Guy waited for me in the corridor outside my quarters.

"Captain."

I stared, wondering if I could trust him after his last attack. "Delnot."

"I'm here to check up on you, Sir."

I kept staring at him, wondering what the flaming clutter he meant. "After that stunt you pulled earlier?"

He blushed. He actually blushed. "Sorry, Captain. It won't happen again. I keep my word. I'd like to think you'll keep yours, but..." He shook his head once, dismissing what he'd been about to say. "Sir, from here on out I'm nothing more than your soldier. Put me where you will."

I frowned, sifting through his words for the slightest hint of flirtation. Try as I might, I couldn't find a single inappropriate word or gesture. I still knew, somehow, he wanted to follow me into my bedroom. With a suppressed start I realized the knowledge of his desires didn't come from anything he'd done, but from the tiny Guy in my head. I'd linked us, and that meant he knew exactly how much his face distracted me.

My face warmed, and he flinched. "I'm sorry, sir. If I've said or done anything inappropriate, I apologize. I just meant to help. You've been under a lot of pressure, and it's the ship's Doctor's job to make sure the Captain isn't pushing herself too hard."

I shook my head. "I push as hard as I have to, Delnot. If that's too hard, I'll pay for it later."

"That's what I'm afraid of, sir."

"What?"

"You'll push and push and when all is said and done, there won't be any... you... left over."

I stared at him, trying to figure out whether to be offended or touched. In the end, I just didn't have the mental energy for either. I nodded to him and pushed past, through the door of my room.

"I'm taking a break from command now, Delnot."

"But not getting rest."

"Plenty of time for rest when the 'Sects are all dead."

***

I stepped into my room. The door slid shut behind me, surrounding me with the blessed solitude of cacophony. Here, in my quarters, surrounded by the fragmented pieces of my ship, my captain, and my doctor, I could finally be alone. Except for the dozen or so tiny simulacra in the back of my mind, reminding me of the crew I'd lost, the crew still counting on me.

I flopped into my bunk, fully dressed. I couldn't let myself sleep. I could rest my body while I sorted out the tangled mess inhabiting the circuits around my cabin, but I didn't have time to sleep.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd had time for myself. Definitely not since I'd woken up in the stasis pod. The night before? No, that night I'd spent doing what the doctor told me, trying to make peace with my parents, with the memories they'd left as their only legacy to their Blank daughter. I still didn't know whether I had, or whether events had distracted me. A grim smile crept across my face; command might kill me millimeter by millimeter, but at least I didn't have time to mope.

Thoughts of command dragged me to my feet. Piece by piece I stripped off my uniform, tiny bits of acceleration gel dribbling off as I did. I wondered for a moment how I'd gotten away with so little ground into my dress whites.

Judicious application of your skin field after you left the bridge.

Before I could criticize my essie for wasting power, an image popped up in front of my eyes, comparing the amount of power to push the stains out of my uniform the way they had with the amount the laundry would use to get the same stains out. They silenced my argument before it started with a single word.

Morale.

They were right. I dropped my clothes into the chute that would deliver them to the laundry, then pulled on my sweats. Moving my limbs without powered assist might not project the image I needed to show to my crew, but here in the privacy of my quarters I couldn't help but do every little bit to save power.

I fell into bed. Before I could focus on the writhing maelstrom above me, my essie prodded me one more time.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Your physiology no longer requires sleep, but your psychology still does.

"I'll sleep when I'm flaming ready, when everyone aboard this ship is flaming safe, and the cluttered 'Sects have choked to death on their own mandibles. Understood?"

I took my essie's lack of reply as assent. I focused once more on the swirling mixture of memories around me. A waft of scent here, an echo of a voice there, a glimpse of an upturned face; they pulled me in until, finally, just before the sensations swept me up into them, a single coherent phrase trickled into my mind.

I'm sorry, Dustie, I won't be there to wake you.

I lost my grip on myself, and the maelstrom swept me away.

