Chapter Twelve
Even Bolarks Fail
Vivra was headed to the other side of the hangar to speak with Sands about his transfers.
She stopped walking when she saw movement to her left, not sure she saw correctly. Pax and the Cerebral were walking a Bolark to the elevators. The door closed, and she was positive that the Bolark was Sol. The one who’d looked like his life was crumbling as she told him to go back to his seat. Seth of Stars, Vivra had hated saying it. She also hated having to stand up for Pax. That was…until she turned Haak away. Haak was a tarq.
Another reason she was so upset with Pax. She’d expected him to know better. To realize there were bad ones in every race. Even Rannn could confirm that Yukins were not without their bastards.
And Pax thought he could just say that she smelled good and have it excuse his reaction to her race? Not likely. He couldn’t speak nicely to her one minute and tear down her culture in the next. She may not be on her homeworld, or ever plan to go back, but her family was there, and she loved them despite them holding a grudge against her. And Pax acted as if he would hate them out of principle.
Vivra let the memories of how passionate he’d been with her fall away. She was done with him. Finished with his immature and racist nature.
Sands’ voice next to her made her jump. She hadn’t even realized that she wasn’t alone anymore. “Looking for me?”
Sands’ cybernetic hand reached out and grabbed her before she fell backwards. It was cold, but the grip didn’t hurt. She didn’t know why she’d assumed it would, but it was comforting to confirm that his metal hand could be gentle.
He took out a blue rag from his back pocket and handed it to her. She checked her arm and saw a small, black smudge. The white jacket would need to be washed. If it didn’t come out, she would order herself a new one. Waving her hand, she said, “It’s nothing, it’s just a jacket.”
Taking a half second to find the right screen on her Minky, she held it out to him. “Your transfer didn’t come in. There was an error. Not sure what happened, but I’ll be making another call for you when I get back to my office.”
Sands’ dark eyebrow rose. “I cancelled them. My team of three is making it work,” he said.
“Engineering protocol states a minimum number of crew to run the ship properly. You will need at least fifty to be operational, and when we are fully staffed, you will have around ninety workers. Three won’t cut it.”
Sands scratched his temple. “We don’t need them, but if you want to order more people, I can’t stop you. I can only cancel the orders like I did last time.”
How did he get into her logistics system? Was it really so easy to hack?
“Are you telling me that you and your two crew members are able to hold up all the issues this ship has?” She wanted him to lie to her. To say “yes” and that the ship had no problems when she knew it did. It had its faults like any other ship. And if the cyborg pretended otherwise, she would know that he was a lousy head of engineering and she would report it.
Sands looked at her as if he knew what she was thinking. Then he pointed to a cargo transporter that was the only ship large enough for the fish tanks and able to fly with a single pilot. It was clean, and the Federation logo’s squares stood out. The ship stern was tagged 806. “Your ship’s ready to go as soon as Garna gets within range.”
She hooked a hand on her hip. “You’re just going to ignore that you don’t have anyone in ecosystems? You have one person in aquaponics that’s currently in a lab outside the ship? How exactly are you running all your division in engineering with three people?” Engineering was a unique division. Engineering encompassed ship maintenance, the engines, the ecosystem, hydro and aquaponics. It was the second largest division on the ship. Before the Eldon disease engineering had two-hundred and forty crew members.
Sands’ eyes narrowed. “How about you do your job and let me do mine. And until something comes up past-due, then you’ll have room to act as if I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not saying you don’t know how to do your job—"
“Yes, you are.” He cut her off and then pointed at her Minky. “And you’re being pinged.”
Her Minky chimed a half-second later. She lifted the pad slowly and read the message from the captain: Captain’s conference room. Now.
She didn’t bother with a goodbye. Sands was already walking away. Tucking the pad into her pocket, she rushed a quarter-mile back to the main elevator, almost excited to receive the captain’s latest information.
***
She was breathing hard when she exited on the captain’s level and walked into the room. “And who did he contact?” the captain asked calmly.
The Cerebral answered, “Admiral Armsono.”
Rannn saw her walk in but didn’t greet her. It wasn’t until Pax looked at her and waved that she noticed a male Bolark sitting at the end of the table. Sol.
