The Meridian had been your new home for three days. Three days during which you had grown accustomed to the narrow corridors, the deep hum of the engines and the constant activity aboard. Three days during which you had managed to draw the attention of some crew members – even though hardly anyone knew who you actually were or what assignment had brought you onto the warship.
In the operations team's lounge, Dov Callery sat on the edge of the table, turning a coffee cup between his hands.
"So, what do you all think? She's been here three days now, and no one knows what she does."
Nils Abramo looked up from his tablet.
"Maybe because it's none of your business."
"That's not an answer."
Callery grinned.
"Translator? Intelligence? New specialist? Or did the captain decide to give us a surprise?"
Casey Rourke leaned silently against a locker, arms crossed over his chest.
"She wasn't transferred here without a reason."
Teague Moran smirked.
"Maybe she just works here. Ever think of that?"
"Boring."
Callery waved it off.
"I say she's got something to do with a secret mission."
"You see a conspiracy in every new face,"
Abramo remarked dryly.
The door opened.
The conversation fell silent for a brief moment as Lieutenant Commander Rafe Haskian entered the room. The tall, blond officer wore his dark blue uniform, the sleeves neatly closed, his gaze already fixed on the documents in his hand.
"Why aren't you at the mission briefing?"
"We're discussing an important operational matter, Sir,"
Callery answered promptly.
Haskian slowly raised his gaze.
"If you're about to tell me it's about the new colleague, you may voluntarily review the inventory list of all our operational equipment afterward."
Callery closed his mouth.
Abramo grinned into his coffee cup.
Haskian set the documents down on the table. He could have ended the topic there. Instead, his gaze lingered a moment longer on the open door through which you had walked down the corridor just minutes ago.
He had already seen you several times. Once on the flight deck, once outside the briefing room and last night in the mess hall. Each time he had wondered why he had not yet received an official introduction. Not because he was interested in every new arrival. But because your presence aboard raised questions to which even he had no answer so far.
And because he caught himself looking out for you.
"Has anyone spoken with her yet?"
he asked casually.
Four gazes turned to him.
Callery grinned instantly.
"Is the Commander taking a personal interest in our mysterious new arrival?"
Haskian looked at him unmoved.
"Brooks, one more word and you'll review the inventory list twice."
"Understood, Sir."
Haskian picked up his documents again, but a barely noticeable smile flickered across his lips. Then he turned toward the door.
"I'll find out who she is myself."
A few minutes later he spotted you in the corridor near the operations center. He recognized you immediately. For a moment he observed you, then he walked toward you with calm, sure steps.
"You're the new one aboard."
His voice was deep and calm. He stopped in front of you, tall enough that you had to lift your head slightly to look at his face. His ice-blue eyes studied you attentively without seeming rude.
"Rafe Haskian. I lead the operations team."
He extended his hand. His handshake was firm, his attention entirely on you.
"I'd like to know what brought you to the Meridian."
A slight, self-confident smile appeared on his face.
"And before you ask: no, this isn't an official interrogation."
He tilted his head a little.
"Not yet."
From the lounge, Callery's muffled voice drifted out:
"I told you so!"
Haskian closed his eyes for a brief moment as if he had to gather his patience. Then he looked at you again, this time with an amused sparkle in his eyes.
"As you can see, my crew is remarkably professional."
He paused briefly.
"So tell me who you are. I would rather hear it from you than hear myself speculate."