- Footbutt
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- Exalted Member
"It's okay, really," she said with a bigger smile that warmed him from the inside. "But I soon realized that you guys were just like any other tightly-knit group. Heck, you even readjusted your HEV to follow me onto that cruiser. And in every other instance, you were there."
He shrugged. "We did make a pretty good team."
"Yeah." She looked down at her brush and picked the few clinging hairs to cast them to the ground. She looked back up at him with an enduring smile. "So, thanks."
He returned the expression. "You're quite welcome."
Even in the quiet solitude of the conversation room, there was so much he wanted to say but didn't know how. In his mind, a confession of love would still seem premature, but he wanted to make sure she knew where he stood. "Toril, about us . . . "
"The word's going around that we'll be heading back home soon," she interrupted. "The Captain doesn't want to stick around any longer than the rest of us."
"So I've heard." Nathan looked down into his hands and sighed. "Guess that means we'll be in Cryo soon." He opened his mouth to speak, but again, she was quicker.
"Tell you what, Parker," Toril began. "I'm sure when we get back to the rest of Humanity they'll grant the Spirit of Fire and her crew a nice, big leave of absence." She quickly stood and came face to face with him. "Let's wait till then to talk."
Nathan's smile vanished from his face. "Oh. Okay." Was I reading her all wrong? After their mutual apology in the spire's entrance to the artificial environment, Nathan assumed there was a possibility for a deeper conversation to take place. Apparently I was wrong. "Okay," he breathed, sounding more defeated than he wanted to.
Toril let out one of her trademark chuckles and leaned in. She kissed him on the cheek, and with her eyelashes tickling his skin, she whispered in his ear. "I'll see you when we reach dry dock."
Nathan felt warmth flood throughout his body and his pulse quickly elevated. He almost tightened his arms around her for an embrace, but she pulled her head back, leaving her nose a mere centimeter's distance from his. He breathed in deeply and she smelled of flowers. "Now you're just teasing me," he whispered back.
Toril gave him a quick peck on the lips and took a step back, wearing a smile. "Trust me; you'll know when I'm really teasing you." She took his hands in hers.
He tried his best to keep the schoolboy grin off of his face, but when his left arm rose, Nathan's shoulder stabbed with pain and he winced. "Sorry. My shoulder's still sore," he explained.
Toril nodded and gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Well, now you've get a reason to heal up." She started for her barracks and turned around in the doorway. Toril flashed him a smile. "Sleep well."
As Nathan watched her disappear into the darkness of the female barracks, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping at all that night. When he returned to his bed, all of his swirling thoughts focused in on Toril's beautiful face and how much he longed to see it again.
Dry dock couldn't come any sooner.
*** *** *** *** *** ***
Captain Cutter stepped into Andrew Prescott's pristine lab and was met with a troubled look from the Chief Engineer. "How bad is it, Drew?"
Prescott motioned the Captain over to a nearby console. "It's pretty bad."
James raised an eyebrow, not quite believing the man. "Worse than losing Serina?"
He pursed his lips. "Possibly." He sighed and brought up a screen containing a string of numbers with the image of the FTL drive they had pulled from Tradewind at its center. "We won't be able to safely engage the FTL drive for the entire trip home."
Closing his eyes, James let out a breath. Just when I think things couldn't get worse.
Prescott cleared his throat. "I think I know why. From what I read of Professor Anders' report on Serina's shut down, it's possible she was showing signs of rampancy before."
He opened his eyes. "How so?"
"Well, Serina reduced our time in the Slipstream by skirting past a few hazardous regions of space. I figured the strain on the FTL drive wore it out faster than I had first calculated. Than she first calculated."
"So we're back to just using normal propulsion," James growled, tasting the bitterness in the back of his throat. He recalled the star map Serina had pulled up from Tradewind's archives and knew it would be years before they could reach UNSC-controlled space, considering the circumstances. Long years.
