Theirs Not To Reason Why: An Officer's Duty Part 32

The machine whirring at her side beeped. The Solarican physician stepped around the admiral, moving close enough to read the report. "Twelve morre Terran minutes Stanndard, then this session of dialysis will be complete. Would you like anything to eat beforre your nap?"

"No, thanks. I'm not hungry," Ia demurred.

The dialysis was important for keeping her blood clean. It even balanced her endocrine system, keeping her relatively healthy. But the on-off cycle of blood cleansing exhausted her energy reserves and left her feeling slightly nauseated. However, the doctor's ears lowered and his eyes narrowed, fixing her with a stern look that translated fairly well across the species boundary.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. A gla.s.s of juice and some crackers."

Rumbling in his native tongue, the Solarican doctor murmured instructions into the headset clipped around one pointed ear. "They will be herre in thrree minutes, along with cheese for prrrotein. You will eat it all, to regain your strrrength. I must check on the otherrrs soon, but you will eat firrst."

"The others?" Duj asked, curious.

"The pyrrrokinetic is still sufferring from psi-induced feverr. Until a Human parapsychologist arrives and begins the healing of his emotional wounnds, it is all our Seers can do to contain his gifts," Miian explained. "The sergeant is still in physical therrapy, learning how to walk with a prrosthetic while his foot is being rrregenerated, but will be released soon. The other thrree are rrecovering from sepsis trauma. Llieutenant Ia's case was worrsened by KI shock, from exercising too many Seer gifts all at once, but she is nnot the worst of my sepsis cases. She, at lleast, is mostly intact.

"I must ask you to go now, Admirrral," he added. "So long as yourrr Warstationn is in the same system, you will have opportunnnities to come back and speak with my patient. But forrr now, she is my patiennt. Yourr authority overr her has been temporarily superseded."

Irritated but thwarted, Admiral Duj gave Ia one last, dark look and left, his aides following in his wake. The Solarican busied himself with checking her monitors as the trio of Humans left.

"Thank you, Doctor," Ia murmured. She thought about reaching for the bed controls, but she hadn't lied; the treatments required for her illness were wearing her out. "Could you turn the comm radio back on? I was enjoying the music."

Doctor Miian sneezed in Solarican-style humor. "Now I knnnow you're delirious. Verrry few Humans like Solarrrican-style singing."

"I like all kinds of music," she murmured. "There haven't been a lot of opportunities for enjoying it in the last few years, not on Blockade Patrol. Even when we were on Leave, there've been precious few minutes for anything fun."

"Funn?" he asked, checking her pulse with the pads of his fingers, mindful of his claws. "Funn, like what?"

"I miss singing. I miss playing music simply for the pure pleasure of it. Even in the Marines, we got to sing. But not on Blockade Patrol." Her brow creased in memory. "Now, I can't help but think of what I did to all those Salik throats, plucking them out like...like demented harp strings."

"We have rrreceived a rrequest for a visit frrom a Chaplain Bennjamin," the Solarican observed. "She says she is worried for yourrr mental and emotionnal health. She is rregistered as a psychologist as well as a prrriestess. Perhaps you shoullld see her?"

Ia sighed and stared up at the ceiling, where some Solarican nurse, in a fit of whimsy, had hung a miniature ball of string. "Perhaps I should. But not until after I've received my new kidn-Ungh!"

"What?" Miian asked, bending over Ia in concern. "Wherrre does it hurrt?"

She grimaced, unable to lift a hand to her head, thanks to the tangle of tubes strapping her down. "They're-oww-playing with that d.a.m.ned machine again. Trying to figure it out. I wish they'd stop. I won't be the only one with a headache. Every Seer and psychic within sixty kesat of that thing will be hurting."

"You knnow what it is?" he asked her, ears flicking in curiosity.

"Oh, thank G.o.d, they shut it off again," she muttered, relaxing as the headache vanished. "No, I don't know what it is. But I do know something of what it does. That thing is more dangerous to the Alliance than even I can foresee. The only weapon we have against it...is knowledge..." Ia yawned, tiredness creeping up on her again.