“Vivra.” The captain’s gaze landed on her. “When you put in the paperwork for the transfers, did you tell the medical staff to have everyone fitted with cerebral blockers? I remember telling you that all the new transfers had to have them.”
She thought briefly but trusted herself enough to answer in less than half a second. “It was a requirement for all transfers.”
“Then why does no one have a cerebral blocker? The entire group of transfers…not one has been outfitted.”
Vivra didn’t know why the transfers didn’t have blockers. “I can find out.”
Then Rannn pointed at the names listed on the Minky table. “It’s too late now. Sci’s already connected with their thoughts, and I’ve breached my honor contract with Admiral Orin. Not to mention, three of the new transfers have contacted Admiral Armsono with concerns about the violation of privacy with having a Cerebral on board.”
Vivra didn’t cower. She wouldn’t have missed something like that. She, of course, would double-check when she got back to her desk, but she was smart enough not to argue with the captain.
“If the requirements were ignored by the applicant, it’s outside my control. Medical would have to sign off on it before they left their previous station, so they would be to blame.”
The doors opened, and Clalls moved swiftly into the room without looking at anyone. Stopping at the Minky table, he entered his codes and brought up another image. Garna’s transfer documents. Specifically, the ones that had just arrived. He took his fingers and zoomed in. Vivra scanned the section quickly and nowhere did it say that a cerebral blocker was required. Then Clalls looked at her with pity and backed up as the captain moved in to get a better look.
His lips pressed together as he scanned the document.
Vivra knew what the captain was looking for, and what he wouldn’t find. The required words about the transfers’ new duty station coming into contact with a Cerebral had never made it to the comment section.
Her stomach curled into knots, and she desperately tried to remember the requirements and when everything had been entered, but her mind was unable to think back, it was stuck in the present moment. Yunkins didn’t suffer liars. And they didn’t recover well when errors had an effect on them. And if Vivra’s actions—or seeming non-actions—had accidentally affected his honor contract, he was sure to take it out on her.
Captain Rannn’s voice was without emotion and cold as ice when he said, “Sol is staying on Pax’s crew. Check him in, update his information. And show him out.”
***
Vivra didn’t say goodbye when she left. Her mind was spinning, trying to remember if she added the addendum to the transfer requirements. Her throat was tight, but she ignored it. She wasn’t going to let her emotions bubble up and make her do anything stupid. Like cry.
She showed Sol where to pick up his Minky and then didn’t say another word as she checked him in and assigned him a berthing room on level three.
Back on level six, she walked calmly out of the elevator and into her office. Once there, she knelt down to check her duplicate copies that she kept in a separate file, the one she’d created just in case someone messed with her digital documents. Specifically, Clalls.
The Demon was a master at getting into others’ files. He had done just that seconds ago when he showed the captain the transfer documents. She wasn’t as pissed off at him as she probably should be.
The first time he’d done it, she’d filed a report about Clalls breaking into her personal files. She routed it past the captain and straight to Admiral Orin. When it got back to the captain, they’d cut her off and only spoke to her in monosyllables. Any orders she received were routed through her Minky. She had been alienated for years. Now, it had been less than a week with the new crew, and Clalls had done it again.
Privacy was a façade. The Federation had access to everything watched, written, and communicated. Honestly, the Cerebral being able to hear your thoughts wasn’t a big step away from the ultimate control the Federation had.
Next to her secure file, she kept the ship’s archives. She entered in her password and pulled up the transfer paperwork. Nowhere in the requirements was there a word about the Cerebral.
She really had failed.
She cursed as she smashed her finger against the wall. She hoped that she was wrong. Failure was not in her character. It was not like her.
Pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she rubbed out the sting.
Focus. Focus on what needs to be done. She wasn’t going to give herself any excuses. What was done, was done. All she could do now was work harder to make sure she didn’t make such a simple error again. There were going to be consequences for this one, and she would deal with whatever happened. Until then, she could work.
She wiped down her outfit, brushed back her hair, and applied a bit of gloss before she walked up to her circular desk. She tapped her profile and unlocked the system. She had a ship to fill. More transfers to make. And they were going to need another mechanic, a good one. One that Sands wouldn’t know was coming until they were already here. She was a professional, not someone who wasted her time thinking about her mistakes.
