Hendriks was a large blond man just on the right side of forty, whom Ferris had admired for his expert efficiency before he had heard what Lin had to say about him. He was standing in the middle of his cabin, one shoulder leaning negligently against the wall, his arms crossed. He smiled grimly at the Lieutenant.

“How did you get in here?” asked Ferris, annoyance uppermost, fear just starting to flick around the edges of his consciousness.

“As First Officer, I have access everywhere, except the Captain’s quarters of course.” He examined his fingernails. “What’s this I hear about you complaining to the Captain about our little games?”

Ferris braced himself and held his ground. “It’s not a goddamn game, Hendriks. It’s got to stop, Sanchez too. It’s barbaric, not to mention criminal. If the Captain won’t act, I know Colonel Young will.”

“How about you just mind your own business?”

Quick as lightning, he stepped forward and punched Ferris hard in the stomach with both fists, one after the other, watching him as he doubled over gasping for breath.

“You can take that as a friendly warning to stay out of our affairs. Don’t even think about contacting Colonel Young. Remember, Sanchez gets to oversee the entire ship’s communications, so we’ll be watching you. If either of us even gets a hint you’re still pursuing this you’ll get another visit, when you’re asleep in bed this time. We’ll take turns. Nod if you understand.”

Ferris nodded.

Hendriks bent down to whisper in his ear, “And that prettyboy you’ve been chasing? We’re going to get him too, only he might not look so pretty after we’re through with him.”

Ferris had been telling himself to just lie down and take it, to plan a counter attack later, when he was in a stronger position, but that last threat pushed his self control over the edge. He head-butted Hendriks in the face and followed it up with a punch over the heart. The larger man keeled over, blood gushing from his nose and Ferris started to climb to his feet. But then Sanchez stepped through the doorway and kicked him hard in the kidneys and he was down on the floor again.

“You can’t win you know,” Sanchez said conversationally. “You’re just making things worse for yourself.”

With almost clinical detachment, he caught hold of Ferris by the left arm and twisted it as he spoke, twisted it with both hands until the bone snapped. The Lieutenant bit back a scream and swore violently instead. Sanchez let him go and bent down to haul Hendriks to his feet. “Come on, let’s go, I think he’s learnt his lesson. He’ll be pissing blood for a week. And he knows what will happen next time, if he tries anything else.”

Ferris lay on the floor for a few moments, trying to get control over the pain. His heart was still racing, but at least he hadn’t been raped. That was good, right?

He debated whether to try and fix his arm himself, a task of which he was more than capable, as was every man on board. It was part of basic training. When you were out in the field you couldn’t depend on a medic being available for every injury, but then he decided that would draw even more unwanted attention.

After all, the injury had happened on board, not in the field, why wouldn’t he have taken it to sick bay? Even more importantly, he had to warn Peters and Lin immediately. He had just received painful evidence of Hendriks and Sanchez propensity to act quickly. He dragged himself up so that he was sitting on the bed and spoke into his wristcom.

“Peters? Ferris here. Can you get a warning to Lin and the rest of the men involved? I’ve just had an unpleasant visit from Hendriks and Sanchez, and they made some rather comprehensive threats.”

“Are you all right, sir? I’ll be right there.” Peters’ concern was flattering.

“There’s no need, I’m fine.”

“I’ll be right there, don’t move.” Peters repeated firmly.