Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 1 (continued)

She stabbed at the intercom control.

“Engineering,” she shouted over the noise. “What the hell happened?”

Chief Engineer Rayna’s voice crackled over the speaker. “One moment, Cap’n,” he said. “We're still trying to figure it out.”

Devereux frowned at the report, but knew better than to press the Chief for information that he did not have. She stepped down from the command deck and approached the main navigation station. The ensign seated there did not turn at her approach. The young officer’s russet-colored pelt visible above the collar of his uniform was ruffled, but his vulpine ears remained erect.

“We're where we're supposed to be, Captain,” he reported, his elongated jaw structure drawing out the sounds of the r’s. He worked at the console controls for a moment. “Standard propulsion systems are all working,” he continued, “but the slipstream drive seems to be offline.”

Devereux turned to face the stations on the other side of the bridge.

Emerald Flight: “Past Imperfect” – Chapter 1

The ship slammed out of slipstream. Devereux was not sure how she had prevented herself from being flung to the deck, but she had somehow managed the feat. The ship had stopped shuddering. She mentally forced herself to pry her fingers from the arms of her chair. They felt cramped from the strain as their grip was eased.

The glowing pinpoints of emergency lighting cast harsh shadows around the bridge where they penetrated. Nearly all of the stations were dark. Sharp-lined silhouettes moved among the shadows, but Devereux was not certain which crew members they represented. Fortunately absent was the glow of fires or electrical flares.

She was about to call out when she the main lighting returned at nearly its normal brightness. A quick glance around told Devereux that no one among her bridge crew seemed seriously injured. The ensign standing near one of the sensor stations rubbed absently at her hip, but did not appear to be suffering serious discomfort.

Emerald Flight: Departures

Context: This scene takes place around the middle of the first story in what I’m calling “Season Two”. Devereux has returned to Earth to take care of her terminally ill father.

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“Just rest, dad,” Devereux said, beginning to rise from the chair. She ignored the stiffness in her legs and spreading numbness in her buttocks. “I’ll bring you a sandwich.”

“Not hungry yet.”

Devereux gave her father a quick smile. “Maybe I am.” Her expression grew more serious. “And you do need to eat too.”

The old man nodded weakly. His eyes returned to gaze upward. Again, Devereux wished she could have a skylight installed so he might have more to observe than the lightly textured surface of the ceiling. Maybe next week, she told herself. She did not allow herself the belief that next week might be too late.

“Aye,” he whispered. His voice was barely more than a breath, “Captain.” Devereux thought she spied the faintest hint of a smile on her father’s lips. His eyes closed and he seemed to sigh.

After a moment, Devereux realized that his next breath did not come. Her father’s features relaxed, freed from all of the pain he had ever endured. Devereux reached over and took his hand.

“Dad . . .” she whispered.

She did not know how long she remained there, her father’s hand resting in her own. After a time, though, a faint footfall penetrated her consciousness. She turned her head and looked toward the doorway.

Sarah stood there. Her dark eyes moved toward the still figure of the old man and then to Devereux.

“How long ago?” she asked softly.

“I’m not sure,” Devereux replied quietly, shaking her head slowly as if to clear it. “Not long, I think.”

Sarah did not enter the room. “Take all the time you need, Christine,” she said, and moved back into the shadows of the hallway beyond. Devereux heard her speaking softly in her phone as she stepped away.

Emerald Flight: Morning Shift

Context: This is the opening scene for one of the stories in my Emerald Flight series. I have no idea right now which one, though.

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Devereux walked the corridor at a steady pace, moving quickly without rushing. She had plenty of time before the shift began, using the time to gather her thoughts and build a mental agenda for the day. Tucked between her arm and body was her personal tablet. She could have recorded her thoughts there, but numerous collisions and near-misses with both bulkheads and personnel had finally taught her not to attempt it while walking.

Although the distinction between day and night was a slippery concept at best aboard a starship, she still felt an air of crisp expectancy as she moved along the passageway. There was no sunrise, no hint of dew, but—at least in her mind—there was an indefinable something that said to her that it was the fresh start to a new day.

It took Devereux a moment to register that someone now strode beside her. She glanced over, immediately recognizing Elizabeth. Devereux fought back a small smile. She noted how the young lieutenant's stride faltered for a moment, as if she were unsure whether to match pace with her commanding officer, continue past, or fall in behind her. She decided to aid the young woman in her indecision.

"Good morning, Lieutenant."

Elizabeth seemed to take the greeting as an invitation and adjusted her pace to walk beside Devereux. The young officer’s face lit up. "Good morning, Captain."

“Busy day ahead for you?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Some of her earlier enthusiasm faded and her voice took on a much more sober tone. “I’m working a shift in Engineering.”

Devereux nodded slowly in return and gave Elizabeth what she hoped was a mildly reassuring smile. “Good,” she said. “Someone needs to keep an eye on my Chief Engineer.”

Elizabeth’s eyes fixed on her for a moment in a way that disquieted Devereux. She quickly analyzed what she had said but could find no cause for such a reaction.

“Yes, Captain,” Elizabeth responded after a moment. Her face lost nearly all expression as she looked away.

They now walked together in silence. Devereux considered what to say. Something had gone awry in their seemingly casual conversation and she did not want the day to begin on such an awkward note—for either of them.

Devereux lifted his tablet, activating its display as she did so. “A piece of career advice, Lieutenant?”

Elizabeth’s response was delayed and hesitant. “Yes, Captain?”

“When you’re promoted and offered a command of your own,” Devereux said. “Think about it long and hard.”

Elizabeth’s features creased into a frown. “Yes, ma’am.”

Devereux allowed her lips to form a repressed smile. “It’s not the invading aliens that’ll get you,” she cautioned. “It’s the paperwork.”

Elizabeth stared at Devereux for a moment with something akin to disbelief. A moment later, she relaxed and let out of quiet, but genuine, laugh.

“Yes, Captain,” she said, smiling now. “I’ll remember that.”

Devereux smiled back to the young woman, relieved that the disquieting moment seemed to have passed. “See that you do.”

The pair reached the junction of two intersecting passageways.

“Have a good shift, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Captain,” the young officer said. “You too.” She turned with a smile and headed down the port passageway that led to the main Engineering deck.

Devereux watched Elizabeth go, allowing herself a small smile of her own. It wasn’t really that long ago, was it?