Interstitial

Interstitial

Interstitial

Synchronised

Impedimenta

Ann Somerville

Interstitial has been previously published.

These stories are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Interstitial © 2008 Anne Somerville

Synchronised © 2008 Anne Somerville

Impedimenta © 209 Anne Somerville

Cover image © Ann Somerville 2017 manipulating photos licensed by blackday, peshkov, Fxquadro, Subbotina Anna and Kurhan at fotolia.com

All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

For more information please visit my website at http://annsomerville.net

Smashwords Edition 1, June 2017

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Published by Ann Somerville

Chapter 1: Interstitial

T minus thirty minutes

Make sure you take those readings on the aft thruster emissions, North.

Yes, sir. On it already, sir.

North’s tone was barely a micron this side of insubordinate. Seb clenched his already painful jaw and chose to ignore it. Again. He could hardly break into his secret emergency stash of hooch before lift-off and, the way things stood, he’d need a drink or three before they landed on Terta. Better to just keep it casual and not let North get to him. His dentist would love all the extra work.

Good. I know Jati’s charting it, but I want the two of you to run some tests when we drop out of hyperspace if the talium is still on the high side of normal.

Yes, sir. Anything else, cap’n? Suck your cock while I’m up?

Seb froze. Of course the bastard wouldn’t say that out loud where the cockpit recorders would pick it up.

That won’t be necessary, he replied telepathically, his gaze firmly on the hangar outside the cockpit window, trying to ignore North’s reflection in the glass, the way North curled his lip at Seb’s cowardice. The expression sat badly on his almost too-pretty features.

Let’s start preflight, Pilot. Control, this is Captain ven Hester of the Naurus. We’re ready for lift-off.

He pushed a switch on the console and gritted his teeth a little as the BRAIN cringed at the frequency the electronics set off. He’d have to get it seen to.

Commence your preflight and proceed to the gate, Captain. The controller’s nasal voice sounded like he had a finger pressed up against one nostril, which he might well have. Flight Control got pretty damn boring sometimes. You’re due to clear at twenty-two-oh-four.

Roger, Control. He fed the information to the BRAIN and logged it. The ship shuddered slightly as the engines increased power. Right, slide us on over, Pilot.

He braced himself for another snotty remark, but North engaged the controls smoothly and the ship began its turn towards the flight-deck airlock.

They were launching late, the hangar only half full with a short line of ships waiting to clear, huge sleek black bodies like gigantic insects roosting for the night. After flying the much smaller fighters for years, Seb still found the scale of cargo ships hard to get used to, especially massed like this.

In the cockpit of the Naurus, he didn’t have a lot more room than he did in a fighter, even with two crew in control. Only when he walked outside the cockpit or went into one of the holds could he appreciate the size of their ship, how many more lives, how much more money was at stake if he screwed up. He could never take that for granted.

Did North feel intimidated by their responsibilities the way he sometimes did? It had never come up in their conversations, and Seb sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him now.

North read off the preflight checklist in a colourless voice, presenting the back of his curly blond head and hiding his face, but Seb didn’t need to be psychic to sense the burning resentment rolling off the man. He could have called in on stress leave or something, given North some space to calm down, except that would have meant sitting around in a space port with too much time on his hands. He’d still have had the problem of fixing a thoroughly fucked-up mess.

He forced himself to concentrate on his job, focussing his mind inwards and listening for the alien whispers of their symbiotic navigation. Take-off was the second most dangerous part of the flight, and he had a reputation as a careful officer to maintain. The BRAIN didn’t like this part, the sendings of the sentient organism restless and unsure, making him itchy in response. The BRAIN wanted to be flying, the urge hard-wired into its DNA. Part of Seb’s skill lay in reassuring it that soon they would be out in clear space, where the organism could express its ancestral nature to the full.

Around the Naurus, the other ships seemed to shift and shudder, as if straining at the leash. Seb was never sure how much of it was his fancy, how much real, but he could watch it all day, the great hulls flinging themselves into the black void, spreading their hyperdrive power rails, and surging into true flight.

