Page 223 of Every Almost

It wasn’t lost on Charlie that an admiral of an intergalactic organization had just credited a non-contact species being with doing something right in a world that Charlie Wickett should never have known.

“Captain,” Vondra went on. “I have a report in front of me. I understand now that it is laced with certain errors. I will expect the corrected version in writing, with the correct attribution, before the end of the cycle.” The water shifted, slow and deliberate. “And I will be noting, in my own record, that a seniorofficer of this fleet attempted to present another crew member’s work as his own, to me, directly. That notation does not get corrected in writing. It stays.”

“Understood, Admiral. You’ll have the corrected version, I guarantee it.” Reyna took a moment. “And your note is acknowledged.”

“Good.” A single beat rippled through the office with a frequency that could have been almost gentle. And it was aimed directly at Charlie. “Excellent work today, Wickett.”

Then the display went dark, and the office was just an office again. Cael stood in the middle with nowhere to go without drawing attention to himself.

“Leave us, Cael,” Reyna ordered.

He didn’t argue or say a single word. Instead, he just left; the door of the Captain’s office closing behind him.

“Well, that was quite a show,” Tavi said. Charlie smiled at him.

“That was ludicrous,” Maren stated. Then she looked over at Reyna. “Sorry, Captain.”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re right. It was ludicrous.”

Charlie listened to her friends and exhaled. The adrenaline was fading, but what remained was instinctual anger.

“Tavi, we should go and mark those logs before Cael tries to lock them,” Maren said.

“Yeah,” Tavi replied, looking at Charlie, then over to Reyna. “Good plan.”

“Thank you, Maren. Tavi,” Reyna said.

“Good job, Spark Plug,” Tavi said as he walked out the door beside Maren. “You did good.”

Charlie smiled at Tavi as he left the office, the door closing behind him and Maren.

Reyna walked over to her desk and stood behind it, her eyes on the surface. She began tapping against the data screen, refusing to look up at Charlie.

“What I can’t believe,” Charlie said, causing Reyna to look up at her. Charlie would not let silence overwhelm the frustration rising like bile in her stomach. “Is that he did all of that in front of the Admiral,” Charlie paused. “He’d rather Vondra think he’s a liar than let it be your ship’s win with my name on it.”

Reyna stared at her. Charlie took it as a sign to continue to speak freely.

“He never would have been able to answer her,” Charlie whispered, almost in awe of the audacity Cael Rask had against his own captain. “He wouldn’t have been able to answer a single one of those questions. And he was just going to stand here, in your office of all places, and give the Coalition a version of that rescue he didn’t even understand, wasn’t he? And just, hope nothing came from it?”

Reyna only continued to look at Charlie, her gaze felt unbreakable. But Charlie continued.

“And the second the Admiral pushed on it, it came apart exactly like it just did.” Charlie’s voice stayed level, but the edges of it were hot. Her anger had reached a boiling point, because it was suddenly clear the double-ended sword Cael carried into this whole dastardly plan.

“He wasn’t just taking from me. Cael was going to do this from your office, under your leadership, with your sign-off as genuine. And then, when he eventually would fuck up and provide incorrect data on this project, causing it all to go to shit, his plan was just going to let all of it land onyou?”

Reyna stood very still, but Charlie wouldn’t break. She held Reyna’s gaze, fire burning in veins. Charlie felt her chest began to rise and fall.

“Yes,” Reyna said quietly, simply. “He was.”

Charlie didn’t move. Her eyes stayed on Reyna, doing everything in her power not to walk out of that office and tell Cael what she really thought of him. Instead, she said something small. But it held conviction. “That’s not okay.”

Reyna continued to stare back at her, and after a few moments, spoke again. “No, it’s not.”

They looked at each other across the desk. And suddenly, something moved between them, quick and unasked. In a single moment, everything tipped at once, away from Cael and the rescue, and fell headfirst into what Charlie was learning was becoming impossible to avoid. It seemed to have taken them both over, before either of them could refuse. The silence held a beat too long.

Reyna closed her eyes as she drew a breath, small and finite, but measured and effected. Charlie watched her so closely, watched as Reyna opened her eyes again and locked on Charlie. Her eyes became something strong, vivid, and grasping. And for that single, individual moment, Charlie watched Reyna look at her.

Charlie realized she knew that look. She knew it because she had been wearing it for months, trying to hide it and failing miserably, attempting to haul it off her own face every time she caught herself aiming it at the captain across the Engineering Bay, or the galley, or the god damn bench in the Observation Room. She knew the exact amount of work it took to keep it from showing.