Dwasina Roix was exhausted.

Exhausted, angry, sore, and impatient. While she had put up with Darin Jaroo’s  verbal sparring for a time, her diplomatic veneer had faded to a cracked and tensely strung mask, like a chipped and faded porcelain ready to shatter at the slightest provocation.

The only bit of decency the situation afforded her was that Jaroo had put on his game face, and he was no longer cavalier nor cajoling. He moved with a quiet efficiency, barking directions from time to time and otherwise focusing on the task at hand – get to Mireya VII’s command center. Somehow.

Easier said than done, even with a confident guide. The Vaadwaur had punished Mireya VII with pass after pass of disruptor fire and half of the central connection circuit was on fire – plasma fire – from a direct torpedo blast. Jaroo had been able to reroute some power to strengthen the shields, but most of the systems were offline and the response was sluggish at best. Remote relays were impossible and at one point Jaroo even admitted he should have trusted more people with the command codes.

But he was a pirate working with pirates. It wasn’t incomprehensible that he had difficulty finding people he could trust.

Actually – she found herself glaring at him as they shimmied under a collapsed support beam and her aching legs gave a protest as she crawled across a grated floor, staring at Jaroo’s backside with a venomous intensity.

She broke her fixated gaze for a moment as Ensign Smith called for help. She crouched back down, taking Lieutenant Haynes shoulders and helping to slide her under the debris, supporting her neck gently as Smith maneuvered through and took Yvie back into his arms again. And then it was back to glaring.

Trust. The thing Darin Jaroo obviously didn’t do well, because he utterly failed to trust her. Which might end up being a fatal mistake – and judging from Jaroo’s silent focus – he knew it.

Worse, she had let him get away with it instead of calling him on it. Dwasina had – for a very long time – operated on the assumption that if she could make people feel comfortable and secure that they would open up to her and she would be able to gently, kindly influence them.

But it didn’t work with Mindy Jemison and it didn’t work with Darin Jaroo. In fact a newly transferred security Ensign showed her up in that arena. Smith had called Jaroo out when she had failed to do so. Dwasina didn’t harbor any resentment towards Ensign Smith, but anger bubbled inside her like molten lava ready to burst. And she found it easier to blame Darin Jaroo – and silently direct that bubbling anger towards him – than to blame herself.

If she lived through this, she loathed the thought of being alone, taking a sonic shower alone with her thoughts, and feeling all the guilt and blame she held come crashing down upon her.

She pushed that thought out of her mind and pushed forward.

“We need to make it to that T-junction ahead and go left. As long as there’s no fire we can push through.” Jaroo’s tone was tight and focused, snapping Dwasina out of her reverie.

“And if there’s fire?” She asked in a snappish tone.

He didn’t turn to face her, or even give her tone any consideration. “Preferably we put it out. Otherwise we will have to go around.”

She was no expert on Mireya VII, but if their trip here meant anything around would be a massive detour around one of the mercantile sections. Her expression turned sour as she followed.

The debris strewn hallways were no easy feat to travel through. They were mostly empty of people, though the signs of civilians running away, or perhaps carrying or dragging the injured were clear. Sometimes they passed someone who wasn’t so lucky, mangled limbs and extremities sticking out from under a collapsed bulkhead or charred remains.

This time the misshapen body gasped, and gave out a low moan. Dwasina immediately moved to the fallen civilian’s side, taking out her tricorder.

“Traumatic brain injury, internal bleeding. He could be stabilized…”

“Leave him.” Jaroo cut her off.

She stared at him, incensed. “How the hell can you be so cruel?!”

Darin paused for a moment and turned. “I’m not cruel. I have a job to do and this isn’t it.”

A lava bubble welled up in her throat and popped in an angry outburst. “He’s still alive!”

“Leave him, he will probably die. Stay here, he will certainly die as will everyone else onboard this station.” Jaroo reasoned evenly.

Dwasina did not want to admit that he had all too good of a point. “We can’t leave him.”

“You can stay with the injured if you want. Leave your person here as well. I’ll take the sharp eyed human.”

Ensign Smith paused, still supporting the majority of Lieutenant Haynes’ weight. Bringing Yvie along had slowed them down considerably. Dwasina wanted to argue differently, but every fact was not on her side.

She forced herself to take a breath and consider the situation. And a realization stabbed through her like a knife made of ice to the brain. Darin Jaroo didn’t trust her… and she didn’t trust him.

She never even considered that Jaroo failed to trust her because she failed to trust him from the moment they met.

No time to think about that. This junction was not safe. The marks of internal damage were clear. She sucked her breath through her teeth so sharply that it made a hissing sound as she rose to her feet. “Fine. His death is on your hands.” She spoke in a low tone.

Jaroo shrugged, unbothered. “We’re wasting time.” He started moving forward faster than before, pushing both Dwasina and Smith to the limits of what they could manage – while also escorting Lieutenant Haynes. Her muscles were screaming by the time they reached the T-junction, squinting into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of green fire.

Nothing?

Nothing.

Maybe the first bit of good luck they had all day.

“Come on.” Darin Jaroo urged, moving quickly ahead, checking each section of the hallway. Ensign Smith was now fireman’s carrying Yvie Haynes, and Dwasina stumbled, resting a hand against a bulkhead.