Waiting in the queue left the two of them with nothing to do but watch. Twenty minutes later, they braced for the thrust of lift-off. With his big, capable hands North handled the mechanical controls easily while Seb listened to the murmurings of the BRAIN feeding him readings and calculations, automatically checking the numbers and confirming, none of it a conscious act. Fifteen years he’d been flying sentient ships, and now he never heard the words the BRAIN used. He wasn’t even sure it actually used words with him anymore.

When the BRAIN retreated slightly, he sighed and became aware of his surroundings again. They had already transitioned to hyperspace, the BRAIN having automatically engaged the FTL engines. He found North looking at him with the faint sneer he’d worn since they’d left Hyberi. Seb didn’t like it much, but wasn’t in a position to protest. He unfastened his harness.

Just going to supervise the stasis loading. Be back shortly.

Every recruit learned how to stare contemptuously at some prick of an officer without being charged with insubordination. The trick lay in focusing on a point exactly five centimetres above and to the left of their ear. Seb never expected to be the one getting that look, and certainly not from a friend’s cold blue eyes.

Aye, aye...sir.

North didn’t need to call him sir, but then Seb didn’t need to supervise the stasis loading either. Oh yes, passive aggression—the favourite sport on board right now.

It felt a lot better than it had any right to, escaping from the cockpit’s BRAIN-induced telepathy and any chance of North using it to get in some more digs. Cowardly retreat was another popular pastime around these parts. Even the neutral thoughts from the BRAIN seemed laden with accusation. It’d be a miracle if they completed this trip without someone infringing disciplinary regulations. If Seb was lucky, it wouldn’t be North. At least, not North on account of him. Seb wasn’t feeling lucky.

He closed the cockpit door and his stomach lurched that tiny bit as it always did when he hit near zero gee. The lights flicked on as the BRAIN tracked his movements, throwing the black and grey surfaces into harsh relief. He let himself float and grabbed one of the handrails to help himself move along the corridor. He’d only travelled a few metres when more lights switched on farther down the passageway, responding to someone’s motion. He spotted his engineer hauling herself along in the opposite direction, her long tail of black hair floating above her head.

Oh, Jati.

She anchored herself on a handhold and drifted slowly down to rest her feet on the floor, before bounce-walking a few steps to come and stand in front of him. Sir?

North’s collected those talium readings. Could you run them through the diagnostics? The BRAIN can’t give me an answer as to why the readings are high.

She smiled without it reaching her brown eyes. Sure thing, sir. They’ll only take about twenty minutes at the end of the run.

North said he’d help. The sooner we—

She cut him off with a slicing gesture, barely stopping it this side of rudeness. I can manage. Sir.

Her angular, attractive face twisted in a frown, and Seb couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen that. Is there a problem, Jatila? Between you and...? He gestured vaguely towards the cockpit.

She pursed her lips and sniffed, making a lie out of her answer. No. Sir.

What was with his crew and the barely concealed insults today?

But I was just on my way to the workshop, so if you don’t mind?

No, do what you need to. But before you do, could you do me a favour and check the connections on the console rocker switches in the cockpit again? They’re fritzing, and the harmonics upset the BRAIN.

She sighed. Yes, sir.

Thanks. And Jati, you don’t need to call me ‘sir’. Had he pissed her off too? He hadn’t slept with Jati. Surely he’d remember that.

No. Uh, sorry, Seb, just a bit distracted today.

That’s okay. Go on. I’ll be in the stasis hold.

She nodded and pulled herself along the corridor again. Seb scratched his head in confusion and began his own slow climb upwards. Some days he’d rather take on the entire Karhal race over trying to figure out his crew.

He arrived in the stasis hold just as their steward, Jik, climbed inside his pod. Marta began to punch in commands on the console. Seb walked over and patted the top of Jik’s pod.

Catch you on the flipside.

