The Phoenix Rising by Richard L. Sanders Page B

but as far as I’m concerned you’re a civilian observer.
You’re here because I’ve chosen to tolerate you. But you are not
part of the crew.”
    “ That’s a waste of my
natural talents.”
    “ Just be happy you’re not
spending the journey in the brig this time.” On Summers’
suggestion, Calvin had decided to allow both Tristan and Alex to
have quarters. Thinking that the appearance of trust would elicit
maximum cooperation from both guests .
    Tristan frowned, and his eyes searched
Calvin. They didn’t glow red, however, so Calvin knew Tristan
wasn’t actually upset. More likely testing him, and trying to
weasel into as much power as he could. Calvin was going to keep him
under his thumb. Having a Remorii on the ship at all grated against
his better judgment. Unfortunately it seemed to be a necessary
evil. For now anyway.
    “ Very well, Captain ,” said
Tristan.
    “ That’s better. Now, Sarah,
the deck is yours.”

    ***
     
    Some of the crew didn’t take to him right
away. A handful even had complaints already. Mostly pertaining to
their particular shift assignments. “Take it up with the XO,” was
his constant reply.
    Several of the men were obviously infatuated
with Summers, and he didn’t really blame them. More like pitied
them. Fortunately he’d gotten a lot better at not letting his eyes
linger on her figure when she came around.
    The smitten newcomers repeatedly asked
Calvin questions about her. Is she seeing anyone? Does she date
other crew members? When is she not on shift? Calvin dismissed all
such questions. They weren’t important to him and, truthfully, the
last thing he wanted to be thinking about. If he was going to
strike some kind of harmony with Summers—where he could depend on
her the way he used to depend on Anand, rather than fight her at
every turn—he needed to cast aside all romantic feelings toward
her. And all the animosity he still harbored. Most importantly, he
needed to forget that brief moment on the observation deck, when
he’d opened his heart to her and she’d crushed it between her steel
fingers shortly afterward.
    To her credit, she did make a sincere,
though somewhat pathetic, attempt at an apology. So he would try to
let bygones be bygones and make things work.
    Considering that several members of the new
crew had no military experience, he was impressed at how quickly
they were adapting to the discipline. Summers had explained the
basics of protocol to each of them, in no uncertain terms Calvin
was sure, and had required them all to shadow existing crew and be
properly trained. Because of this, the shift schedules were thrown
off for the next twenty-four hours—a logistical nightmare Calvin
was glad not to be managing.
    After winding his way through the crew
quarters, the analysis lab, and even the mess, he’d introduced
himself to all the human newcomers but one. He found himself
standing outside the infirmary, a place he’d avoided going, and
took a deep breath. Part of him expected to find Monte inside,
grouchy and limping but secretly happy to see him. He’d trusted the
old doc tremendously, and they’d been friends for years. Ever since
Christine’s death.
    The clearest image of all
the hellish sights that dominated his memory of Abia was seeing
Monte slip from the deck ladders and plunge to his death aboard the
Rotham warship. Calvin felt a chill thinking about it, and tried to
push it from his mind. Monte is gone now.
Nothing I can do about it.
    He steeled himself and entered the
infirmary, trying very hard not to see the new chief physician of
the Nighthawk as an intruder squatting Monte’s domain.
    Dr. Poynter was her name. She was tall,
thin, and had the brightest red hair Calvin had ever seen. It was
curly, wild and clearly unmanageable so she’d tied it together
behind her head. She held a clipboard and was finishing up with a
patient.
    “ Take it twice a day orally
and let me know if you have any side effects, okay,
Donny?”
    The