Coalescence (Dragonfire Station Book 3)

by Zen DiPietro

  “Good.”

  He bowed and she returned the courtesy.

  The rest of her tour of the boardwalk was unremarkable. She received friendly greetings from people glad to see her back on the job, but she had no questions about their backgrounds or motivations.

  Cabot Layne was another matter altogether. The man did a perfect imitation of a simple trader, but she knew him to be more. How much more, she had yet to discover.

  Fallon’s team left for Zerellus that evening, which made her uneasy. Not going with them felt wrong. She’d make her lemons into lemonade, though, and use the time to have a talk with Ross.

  The doors to his quarters opened just seconds after she touched the chime. “Took you five whole minutes to get here. I’m disappointed.” His expression didn’t match the teasing words, but she gave him points for trying.

  She followed him in and they settled in the living area. “You know why I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”

  He propped an ankle across his opposite knee, looking conflicted. “Here’s my problem. I’ve seen the evidence against Krazinski. Raptor verified the data and his guilt is clear. His attempt to extort Brak only adds more evidence of his corruption.” His voice sharpened. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve known John for two decades, and I’d have staked my life on him being devoted to peace and promoting solidarity among the PAC allies.” His fingers slowly curled into a tense fist.

  She didn’t know Ross well enough to understand his inner workings. “So what do you make of it?”

  His hand uncurled and he smoothed it over his pant leg. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I can’t argue with the evidence, but it doesn’t add up against what I know of the man. That bothers me.”

  Silence stretched between them. Finally, she said, “I wish I had answers for you, but I don’t understand his motivations either. I can’t imagine what would be worth violating multiple treaties and potentially throwing this sector of the universe into chaos. But we’re going to take care of it, regardless of his reasons.”

  “It’s what you do, right?” His voice was flat as he stared into space.

  “No,” she answered honestly. “I’ve always been the tip of the arrow, not the bow.” His eyes shifted to her and she decided to be brutally honest. They needed to understand each other the way she and her team did. “Look, I’m an adrenaline junkie with a hero complex and a certain amount of moral flexibility. I’ve always been perfectly happy to throw myself at whatever target I was pointed toward, because I had faith in the people doing the pointing.” She could see she had his full attention, so she continued, “But the person who’s been directing me has become corrupt, and now I’m pointed right at him. My team never wanted to become administrators, but if that’s the job that needs doing, we’ll do it.”

  “Yeah.” Ross didn’t look less troubled.

  She leaned forward and rested a hand on his propped knee. “We’ll figure out what happened to Krazinski. That is what my team and I do.”

  He sighed and patted her hand. “I know. And there’s no one else I’d want on the job. That’s why I came looking for you. I guess I’m just weary. I thought the universe would be a better, more solid place when I was middle-aged. That my colleagues and I would have spent our lives on the betterment of the PAC. Instead, I’m finding that my cohorts are destabilizing everything we, and previous generations, have created.”

  He smiled at her, with a touch of sadness. “It’s disheartening to look toward my advancing years and feel less hopeful about the future than I did when I was a fresh young officer.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I promised you could smack Krazinski once we have him? A really good one, right across the face.” She demonstrated by smacking one palm against the other.

  He laughed. “Maybe.”

  “Don’t lose your sense of humor,” she advised. “I found out a long time ago that sometimes it’s all we have.”

  “Yeah. I guess you’re right. I’ll try harder at not letting myself get dragged down.”

  She nodded. “It’s a requirement of the job. Focus on what’s ahead of you. Don’t get bogged down in dwelling on the rest.”

  “I’ll stay on track. Thanks.”

  She understood where he was coming from. He’d lost his sense of community, and he needed a new one.

  “How about you come down to the boardwalk with me? We can get some dinner and I’ll introduce you around.” Thus far, he’d spent most of his time alone. Brooding. It wasn’t good for him.

  “Is it smart to be so open about my presence here?” he asked.

  “There’s no hiding the fact that I’m here, and the assumption will be that my team is too. Blackout will have already concluded that you’re on our side.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “Show me the boardwalk.”

  She’d been mildly hungry, but now that she’d entered the haven of delicious aromas, her stomach started growling. Fallon and Ross had only just sat down at the Bennite restaurant and picked up their menuboards when Captain Nevitt appeared.

  Fallon was so surprised that she forgot her stomach and simply stared at her captain. She’d only ever seen Nevitt on the boardwalk when she needed to greet an important guest to the station upon arrival. Fallon couldn’t recall ever having seen Nevitt eat.

  “May I join you?” the captain asked.

  Fallon found her voice. “Of course.”

  “I had a craving for some stew,” Nevitt said, quickly keying her order into a menuboard. She glanced up and noted Fallon’s expression. “Fine. I’ve decided that if things around here are changing, then I need to change with them. Assuming things go the way we think they will, a closer relationship with the people on my station will be necessary for everyone’s well-being.”

  “That’s very forward-thinking.” Fallon keyed in her order for stew, bread, and cold tea.