Jik grinned and made himself comfortable. Marta attached the nutrient and drug line to his chest, then checked the monitor leads, fiddling with the settings until his vitals displayed correctly. Jik, a ten-year veteran on the civilian cargo service, paid no attention to her fussing. He looked up at Seb.

You keep things nice and smooth, cap’n. I need to be home in time for my wife’s birthday.

Seb’s smile didn’t change. I’ll see what I can do. Have a nice nap.

He nodded at Marta, who closed the hatch. Seconds later, the pod flooded with sedative gas, and the vital-signs monitor recorded Jik’s heart slowing down to thirty beats a minute. It would reduce even more over the coming hours.

That’s them all safe and sound, Seb, Marta announced. I just want to run a couple of checks on the passengers. It’s a big payload.

Seb nodded and let her pass to the other end of the hold where hundreds of pods held their paying customers, row after row of silent dark capsules, discreet green and red lights on the side near the hatches the only sign of life or operation. He took over her seat by the console and stared at the glass hatch cover as the rising vapour inside hid Jik’s face. A few seconds later, the pod’s internal observation light flickered off, and he lost sight of Jik completely.

He’d done the stasis-pod thing a time or two, but he hated it. The complete unawareness of time passing, while everyone else in the universe went on with their lives, seemed like death to him, and however miserable he became, death had never been an option. He disliked his reaction to the anaesthetics too, which left him feeling slightly detached and dizzy for a week or more. The procedure was safe and well tested, but he’d consciously avoided any assignments which required it.

Being in a medically induced coma right now had a certain appeal, though.

Why the hell had he been so bloody stupid? He had his excuses, but of all the times to let his self-control slip, the day before he was due to spend three uninterrupted weeks in North’s company was surely the most idiotic. And now North hated his guts, all for the dubious benefit of a night of comfort fucking.

Seb didn’t blame him, but he couldn’t change the situation either. If anything, North’s behaviour perfectly justified his insistence that sleeping with a crew member was an incredibly bad idea.

