meant a lot more than a failed mission or her own death.
She wedged herself into her bunk and closed her eyes. She’d be taking the last shift on the bridge before their arrival at Dragonfire, so she’d need the few hours of sleep she could squeeze in.
Before they even arrived at the station, Fallon had instructed her security staff there to prepare for a protected guest. She told them nothing of who the guest was, or why that person needed protected status. She simply ensured that when Colb arrived, the team could usher him to a private holding cell with no witnesses or security feeds.
She had Peregrine and Hawk handle that transfer while she went to update Hesta on what had occurred. She didn’t resent the necessity of reporting to someone who was technically lower than her in the hierarchy, despite possessing a higher officer rank. Covert officers had elevated security ratings and didn’t typically take orders from anyone less than an admiral, unless maintaining a cover identity. But Fallon had always reported to someone, and this was Nevitt’s station.
Fallon hadn’t been on Dragonfire long when her comport alerted her to a message from Wren. Fallon would have to wait until after her shift to answer it. She didn’t have time for a personal call.
She went from one thing directly to the next, making sure Colb was secure, talking to her team, telling Raptor to search for clues about where they might find Krazinski and the rest of the PAC command. Then she attended to her job as security chief on the station. She got a status report from Arin, checked the station’s systems, and looked at the reports that had been filed during her absence.
All the while, she kept thinking about what Krazinski had said about putting her head to the ground. So far they hadn’t turned up any phrase matching, except for the colloquialism “keep your ear to the ground,” which meant to pay attention to everything around her, particularly what people were saying. Did he mean that things happening at Dragonfire had greater meaning than they seemed to? That she might be missing some clue? Or maybe that she should be paying more attention to the datastreams because something of significance was happening there? It was just too vague a clue.
In her security office, she did a thorough search of all trending topics on the public voicecom channels, but nothing seemed relevant to her situation. So far, no one had raised the alarm about Jamestown, which was a relief. She was sure PAC command had done all they could to reroute signals and discourage ships from the area, but it was only a matter of time before someone noticed things were not as they should be.
She pushed back from her desk and sent her chair into a slow spin. Closing her eyes to accommodate an epiphany did not cause one to arrive. A shame.
She checked the time. Already well past the end of her shift. Wren would probably be asleep by now. She sent a text-only message for Wren to find when she woke, apologizing for not getting back to her sooner and telling her to get in contact the next day.
Finally, she locked up her office and went to get some sleep. Her rest schedule had been inconsistent because of her shift rotation on the Nefarious, and she’d need a good long slumber to get herself recalibrated.
Maybe she’d come up with an answer in her dreams. But then she thought of the strange memory dreams she’d had during her amnesia, and she hoped any big revelations waited until she woke up.
As she was about to get into bed, her door chime sounded. She expected to see Raptor or Hawk, but the door opened to reveal Wren’s sparkling eyes and impish smile.
“Hi,” Fallon said, stepping back so Wren could enter.
“Aha, I surprised you. I like that.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. I just wanted to see you. You’ve been gone more than a week. But it looks like I might have woken you up. I can go.”
Wren had seen her in her lounge clothes before, so that didn’t bother Fallon. “It’s fine. Come in, have a seat.”
Once settled, Wren asked, “Did your trip go well?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“Right. Then…are you well?”
Fallon wasn’t sure how to answer that. “All systems functioning.”
Wren smiled. “That’s good to hear. Actually, that’s probably the ideal answer to that question, when the person doing the asking is a mechanic.”
“Fix anything fun while I was gone?”
“No, only the usual. Scheduled maintenance, a burned-out coil pack here and there from reckless use. Nothing interesting.”
Fallon racked her brain for something else to say. “At least Endra’s on board for you to hang out with.”
“Yes. She told me they were making this their home port, which works great for me. They’re preparing to leave for a distress call, though.”
Fallon frowned. “Yes. Captain Nevitt told me about that.”
A small cruiser had encountered some trouble, and the hospi-ship was the best-equipped vessel in the area to make sure the occupants got the care they needed. They’d also be able to tow the ship back, if needed. Such emergencies were common out in the void of space. The cruiser was lucky to have a hospi-ship in such proximity.
“I hope the crew’s okay.”
“Me too.”
Wren stood. “I should let you get to sleep. You must be tired.”
Fallon’s goodbye before her departure to PAC command went unmentioned, but she knew Wren had to be wondering about it.
“I’m glad you came