Although she did wonder when the captain would walk through the door and tell her how bad her error was and how much she’d screwed up. If he sent it in a Minky message, she would know where she stood.
She was not stupid, she knew she’d messed up. No matter, though, she couldn’t fix it now. Either the captain would accept that, or he would dwell on it. Regardless, she was going to find out soon what kind of leader Rannn was when it came to his crew and their punishments. Because she had no doubt that he would be by her office sometime soon to reprimand her.
***
Her shift had been over for a few hours, but she didn’t want to go back to her room. She didn’t want to chance running into Clalls. She wasn’t ready to speak to anyone. When the door opened, and the captain walked in, she felt her stomach tighten with nervousness.
Rannn looked around slowly, “I’ve never really liked Bolarks. Even though I’ve had to work with them, I never trust them.” He pulled his hands behind his back while standing with his legs apart. Vivra stopped typing and cross-checking her orders. She swiveled from behind the three-hundred-sixty-degree desk then stepped down to the floor and walked over to stand in front of him.
She wasn’t going to hide. She wasn’t going to look weak. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to beg for forgiveness. It was only an error.
The Yunkin was several inches taller than her, but with her wedge boots, she was almost his height. The captain was thicker, wider, and the scar that ran from his scalp to this cheek looked more intimidating than ever before.
“But I trusted you. Your error will have consequences.” His words were softer than she’d expected.
She felt them cut into her chest. If she let her emotions rise, she would show weakness. She was stronger than that. She was a survivor. She swallowed, ready for Rannn’s next words. Ready for the next cut.
“I didn’t want this ship. Especially after I found out what had happened at Eldon. But it wasn’t until I got here that I figured out why Admiral Orin assigned me to this nightmare.”
Vivra didn’t flinch when he called her ship a nightmare. But she did feel her shoulders roll back.
“Admiral Orin is smart, and he knows that if anyone is going to do the hard jobs and do them well, it’s me and my crew.” The captain didn’t stop there. “My elite crew will go above and beyond what’s required of them. They work harder, smarter, and they have skills that set them apart.”
He was rubbing in her mistake. How very Yunkin of him.
“They also don’t lie to me.”
Her body, usually cold, felt warmer. “I never lied to you,” she said with commanding force.
Captain Rannn nodded once. “No, you didn’t. But you were incorrect and uninformed, and that’s almost as bad as lying.”
She wanted to look away. “It’s not the same.”
“No, it’s not. One is malicious, and one is an accident. I came down here to tell you face-to-face that I can’t have any more accidents from you. If it happens, I will have you demoted and transferred to a planet-side station.”
Vivra’s eyes never left him. A planet-side station was simple and mundane. Nothing happened, and nothing was gained. No one moved up because there was no way to show you could do more, handle more. Advancement was almost unheard of. It was a strong punishment. Not one she felt she deserved, but his warning did what he’d intended. She would never make the same mistake.
The captain continued. “Some Bolarks are professional liars. When I asked you about the report, you answered, sure of your work. I believed you. Then, I saw for myself that you messed up, and I doubted you. Doubted your value, your honor, and my instinctual trust. But it wasn’t until you left and came here to get right back to work that I knew. It was an accident.”
A rotten, prickly knot started rising in her throat. Several long moments dragged by in silence. Rannn kept his eyes on her. “This is my only warning.”
Her breath came out staccato as she nodded.
“Good. Now, put in a request for a logistics underling to take care of all the unimportant tasks you have since I’ll be putting more important responsibilities on your shoulders.”
Did he doubt her ability?
“I see that look, and I’m not doubting you. I’m asking you to offload the extra work, especially the tasks where you spend hours checking the orders and transfers that come in.”
“I’m not afraid of transfers getting mouthy with me.”
Without missing a beat, the captain responded. “I’m not either. But I need you focused on my goals and our mission rather than the daily things that someone else can do.”
Vivra enjoyed his words. Even though she still felt like she was being handled, she liked that he valued her enough to keep her from doing the monotonous tasks.
Good vibes burst through her, knowing that she was not off the team. “Just so you know, I could easily do both. I’m the best there is. Even at my worst, I’m still better than any other logistics officer in the Federation. And you can fact-check me on that.”
The side of Rannn’s lips curled slightly. “It’s funny you say that. Clalls said the same thing.”