The woman grimaced. “I’ll manage. A bit dazed.”
A bit? Yeah, right.
Sloane detoured to the first-aid panel, mercifully intact in this oddly untouched chamber, and found a kit with packets of medi-gel safely tucked inside. Once back at Addison’s side, she popped the seal and slathered the cool gel on Addison’s forehead. “This should help.”
Addison grimaced, eyes clenched shut again. “Not one for bedside manners, I take it.”
“No bed,” Sloane pointed out as she sat back and removed her own boot. “No doctors, no point.” She dabbed the gunk on her throbbing, swollen toe, then packed the gel all around it for extra cushion.
“Ugh.”
Sloane ignored the woman, waited several seconds for the pain-dampening effects to kick in. It still hurt to pull her boot back on, but not nearly as bad as before. “Okay. Niceties over.” When she looked up, Addison had managed to stand upright, though braced against a pod.
She surveyed the room, then frowned shakily at Sloane. “Should you be in here?”
That, Sloane decided, was probably concussion talking. It was too inane to be anything else. She ignored that, too. “Where are the others? Garson?” Sloane glanced around a second time just to be sure. Every stasis pod in the room stood empty. Contrary to her thin hopes.
Addison squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, her gaze seemed a little less cloudy. The gel on her forehead was already turning matte, sealing the wound. “We were all up in Operations. For…” She shook her head a fraction, like she had to shake the thought loose. “For the arrival.”
The arrival. Awakened for the arrival.
The news felt unreal against the chaos surrounding it. “So…” Sloane stared at her. “We made it?”
The injured woman nodded, opened her eyes. “We did.”
“What the hell happened, then? Attack?”
Addison went still. Then, as if suddenly putting two and two together, fixed a concerned stare on Sloane. “Who are you? You look familiar.”
Two and two, Sloane thought in irritation, clearly added to five. “Security Director Sloane Kelly,” she said patiently. “We’ve met.”
“Ah. Security. Of course you’d jump to that conclusion, then.” She coughed, closed her eyes once more. Two fingers pressed around the swollen flesh of her wound. The gel was probably already kicking in to numb the area. Sloane’s toe had settled to a whimper. As had her hands. “Let’s not assume an attack,” the woman continued. “We didn’t come here to war with whomever we find here.”
“Yeah, yeah, peaceful and friendly, I know the speech. Doesn’t mean the locals heard it.” T’vaan hadn’t agreed, though. She’d died believing there was no attack, died in Sloane’s arms talking about some kind of sensor issue. Sloane frowned. “So what did happen?”
This time, Addison’s voice cracked. “No idea. But,” she continued more forcefully, “we should go check.”
Sloane debated leaving her behind, but decided against it. If Operations had fared as badly as cryostasis, she’d need all the help she could get. She offered the woman a supporting hand. “Can you walk?”
Addison gave a shaky nod, and ignored Sloane’s proffered hand to take the first unsteady steps away from her support.
She didn’t fall over, so Sloane let her offer drop. She did, however, make sure she matched the Director’s pace within steadying distance. Just in case.
They walked in relative silence for a moment. As Sloane eyed the woman’s straight back, a thought occurred to her. “Why weren’t you in Ops?”
Addison shot her a glance. “I’d just left it to find Jien.”
“Find Jien?” By sheer reflex, she grabbed the woman’s arm. “She’s alive?”
“At last check,” she replied, but frowned in bemusement at Sloane’s hand. “Before official launch of arrival protocols, the science team wanted to nail down final readings. Jien had just stepped out, so when we were ready, I went to get her.”
“No comms?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t see the need.”
Sloane jerked a thumb back the way they’d come. “You thought she’d be in there?”
This time, her fellow director looked away, pulling her arm from Sloane’s grasp. “Uh, no. I stopped in there for a sec.”
“Why?”
“I had to use the… restroom.”
Sloane frowned. “What, they didn’t set up facilities near Ops?”
The woman stared straight ahead, though Sloane saw the tic in her suddenly set jaw. “Don’t be rude about it, Director,” she said tightly.
Defensive, much? “Sorry, Director, are my questions bothering you?”
Addison shot her another glance, this one cool. “Unless they’re leading to an epiphany or an accusation involving malevolent biological functions, maybe focus on what’s important?”
Ugh. That’s right. Sloane remembered exactly why she hadn’t bothered making an effort with the Colonial Director. Attitude for days.
Sloane smiled tightly. “Sure.” Her gaze turned instead to the corridors they strode through. They were much neater. Much less, well, torn apart than the ones she’d left. “So, did you find Garson?”
Addison shook her head, though grudgingly. “I was heading back to see if she’d returned when the whole ship lurched. It was like hitting turbulence in an atmospheric flight, only far worse. The floor actually fell away from me and I think I hit my head on the way up… or maybe down. I don’t really remember.”
The asari had said something about physics. Sloane had been in spacedrops that felt like that. Maybe that’s what she meant?
She filed that away, too. Right now, she had too many puzzle pieces and no final image. “While in Operations, did you see anything that might explain it?”
“You mean like, what, alien soldiers rappelling in through the windows?”
“I’d assume you’d see that much,” Sloane replied thinly. “If you were at your post.”
That turned Addison’s shoulders rigid. “There was nothing of the sort. No ships, no attack fleet, nothing you can shoot, Security Director Kelly. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
Sloane turned on her, irritation spiked. “We’re in a lot of trouble here, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’d appreciate straight answers, delivered instantly, and less judgment about my role on this ship.” Her tone, icy as it was, earned her a widened stare. “So what I mean by anything,” she finished curtly, “is anything. Sensor data. Unexpected debris in our path. Giant fucking space monsters. Anything.”
Foster Addison did not tell her to fuck off. The woman held her ground, but Sloane could see that the rebuke stung.
Good.
Almost good. She lifted her blood-streaked chin.
“No need for sarcasm, Director.” Punching her, Sloane reasoned, wouldn’t help anything. And would be a total overreaction.
Lucky for her.
Addison forged on. “We were in the right place. The stellar neighborhood matched our nav charts. There was… concern, perhaps, among the science advisors about some of their readings. They figured six hundred years might have worn down the tech a bit. Wanted some time to untangle the array and parse the data. That’s when I left to—”
“To take a leak.”
“To find Jien,” she corrected frostily.
“Without the readings?”
Addison threw up her hands. “For pity’s sake, nobody needs outward sensors to use internal facilities. Now, how about we do less interrogation of perfectly natural events, if you please, try to get some actual answers.” She gestured for Sloane to lead the way to the door, and beyond.
Fine. It beat speculating with a concussed social worker, anyway.