Blood Impulse

Part 28.2 - RECRUITED

Polaris Sector, Battleship Singularity

'The Badger has disembarked, Admiral.'

He took that information in stride, now standing outside the quarters granted to Ron Parker. 'Good.'

'I am surprised he did not complain about the subspace receiver.' The ghost found herself puzzled. Merlyn had been so vehement about all the other modifications, but had not contacted anyone with a complaint about that one.

'Likely, he didn't want to confront me again.' And really, who could blame him there? 'I can't say I'd be very understanding if he threw me against the wall a second time.'

'Believe me,' she promised coldly, 'he wouldn't have gotten that far.'

There was a darkness in that he knew he should address, but he could hardly blame her when such darkness was common to him. Had their roles been switched, had Merlyn gone after her instead, he never would have made it off the ship alive, so really, the Admiral was in no position to hand out a lecture.

Soon enough, all this business would be behind them. He'd be on a mission with just his ship and her crew. Nothing would please him more. All the intricacies of adopting a somewhat unwilling fleet were exhausting. There were too many near-hostile factors, Hawkins and Merlyn to name only two when another few thousand sat out in the fleet, fixated on the ugliness of the past.

But then, the conversation he was heading into likely wouldn't be any friendlier. Still, he raised his fist and knocked crisply on the door, knowing the metal would carry the sound through the room beyond.

Hearing the knock, Ron opened the door with a smile, expecting to find Amelia and the kids. Met instead with the ship commander's neutral blue stare, the smile fell from his face. Given the threat leveled during their last encounter, Ron doubted this was a courtesy call. He swallowed, "Is there something I can do you, Admiral?"

"That remains to be seen," the Admiral answered calmly. "But I do believe we are overdue for a conversation. One perhaps best held not in the corridor?"

"Yes," Ron jumped, "Please, come in." Truly, it was a wonder the man waited for permission to enter any room on his own ship. If Reeter had ever bothered to knock, he would have shouldered his way in without prompting for permission.

But this wasn't Reeter. The way his shoulder twinged from his recent stab wound reminded Ron that much.

Habitually, Ron closed the hatch behind him, the drilled instinct of working on a military ship kicking in. Then, he made his way back into the living area of his quarters. The Admiral was waiting behind the dining table, back to the wall, not to the room. It was the habit of a solider, one he recognized from many of his comrades through the years.

Ron didn't ask what this was about. The sinking feeling in his stomach insisted he already knew, and without a word, the Admiral offered out the folder in his hands.

Taking it, it was identical to the one he and Amelia had pulled from the archives, save whose name was stamped on the tab and the fact it wasn't empty. Ron didn't need to look past the fleet insignia stamped on the cardstock to know what was inside. "How long have you known?"

"Long enough."

It was all Ron could do to be grateful that, for the moment, Anabelle was off with Harrison and Amelia. Knowing they'd been found out would send her into a panic attack. Ron swallowed, "Whatever you want to do to me, do it. But please, don't hurt my daughter."