Diverse Demands
To my son, Philip,
who is no stranger to conflicting demands.
I love how you make me laugh and make me proud to be your mom.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Share the Adventure
Cast of Characters
Another Adventure
Books By Sharon Rose
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter One
Kena crossed the Ontrevay’s navigation command room, weaving between the crew that strode to stations around the circular room. Time to exit multi-dimensional slip. A procedure she could never treat as routine, no matter how many times she performed it. Not when a mistake could kill them all.
Kena sat at the primary nav station and touched the seating control. The couch re-formed to accommodate her Human physique. Controls extended from the console at the perfect angle for her grip.
Behind her, Hrndl, the chief navigator, said, “Netlyn, come and take over directive.”
Hrndl’s familiar, guttural voice turned vowels to a breathy rumble, the best her Grfdn vocal organ could manage. At least she spoke the common Prednian language better than most of her race. Netlyn’s smooth Tenelli voice set a distinct counterpoint as she responded and confirmed crew assignments. Details Kena didn’t need to worry about with Netlyn as second navigator.
Kena felt Hrndl’s approach as shifting emfrel, the faint mental energy that every race exuded, but only Human’s noticed. Just enough for Kena to sense the one Grfdn moving amid the Tenelli, Prednian, Veet, and Meklehon crew on duty. Hrndl sat at the dimensional drive station next to her.
A pleasure to partner with Hrndl again, despite her need of a telepathic link. Instant communication was a welcome bonus, but it wasn’t without cost. Kena’s gut tightened. Not that. Not now. She stuffed the familiar dread back down. This would be a basic link. One of the reasons she had learned the Human version of telepathy. Besides, Hrndl needed it. There wasn’t much Kena wouldn’t do for her.
A hush settled over nav command as the critical moments approached. Even though they returned to a familiar region, the support navigators would be searching for hazards. Nothing was static here.
Hrndl said, “Kena, I request a telepathic link.”
Kena differentiated the portion of her mind she would let Hrndl perceive and pointed at the largest screen before them. A simple technique. They both looked at the same thing, then found the corresponding image in each other’s mind.
Hrndl’s telepathic energy drowned out the random emfrel in the room as they studied the image. Tunnels slid within one another, superimposed over vacant space and the fringe of the nebula they passed. Already, the tunnel representing the fourth spatial dimension was beginning to open.
Kena guided the Ontrevay as the S4 dimension unfurled. Tiny perturbations appeared. Not dangerous yet, but they could spread. She skirted them, letting Hrndl perceive her intended maneuvers via their link. She sensed Hrndl’s coordinated responses with the dimensional drive. Kena chose the exit location. Hrndl knew in that instant, but Kena marked it for the rest of the crew. Another dimple appeared in the S4 tunnel.
Netlyn ordered, “Elna, rescan this for tra-pentazine. Quon, check the perimeter.”
Too close to exit for a course change, but that dimple was stretching. Kena began a gradual dip to increase separation. She hated to, but that was navigation…always balancing the risks. Potential collision versus an unstable course.
As they passed the anomaly, it exploded. The tunnel tugged and snapped back to stable form.
Close one. “Rift exit in ten seconds,” Kena said.
She felt Hrndl deactivating the dimensional drive, almost as though Hrndl’s hand was an extension of her own body. The extra tunnel flattened, then vanished from their screen.
“We are clear in normal space,” Kena announced to the nav command crew.
Hrndl activated reversal thrust. The counter-moving time tunnels began to slow.
Kena tweaked her course and checked the latest scans before tapping an option on her console. “Initiating programmed course.” Her hands fell to her lap.
Hrndl hesitated a moment. A wordless sense of appreciation between friends drifted from her.
Kena smiled as they separated. Hrndl may have wanted more than that, but emotion in a link…no, she wasn’t going there.
Hrndl rose with precise grace from the dimensional drive controls. “Well done,” she said, returning to the central directive console.
They would all be switching tasks now, and Hrndl would no doubt send most of them to the astro section with Netlyn. As Kena waited for orders, she cycled local scans of the interstellar space surrounding the Ontrevay. Clear and serene. As safe as a vacuum could be…except for the collection of volatile trazine and pentazine they approached. She checked the scan of the distant samples. All stable within a 3-D grid of containment fields. Safe for now. And the benzlium the navigators had collected on this run, could power those fuel-sucking fields a while longer.
Hrndl paused midway through task designation.
Was something wrong? Kena glanced back at her. She read a low screen, expression calm beneath the chestnut hair that clung to her head like a cap.
“Cancel that,” Hrndl said. “Netlyn, take over here.”
Netlyn’s wispy hair quivered with her nod. “Acknowledged.”
Hrndl continued. “Kena, Ghent wants to see us.”
