Senior Chief Maximillion Hales stood outside Admiral Lef's office. There were chairs. He didn't use them. Senior Chief's curt, brooding appearance was molded through years of military discipline. He was almost archetypal in his outward appearance. This was not a figure you wanted to face off with. He wore his experience with quiet, intimidating dignity.
The interim assignment he had just completed was meant to allow him to adjust. To reassess his career choices. He knew he was coming to the end of his time as a Dolphin. Seeing fresh young faces made him want to return to space more than ever. The memories of the first day meeting his pod until the last of them decided to leave kept playing endlessly through his mind. No matter what he did, he could not erase the memories. Hyperion had been the last to say goodbye.
"You really are too serious for your own good, Hales. You know that, right?"
She settled her six-foot-four bulk next to him on the locker room bench. It didn't bother him that she wore only her slim undergarments. He didn't feel attracted to her like that. This extraordinary person had watched his back and made fatalistic jokes in the face of death for twenty-seven years. And she was leaving.
"Do you blame me, Hales?"
He kept his gray eyes on the ground but shook his head.
"How can I blame you? None of us can be a Dolphin forever."
She kissed him on the cheek then. It was a gentleness he'd never known from other women. He responded by catching her hand as she stood up. Briefly, she squeezed his fingers, and then she and her broad smile were gone forever. Where was he going to go now? What would he do? His home was wherever he parked his armor, but finding new pod sibs, well, that was much harder.
Admiral Lef opened the door, and another chief walked out, looking somewhat stunned. He wore Petty Officer blues, but the new collar insignia proudly announced his abrupt advancement. Hales saluted the new Chief, as was proper for ceremonial recognition where there was no ceremony. The new Chief would be lucky to get a cupcake in the mess deck before being shipped off. There simply weren't enough enlisted above E-6 to allow them to hang about for ceremonies. The new Chief seemed to recover, shutting his slack jaw and saluting back quickly. He went on his way, his step firmer and his head higher. The Admiral nodded gravely to Hales and beckoned.
Hales entered. Admiral Lef's office was rather more luxurious than Hales preferred. A thick blue carpet with the Core Worlds emblem stitched into it swept the room. A wide wooden desk sat facing the door. Soft colors gleamed on the walls, and a spectacular view of the whole of the City of Justice on IO was visible through the floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk. The sweeping curves of FTC took center stage among the artful discipline of buildings surrounding it. The ranks of Army and Navy trainees marched through FTC with comforting regularity. Still, IO was, in fact, housing all of the administration of Central Worlds. No, that wasn't right, Hales reminded himself. Core Worlds. The humanoid and Macrodiae systems were the core of a new society. It was hard to get used to.
Admiral Lef saw Hales' eyes drift to the view and took his time settling himself at his desk. His morning security briefings stabbed at him like tiny knives driven into his skin. Outside the City of Justice's shield, Jupiter's intense radiation held intrusive spying at bay, and no one knew about the conversations. It gave Lef only a shred of relief. Something was going on out there in supposedly pacified territory. Something threatened the brand new peace that they had finally found. The Admiral watched Hales admire the view. The Senior Chief was observant of everything. He could also conflate those observations into a logical sequence of events. His mind worked just as well with inductive reasoning as with deductive reasoning. He might be the only one to figure this situation out.
Hales was looking forward to this conversation. After two long years at Fleet Training Center, he was ready to be active again. He had finally convinced himself what he really wanted was a new team. He wanted to be back out in space, using all those skills he had developed. He wanted a purpose. Yes, that was it. He needed a new purpose. Anticipation sat like his favorite saccharin candy on his tongue. A new squad, a new—
"Senior Chief. I'm giving you another babysitting assignment."
"Admiral..."
Hales felt all his animation drain away, leaving a bitter taste in its wake.
"Back to Fleet Training Center, Mx?" he muttered, chagrin coloring his voice.
"No Senior Chief. I am sending you to the SM-1. They are currently on duty in Eli sector. The Dolphin Squad has been decimated. They currently number four special service members. I need you to become their enlisted Commander."
Hales stiffened. Chagrin flared into anger.
