Free INTERVENTION by DENNIS MILLER

vessel: and regardless of how we view them, Agents do not pursue personal gain, which makes them the most reliable and ideal choice for a civilian company who may profit immensely from this venture. And who knows? There may be no profit to be had from this mission and our illustrious Agent may very well end up on one of the Saturn ice rings projects.” 
       They both grinned mischievously at the thought of Andretta being sent to the space equivalent of the Siberian salt mines of two centuries ago.
     
    Later that day, Rachmel, astride the hoverbug, came to a halt at the entrance to the port side main drive inspection facility: dismounting, she stepped inside the chamber. 
       Miles, with his back to her, was studying the Thermo Spectra Analyser. She watched him for a couple of minutes, realising that the Leading Engineering Officer, as had been noted to her, had been acting a little out of character lately. It wasn’t like Miles to avoid contact, but he seemed to be using the hoverbugs wherever he went; was this to cut down the chances of bumping into anyone and being drawn into conversation?
    T here was Also the question of the secret meetings with Pilot Hidson; what was that all about? 
       She tried to dismiss her earlier thoughts of these two being Andretta’s targets as unlikely; considering the length of service they had served together she believed that she knew Miles as well as anyone could, but now there was a small niggling doubt; did we really know anyone? She had thought about asking Miles to keep an eye on Kamul, but now she wasn’t so sure.
       Putting on her best ‘Hi buddy’ smile, she said “So, what do you think? Are we going to make it on both systems? Or will we have to limp back home on one?” 
       Miles didn’t look up, but carried on with his viewing and answered as though he had known she was there the whole time. “No problems with these units, they’ll be good for another thousand trips.” And, still avoiding eye contact, he looked up into the main drive unit.
       “So, what brings you down to the oily rag department, Commander?” 
       There was indeed something wrong here, she thought: Miles would never have spoken with his back to her. 
       “Well, I came down to see if you were still on board; haven’t seen you around lately.” 
       Miles stood, motionless; his thoughts in turmoil: he felt the urge to tell her of his concerns; after all, he knew and trusted her and she was the Commander of this mission which made it essential that she know everything that was going on aboard.  But! Andretta’s indication that he didn’t know anything about Rachmels’ life before the service had left its trail of doubt. He was out of his depth: this was the intrigue kind of world that was the domain of people like Andretta; where folks like him felt uncomfortable and rarely ventured and now his natural vent to converse appeared to have abandoned him. He felt trapped and in a strange place.
       The silence had lasted too long: Rachmel knew from Miles’s body language that he was debating with himself whether or not to open up, but she also believed that if she pressed him he could clam up altogether.
       She spoke again, quietly. “I have to get back to my quarters: if you feel the need to discuss anything please don’t hesitate: you know where I’ll be.” 
       Still unmoving, he heard the hoverbug ask “Destination please” and Rachmels’ reply “Commanders quarters.” 
    Once he was alone he decided that this situation needed to be resolved: he stepped aboard the waiting hoverbug. “Destination please.”
       “Agent Andretta’s quarters.” The vehicle moved off, three minutes behind Rachmels’. 
       Just beyond the observation unit were four small inspection chambers which allowed access by Code Three Engineers into the main drive systems: from one of these chambers Rachmel now emerged to watch Miles disappearing into the distance.
     
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