That probably meant the captain had received a message from the PitKreelaundun. A thorn that would never let her rest.
Kena followed Hrndl from nav command and fell into step at her side. In peripheral vision, she caught Hrndl darting a quick glance at her. Again. Kena maintained a neutral expression. “Messages from the PitKreelaundun, I suppose.”
“Beyond doubt, but that’s not why Ghent sent for us.” The outer corners of Hrndl’s eyes lifted in the Grfdn version of a smile. “He received a message from Gordahl.”
Kena’s lips parted. Was this the news she longed for? The Collaborative’s chief of science fleet was sending them a resupply vessel. Had he finally found a commander?
The instant she entered Ghent’s consult room, his almond-shaped eyes, so dark beneath his fur-covered brow, met hers. “You’re going to like this one, Kena.”
She sat beside Hrndl at his curved granite table. Odd furnishings for a spaceship but fitting for its Plynteth captain. “Don’t leave me in suspense.”
“Gordahl has found a
Human navigator that he considers qualified.” Ghent mirrored her smile and turned to Hrndl. “His rank may be an issue, but Gordahl will manage that short-term.”
“What rank?” Hrndl asked.
“Mid-level, rather than a senior navigator.” Ghent nudged the corner of his computer screen with a long, grayish finger, swiveling it to face them. “He’s only been with the Collaborative two years, but he has more extensive qualifications in the Earth system.”
Kena scanned the navigator’s assignments and commendations. None of his early career mattered in the Collaborative, but it was an impressive list spanning eight years. “I see why Gordahl would consider him for commander despite the rank issue.”
“Do you know him?” Ghent asked.
“No. It looks like he must have left career training on Earth about the same time I entered it. I haven’t run across him in the Collaborative.” She tilted her head. “We do have a few ships.”
Ghent smiled at her quip. Plynteth never used understatement, but he made a point of learning communication idiosyncrasies of his diverse crew. Just one of the traits Kena admired in him.
Ghent rolled his fur-covered shoulders. “Hrndl, do you consider him acceptable?”
She glanced at Kena. “What’s the Human perspective?”
They didn’t need to ask her, but that was one more thing she appreciated. “Leading missions in our asteroid belt, training non-Human crew members, good stats…I’d welcome him to the crew.”
“Agreed.” Hrndl narrowed her eyes at the screen. “But that name! Kena, why are there three of them, and why is one marked as non-pronounced?”
A chuckle welled up within her. The navigator used his middle name as an alternate to his last. Good thing, because a Grfdn would never get those adjacent vowels out with their guttural voices. She waved the question away. “Cultural. Let’s focus on the names he uses.” She enunciated, “Antony Galliano.”
They tried to imitate her pronunciation. Good thing Hrndl would have a month to practice. Kena stifled an urge to giggle, but it spread an effervescent warmth through her. How long had it been since she’d shared deep laughter? And even longer since she had seen a Human. Oh, to speak the quick flow of English again, with all its nuances. The way friends conversed. The rich understanding that only common heritage provided.
Ghent watched her. The frequent pucker smoothed from the charcoal fur of his brow. “You look pleased.”
“It’ll be nice to see a Human again.” Another understatement, vastly so. If her spirit could be seen, its wings would be spread.
“Keep thinking about it,” Ghent said, “because your least favorite task is next. Translation of PitKreelaundun messages. I’ll join you in the communication section in a few minutes.”
Even that didn’t annoy her now.
Ghent waited for Kena to leave, then turned to Hrndl. “Did she link with you?”
“That was always beyond doubt,” Hrndl said. “It was slip exit. She wouldn’t deny my request.”
She had told him the same earlier. He’d had his doubts, for Kena had declined telepathic linking with any of them since she returned from her ordeal with the PitKreelaundun. Disturbing that they had to resort to a navigation need to get her to use telepathy again. But necessary. Their truce with the PitKreelaundun depended on Kena getting her skills back to normal. Well, not normal for most Humans, but normal for Kena.
“How was she?” Ghent asked.
“Focused and stable.” Hrndl let guttural vibrations reach her voice. “So focused that I discerned nothing at all of her emotional state.”
“Hiding it?”
“Hard to be sure.” Hrndl shrugged. “I lingered for a moment at the end, but she offered nothing further. Kena has always been intentional with her telepathy. One’s purpose for the link determines what they obtain. According to Metchell, that’s normal for Humans. At least, the few capable of their unique form of telepathy.”
“True.” Ghent swept his fingers in a slow arc across his granite table.
“This little experiment,” Hrndl said, “tells us that her telepathic skills have not been compromised. Whatever is disturbing her has nothing to do with that.”
“With what, then?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt we need to worry about it. When we spoke of…uh…” Hrndl pointed at the screen. “…of our new Human navigator, Kena’s smile finally found its way to her eyes.”