"Just four left? Out of forty?”
Hales’ voice ground out the words, metal on metal.
“That sounds suspiciously like malfeasance, Admiral."
The Admiral cleared his throat, knowing Hales would immediately pick up deception or even exaggeration. No, he couldn't lie to Senior Chief Hales. He would not bother to try.
“Captain Eir states that the loss of the dolphins was "necessary but regrettable" in order to secure the outer rim base. What's more, he says the remaining Dolphins are insubordinate. They lack the discipline to accomplish the most minor of objectives."
Hales’ jaw twitched in disbelief.
"Regrettable?"
Admiral Lef nodded, "Yes, Senior Chief."
Lef was not given to overly dramatic or flowery gestures. Still, in this particular instance, he pointedly stood up to put his knuckles on the desk and leaned forward. He could not afford to display his emotions publicly, but he could transmit the depth of his fury by the intensity of his gaze, making Hales feel its weight.
"I want you to go to that ship, Senior. I want you to find out what happened. I want whoever is responsible, and I want those remaining Dolphins retrained. With SM-3 in retrofit, SM-1 carries the defensive load for half the human worlds against terrorism. We need those Dolphins to go back to work."
There was a flash of uncertainty in Hales' expression.
"I'm afraid I cannot give you an option other than this assignment, Senior Chief. There is no one else better qualified. Your cooperation is...appreciated."
So it was either this or immediate retirement. A stark choice. But maybe this was what Hales actually needed. Time. Time to assess his future options. He focused his concentration on his acceptance of this noxious situation. He looked straight at Admiral Lef.
"Yes, Mx. I understand."
Senior Chief Hales reached out for the archaic slice of paper on which assignments were given out. Taking the page was his acceptance of the assignment. The tinny voice of the Admiral's AI spouted the legalese.
Senior Chief Hales. You are hereby requested and required to assume command of Dolphin Squad currently assigned to SM-1 "Sparrow." Transportation has been arranged.
"Thank you, computer."
The Admiral held out a hand to Hales. They exchanged a firm grip until Hales was just becoming uncomfortable with the contact. Finally, Hales turned on his heel to exit. Irritation gripped him. Not because he had spent every morning for the past 700 days trying to worm his way into the heads of secretive, desperate, attention-grabbing, food-hiding recruits who displayed brick-wall refusals to obey, but because he could be headed toward trained soldiers with similar problems.
He absently picked up his cylindrical bag from the hallway. On the wall, a grainy black and white photo of an ancient Earth sailor with the same C-bag in hand caught his eye. All these centuries, and no one had ever thought of a better container. Did anything ever really change?
Jane, Leap, Heel, Tack
Four Dolphins sat around a rickety table tucked into the corner of the starboard launch bay of the SM-1. Behind them, Hard Lock armor suits patiently awaited their next mission. The gleaming alloys of each suit shone softly in individual alcoves. Such a dramatic contrast to the squishy little human balls of flesh that used them.
A giant of a man built like a small wall perched on his fragile folding seat, though he was in no danger of toppling. Two bright and eager men sat opposite each other, one a bit rumpled-looking, the other carefully attired. Facing the giant, the fourth was so scrawny looking and undersized that he resembled little more than a twelve-year-old. Boots up on the table, balancing on the back two legs of his chair, he lackadaisically tossed his betting cubes into the middle of the increasing pile.
"You best bet high, Jane. Otherwise, you're gonna lose big!"
The man they called Jane looked at his cards, reached over to the velvet pouch holding his betting cubes, and upended it on the pile. Dozens of cubes clattered and bounced among the bets. All three looked at Jane, swore roundly, and tossed their cards down in acknowledgment of surrender. Jane grinned broadly and tugged the pile toward him, laying his cards face-up on the table. The scrawny Dolphin looked over, letting his chair legs bang down on the deck.
"Hey, you don't have anything!"
Jane grinned even wider, "Heel, you told me to bet high. I don't ever disobey a direct order."
"You bluffing bastard!"