She wanted, desperately, to rest and yet she was too stubborn to admit defeat.

Sighing, she wiped sweat from her brow. She was hot. The air was hot. The bulkhead was hot.

Something in the back of her mind screamed. Some second sense from a decade of serving on spacefaring vessels told her that was bad. And for once she didn’t censor herself. “MOVE!!”

She screamed it as Mireya VII shifted and lurched to one side, sending Darin Jaroo’s all too confident stride tumbling to the ground. The tritanium that held the sections together wailed like a banshee and the whole hallway was pitched into darkness. Dwasina leapt forward, hearing the screech of tearing metal roaring behind her before she was thrown to the deck. She didn’t know how Smith managed it – that kid had some of the best reflexes she had ever seen – but he tucked down, protecting Yvie and braced himself along the bulkhead.

Behind them the ceiling deck came crashing down, sending a shockwave of insulation crystals rolling through the hallway. Dwasina coughed, feeling her lungs burn and her already bruised chest protest with increasing pain.

And then silence.

Yvie moaned.

Jackson Smith soothed her.

And Darin Jaroo got to his feet and swore. Then he lit a handheld torch.

On the ground Dwasina rolled her eyes. Of course, that pirate asshole was fine. That lying, untrustworthy bastard. She let her pit of anger roll through her chest, giving her enough strength to pull herself up. “What now?!” Her voice was harsh and hoarse.

Darin’s torch highlighted one bit of collapsed hallway behind them… and another some ways ahead. The Vaadwaur had wasted no time in bringing Mireya VII to its knees.

Ensign Smith set Yvie down and got to his feet. He was covered with a fine white glitter of insulation crystals, shimmering like a ghost in the lamplight. “We’re blocked in.”

Wordlessly Jaroo started searching the intact bulkheads until he highlighted a grate with his light. “That duct will bypass it. We’re close.”

Standard Orion style ventilation, bigger than some species, but still a tight fit. It looked like a death trap. “And how are we gonna fit in there?” Dwasina challenged.

Jaroo pointed at Lieutenant Haynes. “We leave her.”

“No!” Another bubble burst and her answer was outraged and intense.

Jaroo was unimpressed. “Then we leave you, too.”

“You’re not going there alone!” heat crept into her face, as if the anger was warming her from the inside.

“It’s my station I can go wherever I please.” Darin Jaroo was not going to argue. Even if wherever was extremely constrained by the damage to the station. “But I’m amenable to bringing your Ensign with me.”

Ensign Smith looked between Darin Jaroo and his commanding officer. “I am willing to go, but only on your order, Ma’am.” He said respectfully.

Commander Roix paused for a moment, trying to sail through this tempestuous moment, riding the waves of anger like a ship in a stormy sea. Part of her knew she was being irrational; her attitude wasn’t helping anything. And yet she clung to that emotion and one more hot bubble burst through her mouth. “I don’t trust him!”

Ensign Smith fixed her with a considerate gaze. “I do trust him, Ma’am.”

“How?” She questioned all too quickly for it to be rational.

He paused before he answered. It gave Commander Roix time to breathe. Time to think. Time to realize what she said. “He has not shown us hostility. He has offered honest ways to get us out of this situation as soon as it turned dangerous. We turned them down. He is protecting something he cares about, I am willing to help.”

She opened her mouth, fire brimming behind her eyes. But it had been just long enough of a pause for her to reconsider. To refocus herself. To feel the weight of her three pips and her responsibility. To push aside her anger and use her empathy to sense what others were feeling, not just herself.

She looked into Jackson Smith’s sincere expression. Felt the respect and earnest behind his words imprinting on her empathy.

Maybe, just because she couldn’t read someone’s mind didn’t mean they were untrustworthy. She closed her mouth and closed her eyes, feeling like she was drowning in her own foolishness. The anger stared to abate, overtaken by chills of guilt and shame.

But she was in command here. She could not crack – not yet, not now. She let herself breathe for a moment and then fixed her focus back on Smith. “Alright. Accompany him.”

Jaroo, who had been forgivingly silent through this took a step forward and offered his handlamp to Dwasina. “Here. The hallway is open to the next junction. Go right, look for the yellow walls. You’ll find a medbay.”

She stared at him and kept her mouth drawn in a thin firm line, even as she clasped her hand around the lamp.

Breath. Say something, Stupid.

“Thank you.” It was a strangled offer, but the words made it out without sounding like a curse. Jaroo gave her a cavalier smile for a moment and then grabbed a tool from his belt and a second lamp which he handed to Jackson. The two pried the cover from the ventilation shaft in half the amount of time it took Dwasina to hoist Lieutenant Haynes. She didn’t even have time to consider if that smile was meant to antagonize her or lift her spirits.

“Stay safe…” She pleaded as Darin Jaroo boosted Smith up to the opening.

“Yes Ma’am.” Smith responded before disappearing into the tunnel.

Jaroo waited a moment and then turned towards her. “Stay alive.” And without waiting for a reply he jumped up, letting Jackson help haul him up and the two were gone.

“I’ll try…” she murmured, and began the long, slow limp towards the fabled yellow walls that might lead her to some safety and medicine.