"No falling asleep, Humann," her doctor admonished her a few moments later, nudging her right shoulder. The left one was still encased in a sleeve of regeneration packs, patiently removing the last of the scars from her multiple puncture wounds. "Wake up, your snnack has arrrived."

Dragging in a deep breath, Ia opened her eyes. She sat up a little more and reached for the items on the tray the brindle-furred nurse was swinging into place. Nauseated or not, she had to eat to refuel her body. The Command Staff would be expecting her to head their way in roughly fourteen days. She needed to be ready to travel in just under eleven.

Sipping at her juice, Ia let her mind drift back to the anti-psi machine. "I'll need to take it with me."

"Take what?" her physician asked as she ate.

"The machine we brought back-Nnyam ma'fau krrruu, k'in krramzhann l'ingh rruowel mnaa," she added, shaping the words as best she could.

Miian snorted, watching her bite into another of the cheese-topped crackers the nurse had brought. "Yourrr accent is almost as atrocious as yourr claim. What makes you thinnk we'll let you take it as yourrr warr-prize?"

"I destroyed an entire enemy encampment the size of this Warstation," Ia reminded him. "I personally cut off the head of their Grand High General, an act witnessed by many of the survivors, all of whom I rescued personally. I am responsible for the deaths of hundreds of high-ranked enemy officers. I have struck a blow so hard and deep into the chest of our enemy, it will take them almost a year-a Solarican Standard year, never mind a Terran-to recover. I have done such great acts of courage and valor, I have earned the right to be ranked as a War Princess, with all the privileges, power, and wealth such a position entails by Solarican law. Even as a foreigner and an alien, I have earned that much. It isn't official yet, but it will be. Yet all I want is that box, and at least one of the Human-shaped headsets to play with."

"I will pa.s.s along your rrrequest," he murmured. "But I cannnnot guarantee it will be honorred."

"Tell them they have my personal word of honor that I will make sure all findings are shared with the Royal Seer's Council regarding that machine," Ia told him, picking up her cup again. The tangle of tubing forced her to move carefully, but she still managed to salute him with it. "Remind them that this is the same code of honor that made d.a.m.ned sure I rescued every single being that I could, backed by the same determination that blew up that installation. They have my word of honor, meioa."

"I will lllet them know," he murmured. "But firrrst, you must eat. That is an orrder. Even a Warrr Prinncess must obey herrr physiciann when she is ill."

Tired but knowing he was right, Ia picked up the next cracker on her plate.

CHAPTER 20.

Most of us understand the concepts of honor, courage, cooperation, and the tenets of sentientarian aid, of saving lives, maintaining dignity, and alleviating suffering through acts of sharing and compa.s.sion.

The Alliance works because we recognize these qualities in each other. Yes, the Salik War and its subsequent Blockade formed our initial purpose for cooperating with each other, rather than contending or conflicting over the last two centuries. Yet the reason why we still get along and still work together so well after all these years is the realization that we are at heart-or whatever pa.s.ses for the heart-the same as our alien brethren deep down inside.

Whenever the Alliance as a whole agrees upon a thing, it is therefore a most powerful realization. Powerful, and humbling. Even if you knew it was coming, as I did. But as important as it has been to make sure people know what I am capable of doing-so that they can trust me enough to let me do more of it-it isn't about my abilities. It has never been about my abilities. It's about the fact that I use them, and most importantly, why.

It has always been about saving lives.

~Ia SEPTEMBER 6, 2495 T.S.

"Do you feel like talking about it?"

Silence.

"You do know you can talk to me about it..."

More silence.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

Nothing but silence.

"Well, then. If all you're going to do is pout over it-"

"I am not pouting!" Bennie snapped, finally breaking her sullen silence. "I am sulking. There is a difference, you know."

"Okay, so you're sulking," Ia agreed, holding up her right hand. She still had two intravenous tubes hooked to the veins in her left arm, but mostly to run it through a bacteriometer to make absolutely sure her blood was clean. "Do you want to talk about why you're sulking? Or do you just want to grump and glower a bit longer?"

Bennie muttered something under her breath. At Ia's inquisitive look, she repeated it a little louder. "Grump and glower."

