“We have several reports of crewmen fainting,” Commander Fitzwilliam said. There was an odd note of amusement in his voice, which seemed out of place until he continued. “All, but two of the reporters also fainted.”
Ted nodded, then looked down at his console as the reports flowed in from all over the ship — both ships. Spacers were used to normal jumps, but this one had been unusually violent, although no one was quite sure why. Perhaps it explained, he decided, why the aliens were so lax about chasing the human ships through the tramlines. Their drives reacted poorly when asked to jump at speed.
“Check the aliens,” he ordered. Was it possible that they were stunned… or dead? “How did they handle the jump?”
“They seem fine, sir,” Major Parnell reported, two minutes later. “But clearly a little agitated.”
Ted nodded. Clearly, the aliens had sensed the jump… but they hadn't suffered any real ill effects. Were they experienced spacers, then, or were the aliens actually less inclined to be harmed by the jump?
“Understood,” he said, finally. “Keep an eye on them.”
He keyed his console, linking directly to Anderson. The Chief Engineer and a third of his staff had taken up permanent residence on the alien ship, despite the doctor’s warnings that they still couldn't guarantee that the environment was safe. Anderson sounded tired, but very happy when he answered the call.
“The jump functioned as advertised,” he said. “If we lose the alien Puller Drive next time, sir, we will probably still be able to devise our own version.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ted said. He looked at the new star system on the display, his eyes tracking the four tramlines leading out of it and back towards human space. Two of them were useless without the alien drive. “Can we jump again?”
“I think so,” Anderson said. “We only need three more jumps to get us back to Earth.”
Ted shook his head in disbelief. Three more jumps… when it had taken nine to reach New Russia from Earth. They’d be jumping through the scene of their first successful engagement, he saw, as the helmsman plotted out the series of jumps. Three more jumps…
“The sooner we duplicate this system, the better,” he said, flatly. “We need it for ourselves.”
“I never expected to survive,” Rose said.
Kurt nodded. She'd come to his office… but instead of making love to him at once she'd sat down, twisting her hands in her lap. Oddly, he found himself torn between relief and disappointment. He might have cheated on his wife, but he wasn’t going to deny that the sex had been great. But really… what kind of future could Rose and he have, even if he left Molly for her? He was old enough — almost — to be her father. He’d be old and gray long before her.
“Nor did I,” he said. He swallowed. It was time to act the mature adult. “Rose… what do you actually want from me?”
“I don't know,” Rose confessed. “I want you and I don’t want you and I don't want to hurt your children and yet I don’t care if they get hurt…”
It took Kurt a moment to untangle her words and understand just how conflicted she was. “I understand why you came to me,” he said, carefully. “I wasn't only experienced” — Rose gave him a look that told him precisely where he could shove his experience — “but I was also safe.”
“Most starfighter pilots are selfish,” Rose said. “You weren't selfish.”
Kurt almost pointed out that Rose had been having an affair with one, which had resulted in her assignment to Ark Royal, but stopped himself just in time. It would have been thoughtlessly cruel to say something like that to anyone, particularly someone who had lost the lover in question soon afterwards. Survivor’s Guilt had probably played a big role in Rose’s decision to find someone else as quickly as possible.
And you are not blameless, he told himself, shortly. You didn't say no when she took off her top, did you?
Rose had been more than a little selfish herself, he acknowledged, but he hadn't been much better. No, he corrected himself ruthlessly, he hadn't been better at all. He’d made love to her despite having a family back on Earth, a family that would be torn apart by his betrayal… and it was a betrayal. Perhaps he could have sat down with Molly and talked their way through their problems, sharing blame as well as responsibility to find a resolution. Who knew — maybe they’d separate, but stay close for the sake of the kids.
And that might be tricky, he thought. Because you certainly didn't consult with Molly before finding someone else…
“I was,” Kurt said. Rose gave him an uncomprehending look. She was young and far too used to the immature idiocy of starfighter pilots who knew they could die at any second. It would be years before she gained the perspective that would show her that love wasn't just about sharing a bed, but sharing an entire life. “I could have told you to fuck off.”
A faint smile ghosted over Rose’s cheeks. “No man has ever said that to me,” she said, deadpan. Someone her age would have missed the pain hidden under the boasting. “And I’d bet that none ever will.”
“Probably not,” Kurt said. He cursed himself mentally, then looked up at her, trying not to imagine her body under her flight suit. It would be so easy, he knew, to pull her to him… and he was certain she wouldn't object. His cock twitched at the thought. But it would send the wrong message. “Rose…”
He leaned forward. “What we did, when we thought we would both die, was wrong.”
“I didn't notice you objecting,” Rose pointed out, snidely.
“I didn't,” Kurt said. “And if I’d known we would return to Earth, I would have objected strongly. But I didn't know.”
He pressed on, remorselessly. “I have a wife and children as well as a career,” he added. “You have a career, a career that has already been dented by one affair. And… I don't know how you feel about me, but I am not a good choice for you over the long term.”
Rose looked down at the deck. “Are you going to report me? Report us?”
Kurt shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. The report would destroy both of their careers, even if they were heroes — and rich heroes at that, if the prize money came through as expected. They would probably be permanently beached or dishonourably discharged. And, in his case, it would probably cost him his marriage too.
“No,” he said, when he could finally form words. “But I am not going to make love to you anymore.”
He’d expected anger, he’d expected a shouting match… but she responded with a calm sadness that worried him. As CAG, it was his duty to counsel any of pilots who required counselling -- he might have lacked training, but at least he wasn't an idiot psychologist — yet his relationship with her was hopelessly compromised. He couldn't play her father or a senior officer when they’d had sex countless times. And who could Rose talk to who wouldn't betray her confidences?
“I understand,” she said, quietly.
She stood, gave him a brief and formal hug, then turned and marched out of his quarters as if she were passing out on parade. Kurt watched her go, torn between calling her back and letting her go — and, perhaps, asking the doctor to speak to her. The doctor would keep secrets unless they threatened the integrity of the crew.