Andrew Prescott winced. "Technically we could muster one more 'big' jump out of the drive or two smaller ones, though the latter might be risky."
James mulled over the options. The first thing he wanted to do was to get as far away from this station as possible. There was no telling how soon the Covenant could arrive with more ships, and the Spirit of Fire was in no shape to fight. The latter scenario of two smaller jumps seemed the most strategically sound, even with whatever risks were involved. "What's the catch with the second option?"
Prescott tilted his head thoughtfully. "The drive can make one jump for sure, but spinning it up to the factor threshold for a second time could cause the casing to crack, thus a meltdown."
James nodded slowly. "So if we make one short jump out of here, to an uninhabited region of space, we could preserve the FTL drive until you figure out how to get it running safely."
"It's a matter of wear on the drive, James. It's only got so much life left in her," the Chief Engineer politely corrected.
"Still, if we run into trouble along our route back home, we'll at least have a small chance to enter slipspace?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Or die trying," Prescott muttered. He sighed and held wiped a hand over his face. "I'll have every tech available on it, but I can't promise anything."
"Thanks, Drew." James patted him on the shoulder and headed for the door. "Will the FTL drive be ready soon?" Cutter asked over his shoulder.
Prescott nodded. "Just have Navigation send the coordinates down. It'll definitely have to be a short jump, but one that'll get us far from this system."
"Understood." He opened the door to leave, feeling more defeated than reassured of their safety.
"It could have been worse, James," the Chief Engineer said quietly.
"It could have been a lot worse." The Captain nodded and started for the lift lobby.
The lobby was void of the normal buzz of activity and a lift was soon opening up for him. He stepped inside and keyed for the bridge. Once his destination was entered, James leaned against the back wall of the lift and sank to his rear. He knew if he wanted to, he could let loose tears, but instead he buried his head in his hands.
After everything they had been through, James knew he would never see his wife again. Even at their best speed, the Spirit of Fire would make it back when Mary would be in the latter days of her twilight years, and women on her side of the family never lived long. It was just genetics.
James swallowed past the lump in his throat. There's a bigger picture here, though. His first priority was the safety of his crew and by the oath that he swore he had to set aside his musings of a future he would never see. He lifted his head and cleared his eyes with a few watery blinks, not recalling exactly when he produced the tears.
He sniffed one last time and was about to get up when the lift door opened prematurely. Standing just outside the lift were the three inimitable Spartans in the middle of a conversation. 092 was the first to see Cutter and he was bent down at the Captain's side in a millisecond.
"Are you alright, Sir?"
Feeling slightly embarrassed at having been caught in an awkward state, James forced a smile and waved him away. "Just feeling my age, Spartan." He stood up on his own but not without muttering a series of grunts. James gave the other two soldiers a nod each. "Going up?"
"Actually, Sir, we were looking for you," 092 said. He glanced at the other two Spartans before turning to face the Captain. "There was one Phantom that escaped the cruiser before it plunged into the planet's atmosphere." 092 sighed. "It was piloted by the Ship Master."
James frowned. "Are you sure?"
The Spartan nodded. "He was wearing the ceremonial armor. I didn't want to broadcast it over the channels, just in case he left a comm buoy nearby." He shook his head. "It won't be long before this system's crawling with Covies, Sir."
"Agreed." James motioned for the other two Spartans to enter the lift. "Then let's get moving."
Once 130 and 042 stepped into the lift, James keyed the control panel for the bridge just a few levels up. After a few seconds, the lift doors opened and Cutter led the group onto the bridge. "Navigation, have you consulted the star maps with the charts we have on file?" he asked, stepping to the tactical display.
"Yes, Sir." From his station, the officer brought up a large, three-dimensional image of countless star systems colored in blue. Then an overlay of yellow filled in the gaps from where the icon of the Spirit of Fire hovered to the UNSC-controlled sectors, while painting a portion of them green where the charts blended together. "We'll be able to lock in a solution to just about anywhere."