And yet, did he regret it entirely?

~~~~~

T minus twenty-four hours

Hey, Seb. Don’t usually see you in here. North swung onto the barstool next to him and flashed one of his trademark wide grins. You know we’re flying tomorrow night. The BRAIN doesn’t like it when the captain’s pickled.

Thank you, Pilot, I’m aware of that. Seb saluted his friend with his glass of sinzenol. What are you doing here?

Regular haunt. The usual, North said to the barman, confirming his claim.

Seb could understand the attraction. The place was close to the hotel, music-free, with enough spacers around that another didn’t feel out of place, but not so many that it felt like being on duty. Right now, the noise level was well within his comfort zone and, until North arrived, no one had invaded his personal space. Seb had found the bar by accident. He wondered how often North came here.

Seb wouldn’t have if he’d realised it was North’s hangout. He hadn’t been looking for company. He’d just wanted some distraction from the crap in his head. North’s sudden appearance wasn’t unwelcome, though. He was easier to talk to than some, no part of Seb and Kurt as a couple. No reminder of that disaster.

The barman filled a long glass with some of the local beer and slid it across the bar. North typed in his authorisation code and took his drink, then turned around on the stool and faced Seb again.

Seriously, something up?

No. No more than usual.

Seb sipped his drink and winced. He hadn’t been in a mood for the beer, but the hooch on Hyberi always had a slightly harsh aftertaste that no amount of flavouring could hide. He didn’t drink much at all—he knew the regs inside and out, and sharing a space lane with an under-the-influence space captain was a truly terrifying prospect—but when he did drink, he preferred the stuff produced on Terta.

Ah. That bad, huh. Want to talk about it?

Seb glared. Is there a reason you’re riding in my slipstream, North?

No reason. Just being friendly. Just being a good little crew member, watching out for the boss.

Knock it off. I’m not in the mood.

North’s teasing grin slipped at Seb’s rudeness. Seb didn’t even know where it’d come from. He didn’t talk to his people like that, or his friends.

Something really is biting your tail, isn’t it? Is it home? Something happened with Kurt?

Seb’s throat closed and he had to take another sip of his drink before he could answer. Nothing big, just sorting out the stuff from the house, sending it to Kurt, moving into the new apartment. Not the greatest way to spend my break, that’s all. He couldn’t bring himself to mention the final divorce papers arriving, too ashamed to admit that last evidence of his failure.

Hell, moving sucks. That’s a big stress for you.

Don’t worry about it.

North gave him a rueful look. Well, I do worry about it, Seb. It’s been eating at you. Will you look for another house eventually?

I don’t know. Look, North—

You can talk to me. North kept his voice discreetly low. He wasn’t famous for his discretion, but he was smart enough. Sometimes it helps.

I can’t. Seb didn’t want to tell his friend to bugger off. In a funny way, it was nice to see a familiar face right now, but he really didn’t want to talk.

Okay. The offer’s there, just saying. You’re not getting shit-faced, are you? Cos it never helps.

The idea of this kid mothering him amused him no end. No, Dad, I’m not getting ‘shit-faced’. This is my first and probably my only one. I didn’t feel like sitting in my room on my own, that’s all.

You don’t know people here? I thought you did. You said something once about visiting—

Kurt’s family. Uh, not an option now.

Damn, no, it’s not.

Seb stared at his drink, contemplating the wasteland of his social relations and his love life. Talking to North had helped a bit over the last year since the kid had come on board Seb’s ship, but he was too young, too fresh to know what walking away from a marriage of ten years felt like. How could he understand the utter devastation of hopes and dreams and plans, knowing it was surely all downhill from now? That he’d peaked, had his chance, and blown it.

North’s mouth worked as if he was trying to decide something. As Seb glanced up, met North’s earnest blue-eyed gaze, his friend hesitantly reached over and touched his hand. Seb stared in surprise.

We could do something about that. His quiet voice now held an undercurrent of something. Something more. If you like. The ‘on your own’ thing.

Seb looked down at North’s pale hand on his darker skin. What are you offering?

Just company. More if you need it.

Raw heat flared through Seb’s body, burning away the dull misery, and suddenly the firmly repressed attraction he’d felt for this pretty blond spacer since North joined his crew was too much to tamp down, not on top of all the other stuff he had in his head.

Company would be good. And...more too.

North smiled, still a little uncertain, wide eyes open and guileless. Yeah. Okay. He set his drink down on the bar. We can do that.

Your place.

North knocked back the rest of his beer and got to his feet. All right then.

~~~~~

T plus twenty minutes

He hadn’t wanted to kill himself that night, nothing like it. But he might not have been particularly sorry if something had gone tits up on the trip, a highly dangerous state of mind for a man with close on six hundred souls and several million credits under his protection.

The mood had passed, but he was still a fucking mess, and no amount of fantastic sex changed that. When he flew back to Kanah, he’d still miss Kurt, still have to face a sterile bachelor apartment instead of the house he’d called home for over ten years. And he’d screwed up one of the few friendships that belonged to him alone and not to him and Kurt as a couple.

Are you all right, Seb?

He looked up at Marta’s concerned, young face. I’m fine. Everyone all stowed?

Yep. There are two passengers with tricky medical conditions that I’ll need to monitor, but they were cleared to fly, so I’m hoping they’ll be stable.

Me too. Losing them would break my run.

She grinned. You know people ask to be on your trips specially? Cos you’ve never lost anyone.

I’m not the only captain who’s never lost a passenger.

She reached over and touched the permadecal on his sleeve—the one he’d earned the right to wear, though it had cost him his ship, three good men, and his sanity, at least for a while. Yeah, but you’re the only genuine war hero. At least on this run. I’ve heard the passengers talking about how it’s a thrill to be on a ven Hester flight.

Come off it. Fortunately he wasn’t prone to blushing. No one cares who the captain is. Survival’s down to their fitness and the care you give them.