The triple-chime of a command tone rang from Antony’s computer. Odd. He was between assignments and without a captain.
He shaved the last of the black stubble from his chin before going to his computer. He’d left it extended on the sitting room table, and it displayed a message from Gordahl, chief of science fleet. Strange. That explained the command tone, but since when did Gordahl reach out to individual navigators?
Antony tilted the computer and read the rest. Immediate openings for four navigators to join the Ontrevay’s crew on a resupply mission. Not bad. He’d only been at the space station for a day, and already he had an opportunity. His last captain had placed a commendation on his record, but even that didn’t explain a direct invitation. The Ontrevay’s current mission info was included. Maybe he’d find a hint there.
Antony pulled on a black T-shirt and ran a comb through the tight waves of his hair. He mixed a mug of coffee and sat at the table to review the Ontrevay’s info.
They’d been sent out to investigate the planetary breakup in the SMG76428 system. He’d seen the images of that, of course. Who hadn’t? Something that ominous got plenty of attention. The Ontrevay’s crew had collected samples and identified two new elements that they called trazine and pentazine, or tra-pentazine for both. Harmless alone, but destructive together. Their science staff was studying it near the source, deeming it too dangerous to bring all the way back.
He sipped his coffee. Sounded like interesting nav work, but that was only half the question. “Who’s in this crew?” he murmured, flicking the screen ahead. His eyebrows lowered as he read, and his mug sank until it thumped on the table.
A communication tone interrupted. Good. The direct video comm link to Earth he’d requested was ready, and his mom was waiting for him on the other end. He tapped the connect option.
“Anthony! How are you?”
He smiled at her buoyant voice. She never made any attempt to adjust to his name change. A mom could get away with that. Her dog, Ginger, jumped onto the couch, tail lashing the air.
“Great, Mom.” He extended the computer’s camera to a better height for video. “And you?”
The dog cocked her ears at the screen and uttered a single bark.
His mom ruffled Ginger’s ears. “He’s not asking you, silly girl. I’m fabulous.”
With a familiar swing of her head, she swept her black hair around to hang over one shoulder. It must have grown a foot since he left Earth, making her look even more like that old picture of her Indian mom.
She evaded Ginger’s attempt to lick her chin and asked, “Where are you this time?”
“Prednian space station.” He omitted that it was near PitKreelaundun space. Bad enough that he was so far away. No need to mention the dangerous location.
His mom pushed Ginger down to lie in her lap. “Space station, huh? Let’s see, you must have finished that last jaunt you were on. Do you have some time off?”
“Maybe not much. I just got in yesterday, and a new mission came available this morning.” He sipped his coffee. Yuk. Cold.
“Tell me about it.”
“The ship is named Ontrevay.” Antony shoved his mug away. “It’s a science ship that needs to be resupplied.”
“Which race?”
He shook his head. “Not designated. It’s commissioned by the Collaborative instead of one member. It’s crewed by a dozen races, heaviest on Prednian and Tenelli.”
“I liked the Tenelli friends you brought home.” She made them sound like school buddies. Her eyes crinkled like she could sense his silent la
ugh across the void. “How many Humans?” she asked.
“Only one.”
“One? I thought you said that’s a bad idea.”
“I did.” Antony’s lips tightened. “Worse yet, she’s working under a Grfdn chief navigator.”
“She?” His mom drew the word out and sat up straight. “Oh, Anthony. A damsel in distress for you.”
“Mom! She’s a senior navigator. Damsel in distress doesn’t fit the persona.”
She flopped back against the couch and shook with laughter. Ginger wagged her tail harder and panted like she was laughing, too. His mom’s voice quavered. “What’s her name, dear?”
He stressed her title. “Sr. Navigator Kena Talgarth. That’s the equivalent of a major in the Earth Space Consortium.”
“The same rank as you. That’s convenient.”
“Not really. I’m not at the senior level yet in the Collaborative.”
“That’s so unfair.”
“It’s reasonable. How could they honor the disparate ranks of every member race?”
Her dimple peeked out. “They don’t have to, dear. Only yours.”
“Yeah, Mom. What have you been up to?”
She launched into a summary, complete with rapid tangents. This was why he’d requested a direct comm link, so he could listen and watch her. His conscience still jabbed him for leaving the Earth system right after his sister’s funeral. It didn’t help that his mom insisted she could get along just fine on her own. True enough, but he still worried. These moments helped, when he could see the joy in her eyes and hear laughter in her voice. Strange that she had stopped grieving while living in a house full of memories. He still couldn’t bear to think of Mary. But his mom was okay, and that was what mattered. Besides, if anyone could make him laugh, it was her. This time, it was her dramatization of Ginger’s antics in the park.