Rogue Mate, page 5
part #1 of Rogue Star Series
“I’m glad,” he said. “My engineer and head of security are looking into the shockwave. We aren’t going to travel through a fold again if there’s a chance we could create another one.”
“That’s a good idea.” As if I had any idea what I was talking about. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss besides sleeping arrangements?”
“Actually, yes.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together. “After discussing it with my crew, we agree that since we will be spending extra to feed and shelter you and the other females, it’s only fair that you lend us your services.”
“What, exactly, do you mean?” My spine stiffened.
Aliens. I might not know much about aliens, hell, anything about them.
But I’d watched plenty of old vids, and I knew what could happen.
“Work, maintenance around the ship, whatever your crew is qualified for.”
“Oh!” The breath I hadn’t realized I was holding whooshed out of me and I sagged in relief.
I should’ve realized.
“Yes, of course. That’s completely fair. The majority of the work on Persephone Station was maintenance and manual labor. We’ll make ourselves useful.”
“Excellent,” he grinned. “My crew has already started moving their things. I’ll give you a map of available rooms and you can prepare the human females once they’re done eating.”
I stood up, eager to share the good news, and smothered a completely inappropriate laugh.
Our station had been destroyed, we were refugees in an unknown section of space, on an alien ship, with the possibility of never returning home…
And this was still better than my day had started when Lynna pulled me out of the Flosh pod.
That was saying something.
Probably something awful, but something.
Dejar
Some of my men weren’t happy with surrendering their quarters but did so because I asked them to…and Aavat yelled at them and embarrassed them into it.
Teamwork.
Of a sort.
Meanwhile, Kalyn dealt with the issues her women presented to her.
She spoke to each of the women individually, ensuring their health and well-being. She personally led each one to their rooms, talking with them along the way.
If any of them gave her any issue, she handled it. She even sacrificed the room I’d set aside for her to a pair of the older women, taking the smallest one for herself.
Then instead of resting, she recommended certain women to help with certain jobs on the ship.
The female doctor was a breath of fresh air, as our own doctor had died months ago, and we were left with his son, whose knowledge of medicine was rudimentary, at best.
He tried, and was a quick study, but he just didn’t have the experience needed, nor the interest, really.
So, Kalyn introduced my crew to Lynna, the station’s doctor. She didn’t have experience with Shein, of course, but she’d looked eager to get started. Kovor had installed an auto-tutor, in case we ran into languages no crew member could read.
None of us used it. It hurt, having information crammed into your head.
But Lynna just gritted her teeth and asked our medic to get her hooked up. She was right, she’d need to be able to read Shein in order to learn about our physiology, but I still winced for her.
Kalyn introduced my engineering team to her engineer, as well as others of my crew to whichever of her people she thought could help the most.
She was kind, and resourceful, and listened...but she was inexperienced and didn’t know how to lead.
Far too many of her people argued with her, or ignored her until they got what they wanted, but she put in an effort to make sure they had what they wanted.
A surge of irritation flared through me. For all of her efforts, no one seemed to be looking out for her welfare.
And she wasn’t doing it herself.
That was enough.
“Kalyn?”
She had just finished taking one of the women to her new room and was looking a bit tired. She jumped a bit and I put my hands up to show her I meant no harm.
“Oh, sorry. What can I do for you, Dejar?”
“Come talk with me, if you please.” With one hand at the small of her back, I guided her to the mess hall, sat her at a small table in the corner.
“Hungry again yet?”
She nodded, eyes drifting closed for a flicker, lashes dark against her pale skin.
She’d need to rest soon, no matter which of her women thought they needed a different room or had some other ridiculous complaint.
I’d see to it.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked as I set down her plate and sat next to her. She was a sprightly little thing.
I found myself enjoying being around her. A new species was always interesting to meet, to learn about.
That’s all it was.
“Tell me more about what your outpost was,” I answered.
Between mouthfuls, she explained Persephone Station was essentially a place to send the malcontents and troublemakers, only a few people volunteered to go there.
Their original mission, or purpose, at Persephone was to investigate some minerals within the planet’s core, as well as observe the long-term effects the cold and ice had on various experiments.
“I barely understand most of it myself,” she admitted over a bite.
“Commanders don’t always have to understand the things they’re in charge of,” I said to her. “They just have to be able to ensure that things get done.”
With a nod and a swallow of food, she looked up from her plate at me. “Yeah, I think that’s the problem for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You guys showed up on my first day as commander. I had just been setting up my office when things went to hell.”
Ah, she’d mentioned something about that. I hadn’t realized she meant it quite so literally.
“Is that why the ladies don’t treat you appropriately?”
She shrugged. “Part of it.” She wouldn’t elaborate further, but I needed to know what I was dealing with.