The other three Dolphins looked at each other and laughed hysterically. But the laughter didn't last long. Their humor gave way to serious glances as a transport maneuvered past the shield and landed with expert precision. Senior Chief stepped from the transport that had landed, hesitating only briefly to ask where the Dolphins were. The crewman pointed toward the corner of the bay gravely. Hales' murmur of "Thank you, crewman. Please have my bag taken to my quarters." was soft and gravelly with a touch of impatient dismissal. The crewman was only too glad to remove himself from the Senior Chief's intimidating presence.
A few moments later, Jane saw Senior Chief standing silent sentinel over them. He rose to his feet so fast he knocked over his chair and jarred the table badly, sending betting cubes and cards sliding to the deck. The scrawny Dolphin sighed at him.
"Jane, sit down. He's not gonna be here longer than a cup of coffee. You know that. Deal another round."
Jane did not salute Senior Chief. He knew better, but he was standing a hair away from attention.
"Heel, it's not an officer."
Senior Chief witnessed a defensive hunching around the table. Heel casually reached over and slid his shirt on over his almost emaciated frame. He did not remove his boots from the table or look at Senior Chief. This presentation was not the confrontational arrogance Hales had anticipated at the appearance of a new SEC. This reminded him more of a pack of beaten puppies.
"I am Senior Chief Hales. By order of Space Navy Admiral Lef I am now your new enlisted Commander. I am to ensure you are retrained to standard. We will begin with assessments. When was your last target practice?"
Leap swallowed heavily.
"Three weeks ago, Senior Chief."
Hales looked up from the tablet he had pulled out.
"I'm sorry, Petty Officer. I'm sure I didn't hear you correctly. How long has it been since your last target practice?"
"Three weeks. Senior Chief."
"About time, don't you think?"
Nervous glances. What was wrong with these guys? The range was like candy for special service members. It served as stress relief and equalizer. Targeting competitions even settled arguments. You couldn't keep Dolphins out of the range! Not going to the range was a punishment! Hales’ mystification intensified the internal struggle not to lose his eshǐ.
"Right. I will report to the Captain in fifteen minutes. Be on the range in twenty. Is that understood?"
Heel leaped to his feet in a parody of respect and saluted dramatically.
"Yes, SIR!"
Leap, Tack, and Jane held a collectively shocked breath. Hales leaned in very close to Heel.
"Do not salute me, sailor. I work for a living."
There was a quality to Senior Chief's words that went beyond threat. They promised painful, humiliating retribution that only an experienced SEC could deliver. Heel's arrogant posture wavered before that grizzled face. His hand and eyes came down under Hales' heavy stare.
"On the range. Nineteen minutes, Petty Officer."
Heel did not look up as he responded.
"Yes, Senior Chief."
Again, Senior Chief Hales found himself outside the office of a commanding officer. This time, he recognized nobody who came and went. There were no chairs. He only stood patiently, awaiting his turn at Morning Orders.
Captain Eir summoned Senior Chief brusquely. Senior Chief was not offended. Captains were busy people. Senior Chief intended to add to his load. Leaning over a desk, the skinny red-headed Captain multitasked, making notes on a star chart. At the same time, Senior Chief settled into a standing rest position in front of the desk.
"So Senior Chief. Have you come to sign the separation paperwork?"
Hales' couldn't have been more surprised if the Captain had decided to just slap him as a greeting. Did he want to get rid of the last four Dolphins? Swiftly he gathered himself.
"No. Mx, I was assigned to retrain these Dolphins. Until they quit, I will continue to do my job."
The Captain did not look at Hales but grunted.
"I could simply replace them."
Hales' tone took on a growling undertone.
"Not without my approval."
The Captain's head snapped up to face Senior Chief. A battle of wills was in the offing. Could he face down an angry Captain? He was taking a chance that he'd wind up at Captain's Mast or even in the brig, but he had to defend his Dolphins.
"Mx, perhaps you've forgotten the purview of a Senior Enlisted Commander? Your own orders were to take the SM-1 out on tour and bring her back in one piece, was it not? "In one piece" usually means with the crew intact. You've already lost thirty-six Dolphins."
Hales took the risk of leaning back to present an aggressive stance.