"Alright. Do let me know when you're finished, so we can talk it over and work through why you're so mad at me," Ia stated calmly.

The chaplain gave her a dark look. "Excuse me? Where did you get your psychology degree?"

"School of Hard Knocks, magna c.u.m laude," Ia quipped deadpan, picking up her cup of caf' for a sip. Her blood pressure had stabilized without the need for further medicine the day after her newly grown kidneys had been implanted, but this was her first official cup of caffeine since then. "I would've been valedictorian, but I'm terrible at speech-making. Definitely long-winded, but nowhere near flowery enough."

Bennie chuckled in spite of herself. "That's for certain-dammit, Ia! I knew you were hiding something from me, but this? A psychic? And one h.e.l.l of a psi, given all the reports I've heard. Telekinesis, electrokinesis, telepathy, biokinesis-what else are you hiding under all that white hair?"

Swallowing the semibitter liquid, Ia set her cup down with a sigh and a click. "Quite a lot. But I had very good reasons for hiding it as much as I did. Now I don't have to hide it anymore...not that I could anymore, given all those reports that you've heard."

Bennie s.h.i.+fted in her chair, arms still crossed over her chest and looking very much like she was still sulking. "I had to call your parents, to let them know you'd been kidnapped. And then...then I had to call them again. They caught the pirates that kidnapped you, and the villains confessed that they'd sold you to the Salik. I had to tell your parents that you were now listed as Captured, Presumed Et. That is absolutely the worst task I or any other officer in the history of the Blockade has ever had to do!"

"I know," Ia murmured, not unsympathetic to her friend's pain. "I knew a long time ago that I needed to be captured at that point in time. And that I'd get myself and most of the others out alive."

A snort escaped the older woman. Bennie swiped a hand through her auburn locks, revealing the grey streak forming at her temple. "Well. That does explain why they were so calm when I called and told them you'd been captured. At least, I'm presuming there's some correlation between the two."

Ia looked across the room at the fake window projecting a computer-generated view of a lightning-teased forest from her homeworld. She had been upgraded to the gravity ward that morning, though the pull of gravity was not yet more than an easy, gentle, 1.2Gs, something even Bennie could tolerate.

She had also been given the best amenities the station had to offer, thanks to her newly minted heroism in the Solaricans' eyes. Some of the amenities were felinoid-specific, such as the all-body dryer nozzles built into the showering stall, but most of it was familiar enough to translate over to standard Human needs. It was a vast change from living naked for two weeks in an animal cage, waiting for her one chance to avoid being eaten alive.

"When I was three...I told my mother that she was pregnant with my little brother Fyfer, the day she conceived," Ia confessed quietly. "She didn't believe me. I told her my little brother would grow up short, and cute, and have curly dark hair. Three months later, a routine examination determined his gender. And when he was born, he was born with tufts of curly dark hair. He is now one hundred forty-eight centimeters tall, over thirty centimeters shorter than our older brother, and he still has dark curly hair."

"I've seen pictures of your brother Thorne. He has dark, curly hair, too," Bennie reminded the younger woman on the bed. "That much wouldn't have been difficult to guess."

"Thorne was born with lighter hair, almost blond. It only darkened as he got older," Ia stated.

Needing to get up and exercise some more, to push herself to get back into shape, she swung her legs off the bed and stood. Her abdomen was still tender, but at least she had her kidneys again. Doctor Miian had offered to regrow her ovaries as well, but Ia had demurred. She had grown used to not having any biological worries in that department. Most of her energy these days was being spent on keeping herself alive, anyway. Adding children into the mix was not an option for her.

"When I was an infant," she continued, "I would stop crying shortly after my mother began heating up a bottle of milk. If she started to put it away again, I'd start crying again, and stop when she resumed her task, even if I was in another room," Ia stated, carefully swinging and stretching her arms, mindful of the bacteriometer and its tubes. She could now wear pants instead of a gaping hospital drape, but her s.h.i.+rt was a poncho-like thing that snapped in place under her armpits. Grimacing, she flapped her elbows and muttered under her breath as the fabric fluttered. "I feel like a chicken in this drape-thing..."

"What are you saying?" Bennie asked skeptically. She ignored the younger woman's quip, still fixed on the previous topic. "That you're some sort of precocious clairvoyant?"

