CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: EAN LAMBERT
“I think you should run the training today,” Ean told Hernandez and Fergus. He thought about including Rossi, who was there as well, but that was something to keep in reserve. Right now, having Rossi listening from the sidelines was just as good.
“Can’t take the pressure?” Rossi asked.
“No.”
Sometimes, with a short answer like that, Rossi would go for the jugular. Today, he just sniffed. “Radko’s a long time coming back, isn’t she.”
And sometimes he simply attacked from a different angle. Then, so could Ean.
“I’m glad you’re missing her, too, Rossi.”
Rossi’s eyes narrowed.
“You must be. You keep talking about her.”
“It’s nice to see you get in a hit occasionally,” Bhaksir said, approvingly, as Rossi turned away.
Rossi probably did miss Radko. She was strong enough to stand up to him, and Rossi had to respect that. Maybe he should work with Rossi to get rid of Sattur Dow.
As if.
Although if Rossi could be persuaded, it was to his advantage.
“If you’re making plans” — from Rossi — “you shouldn’t do it in a room full of raw linesmen in the middle of line training.”
Ean turned his attention back to the lesson, where Peters was complaining that now they had a seven running the training.
Hernandez, who was a ten, but still wore the seven bars she’d been certified with, bared her teeth. “If you think you can do better, why not come up and do it?”
Ean made his way to the front.
“And not just a seven,” Peters said. “Aided by a linesman’s assistant.”
One of his companions nudged him. Ean heard through the lines the quiet warning Peters’s friend gave him. “Fergus Burns is Jordan Rossi’s assistant.”
Hernandez seized on the silence that followed. “Line one,” and started greeting the lines.
Ean moved to stand with one foot raised back against the wall. He couldn’t do it for long. Radko did it for hours. What was Radko doing now? Who was she working with and did she like them as a team?
Did she ever think about him?
Peters started arguing again.
This was something Ean had to control. Even though Sale had hinted, the previous night, that they would take care of it for him if he needed them to.
“Linesman Peters.” He used Gospetto’s training to increase the sound, and pushed it out through the lines as well. “If you have issues, bring it up with me and your commanding officer outside of the scheduled training sessions. There’s a war on, and the sooner you learn these new techniques, the sooner you will become useful to the New Alliance. Don’t hold everyone else back because you don’t like what you’re doing.”
The lines on all ships on both fleets joined in, for Ean hadn’t stopped to target the Gruen lines only. It was so strong that all the trainees stepped back. And, of course, all the captains checked to see what was happening.
“I’m holding us back?” Peters said. “What about what we were promised? We were promised alien ships, but we’re stuck here on a piece of Gate Union junk.”
The captain of that piece of “junk” was listening in right now. Peters had just made himself an enemy.
“You’re not going anywhere until you learn correct line technique.”
“Correct line technique. That’s a joke.”
Nadia Kentish said, “So we come all this way off our own ships—at great inconvenience to us—and we won’t even get to see the alien ships.”
“I didn’t say that.” Of course they would introduce them to the ships, and most of them would end up as crew. “But no one, especially not me, will take unwilling linesmen onto a ship that uses lines like the alien ships do.” For their own benefit, rather than the ships’. “I’m not taking you anywhere until you show some appreciation of the lines.”
“You’re not taking us.” That was Peters again. “Who made you the arbiter of what we can do and can’t do?”
“The New Alliance council,” Rossi said, before Ean could say anything. “They made Lambert senior linesman. All line matters go through him, particularly anything to do with the Department of Alien Affairs.” He glanced at his comms. “And most of us have better things to do than sit around making power grabs.”
It quietened them, although Ean wasn’t sure it helped. Wasn’t sure it was meant to. It definitely gave them more to complain about though at least they did it quietly. Except, of course, Ean heard muttered comments through the lines.
“The Department of Alien Affairs is controlled by Lancia.”
“Jordan Rossi should be the senior linesman.”
“They’re using a junior to train us.”
He made a point of moving over and standing close to each mutterer, to listen to their singing.
Hernandez continued with the greetings.
In the middle of the trainees’ chorused reply, one of the Confluence fleet ships joined in. A song of welcome.
They usually restricted training to the Eleven fleet.
First, the Confluence itself tried to choose its own crew, now this ship was doing its own thing. Ean checked which one it was. That one, the little scout right on the edge of the fleet. Scout Ship Three.
Ean changed his song to target that specific ship. The lines answered, happy at the attention. Happy to be getting visitors.
“Visitors?” Ean heard air being cycled out of the shuttle bay on the scout, then being cycled back in.
A shuttle had landed.
“Who?”
“Lines.” And there were lines. Ean could hear them as they made their way onto the ship. The single-level linesman from the Factor’s trip to the Eleven. Another single. Plus a third with the characteristic sound of a trained, multilevel linesman.
Ean sang the lines open to the fleet ships. The Eleven, the Lancastrian Princess, the Wendell, the Gruen, and the Confluence. “Someone has boarded a scout ship.” He pushed the image up onto the main screens of each bridge.
“Do we know who?” Captain Helmo asked.
On the scout ship the boarders were using in-suit comms to talk to each other. That was line five. Ean pushed the comms through as well.
“Never mind. Anyone know Redmond?” for there was a distinctive uptrill at the end of each sentence.
The Lancastrian Princess and the Gruen both nudged Ean. “That sound you were looking for.”
“Thanks.” Wasn’t it obvious he was already listening?
“That is too advanced for these trainees,” Hernandez said.
Ean blinked at her.
“How long?” Helmo asked the other captains.
“Four hours for me,” Kari Wang said.
“Five.” “Five point six,” from Wendell and Gruen. Wendell’s navigator was already calculating the fastest way.
“And six for me,” Helmo said. “Can they jump the ship, Ean?”
“I don’t think so.” And Ean said to the ship, “Don’t let them take you away from the fleet.” He changed the tune to talk specifically to line eight on the scout and on the Confluence. “You’ll keep the ship safe.”