Disclaimer: obviously none of the characters or specifics belong to me.
Read chapter 5 here.
Chapter 6
Dylan was fed up. Once, three hundred years ago, he'd Captained a crew of over four thousand onboard this ship. Four thousand people. And they'd caused him less headaches, less worry, less problems, than the five under his current command. Who would have thought that a handful of fully trained, adult crewmates could have so many difficulties interrelating?
Tyr had growled at him this morning - growled - when he'd asked the man a simple question about the current state of fire control and any maintenance they might want to run before reaching their destination.
And Beka was distracted all of the time lately, distracted and sloppy, two things he absolutely could not accept in their current situation. He needed them at peak performance for this mission, damn it, and they were acting like spoiled children! He could only assume that the two, once again, had shared one of their less than cordial disagreements, and now couldn't get past it in their professional capacities. Well, he'd be damned before he let this state of affairs continue unabated.
The minute he was in quarters with the door sealed, he called for Rommie. Her hologram materialized before him, hands clasped behind her back in her usual professional posture.
"Yes, Dylan?"
"Tyr and Beka. Do you know anything about their latest tiff?"
She hesitated before answering. Dylan didn't usually question her about the personal relationships of the crew, or what she might know about them. Everyone knew, of course, that Andromeda had sensors in every room, nook, and cranny of the ship, and used them all, except for the crew quarters themselves. She understood that people often wanted a certain amount of privacy, and she wasn't, after all, a voyeur. Most of the time. She didn't like to admit that once or twice recently, she'd secretly watched Dylan sleeping. She didn't know what to do or think about the growing fascination she felt for her Captain. It was uncomfortable, and embarrassing. Human emotions were so complicated.
Still, private conversations often happened in public areas of the ship, but Rommie felt it was her duty to act as if she were unaware of them. She certainly shouldn't discuss them with anyone else. But Dylan was her Captain; she couldn't directly lie to him, either.
"They haven't had any tiff that I know about," she said finally, but Dylan thought he heard an uncertain note in her voice. It was very unlike Rommie to be unsure. He frowned.
"Those two are either laughing and joking together like the oldest and best of friends, or at each others' throats over the latest insulting thing one of them has said or done to the other. I even caught them in the gym once, engaging in what looked like a lot more than the `hand to hand combat' they claimed it to be." He wasn't looking at Rommie when he said that, or he would have seen the way she dropped her eyes to the floor and studied her holographic shoes with apparent fascination. "But I'm not seeing any laughter right now. Are you sure they haven't been fighting?" He looked up. "It's important, Rommie, or I wouldn't ask."
"No, Dylan," she said firmly, this time without hesitation. "Tyr and Beka haven't been fighting. Yet."
"You think they might." It was a statement, not a question.
"Well, they have been...brooding, lately. I think it is building up to a confrontation. I've observed this kind of emotional behavior in people before."
Dylan took a moment to think about that. He valued Rommie's insights and opinions, and while he didn't want to directly interfere into the relationships of his crew if he didn't have to, he didn't like the effect current circumstances were having on Beka. He'd been splitting the piloting duties more between her and Trance, but still, he wanted things back to normal as quickly as possible. Trance was a good pilot, and getting better all of the time, but Beka was better.
"All right. How long do you think they'll go on as they are now? How long before things reach a boiling point?"
Rommie shrugged, again looking uncertain.
"I don't really know, Dylan. Tyr and Beka are both very stubborn personalities, and I don't think either one of them is particularly thrilled at the idea of talking about...their problems right now."
"We don't have the luxury to wait around for them to sort things out. Tyr's insubordination will have to stop, immediately, and Beka needs to concentrate fully on her work." He paused, thinking. "I'll have to talk to them."
"No!" Rommie's instant protest surprised Dylan. He quirked an eyebrow at her, wishing suddenly that he was talking to her avatar instead of her hologram. The avatar responded to emotions in a human manner, and was easier to read because of it. He was beginning to suspect that Rommie knew more about the situation than she was telling.
"Why not?"
"Because...I just don't think Beka would feel comfortable talking to you about it. And Tyr, he's so touchy about intrusions into his private affairs. Maybe if you just give them a little time, they'll sort it out on their own."
"Time is a commodity we don't have, as Trance has informed us so emphatically. If you don't think Beka would talk to me, what about you?"
Rommie looked startled. "M-me? Talk to her about...Tyr?"
Frustrated at the AI's reluctance and a little bit hurt that she was apparently hiding something from him, Dylan threw his hands into the air.
"No! About how to make pancakes! Of course, talk to her about Tyr!"
Rommie looked taken aback. Dylan hardly ever got angry with her. Instantly shamed at his behavior, Dylan took a long steadying breath and rubbed at his temples to ease the headache he'd had all morning. It wasn't Rommie's fault that things weren't going perfectly smooth.
"I'm sorry, Rommie. I didn't mean to shout at you. Please, if you could talk to Beka for me, I would really appreciate it. Maybe you'll even have a suggestion or two to help her solve whatever problem she's having." He smiled at her. "You're always so good with advising me when I need it." When she hesitated again, he leaned forward and smiled his most charming and cajoling smile. "Please, Rommie, for me?"
"I-I'll try, Dylan. I just don't know how much help I can be. Human relationships aren't my fort."
He settled back, instantly relaxed and obviously pleased at her capitulation.
"I know you'll do fine," he said easily. "Maybe just talking it out with someone else will help Beka, and helping Beka deal with it better might make things easier for Tyr, we don't know. If I have to, I'll `intrude into his private affairs', but I'll try to avoid it if at all possible. Thanks, Rommie."
He gave her that smile he used when she'd done something he was particularly proud of or pleased about, and she loved the way it made her feel, as if all it took to brighten her existence was his approval. She knew her avatar on the command deck was suddenly smiling and sunny for no reason at all. It worried her a bit. She didn't want to become so attached to Dylan. He was three hundred years old, true, but that was only because of the stasis he'd been in. He was human; he would eventually die, and someone else would Captain her.
And as quickly as that, her avatar was no longer smiling. Rommie felt like sighing. Yes, human emotions were complicated things, indeed.
On to Part 7