Emerald Flight: “Star Wing” (continued)

Devereux stared out from the command deck, casually surveying the activity on the bridge. Her eyes felt dry and grainy. She had to blink to focus on the main displays, only then realizing that she had working for more than three hours without a break.

I really need to stop doing that.

She stretched hesitantly, feeling joints crackle and unused muscles mutter their complaints. Her stomach awoke from its slumber as well, reminding her that she had eaten nothing since breakfast. Letting out a slow breath as blood flowed back into awakening muscles, she scanned the bridge for Elizabeth, and then remembered that her First Officer had gone off-duty more than an hour earlier. Hawkes, too, was gone, replaced by Ensign Cortez at the Tactical station.

He was off doing . . . whatever it was he did during his off hours. She had never been sure. Although than sometimes seeing him eating in the galley, usually alone, Devereux could not recall ever seeing him at any of the ship's informal social gatherings, except in those rare instances when she had not-so-subtly suggested that his absence would be noticed. Turning her head, she felt the tension along her shoulders and down along her back as the stiff joints in her neck snapped quietly.

I wish Hope was up and around. I could use one of her massages about now.

With that guilty reminder that she had still not made it down to the infirmary, Devereux logged off from the command station and rose. She was about the hand the bridge over to Cortez when Gho appeared near the main Science station. Intent on surveying the rest of the bridge, Devereux had overlooked the young officer. With that console mounted against the command deck platform, it was easy for her to miss someone seated at that station.

“Captain,” Gho offered quietly, as if uncertain whether she should interrupt her Captain's train of thought.

Devereux gave her a quick, warm smile. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

The young officer relaxed and, Devereux noted, stopped fidgeting quite so much with her tablet.

“I completed a draft of that analysis you asked for,” she said.

Devereux stared at the Science officer for a moment, trying to remember.

Did I ask her for one? A thin fog shrouded her thoughts. Wow, I am tired . . .

At her Captain's questioning look, Gho quickly added, “The one about the drift of the debris field.”

Devereux nodded her understanding. Oh, right. She felt a small wave of mild relief. Nothing urgent or vital.

Gho watched her expectantly. Devereux was tempted to ask if they could discuss in the morning, but she could see that the young woman was eager to present her findings.

Taking a slow, shallow breath in an attempt to clear her head, she flashed the lieutenant another quick smile, and said, “What did you find out, Lieutenant?”

Gho seemed uncertain whether to just offer Devereux the tablet or report her findings from it. Devereux managed to suppress most of a smile, remembering her days as a junior officer when she had to submit a report to one of the command officers.

“Just give me the high points,” she told Gho. “You can save the hard math for the pilots and the engineers.” Her eyes flicked for a moment toward the helm station, but Pyrafox, who might have enjoyed the joke, was not there to hear it.

“Yes, Captain,” Gho agreed. Her expression told Devereux that she had been confused by the comment.

She tapped up a chart on her tablet. “Based on the current trajectory and drifting velocity of the debris field, I've calculated a course it might have followed since its origin point.”

A bright yellow-green line appeared overload across the small grid on the tablet's display.

“It's only an approximation,” Gho added apologetically, unwilling to look up from the tablet and meet Devereux's eyes. “It's passed through a lot of uncharted space,” she explained. “We don't know what kind of gravitational or other effects it might have encountered during the past two thousand years.”

Devereux's thoughts came to a halt. She silently replayed the Science officer's last statement, wanting to make sure that she had heard it incorrectly.

Two thousand years?

She must have either also spoken her question aloud, or Gho had read the question in her expression.

“I'm sorry, Captain,” Gho offered, sounding uncomfortable. “I thought someone had told you.”

Devereux glanced down at the tablet in the Science officer's hand, trying to remember if she had seen such as assessment in any of the daily department logs. She was certain that she would have remembered if she had.

“I've haven't finished reading all of the reports yet,” she admitted. That part is true, at least.

Gho relaxed, nodding slightly with understanding. “Professor Jeffries and the Chief just got done dating some of the samples,” she explained. “The metallic fragments near where Chief Rayna found . . . the alien seem to be about that old.”

“I see,” Devereux said, trying to force her fatigued mind to function and produce a least moderately rational conclusion from the data.

Two millennia. That poor thing's been floating out there for more than two thousand years.

She tried to put into further perspective, frustrated by how slowly her mind seemed to be functioning.

Earth had barely entered the Middle Ages. She looked up from the tablet and stared at the security display that monitored the infirmary's isolation chamber. If that thing really is Aerian . . .

For her previous experiences on the Aerian home world, she knew the Aerian culture was old. She now had a renewed understanding of exactly what that meant.

“Captain?”

Devereux turned and focused again on Gho. She gave her a small, apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, Lieutenant,” she said. “I was thinking about our . . . guest. Please continue.”

Gho's eyes flickered toward the security display and then back to the Captain.

“Based on my calculations,” Gho went on. “It's looks like the origin point of the debris field was about twenty-two light years from here. Whatever created it happened there.”

“How close are your approximations?” Devereux asked thoughtfully.

Gho frowned unhappily. “Pretty approximate,” she admitted. “So far, we can only guess at about two thousand years,” she said. “And have no idea what kind of acceleration or deceleration the mass might have experienced during that time.”

Devereux took the tablet from Gho and studied the chart on its display.

“It looks like this passes not too far from the Paragon colony.”

Gho reached over and tapped a control on the tablet. One of the dots that speckled the background of the chart glowed a little brighter.

“Yes, Captain,” she agreed. “But not on a direct course. Barely even in sensor range.”

Devereux studied the display thoughtfully. “Anything else?”

“That's mostly it, Captain,” she said. “Unless you want to check my calculations.”

“I'll pass on that for now,” Devereux chuckled. “Send it to me and I'll take a closer look at it later.” She flashed Gho a tired smile. “Right now, there's a ham sandwich and some hot tea with my name on it in the galley.”

“Yes, Captain,” Gho replied, seeming unsure whether or not to smile at the Captain's remark.

Devereux handed Gho back her tablet. “Nice work, Lieutenant.”

The young officer brightened. “Thank you, sir.”

Devereux smiled and regarded the young officer for a moment.

It's both so easy to forget and so easy to remember what that was like.

“Have a good evening, Lieutenant,” she told Gho.

“You too, Captain.” Gho looked quickly away, apparently embarrassed.

Devereux breathed a soft chuckle as she headed for the main hatchway. She was still tired, but her spirits were lifted.

I really need to check in on Hope, she reminded herself, and made a solemn promise to do so—after she had silenced her stomach.