In Nadir's Shadow (The Twilight Years of the Commonwealth, Book One)

Chapter One - Part One

Commander Miron drew the short stone blade across his skin, breathing through the pain as he added a bloody line to the lattice of scars on his chest. A few grey hairs drifted to the floor. Once he finished the cut, he raised the knife, angling it to catch the simulated daylight from the glow panels overhead.

Fifty-seven cuts. Fifty-seven days since Wicked Sisters.

Using a hand towel from the desk underneath his raised bunk, he wiped the blood off his chest and carefully cleaned the blade before sheathing it. He took his royal blue uniform jacket from the hook on the overhead, every part of the tiny cabin within easy reach, and winced at the old ache in his back as he slipped the jacket on. A final glance at the mirror revealed nothing out of order, so he turned and pressed a button on the bulkhead. The door slid open without a sound and he stepped out, making his way through the steel-blue corridors of the heavy raider Tenacious. The harsh smell of chemical finishes chafed his nostrils, a persistent reminder the ship had first departed the dockyard only two weeks prior.

He opened another door and entered Control. The lower body of someone in fleet crew blue protruded from the base of the dormant Master Tactical Display, and several bundles of cables and connectors spilled out from the access panel. Ignoring the scene for the moment, Miron looked around the compartment. Tight-faced officers occupied four of the six command stations spaced evenly in a semi-circle facing the MTD. Master Second Gervasi paced behind them, pausing to berate a talent whose name Miron hadn't yet learned. As she twisted to point at the officer's holographic display projection, Gervasi saw him. The ship's second-in-command spared him only a single venomous glance before looming back over the stone-faced officer to resume her sermon.

Miron squatted down and tugged on the half-buried individual's trouser leg. A muffled voice came from within the device: "Is that you, Miron?"

"It is. What are you doing?"

"Trying to stop my display from switching colors at random."

"I didn't know they changed colors."

"Well, they're not supposed to. It turns out a bright pink display is hard to see. Also nauseating." Two hands grasped the edge of the access port, and Ship Master Borya's wiry, muscled frame slid into view.

"How is your crew?"

Borya sat up and scratched his white beard. "It's coming. They're skilled men and women, the best I've seen in some cases, but only a handful have ever worked together before. Some of them don't even seem to remember how to do that. Gervasi's working over the command crew in shifts, with the simulations. Most of them are learning. Not all. She's been yelling a lot." One corner of his mouth turned up. "More than usual."

Miron's jaw clenched. "They were hand-picked for this, Ship Master. Last-minute replacements aside, this is the best crew in the fleet."

His smile gone, Borya cocked his head. "They are the best crew members in the fleet. If they'd had a chance to train together, maybe I could agree with you."

"No training like real work. You'll have to do better, Borya. We have enough handicaps as it is."

Borya grunted. "I know that. And there is good news. Ludmila says all the engineers are best friends by now, and she's drafted the fleet guards to help with the work. Even Chief Zakhar's down there."

"She's updated you on repairs?"

The sharp voice of Detection Operator Ilari cut off his response. "Contact!" The Ship Master was on his feet and by her side, Miron one step behind. "It only popped up once, sir, but it was solid. Substantial mass and symmetrical shape. When it comes up again I should get an inertia reading."