"Precognitive," Ia corrected, bending her legs in shallow squats. A few more minutes of this and she would begin to sweat. Too much bed rest had left her weak. "Not clairvoyant. Every step I have taken since my abilities matured at the age of fifteen, I have undertaken with full foresight and careful planning. I knew I would be captured. I knew I would be at that banquet as one of the main dishes. I knew I would be able to free all those people and destroy that installation. Just as I knew I would be doing most everything else I have done in my military career. Not always exactly what I would do...but I knew I would do it."

Another snort escaped the chaplain. "V'shova, Ia. n.o.body can foresee that much. Precognition is the least reliable of all the psychic abilities. Nebulous visions, metaphoric meanings, flashes of moments...and most of it can be derailed or avoided by making different choices. Even the Inner Circle of the PsiLeague won't pay that much attention to foresight warnings unless a minimum of twelve precogs all agree."

"Actually, it's only six who need to agree," Ia muttered. Bennie shot her a mock-dirty look. Sighing, Ia s.h.i.+fted to walking in place, swinging her arms and lifting her knees. "Look, just don't close your mind, that's all I'm asking. Dr. Miian has agreed to let me help run some of the experiments with the anti-psi machine we brought back. It'll take place after the commendation ceremony. I'd like you to come along and stand witness."

"Stand witness to what?" Bennie asked her.

"They've gathered several members from the various psychic organizations across the Alliance. The PsiLeague, the Seer's Council, the Nesting of Minds...I have some ideas of my own on what to try with the machine," Ia admitted. Her efforts were starting to make her sweat. "Part of what we're going to do is compare the machine to a KI monitor, and see how much the one can pick up through the interference of the other, as a way to gauge just how strong the nullifying field is. While we're doing that, the PsiLeague has agreed to give me an official rank testing, since all the various organizations have agreed their tests are the best benchmark for such things."

"Well, it was the founders of the PsiLeague who developed the first psi-sensitive monitor," Bennie muttered. "Alright, I'll come along. But only to hear the results of your testing."

Sitting back down on the edge of her bed, Ia picked up her mug and sipped at the cooling brown liquid. She sighed and set it back on the tray. "Part of me knows I'm going to take several more days to recover, even at my best pace. Part of me is just d.a.m.ned impatient to get back to full strength."

"Well, don't push yourself into a relapse," Bennie warned her. "Dr. Miian is kind of cute for a felinoid, but I hear he's already engaged."

Ia chuckled at that. "Bennie, I had enough problems with my one failed attempt at a relations.h.i.+p. What makes you think I'm going to go throw myself into another?"

Lifting her own cup to her lips, the chaplain paused and made a few bok bok bauk noises under her breath.

"I will not be provoked," Ia muttered. "Listen, once we're done with this visit, I want you to go back to the Mad Jack and pack up everything. Your office, your quarters, all of it."

Bennie choked on her caf', coughing hoa.r.s.ely. When she had regained some of her breath, she wheezed, "Are you nuts?"

"Maybe. I want you to put in for a solid week of Leave, starting September 10th. Tomorrow, the Command Staff will send orders that I am to report to them in person as soon as I have medical clearance to leave. Those orders will be rendered all the more urgent once I've undergone my rank testing. Everyone who'll be here to examine it is working for one or another of the military forces in the Alliance. Well," she amended, thinking ahead, "almost everyone...

"Anyway, when I head to the Tower on Earth, I would like you with me. If nothing else, for damage control," Ia muttered under her breath. "I have one last, big battle to fight, before everything changes. Unlike the Salik one, the probabilities for success are far less certain. Less than sixty percent. If I do succeed, I'd like you to come with me on my new a.s.signment. If I fail...I'm going to need you to contact somebody for me, and make sure they get in to see me."

"Get in?" Bennie repeated. "Get in, where?"

Ia gave her a level, sober look. "The Tower Dungeon."

The chaplain stared. She stared until she finally blinked and drew in a breath. "You're...going to try something that will risk you getting thrown in prison? What the h.e.l.l are you going to do, Lieutenant?"