"Six lieutenants have passed through the Dolphin's department leaving behind no trace of commentary on any pod. In fact, there hasn't been a single review or activity log posted since the, how did you phrase it, regrettable yet necessary incident? Therefore, I am not likely to recommend replacements at this time. Mx."
Senior Chief could see Eir's hand gripping the edge of the table so hard he was white-knuckled.
"You Dolphin Chiefs. You're all the same. Senior, you have three days to get those Dolphins in order."
"Mx, my assignment is for two years."
"Yes, Senior, but you have exactly three days to accomplish the retraining goal. After that, I will drag those Dolphins to Captain's Mast and forcibly separate them. You know that a useless Dolphin is a liability to a ship. Four of them constitute the equivalent of a disaster."
"If you forcibly separate those Dolphins, Captain, they will be mind-wiped."
Was that a flicker of a smile? A vindictive, eager glimmer? What the hell was going on?
"Yes, Senior Chief. They will be."
Senior Chief straightened up, taking his eyes off the Captain. He saluted sharply.
"I understand Mx. Permission to be dismissed."
Always do the expected. Back down. Do not let them see your real power. The Captain's smiling nod was definitely satisfied as Senior Chief turned on his heel respectfully and let himself out of the office. When the four Dolphins arrived at the range, he was already there, as unflappable as every Senior Chief was trained to be. He purposely ignored the resentful, angry looks and Heel's pale shakiness.
"Good morning. Today we are performing the timed standards test. On the line, you will find a Mag-20 laser rifle, short and medium-range projectile pistols, and one convertible Mossy shotgun. You have two minutes to get five rounds from each weapon on the target. Choose whatever configuration you like for the shotgun.”
Hales lifted his eyes to the four in front of him. Jane, Leap, and Tack's expressions had changed. There was an eagerness slowly settling over them that he liked to see. Heel, however, was not only still resentful and suspicious but was swallowing hard. His hands were twitching. Senior ensured his voice was nothing more than cool and efficient.
"You may begin."
All four took their spots at the line, individual lanes lighting up as they approached. At the buzzer, Jane picked up the shotgun. Hales observed Leap and Tack hesitate briefly and seem to steel themselves as they picked up pistols. After the first shot, both began shooting with a spirited eagerness. Senior Chief watched Heel close his eyes and pick up the rifle almost lovingly but swallowing hard. The sound of Jane’s shotgun exploded. Heel jumped, letting the rifle drop to the line with a clatter, and Senior Chief's heart sank solemnly somewhere around his boots.
Heel picked up the rifle again, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The shot bounced wildly off the side of his lane; the laser shot landed nowhere close to the target. He tried again with the same result. Shaking, he picked up a pistol. It didn't turn out any better. His face twisted as he pulled the mossy into his shoulder and racked a single shotgun round. As he pulled the trigger, Senior Chief was aware of Heel's eyes filling up. As a single ball from the round creased the target, a groan escaped Heel's lips. He clenched his teeth and began firing wildly, even leaning forward against the line. He yelled as if he could get his rounds to hit the target by his very physical presence. But every time he shot, his hands jerked, and the projectiles went nowhere near where he wanted them to be. The other three Dolphins stopped firing and set down their weapons to watch, various levels of despair in their eyes.
Abruptly, Heel took the mossy and set the muzzle against his chin. Leap, Tack, and Jane all screamed at the same time. Senior Chief didn't move. The shotgun clicked emptily into the range.
*Safety protocol initiated.*
Heel let the gun settle down gently to the ground. He was drenched with sweat, tears streaming. He slapped the noise-canceling plugs on his ears. The rest stood with crushed looks on their faces. Hales knew the young petty officer had come to an end. He took the few steps necessary to get to Heel, knelt, and gripped the young man's shoulders. The young man remained limp beneath his grasp as he raised the man to his feet.
"Heel. What happened to you?"
Heel broke down, and the wash of anger Hales felt was not that of a teacher to a misbehaving student but came from a place of love much more profound. Heel was family, and something had hurt him. Dolphins started together, lived together, and usually ended together. Heel’s pain was Hales’ pain.
Senior gently took the sobbing young man by the shoulders.
"Oh, Heel. Why did you let them do this to you?"
