Emerald Flight: Season Two: Elizabeth

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant Commander?”

Elizabeth shifted awkwardly, staring down at the orders in her hand. She could not convince herself that she was dreaming, but neither could they possibly be real.

“Lieutenant Commander?” Admiral Adamson repeated.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks flush and her ears buzz. “Um, sir,” she managed to get out. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Adamson nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s face. “Granted.”

“Sir,” she started again, trying to keep her voice steady. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

Elizabeth was not at all certain, but she thought she saw a small glint of amusement in the Admiral’s eyes.

So help me, Pyr . . . if this is one of your jokes, I’ll turn you into a hairless cat. She took some comfort in her belief that participation in one of her crewmate’s pranks would probably not include an officer of Adamson’s high rank.

Adamson looked down at his desk display. “You are Banks, Elizabeth R.?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ve served on the Emerald Flight and the Washington?”

“Yes, sir,” she answered more confidently.

To her knowledge, there had not been another officer on either of those ships with her name. There had been two other Elizabeth’s on the Washington, but there was no way that either her last name or service record could have been confused with one of theirs.

“According to this,” he went on, gesturing toward the screen, “the commanding officer didn’t want a First Officer with only the rank of Lieutenant, but specifically wanted you. You had the points and recommendations, so . . .”

Recommendations? From who? Certainly from no one on the Washington. Maybe Captain Devereux, before she . . .

Elizabeth nearly froze as the rest of the Admiral’s words sank in.

First Officer? She encouraged herself to keep breathing. This has to be a mistake.

“Are you listening to me, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Yes, sir!” she returned sharply, feeling her cheeks flush at her lapse.

Adamson eyed her skeptically for a moment. “Do you feel that you’re not up to the job?”

Elizabeth found herself unable to speak. She willed herself to, but her throat and mouth refused to cooperate.

Relax. Take easy. Real easy.

She straightened, feeling her body relax despite the more rigid posture.

“I will do the job to the best of my ability,” she responded, feeling once again like a cadet under inspection. “Sir.” She amended quickly, feeling her cheeks grow warm again.

Adamson gave her a small smile, clearly amused. All Elizabeth wanted to do was to leave before she managed to commit any more breaches of protocol.

“Lieutenant Commander?”

“Yes, sir?” Elizabeth managed, swallowing again.

“May I have that for a moment?” He gestured toward the small box that held her new rank insignia.

Elizabeth handed it over.

He’s changed his mind. I knew it. She was not sure if she felt more disappointment or relief.

He opened it and looked at the polished emblem inside. Elizabeth thought he was going to close it again and put it away in his drawer. Instead, he stood up, reached inside the box, and removed the insignia. After studying it for a moment as he held it between his fingers, he reached across the desk and fastened it to Elizabeth’s collar. Taking a step back, he saluted her and then, after receiving her salute, returned the box to her.

“In my experience,” Adamson said. “The best officers I’ve ever served with have been the ones who weren’t sure they were ready.” He offered her a salute, which she quickly returned.

Adamson smiled. This time it filled his entire expression. Holding out his hand, he said, “Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander.”

Elizabeth stared down at his hand for a moment. Her stomach tightened as she accepted it. His grip was firm and sincere, not at all ceremonial. Still, that moment of contact caused a chill to travel down Elizabeth’s spine.

“Thank you, sir.”

Adamson’s smile remained even as his face took on a more serious cast.

“Will there be anything else, Lieutenant Commander?”

“No, sir,” Elizabeth replied, hoping her relief did not show too much.

“Very well then,” Adamson said. “You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir,” Elizabeth said, saluted one last time, and then headed for the hatch.

Outside, when she was certain that she was out of sight of the Admiral’s hatchway, she paused to collect herself.

Lieutenant Commander. First Officer.

She stopped, realizing that the Admiral had given her neither the name of her new ship assignment or her commanding officer.

“He must have thought I already knew,” she murmured, looking quickly around to see whether anyone had caught her talking to herself. It must be part of my profile now.

She brought up her tablet and accessed her personnel record. A moment later, she frowned deeply.

Ship assignment: pending final Fleet Command approval

Commanding officer: pending final Fleet Command approval

The knot formed in her stomach once more. Although her promotion seemed to be official—the Admiral pinned it on me himself—the details of her new assignment were not.

At least I know it won’t be the Washington.

Elizabeth cleared her tablet and then lowered it, wondering what to do next.

I guess there’s always one of the bars . . .

The thought reminded her of the Chief and a new ache formed in her chest.

I wonder where he is now?

She’d received no news from him after the crew had separated on their respective leaves back on Earth. Her messages to him had gone unanswered, but not bounced back as undeliverable.

He never was one for keeping up with the paperwork, she mused, remembering logging countless Engineering shift reports, finding it less effort than coercing him into completing them.

Lieutenant Commander.

Her fingertips rose to her collar and lightly touched the new bar fastened there. She could not conceal her faint smile of pride.

I wonder what he’d think now?