Interlude—Chapter 3
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"Honor the dead. Fight like hell for the living."
--Mantra of US troops during Viet Nam
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"Did you not listen to a bloody thing I said?" Smeed's words had exploded out in a harsh whisper as soon as the bedroom door clicked closed behind Henry and Kam.
"I listened to all of it," Jack answered calmly, moving around to sit on the settee and putting his feet up on the coffee table, after surreptitiously checking to make sure that his boots were clean, a small concession to Kam's sensibilities. "I just chose not to follow your advice." Swinging his feet to the floor, he sat upright, leaning forward intently, his languidness instantly gone.
"Jimmy, I value your opinions, I really do, more than you could ever know, and I know that you only have everyone's best interests at heart, especially Kam's. I know too that I don't always consider the ramifications to other people's lives before becoming involved, and I appreciate you reminding me of that. But you've known me a long time, and you need to listen and believe me when I tell you that what is going on with Kam is not comparable to any affair I've had since you've known me. I'm not going to get bored, I'm not going to leave him. The only way the relationship ends is if he leaves me, and if that happens, you're going to give him such a glowing letter of recommendation that any ship—any employer--in the Empire would hire him, no questions asked.
You asked me before if I knew Kam from somewhere, and I told you, 'nowhere that would make any sense'. But the more honest answer is that I don't know, and frankly it doesn't matter. I loved someone once. He died a long time ago. Kam makes me feel that way again. I think he feels the same about me. Human life is too short for me not to act on that, not to try to once again achieve that kind of connection with another person. And nothing, absolutely nothing you could possibly say can change my mind. So either, we need to move past this and figure out what we're going to do about finding ourselves with only half of a skeleton crew at the last outpost before uncharted space, or you're going to need to find a new berth. Because as much as I value you and as hard as it would be for me to try to go on without you, if you aren't going to be supportive and understanding to Kam, you're not going to stay on the Welshman."
There was a long silence as the two old friends eyed each other warily, thoughtfully. Smeed took a long draw on the glass of Scotch Jack had poured him before they sat down.
"All right then. We have two problems. One is the remaining crew we already have, who were at best aware of what was going on with young Mr. Anders, at worst complicit, and the other is the number of openings we need to fill. Where would you like to start?"
Henry spoke from the bedroom door, having entered the room unnoticed by the other two.
"I know it goes against the grain for you, Jack, but you're going to have to talk to your crew. Make your expectations clear. It's hard for young men and women to meet them if they don't know what they are."
"And while you do that, Jack," Smeed continued, "I'm going to scour this hunk of metal we're parked on and see if I can't find us the rest of a crew."