I pressed her. “Please, tell me.”
After a few moments, she finally spoke up. “I think, no, I’m pretty sure, that it’s also because of my mother. She’s one of the people in charge of our Mars colony, a very influential and powerful person. She sent me to Persephone, mostly to get me away because I was an embarrassment to her, but knowing her, she also wanted me to get used to being a position of power so I could eventually take over for her.” Her lips twisted. “My mother never has only one reason.”
Ah, familial complications.
A problem for Terran people, as well. Some things seemed to be constants across the universe.
And her crew disrespected her and treated her as inferior because she was new and because she had been handed the position, not because she had earned it…at least in their eyes.
From what I had seen thus far, I felt that she would become a fine leader, just was raw and unrefined in her methods.
Aavat would argue she was too soft and sympathetic, but it was clear to me she was simply inexperienced and had not yet learned the nuances of her position.
And if her mother had been her only possible teacher, the disdain with which she referred to her didn’t bode well for whatever skills Kalyn had observed.
“Would you like some advice on how to deal with some of their issues?” I asked.
I wanted her to be better, to do better, and to be the leader that I had already seen flashes of.
When she nodded, I was elated.
Something about helping her seemed terribly important.
“Very well. One of the first things that you need to be able to do is show that you deserve the position, even if it was handed to you.”
“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “How do I do that?”
To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I knew from my own experiences, but I had also worked my way up from gunner to captain. “Your people need to see that you’re willing to work just as hard or harder than they are. Wait here.”
I got up to refill our drinks, and when I returned, I continued. “If they see that you’re willing to put in the work, they’ll see that you’re not taking the job for granted. What you did today was excellent, although…,” I let the sentence hang in order to see what her response was.
“‘Although’ what?” she asked, her voice holding a bit of an edge to it.
Good, she had been confident in her actions and was ready to defend them.
“When you sacrificed your quarters and took the smallest room, that might be construed as you being too soft and too willing to give in to their demands. You don’t-” I started before she interrupted me.
Her lovely eyes were narrowed, angry, as she tapped a finger down on the table between us. “I gave her that room because she has a bad back and the bunk in the room you had assigned me was better for her.” Another finger joined the first, emphasizing her point. “Not to mention the fact that the woman she is going to be sharing it with is her niece, so all I did was keep family together.” She pushed away slightly, arms crossed over her chest. “What’s so wrong with that?”
I held up a hand to forestall any further argument and explained myself. “What I was attempting to say was that you don’t want to come across as easy to push around. In that case, you made the right decision.”
Her eyes softened, just a bit, and she gave a small nod.
“Another option might have been to keep the bigger quarters for yourself and simply switch bunks.”
“But why would I want the bigger room? I don’t need it.”
I responded after I took a sip of my water, weighing my words. “How are your people supposed to speak with you in that tiny room you’ve taken? How are you supposed to accomplish any sort of administrative duties, or dole out punishment for bad behavior, or soothe a raging personality? There must be an air of command when you deal with your people, and sometimes where you deal with them adds, or in this case subtracts, from that.”
She did not like my answer. “I don’t see it that way. I see my choice to go with a smaller room sets a mood where my girls know that they can come talk to me and I won’t be that cold and distant person across the desk or across the room. I’ll be someone that gives a damn and is willing to be there for them, not just as their commander, but as their friend.”
“And what about the moments where being that person across the room or across the desk is the person you need to be?” I asked her.
She responded perfectly. “Then I’ll be that person, and I can be that person without the damn desk!”
I had touched a nerve, and she was defending herself, her methods, and her people all at once.
“Good. Now you’re thinking like a leader.”
She was fuming now, eyes sparkling, chin high.
I liked it.
I liked her.
Considerably more than I should.
Kalyn
“I think that’s the last of it.” Lynna returned to the closet of a room we now shared.
She and I had spent the better part of the day carefully clearing out the room. Thankfully, most of the items were already in storage boxes.
The tricky part was not knowing what the boxes contained.
Could’ve been spare parts, could’ve been a substance toxic to humans.
There was no way to tell for sure that didn’t sound potentially painful.
“Got a dustpan?” I swept the last of the dust into a pile in the middle of the floor.
“I’ve got a small empty box,” Lynna replied, offering the shallow metal rectangle.
“That’ll do,” I shrugged.
She held it still while I swept the dust into the box. “I don’t think the Shein are very different from humans.”
“Oh?” Lynna arched her brow.
“Imagine this same ship crewed by human men. It’d be this messy, too,” I smirked.
“True!” Lynna laughed.
“Have you ever met a human man?” I asked. She shook her head.
“You?”
“I’ve seen one or two, but never really been introduced,” I replied.