Heel pulled away, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. His nose was runny, like a little boy.
"I didn't let them!"
Hales' lips twitched at the heated reaction. So Heel was bowed but not broken after all.
"Okay. Okay then. Let's all sit down and get a real picture of exactly what’s happened to you four."
"What? Really?"
"Of course."
The sudden reluctance on the part of all four young Dolphins floored him.
"Of course. I am a Dolphin. There will never be a time when I don't take your side. Even if you do something wrong, I will always ensure you will be treated fairly."
The reluctance turned to surprise and then relief. Finally, Senior Chief's encouragement allowed them to settle down.
"Good. That's better. Heel, I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened during the incident. We don't have much time to figure this all out. The Captain gave me three days to get you retrained."
Heel's outburst was unrestrained.
"Three days? We can't qual in three days! It takes months to get through the list!"
"Qual? You haven't qualified?"
"We were only here for two weeks when it happened!"
Leap jumped in, "Yeah, none of the officers were capable of qualifying us!"
"One thing at a time. I can qualify you. But I need to know what happened!"
Vociferously, Senior Chief's fist thumped on a handy surface for emphasis. Jane’s response was instantaneous.
"Yes, Senior! Well, we had only been here two weeks. Almost all the dissident activity in this sector is related to a single cabal. The Captain announced that they had found the cabal's central location. He wanted to wipe it out, so he sent every single Dolphin out to the mining facility."
Silence descended abruptly.
"And then?" Hales prompted.
Heel spoke softly, "It was a trap."
Jane continued when Heel couldn't.
"The Dolphins swarmed the main processing building from all cargo airlocks. They left us on perimeter watch to observe. We weren’t even supposed to be involved. Then it, the whole facility, imploded. You know how fire acts funny in a vacuum? It was like that. A ball of blue covered the whole thing like a shield, and then everything just dropped down into the ground. Protocol states we are supposed to retreat, wait for backup, but, um."
"I ran in. I broke protocol," Heel said.
He took a breath before continuing.
"One Dolphin was moving at the edge of the dead zone. Armor almost crushed. His name was Skin. He was burned beyond saving. I. I helped him."
Hales closed his eyes briefly. Mercy was legal and necessary in some cases. Heel’s Hard Lock armor would have confirmed the other Dolphin’s physical status.
"Your choice was brave, Heel. How long did it take for backup to get there?"
"It didn't."
"What?"
"It didn't get there, Senior. After I uh helped Skin we retreated. The shuttles at the pickup were on their way out. We yelled and one came back. We were never told why they were leaving."
Hales retreated into his own brain long enough that he felt the four young men shift uncomfortable looks by the time he was ready to talk again.
"He blatantly wants to get rid of the Dolphins, but only the Dolphins. Why? What is it about the Dolphins that's so threatening?"
"Get rid of us? We're his first and last line of offense or defense. It would be—"
"Suicide," Tack finished.
"We can't be turned, Senior."
"What's that Leap?"
"You asked what's different about Dolphins. Like the Yeoman, we're under inhibition, but our inhibition is for Core Worlds' benefit, not a Captain's. We can't be turned or coerced except at the highest levels of government."
Hales was relieved that they retained their ability to critically think. Jane abruptly stood up.
"We need to do something, Senior."
Hales and the rest of the Dolphins stood up.
"You're right, Jane. We're going to have to do what Dolphins do best."
"Blow stuff up?"
Senior looked pained as he bopped Jane on the head.
"No! Be unexpected. I am scheduled for a bridge watch at zero two hundred. So I think it's time you all started your shipboard quals."
0200
Senior Chief Hales arrived on the bridge precisely on time. The XO flicked a satisfied glance at Hales' immaculate uniform. About a minute after Senior took his station, Tack stumbled from the elevator, trying desperately to straighten his perennially wrinkled combos. Before the XO could open his mouth to lash the young Dolphin, Hales beat him to it.
"Petty Officer! I specifically told you zero two hundred! And what exactly are you wearing? Your pajamas?"
Snickers drifted across the metal-clad floor.
