follow your commands.”
“I have no doubt he will,” Ia muttered, grateful the lift was slowing for their destination.
NOVEMBER 29, 2495 T.S.
The chime interrupted her concentration. Sighing, Ia rubbed at her brow with one hand and touched the comm button on her workstation with the other.
“Come in.”
The door slid back to reveal the other redheaded officer in her crew. Delia Helstead sauntered inside, looked around at thesparsely decorated walls, and dropped into one of the two seats opposite Ia’s. “So. Captain.”
“So. Commander,” Ia quipped back, focusing her thoughts again. Text started scrolling up the screens of her workstation, until Helstead shifted in her seat, thumping her bootheels on the edge of Ia’s desk. A glance at the shorter woman earned her a bright smile. Sighing, Ia didn’t pretend ignorance. “…Can I at least finish my thought?”
“It’s your office,” Helstead pointed out, fishing out one of her thin stilettos from her upswept hair.
“You don’t want to play that game with me,” Ia warned her lightly. “I’m immune to your mind tricks.”
The petite redhead snorted, twirling the sheathed blade between her deft fingers like it was a pen. “It’d be illegal for me to use my psychic abilities on a superior officer without an emergency of some sort.”
“Then sit still, be quiet, and give me a few minutes to finish this,” Ia told her.
To her relief, Helstead did sit still. Well, quietly, at any rate. She fiddled with her sheathed blades, flipping them over and through her fingers multiple times.
Refocusing her thoughts, Ia resumed electrokinetically composing her correspondence. The last five years’ worth of practice made short work of her current round of prophecies. She then pulled up and added her thumbprints to two requisition forms, ones that Grizzle had flagged as urgent, then shipped them off with a tap of the controls.
A second tap lowered the screens back into the scrollbar edging her desk. Lifting her brows, Ia gave Helstead her attention. Helstead continued to twirl her blade until Ia sighed and gestured at her.
Thankfully, the smaller woman got straight to the point. “Your crew is getting restless. Bored, even. They’re overworked, and in need of a break,” Helstead stated bluntly. She slanted a look at the taller woman, her hazel green eyes sober. “I thought you should know. You’ve pushed them very hard with these tailored daily schedules. Unless you change something, you’ll probably push them too hard.”
“They won’t break. What do you think of having a party?” Ia asked her.
Helstead took the question in stride. “Better sooner than later. They’re learning to work together. If you really want as cohesive a workforce as you keep claiming, they’ll need to learn how to party together, too.” She grinned. “Though I don’t think these shipyards have a pub big enough to contain the resulting mess once they do.”
“We won’t be able to make a habit of stopping at whatever tavern we run across,” Ia stated, her gaze focused more on the future than on the present. “I’ve already made plans for weekly or monthly ‘parties’ depending on our schedules. Most of them will take place while we’re running between points A and B. We also don’t have enough time to hold a decent-sized party before we’re scheduled to leave dry dock.”
“That might cause some problems,” Helstead cautioned. She pulled a second sheathed pin-blade from her hair and started twirling it between her fingers as well, looking like a demented drummer with tiny, gilded drumsticks. Completing the illusion, her toes started tapping a syncopated beat, heels still propped on the edge of Ia’s desk. “Right now, they’re still exhausted enough each night to get along, more or less. Once they finish adapting to the high pace you’ve set, they’re going to have enough energy to be irritable instead of amiable.
“Now, you made me your chief
“I have no doubt he will,” Ia muttered, grateful the lift was slowing for their destination.
NOVEMBER 29, 2495 T.S.
The chime interrupted her concentration. Sighing, Ia rubbed at her brow with one hand and touched the comm button on her workstation with the other.
“Come in.”
The door slid back to reveal the other redheaded officer in her crew. Delia Helstead sauntered inside, looked around at thesparsely decorated walls, and dropped into one of the two seats opposite Ia’s. “So. Captain.”
“So. Commander,” Ia quipped back, focusing her thoughts again. Text started scrolling up the screens of her workstation, until Helstead shifted in her seat, thumping her bootheels on the edge of Ia’s desk. A glance at the shorter woman earned her a bright smile. Sighing, Ia didn’t pretend ignorance. “…Can I at least finish my thought?”
“It’s your office,” Helstead pointed out, fishing out one of her thin stilettos from her upswept hair.
“You don’t want to play that game with me,” Ia warned her lightly. “I’m immune to your mind tricks.”
The petite redhead snorted, twirling the sheathed blade between her deft fingers like it was a pen. “It’d be illegal for me to use my psychic abilities on a superior officer without an emergency of some sort.”
“Then sit still, be quiet, and give me a few minutes to finish this,” Ia told her.
To her relief, Helstead did sit still. Well, quietly, at any rate. She fiddled with her sheathed blades, flipping them over and through her fingers multiple times.
Refocusing her thoughts, Ia resumed electrokinetically composing her correspondence. The last five years’ worth of practice made short work of her current round of prophecies. She then pulled up and added her thumbprints to two requisition forms, ones that Grizzle had flagged as urgent, then shipped them off with a tap of the controls.
A second tap lowered the screens back into the scrollbar edging her desk. Lifting her brows, Ia gave Helstead her attention. Helstead continued to twirl her blade until Ia sighed and gestured at her.
Thankfully, the smaller woman got straight to the point. “Your crew is getting restless. Bored, even. They’re overworked, and in need of a break,” Helstead stated bluntly. She slanted a look at the taller woman, her hazel green eyes sober. “I thought you should know. You’ve pushed them very hard with these tailored daily schedules. Unless you change something, you’ll probably push them too hard.”
“They won’t break. What do you think of having a party?” Ia asked her.
Helstead took the question in stride. “Better sooner than later. They’re learning to work together. If you really want as cohesive a workforce as you keep claiming, they’ll need to learn how to party together, too.” She grinned. “Though I don’t think these shipyards have a pub big enough to contain the resulting mess once they do.”
“We won’t be able to make a habit of stopping at whatever tavern we run across,” Ia stated, her gaze focused more on the future than on the present. “I’ve already made plans for weekly or monthly ‘parties’ depending on our schedules. Most of them will take place while we’re running between points A and B. We also don’t have enough time to hold a decent-sized party before we’re scheduled to leave dry dock.”
“That might cause some problems,” Helstead cautioned. She pulled a second sheathed pin-blade from her hair and started twirling it between her fingers as well, looking like a demented drummer with tiny, gilded drumsticks. Completing the illusion, her toes started tapping a syncopated beat, heels still propped on the edge of Ia’s desk. “Right now, they’re still exhausted enough each night to get along, more or less. Once they finish adapting to the high pace you’ve set, they’re going to have enough energy to be irritable instead of amiable.
“Now, you made me your chief
Similar Books