***

I leaned against the cold bulkhead, listening to the last waking thoughts of the poor confused girl I'd just put to sleep. With the ease of long practice, I swept my senses over the emotions of those nearest me. This deep into the ship, this close to battle, not many remained, but those who did radiated the eager intensity of Imperial Marines readying for a fight. The only exceptions stood in stasis pods just a few meters down the corridor. The stasis gel hadn't put Guy Delnot under completely. Not surprising in a telepath of his strength, but I still pitied him. Alone, in the dark, his only distractions were the minds which flickered through his range. Of course, that meant a lot more minds than it would for me. I wasn't even strong enough to properly gauge his potential, let alone know what he could or couldn't do.

The other exception concerned me more. I'd never done more than brush against the surface of Tomas Quick's mind, but even that brief contact left me aching from trying to keep up with him. If Guy was a Dragon, able to break the bonds of his own mind and soar free, Tomas was a Juggernaut, chained to the ground of his skull, but with frightening power and speed within those limitations. The stasis gel hadn't shut Tomas down completely, but I sensed the tsunami of thoughts I'd detected before had slowed to a mere trickle. I dared a small probe into the surface of his thoughts.

Tomas, can you hear me?

His reply only heightened my impressions, both of his drugged stupor and of his normal speed.

Yes, Doctor.

I sent a wave of reassurance coupled with my next words, hoping not to spark a panic where none yet existed.

Are you all right? Do I need to pull you out of the pod?

Again, he surprised me; his answer held all the calm of one of the Zen masters I'd trained with to hone my own self-control.

No, Doctor. I'll be fine. I've been needing some quiet time to think about some things. This will do nicely.

I considered my next words carefully, given his minority status.

I'd like to form a link to your mind, so you can get my attention if you need it. I may not have time to contact your guardian and return. Do you understand what I want to do?

Yes, Doctor.

Do I have your consent?

Yes, Doctor.

I focused on his mind, memorizing every piece I could. His depth surprised me, taking more time than I'd expected. Layers upon layers, each focused on a different aspect of his chosen career. I smiled when I realized more than one focused not only on his career, but on one of his fellow Cadets in particular. I wished him well, even knowing he wouldn't have even a ghost of a chance for the next year, at least.

After an unmeasured time, the words 'link complete' flashed in front of my left eye, my essie informing me I had enough information on Tomas to reconnect to him should I need to. In that moment, I envied Guy on many levels. His strength meant he needed less information to reconnect to someone. It also meant he could get that information far faster. Finally, Imperial military children grew up with their essies as constant companions; most civilians knew they had one, in sort of the same way they knew they had a gall bladder, but they talked with it only slightly more often. Most of the time, they did that through the interface of a projected computer screen rather than via straight voice communication. I'd tried direct mental communication and voice communication; in both cases the sound of my own voice used for someone else's words shocked me far too much, so I'd settled on a straight text interface.

I checked my new link to Tomas as I started down the passageway. The Commandant had seen to it I knew my battle station; in Medical, awaiting any psych casualties. Of course, not being officially in the Imperial Services, I didn't have the ingrained habit of obeying my superior officer's commands. I checked on the Captain's position; if she needed me to, I could be another set of hands or another line of communication to some of her troops.

I ran my mind's eye across the serried ranks of links buried in the back of my mind. The Empress herself had let me serve as a Medical officer aboard Tiamat because of my facility with links, and if the Captain thought she'd let that go to waste, she had another think coming. I might not be an Imperial Marine, but I would do my best to stand between the 'Sects and the precious cargo the Empress had entrusted to me.

The first rows held my youngest students, from the Juniors clamoring for their Middie status all the way down to the tiny spark still hiding in the Captain's belly. Behind those lay the Middies, Tomas and Dustie still gleaming from recent contact. To the rear of the masses of links lay the Seniors and Tiamat's crew, all of them excited, eager to tear into the 'Sects.

Far in the back, hidden from view, a few special links lurked. Most of them lay cold, reminders of close family, of dear friends. In that tiny cluster only two glistened with life. One, my spouse, echoed strangely, thoughts forwarded subconsciously through the final link. He worked in one of the civilian areas of Ancalagon, so he never left light-speed communication range of the Empress.

Finally, that last link, one that sparkled with the dangerously captivating light of carefree, coherent madness. The one link where I hadn't been the one to form it, the one where I had no idea how it stayed open across the light centuries from Ancalagon to Tiamat. My link to the Empress herself.