It wasn’t uncommon. The birthrate for human males had dropped so low after the last global war that it was rare a woman encountered a man outside of a reproduction agreement.
Most of our perceptions about men stemmed from old Earth shows called sitcoms.
The women I had gone to school with had argued about how much they could be trusted as a source of actual information, but really, if it wasn’t factual, why would they have created so many of them?
“The Shein have nice manners,” Lynna commented. “Not what I expected.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I wasn’t expecting aliens at all, honestly,” Lynna laughed dryly. “If I had to expect anything, I would’ve expected skinny little green men with big heads.”
“Same here,” I replied. “Or something with big teeth that spits acid.”
“Good thing the Shein don’t do that,” Lynna shuddered.
“That we know of,” I added with a quick laugh. “In all seriousness, I don’t think bunking with giant metallic space sailors is the worst thing that could’ve happened.”
“Neither do I,” Lynna agreed. “I don’t think the other women share the same mindset, though.”
Part of me had secretly hoped everything would magically get better the moment we moved out of the cargo bay and into proper rooms, got started on figuring out what the next steps could be.
Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, but a girl could dream.
The vacated rooms were small and most of the women had to bunk two or three to a room. Lynna and I took the smallest room and avoided a third bunkmate, though that was partially to spare anyone else from having to bunk with the commander.
I was confident no one other than Lynna was willing to do that.
I knew the other women weren’t thrilled with the new arrangements. Granted, they all admitted that it was better than the cargo bay, but I knew they missed Persephone Station.
I hadn’t been there long enough to see anything beyond the bleakness of it, but a lot of the women with me now had lived on Persephone Station for years.
It was their home.
As gray and bleak and cold as it had been, it was known.
Hell, maybe for some of them it had been comfortable in its familiarity.
And now…
“This is as good as it’s going to get,” I sighed and set the broom down.
“Time to decorate!” Lynna chimed.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think we’ll have much to decorate with,” I mimed searching in the corners. “Have you seen extra fabric or throw pillows around?”
“Give me time. I can make any room ten times nicer with the right materials,” she said with a definite nod. “And it doesn’t have to be throw pillows. But they help.”
“You’re a doctor that dabbles in home décor?”
“It’s a hobby,” she shrugged. “It helps me deal with the stress of my job.”
“Far be it for me to judge.”
We left our shoebox room and made our way to the main deck of the Rogue Star, where Captain Dejar and a few other crew members were passing out room supplies.
I stopped for a moment, just watching him. Them. Not just him.
Of course not.
I hurried over. Lack of sleep. Stress. That’s all it was.
Not the way his muscles rippled down his arms, or how gentle those large hands had been.
“We’ve got sleeping mats, pillows, and blankets. None of it’s luxury, but it’ll get the job done.” Dejar handed me a green blanket with a smile.
I grinned back, hoping none of the rest of my thoughts showed on my face, and quickly walked over to the stack of sleeping mats. I took the most worn looking one. It wasn’t fair to leave it for whoever got there last, and honestly, anything was better than the cargo bay floor.
Lynna examined each one carefully.
“I think they’re all the same,” I prodded when a few minutes had passed, and she still hadn’t picked one.
“I know,” Lynna laughed. “I want to make one of them more supportive. Stasia has a bad hip. I don’t want it to act up because the sleeping mats aren’t firm enough.”
I hadn’t spoken to Stasia yet, but I knew who she was.
Getting to know each of the Persephone women should have been at the top of my list, but there was something else weighing heavily on my mind.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the shockwave that destroyed Persephone Station. Dejar had told me he’d never seen anything like it before, that they hadn’t destroyed our home on purpose.
I still believed him, but his statement evoked so many questions.
It would’ve been easier for me to believe the shockwave was caused by a freak accident, but for some reason, I couldn’t make myself believe that, either.
Something didn’t add up.
With our sleeping mats, blankets, and pillows, Lynna and I returned to our room.
“Let me set everything up,” she insisted.
“I don’t mind helping,” I replied.
“I insist.” She practically grabbed the sleeping mat from under my arm. “I’ll maximize the space. Doing this sort of thing helps me process stuff.”
I didn’t argue with her after that. There was a lot to process. And figuring out how to maximize our shoebox of a room wasn’t going to help me in the slightest.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I’m going to go check in with everyone else.”
“Good idea,” Lynna smiled.
The Persephone women were spread out all over the ship. I first encountered Shenna, who looked like she was searching for something.
“Need help with anything, Shenna?” I asked.
“Have you seen Persephone?” she asked.
“I saw the pieces of it,” I said slowly, thinking fast. Was Lynna qualified for psychiatric care? I should have planned for this sooner. Surely some of the women were going to have some trauma to work through.
