David Hardy was unfortunately the type for which Rule 158 had been written. So far he had managed to keep out of trouble but it was only a matter of time before he was transferred. Unlike Kent, he couldn’t or wouldn’t keep the relationship private. He was familiar when other crewman were around, assumed special treatment as his due and in short, soon helped to create just that air of resentment among the crew that Matthews had previously hoped to avoid.

He had been flattered when the Captain called him to his quarters and agreed to everything he wanted in a matter of minutes. He was slightly built with blond hair as long as regulations permitted and a pretty face. Unfortunately, he tended to be spiteful and rather selfish, his one redeeming trait being an almost brilliant understanding of his job, which was maintaining the space drive. Matthews was not fully conscious of the fact that he had chosen him because he was as opposite to Kent as he could be.

When Kent heard the news he sought instant refuge in his cabin. He felt so hurt and humiliated that he thought he hated Matthews. When he imagined him kissing Hardy his own face burned with shamet was that how the Captain had seen him? Just like Hardy, perhaps a bit harder to get? He obviously preferred Hardy’s practised caresses to his own shy attempts. Kent squirmed in agony. The Captain had known perfectly well how he felt about homosexuality, why on Earth had he led him on if he hadn’t really wanted him? How could he have been so cruel?

He didn’t turn up for duty that next shift and the men under his command covered for him. It was the first time that anyone could remember that the crew of the Kalar had supported someone against their Captain. Pride got Kent out of his cabin for the next watch. He was a responsible officer, not a lovesick mooner, and besides, he would not give Matthews or Hardy the pleasure of witnessing his pain and humiliation. Despite his good intentions, he could not concentrate properly on his work. A couple of times he made mistakes which could have been dangerous if his subordinates had not seen and corrected them. His temper was short and although he apologised immediately he was disintegrating as an officer and he knew it.

On his way back to his cabin after that shift, a man who he knew was one of the other few oms on the ship, knocked into him coming out of his own quarters and Kent nearly lost it. In a split second he had the crewman backed up against the wall, his hand at his throat. “Don’t touch me!” he hissed.

The crewman looked at him as steadily as he could. “I’m sorry, sir, it was an accident,” he gasped, the pressure around his throat made it difficult to speak. He stayed motionless, waiting for sanity to return to the Lieutenant’s eyes.

Kent looked at his hand in horror and drew back instantly from the other man, shaking his head. “Sweet gods! I could have killed you.”

The crewman looked at Kent, saw that he was about to come completely to pieces, decided to take a risk, and quickly drew him back into his cabin. He set the privacy seal and sat down as far away from the other man as he could so as not to alarm him further. “Take a deep breath, sir. Sit down and put your head between your knees for a minute. Take some time out.”

In a daze, Kent followed the instructions. After a couple of minutes he felt as if he was starting to get back in control of himself. He looked at the other man, sitting there watching him with concern on his face and took another deep breath. “I am so sorry, Nguyen! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, sir. What about you? Do you want to talk about it? I am more likely than most men on this ship to understand,” he added with a slight smile.

“What’s there to say?” replied Kent bitterly. “I love him, I hate him. He dumped me. End of story.”

“Oh!” said Nguyen a little weakly.

Kent looked at him for a long intense minute, then cleared his throat and asked, “Do you want to have sex with me?”