with her, she hated to use it, but then again,
losing her mind wasn’t a great option either.
If nothing was really happening, Kel would be more than a little
unhappy with her if she used subterfuge to get information.
So she waited.
Two more hours went by and the feeling of impending disaster—
she could think of no other way to put it, even if it sounded
melodramatic—increased.
82
Annabel Wolfe
Now she really was starting to feel sick, if having her stomach tied
in knots counted.
Another hour passed. Thirty minutes more went by with agonizing
slowness…
Peyton crossed the room and lightly tapped in the code.
Immediately the medical monitor sprang to life, flashing a series of
question on the screen.
Please answer the following questions: 1. Is the problem bleeding,
intense pain, or acute weakness? 2. Are you alone? 3. Has this
occurred before and is the condition noted in your medical file? 4.
Are you ambulatory?
Yes. Yes. No. Yes.
Well, she only lied once. It made her feel guilty, but then again, if
this was all simply a false alarm, she’d apologize profusely and if
Commander Gallico wanted to punish her, well, so far that hadn’t
proven to be such a bad thing.
It didn’t take long for the door light to flash and two ship medics
to enter, one male, one female, both efficient as they did a quick
medical scan and asked a few questions. Peyton tried to look as wan
as possible and was vague, too concerned to be embarrassed over her
skimpy attire. In the end, they did exactly as she’d hoped and put her
on a gurney and took her to the medical floor level of the ship for
further evaluation.
The moment she was wheeled in, she knew her instincts were
correct.
The entire place was mobilized, full staff in place. She’d been on
enough ships to know when an alert for possible casualties was
enabled. Peyton was put in a cubicle and a few moments later a doctor
entered. He was a middle-aged, a touch of gray at his temples, and
currently wore a harried look. “I’m Dr. Houchins, head of the medical
personnel on this ship. Can you tell me, Lieutenant Valmont, when
the first symptoms set in?”
Under His Command
83
She was admittedly more than a little startled. He must have
correctly read her expression for Dr. Houchins said, “When we
contacted ship’s command to inform them of the message sent from
Commander Gallico’s quarters, Colonel Naiad asked me to treat you
personally.”
Jake, but not Kel. She wasn’t sure liked the sound of that. No, she
definitely didn’t like the sound of it.
“I started feeling ill about ten hours ago.” The truth, because that
was when she realized how long both Kel and Jake had been gone.
“It’s just gotten worse.”
“That’s a bit unspecific, but I suppose we can run a few scans.
We’re a little busy right now in preparation, but I don’t think your
condition is an emergency. It might be a little while to run the tests,
but in the meantime, we’ll keep you comfortable by giving you
something for the nausea.”
“What preparations? What’s going on?”
“Nothing for you to worry over.” He actually patted her hand.
In his defense, she supposed she hardly looked like a military pilot
with her hair loose and most of her body exposed by the next-tonothing gown she had to wear.
Fine, she’d get information another way.
“My sister is on board,” Peyton hoped she looked sufficiently
limp and apathetic. “Can she come sit with me? I am sure if you ask
Commander Gallico, he’ll agree.”
“He isn’t on the ship. I suspect Colonel Naiad is busy also, but I
don’t see any harm in authorizing that request myself. I’ll send
someone for her.”
Kel isn’t on board ?
Her stomach truly began to churn. “Thank you.”
It seemed to be an eternity she lay in a small cubicle, the
surroundings sterile and not conducive to anything but anxiety, she
found. When the thin panel slid back and Tara came in, she
losing her mind wasn’t a great option either.
If nothing was really happening, Kel would be more than a little
unhappy with her if she used subterfuge to get information.
So she waited.
Two more hours went by and the feeling of impending disaster—
she could think of no other way to put it, even if it sounded
melodramatic—increased.
82
Annabel Wolfe
Now she really was starting to feel sick, if having her stomach tied
in knots counted.
Another hour passed. Thirty minutes more went by with agonizing
slowness…
Peyton crossed the room and lightly tapped in the code.
Immediately the medical monitor sprang to life, flashing a series of
question on the screen.
Please answer the following questions: 1. Is the problem bleeding,
intense pain, or acute weakness? 2. Are you alone? 3. Has this
occurred before and is the condition noted in your medical file? 4.
Are you ambulatory?
Yes. Yes. No. Yes.
Well, she only lied once. It made her feel guilty, but then again, if
this was all simply a false alarm, she’d apologize profusely and if
Commander Gallico wanted to punish her, well, so far that hadn’t
proven to be such a bad thing.
It didn’t take long for the door light to flash and two ship medics
to enter, one male, one female, both efficient as they did a quick
medical scan and asked a few questions. Peyton tried to look as wan
as possible and was vague, too concerned to be embarrassed over her
skimpy attire. In the end, they did exactly as she’d hoped and put her
on a gurney and took her to the medical floor level of the ship for
further evaluation.
The moment she was wheeled in, she knew her instincts were
correct.
The entire place was mobilized, full staff in place. She’d been on
enough ships to know when an alert for possible casualties was
enabled. Peyton was put in a cubicle and a few moments later a doctor
entered. He was a middle-aged, a touch of gray at his temples, and
currently wore a harried look. “I’m Dr. Houchins, head of the medical
personnel on this ship. Can you tell me, Lieutenant Valmont, when
the first symptoms set in?”
Under His Command
83
She was admittedly more than a little startled. He must have
correctly read her expression for Dr. Houchins said, “When we
contacted ship’s command to inform them of the message sent from
Commander Gallico’s quarters, Colonel Naiad asked me to treat you
personally.”
Jake, but not Kel. She wasn’t sure liked the sound of that. No, she
definitely didn’t like the sound of it.
“I started feeling ill about ten hours ago.” The truth, because that
was when she realized how long both Kel and Jake had been gone.
“It’s just gotten worse.”
“That’s a bit unspecific, but I suppose we can run a few scans.
We’re a little busy right now in preparation, but I don’t think your
condition is an emergency. It might be a little while to run the tests,
but in the meantime, we’ll keep you comfortable by giving you
something for the nausea.”
“What preparations? What’s going on?”
“Nothing for you to worry over.” He actually patted her hand.
In his defense, she supposed she hardly looked like a military pilot
with her hair loose and most of her body exposed by the next-tonothing gown she had to wear.
Fine, she’d get information another way.
“My sister is on board,” Peyton hoped she looked sufficiently
limp and apathetic. “Can she come sit with me? I am sure if you ask
Commander Gallico, he’ll agree.”
“He isn’t on the ship. I suspect Colonel Naiad is busy also, but I
don’t see any harm in authorizing that request myself. I’ll send
someone for her.”
Kel isn’t on board ?
Her stomach truly began to churn. “Thank you.”
It seemed to be an eternity she lay in a small cubicle, the
surroundings sterile and not conducive to anything but anxiety, she
found. When the thin panel slid back and Tara came in, she
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