She shrugged. They never learn my name, but they all know you. Passengers are superstitious, just like spacers. Learn to love it, cap’n.

He snorted, impatient at such nonsense.

Are you sure you’re okay? Everyone’s so crabby this trip.

I’m fine, really, he lied. But do you know if Jatila’s all right? She seemed out of sorts.

Marta smiled, but her quick glance sideways told him she wouldn’t tell him the truth. Oh, she’s just, you know, women’s things.

Ah. Well, I won’t enquire. Although Jati had never let women’s things bother her before. Nothing likely to cause a problem on the flight?

No, sir. A little too quickly, and again with the unwanted sir. His crew was hiding something from him. But North’s been moody. Do you know why?

Men’s things, Seb said dryly. I’ll leave you to it. If you need a hand with those passengers, give me a yell. I can send Wegner down to you.

Thank you. She blushed suddenly, and he had no idea why. There was a lot he didn’t know about his people. He’d always thought it best not to pry. Now that lack of information had come back to bite him on the arse.

But he didn’t want to ask Marta what the deal was with Wegner, since she might tell him and that would be more than he could handle right now. He just smiled and backed out of the hold as gracefully as he could.

Yes, it was going to be a long flight. He might even catch up on his paperwork this time.

~~~~~

T plus ten minutes

North amused himself for several minutes thinking Seen ya NA-ked as loudly as he could in the hope Captain Tight-arse could hear him, even though the telepathy pretty much cut off at the cockpit hatch. Seb was supposed to be an adept. Huh, adept at BRAINs maybe. People, nah. Sure, he was smart and sharp and had a dry way with words that always made North laugh, and he was one of the best-looking guys North had ever met, but....

He jabbed his stylus at the console screen, just stopping short of actual damage, and wondered if he’d get through a three-week journey without punching his captain right in his rakishly broken nose.

Cowardly, lousy....

~~~~~

T minus sixteen hours

Seb wouldn’t look at him as he sat up, pulling away from North’s sleepy cuddling. That was his first warning things weren’t going to be all roses and puppies.

Hey, Seb.

His captain’s broad shoulders stiffened, as if expecting a blow. North felt his own chest go tight in response.

North. Jason—

Fuck it, Seb, I’ve told you not call me that. I hate that name.

Seb turned, his brown eyes bruised and tired, his mouth unsmiling. Sorry. North, look, it was great but—

Wait, wait, wait. Is this a brush-off?

I wouldn’t say—

Seb, you were the one.... North got to his feet, put his hands on his hips, wished he was wearing clothes, that this conversation was happening anywhere but this grimy spacer hotel. I offered you company, you accepted. Last night was great. You’re single, I’m single. What’s the problem?

Seb winced. That’s not the problem. We can’t do this. You’re my subordinate.

North blinked in surprise. Wasn’t your subordinate last night. I wasn’t just drilling for ventum, you know. It’s not against regs, not if it’s off duty.

No, I know it’s not.

Seb wouldn’t meet North’s eyes as he stood, found his trousers and pulled them on. It shocked North to realise he looked almost old. Such a handsome man, fit and lean, easy to forget he was twelve years older and a war hero. In a couple of years he’d be forty.

He seemed so damn miserable, North wanted to give him a hug. Do something. Anything but listen to his secret crush destroy his hopes.

You’re still my subordinate. It’s bad for discipline. I’m saying this can’t happen again. He tugged his shirt on, didn’t bother with all the buttons, and searched around for his boots.

Oh, you’re saying it. Nice to know you think you can tell me what to do off-ship as well as on. North stalked over to his pile of clothes. He smelled of sex and needed a shower, but he needed to be dressed more. He dragged on his underwear, his lips curling over gritted teeth. He couldn’t fucking believe this, he really couldn’t. I didn’t exactly force you in here.

I wasn’t thinking clearly—

North whirled and jabbed a finger at him. "Are you saying I