"Since you can't follow orders, baby bottlenose, you can play Yeoman's flunkie. Go check that one off your list," Senior snarled.
Tack looked stunned at the extreme insult, but Senior wasn't done.
"And tell those other reprobates to play supply clerk! I want them counting every toilet roll from the last supply run!"
Once back in the elevator, Tack leaned his head against the old, scratched-up metallic wall. The coolness helped ease the burn of Senior Chief's bite. Even if it was faked. The Yeoman's office was filled with the tap tap tap of the mechanical coding monstrosity First Petty Officer Hayes liked to use. A classic geek. Tack flicked open his wrist holo to display his qualification list. Hayes grinned at him.
"Aww. Did the big bad wolf throw you out of the den?"
"I'm supposed to inventory activities for you."
The hangdog look wasn't essential with Hayes, but Tack knew it didn't hurt either. Sympathetically, Hayes checked "Yeoman's Office" off his qual list, then opened up the activity files for him to browse. Tack carefully avoided glancing at Hayes while he surfed.
In Sparrow's vast supply locker, Heel, Jane, and Leap similarly lifted their wrists to a smirking supply Ensign. Then, they split up at his directive to begin counting plasma hammers and welding screws. Jane rolled his eyes behind the Ensign's back.
0215
"Commander, permission to use the front screen?"
It wasn't an unusual request, and the XO shrugged, "Permission granted. Make it fast."
The old screen spat static before finally clearing to show the Yeoman's office. Tack jumped to his feet and saluted at the XO.
"Third Petty Officer, report!" Senior barked.
"Senior. Activities show our departure three days from now, headed directly into the Loba asteroid field."
The XO cleared his throat, "You read that wrong, Petty Officer. We are going on recon around the edge of the field."
"No, Mx. I read the encrypted report. The Captain has auto-programmed our course directly into the asteroid field."
"How did you read the encryption?"
Senior growled, "He's a Dolphin."
Tack's image was joined by Jane's face.
"Senior! We found three hundred Bee Tee bombs in the supply locker."
The XO appeared ready to explode.
"Senior, really!"
"Mx. How many Bee Tee's did you order?"
"None, of course! We don't carry illegal weapons."
"Then how did they get there? And who had the authority to order those bombs? What were they meant for?"
The XO took a hard look at Senior Chief Hales. The Senior Chief’s record was stellar. There wasn’t a bone in his body that wasn’t Core Worlds Space Navy through and through, but he couldn’t help but be suspicious.
“Before you say anything, Mx, I want to ask you about the Dolphin's mission to the mining facility.”
“This is not the appropriate forum for that!” the XO snapped angrily.
Hales didn’t return the anger.
“I think it most certainly is Mx. You are uniquely qualified to answer these questions. How is it that there was no order from Space Navy Command to investigate that cabal?”
Senior Chief Hales was dicing dangerously. He had no standing with this ship, and breaking protocol was an extreme option driven only by his need to save these dolphins.
The XO’s jaw firmed.
“That is not possible.”
Hales remained quiet. The nervous glances from the bridge crew told him he was definitely on target. The XO punched a button.
“Computer! Bring up Mission directive ML thirty-two. Specifically, I want all communiques from Space Navy Command.”
No such record exists.
“It had to be a Dolphin commander to show me up.”
Turning to Hales he shook his head.
“Your insinuation is dangerously close to insubordination, Senior Chief. How did you know there was no communique?”
“Mx. I am a Dolphin. Do you not know what we are trained to do? We’re not cannon fodder. When an entire squad gets decimated, there has to be a reason for it, and it is not because they didn’t prepare.”
“Terrorists have bombs all over—“
“We check for that! Every time!” Senior Chief Hales finally lost his temper with the XO.
“Our detection equipment can identify any terrorist bombs, that includes Bee Tees, dirty bombs, parts for fuses, explosion paste, and laser-activated radiation coins! Whoever ordered those Dolphins into that mine murdered them on purpose with Space Navy equipment!”
The force behind Senior Chief’s accusation floored the XO, who had turned all sorts of pink and pale beneath his collar. The bridge crew shifted in extreme discomfort, not wanting to be the next target of this man’s attention.
