Randolph Lalonde - Fragments

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Minh replied with the first earnest grin Jake could remember seeing from his friend since he arrived in the sector.

Ashley woke to the feeling of Zoe climbing onto her chest, planting her hands on her cheeks and pushing up. To her surprise the toddler said clearly and insistently; “Ake up.” Ashley gasped with half exaggerated surprise and tickled the little one into submission. She writhed and giggled wildly. “When did you start talking?” Ashley growled playfully.

“She's getting more comfortable with you,” said a young woman sitting beside Larry. She was in a standard grey vacsuit, looked too thin, but could be pretty, especially with the riot of brown curls atop her head.

“How long have I been out?” asked Ashley. There were many other questions on her mind, but that was a good place to start.

“Almost eight hours. I woke you up as soon as Zoe started getting restless,” Larry answered. He had half the bridge displays hovering over the conference table, but he was focusing on the virtual navigational station.

Zoe was catching her breath, propped up on her hands atop Ashley’s chest. “Hungry?” Ashley asked.

The toddler nodded emphatically.

Ashley sat up slowly and put Zoe down. “Go sit at the table, I’ll get us somethin’, ‘kay?” To her surprise Zoe listened, running over to the chair beside the pilot station and climbing up. “So you put me out last night and stimmed me up this morning.” It was a statement and an accusation.

“I’m afraid so. It might not feel like it, but you’re still recovering. You need as much rest as you can get over the next week,” Larry replied, not looking up from what he was doing. The young woman beside him watched his every action as he worked the controls but kept her hands to herself.

Ashley started for the duffel bags and was intercepted by the spry, skinny girl. “Have a seat, I’ll get you and Zoe what you need.”

Ashley took her place at the pilot station, glanced at the status screen long enough to verify the auto pilot was doing it’s job then back at the young woman. She filled Zoe’s cup with synthetic orange juice from a liquid ration bag and handed it to her. “I’m Nerine, sort of the self appointed runner between you guys and everyone else trying to fight for the ship.”

“I’m Ashley, just trying to keep this boat afloat,” she replied, taking the sip cup from Nerine and handing it over to Zoe, who bounced in her chair in anticipation.

“I know. Larry here has been telling me and David how you guys have been getting us from A to B so the Captain and the rest can get things under control. We didn’t know you were here, otherwise we wouldn’t have let that hollow head lead the way when we first came in.”

“Hope there are no hard feelings about the itchy trigger finger thing.”

“Oh, they had it coming. If you hadn’t done something about it, David would have.”

Ashley was glad for the change in topic. She didn’t want to dwell on the fact that Larry had drugged her to sleep, she had no idea how to approach it, but knew it couldn’t happen again. “So, who’s David?”

Nerine’s barely veiled smile told Ashley more than the younger woman could express. “He’s sorta taken charge since Agameg had to split. I can introduce you.”

“If he’s between here and the bathroom, it’ll be a quick introduction.” She turned to Larry then. “Can you watch things while I-“

“Sure, we’re less than an hour away from emergence, though.”

“I can see that,” Ashley replied off handedly as she got to her feet. “C’mon sweetie, time for morning potty.” She offered her hand to Zoe. She took it and dropped off the chair, her mouth not leaving her spill proof sip cup. “That must be some orange juice.”

The youngster nodded and smiled around the drink.

“It’s a breakfast drink, I’ve pretty much been living on the stuff,” Nerine whispered. She had a gun belt loaded with shells in her hands.

It took Ashley a moment to realize the shells were the right size for the gun she’d unintentionally used the day before, and that the weapon itself hung in a black holster. “I guess that’s mine,” Ashley muttered. If it weren’t for Larry, whose eyes she could feel on her, she would have made sure the weapon was safely packed back into the duffel it came out of. If it weren’t for him, she would have never fired it in the first place. Guns were something other people had to worry about, dangerous objects that were only made for one thing.

Nerine misjudged her hesitation, glancing to Zoe. “Doesn’t look like you’ll be getting your hand back, let me help.” Before Ashley could object or vocalize how awkward she felt about it, Nerine slipped the belt around her waist and clipped it closed.

There were cartridges locked into loops around the entire strip, and the bullets were as thick as her thumb. It didn’t matter that they might all be suppressive rounds, and Ashley hoped they were, it just looked ominous. Like the kind of thing Oz, Stephanie or even Captain Valance would wear on a mission.

“Oh, I can get that,” Ashley said as Nerine moved to clip the thigh strap that held the holster proper to her leg.

“Never mind, I’ve got it,” Nerine said, the clicking of the strap punctuating her words. “Used to dress the Captain on my old ship sometimes, and compared to him I don’t mind at all. You smell a lot better.”

It was the most awkward thing Ashley had ever heard anyone say, and she couldn’t help but fix the girl with a surprised look as she blushed for reasons that were unclear even to her. “Um, thanks.”

Nerine just went about her business, opening the conference room door and leading the way. Ashley followed behind with Zoe in tow. She wasn’t ready for the sight that awaited her. For the first time since she’d been aboard, the large infirmary was full. There was barely room to move. They had managed to open the large emergency bulkhead and made good use of the extra space.

In every corner, on every gurney or bed, and around the nurse’s station were slaves who had turned to soldiering. It was a quiet, resting crowd of people in basic vacsuits or stolen armour. The hundreds fell silent and most of them stared at her. Zoe wrapped herself behind her leg and Ashley found herself envying the youngster, wishing she had someone to hide behind.

“Apologize,” spat someone in a whisper.

The man who had led the group into the conference room the night before stepped forward and regarded her mournfully. “I’m sorry for putting you in danger yesterday.” It was a practiced apology, someone had told him what to say and how to say it.

It was good enough for Ashley, however, who felt like the eyes on her were pressing down. They expected her to be some kind of commander, a leader. “It’s all right,” Ashley said quietly. “Thank you,” she added, not knowing why.

The need to get herself together, to have a minute in front of a mirror before doing anything else was more urgent than ever. “I have something to take care of. I’ll be right back.” She crouched down and picked up Zoe, who buried her face in her hair.

Former slaves quietly parted as she made her way to the medical bay’s public bathroom.

Ashley took care of her and Zoe’s immediate needs, and wished she had time to take a shower. Instead, she let the vacsuits run a quick cleaning cycle. She activated Zoe’s without thinking, and the youngster was so surprised at the air scrubbers in her suit that her juice cup went flying across the room, Zoe leapt from where she was sitting on the counter and started running around shrieking. She was out of her vacsuit faster than Ashley could have imagined.