"An extremely rare Yamaneuver," Ia said. She didn't bother to explain which one, though she did respond to the chaplain's dubious look. "Bennie, what is the one thing that you know I will do, regardless of the consequences to myself?"

She rolled her eyes, sagging back in her chair. This was an old discussion between them, one that was all too easily recited. "You will do your d.a.m.nedest to save lives, because that's the only way you can live with yourself." Bennie slanted her a sardonic look, mouth twisting in wry amus.e.m.e.nt. "You're like some G.o.d-d.a.m.ned martyr, meioa. Except you thankfully keep coming out of these situations alive."

Picking up her cup, Ia saluted her chaplain with it. "Hallelujah, Sister. Amen to that."

SEPTEMBER 9, 2495 T.S.

Once again, she stood before an audience of military personnel. This time, it was a mixed audience, containing both Human factions, Solaricans, Tla.s.sians, Gatsugi, K'katta, and even a few Choya. She hadn't actually rescued any Choya from the suckered grasp of their mutual enemy, but that was believed by the rest to simply be a matter of Salik preferences; with their copper-based blood, the Choya "tasted bad" to Salik sensibilities.

She knew why. The average Choyan soldier, the ones sitting in the auditorium, they had no clue, but their top military and government leaders had made a devil's pact with their fellow amphibians. That was a problem for another day, though Ia couldn't quite stop worrying about it. My schedule never clears...It just scrolls down to the next week's disaster, and the blank spots fill up as fast as a thought. At least I've pushed back the start of the next Salik War by several months. They're still scrambling to fill in the gaping holes in their top echelons, thank G.o.d...

The K'kattan amba.s.sador gestured for her to kneel for a fourth time. Lowering herself, Ia rested a palm on the floor as she ducked her head, permitting the dignitary to toss another thin, silk-like sash over her head. His arachnoid race didn't wear much in the way of clothing, unless the ambient conditions of temperature and weather or a lack of atmosphere demanded it. But they did decorate themselves and each other with colorful sashes, ta.s.sels, and ribbons. Alien or otherwise, their war heroes were no exception.

Clicking and whistling, the K'kattan envoy chittered, letting his translator box explain the honors bestowed. "And this is the Sash of Sentientarian Aid, specifically bestowed upon those aliens who go out of their way to render a.s.sistance to our kind. Thank you, meioa. May there always be such acts of compa.s.sion, valor, and honor exchanged between our kinds."

"Thank you, Amba.s.sador." Dipping her head, she carefully rose back to her feet. Though she had regained much of her illness-sapped strength, the weight of the medals now pinned to her jacket-all of her medals, pinned in place for this very formal occasion-made it feel like she was wearing the upper half of her weight suit instead of her Navy Dress Blacks, her most formal uniform with the blue stripes down the black sleeves and matching pant legs. A uniform she would have to remember to take with her.

"Go forth onto the plains of war," the alien chitter-translated, giving Ia one last benediction, "but may you one day retire in peace and long life in the trees, Guardian of the Terrans."

"Thank you, Amba.s.sadorrr Ch'chullwik," the master of ceremonies stated. Sent all the way from the Solarican homeworld, Prince of the Blood Nazrrin gestured for the last set of presenters to step onto the stage. "War Prrincess Ia, I prrresent to you the Secondaire of your own goverrnment, Meioa Justinn Mandella."

The tall Human strode onto the stage with the same confidence as the last Secondaire Ia had faced. Prince and Secondaire exchanged murmurs in greeting, touching palms and pursing their lips in Solarican-style smiles, then Secondaire Mandella faced Ia, his lips still closed but now stretched wide, Human-style. "Lieutenant Ia."

She saluted him. "Secondaire, sir."

He returned the salute, then clasped his hands in front of his waist. She knew it had to be a calculated gesture; no protocol cabinet member would have allowed him to board an alien station without informing him of the various possible interpretations for common body gestures. It was the Solarican version of crossing his arms over his chest, one which could be interpreted as either stern or playful...and among the Gatsugi could have meant anything from mere hunger to the symptoms of cardiac arrest. "Lieutenant First Grade Ia. You have a bad habit of doing heroic things, don't you?"