The XO passed a hand over his face. His expression was all regret.
“Mx. There are two people on this ship that can delete that record. I’m looking at one of them.”
The XO’s head snapped up. His expression had changed to fury.
So, it’s not you, Hales thought. That leaves…
"Computer! Locate Captain Eir."
Captain Eir is in Armory Ten.
"Computer, This is an Alpha lockdown command. Voiceprint authorization Executive Officer. Notify all departments."
Lockdown confirmed
The lockdown alarm blared. Almost. After a few blaring sounds, the wail faltered. The XO swore roundly.
"Bloody old ship! Engineering!"
Senior Chief didn’t wait. He bolted for the elevator.
"Heel! Incoming! Captain Eir is on his way. Confirm! Heel!"
Two minutes later, Hales stood at the portal to the supply locker. The portal door remained firmly closed as the screen blipped the "lockdown" command at him. Finally, Senior Chief activated the primary comm circuit.
"Heel! Jane! Leap!"
The screen showed Leap's face in grainy splendor. Behind Leap, fuzzy shapes twitched in the background.
"Senior. Heel's been shot with an energizer. Jane's trying CPR, but we're afraid his heart's gonna stop. We called for medical. Get in here!"
"Leap? Pay attention to me. In the medkit on the wall, take out the IC injector. Put it directly into his heart. Directly! He'll scream, but that means he's still alive. After he starts screaming, count down from twenty. He’ll collapse. You need to pad him to restart his heart!"
Senior focused on the screen, seeing Leap's arm rummaging on the wall beside the comm. A clatter behind him told him the medical team was approaching from above. Still, he ignored it, concentrating on looking at the portal's access panel. Heel's scream was piercing in its agony. Jane's voice began counting.
"Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!"
A tingle on the back of Hales' neck was all the warning he needed. He didn’t even have to turn to let fly his KarB knife. Behind him, the Captain's astonished expression was fixed on him as he toppled down the wall. Beyond him, medical personnel ran, but everything was in slow motion. Jane's voice was so loud.
"Fifteen! Fourteen!"
Was that pain? Hales touched the back of his neck. The tingle had been a dart. It was the last thing he remembered.
Three Weeks Later: Core Worlds Hospital, IO.
He woke to see all four Dolphins sitting with him. Their expressions of pleasure were intense. Tack was all too happy to explain all the happenings.
"The Captain was a rare breed of dissident Senior. He was very patient. He wormed his way into the Space Navy with much the same inhibition training we had. His one goal was to destroy the SM-1. The refit of the SM's was a serious threat to the terrorists."
Heel grinned haphazardly in his delightfully irreverent fashion.
"Senior. We did it. We stopped a terrorist! Does it always feel like this?"
Hales chuckled.
"No. Sometimes it's a lot more painful."
They left, and Hales closed his eyes, but not for long.
"It doesn't have to be painful, Chief."
Hales' eyes flew open, but he knew the voice before he saw her. A tall, tailed nuisance of the Macrodiae variety.
"Rookie!"
One paw outstretched, "Peace, Senior Chief. I'm here to offer you an opportunity."
Hales shook his head, "I've got an assignment. I'm not abandoning it."
"You don't have to. This assignment begins six hundred seventy-eight standard days from today. I need an SEL who can guide Humans through the difficult process of growing up far from home. Of all the enlisted leaders, I believe you are the only one who can do this without crushing their intrinsic Human spirit. I need you."
"But I'm a Dolphin."
Ears wagged in reproach.
"No one can be a Dolphin forever."
Hales leaned his head back against the too-soft pillow. Yes. Far out into the reaches of space on the SM-2. These four wouldn't need him forever. The Rookie, however, would. A craving flushed over him. To be needed. Of everything, this made him complete.
"That is true, Rookie. I accept your offer."
Captain Ak's profile loomed, but it didn't bother him. Her claws reached down to deftly pin an anchor with two stars on his collar.
"Congratulations. By evidence of your own actions, you have earned the rank of Master Chief of the Core Worlds Space Navy and all the responsibilities that lie therein."
The archaic sheet of assignment paper slid into his lap, evidence that change did indeed happen.