  “Not at all. Just pragmatic.” She focused her attention on Ross. “So what’s your story? You’ve been on my station for weeks and I know almost nothing about you.”

  He smiled amiably. “Oh, you know. Former academy instructor, recently retired. Bumming around the PAC zone while I decide what to do next.”

  Nevitt smirked. “Right.” In such a public place, Ross could hardly be more forthcoming, but Nevitt didn’t seem put out. “I hope your stay on my station proves to be productive.”

  That earned her a grin from Ross. “So do I, Captain.”

  “Call me Hesta. I’m not on duty.”

  Fallon somehow managed to keep her jaw from dropping. She’d never heard Nevitt suggest anyone call her by her first name.

  The captain eyed Fallon. “You too, when we aren’t discussing official business.”

  “Is a captain ever not on duty?” Ross asked.

  “I’m going to start. Just did, in fact, a minute ago. It looks like this.” She sat watching them.

  Prelin’s ass. The captain could be funny. Fallon didn’t know what to make of this unexpected turn of events. “I might have to work my way up to calling you by your first name.”

  Nevitt lifted a challenging eyebrow, which somehow ignited all of Fallon’s competitive tendencies. Damn, that woman had skills.

  “Fine. Hesta.”

  To her credit, the captain—Hesta—didn’t gloat. She simply nodded in acknowledgement.

  “So what’s your story?” Ross asked.

  Nevitt folded her hands together on the table. “Oh, you know. A typical space station captain, bumming my way through this assignment until I can move up in the hierarchy.”

  Ross laughed. “Fair enough.”

  The two bantered throughout the meal, with Fallon commenting in the appropriate places, but mostly observing. She needed to work harder at adjusting her perception of Nevitt.

  As time wore on, fatigue settled over Fallon. She and the others had long since finished eating and simply remained, talking. She wanted some time to herself to think and realized that she needn’t stay. Ross was m
aking a new friend, as she’d hoped. So she excused herself and returned to her quarters. The space seemed quiet without Peregrine, even though her partner wasn’t talkative in general. Her absence left a big hole, as did Hawk’s and Raptor’s. Without her team, Fallon felt incomplete.

  She sat in front of the voicecom, thinking of Wren. Had Fallon’s isolation from her team played a part in her relationship with her?

  Of course it had.

  She sat looking at the voicecom, wondering where Wren might be at that moment. But rather than call to find out, she opted to shower and get ready for bed. She couldn’t let Wren be a fallback for when her team wasn’t around. Fallon was too self-aware for that, and Wren deserved better.

  So she went to bed with her better judgment rather than with a soft, warm partner who understood her.

  3

  When Fallon woke up the next day, her sense of isolation remained. She brushed it aside as she went through her daily routine as chief of security. Her morning check-in with Captain Nevitt now felt a little different, thanks to her shifting impressions of the woman. Otherwise, there was a coziness to her routine. Checking the security systems, looking over the night shift’s report, and noting the day’s arrivals and departures all felt comfortable and productive.

  Doing her afternoon rounds on the boardwalk particularly pleased her. Citizens of the station and familiar visitors greeted her warmly as she walked along. She enjoyed looking after the people of Dragonfire, and the station itself. She just plain liked the place. The bustle of activity, the variety of people. The sense of community made her feel more rooted than she ever had.

  Not that she’d ever minded being rootless. Her main focus had always been her job. She’d never needed or wanted roots.

  Bah. It was all much more introspective than she cared to be. She just wanted to get shit done, not waste time worrying about feelings.

  She quickened her step, only to notice Wren step out from behind a Rescan. She flashed Fallon a smile as she angled toward her. Wren had a nice walk. Smooth and rolling, with even steps that, if measured, would be the exact same distance every time. But with a slight side-to-side sway that caught the eye of several passersby.

  “Hi.” Wren smiled, her eyes sparkling with her particular brand of humor.

  “Hi.”

  “Are you avoiding me?” Wren gave her a teasing look.

  “No.” Fallon hadn’t sought Wren out, but she hadn’t avoided her either. “Why would I?”

  “Your team is gone and you haven’t looked me up. I thought you might, since we talked about it and decided to just see what happens.”

  Fallon didn’t know whether to be amused or disconcerted by Wren’s understanding of her quirks. “It seemed too complicated.”

  “It couldn’t be simpler, really,” Wren argued. She glanced around to see if their conversation might be overheard. She hitched her head toward the concourse and they began walking.

  Once they’d put some distance between them and the busiest part of Deck One, Wren continued, “You and I clearly aren’t over, though we’re no longer exclusive. There’s no reason we can’t see each other. Unless you’ve decided you’re uninterested, or that partner of yours would have a problem with it.”

  Did Wren know about her and Raptor? “Which partner?”

  Wren gave her a sidelong look of amusement. “I’ve seen you two together. I could practically see the sparks.”

  Fallon decided not to argue the point. She had nothing to hide about her relationship with Raptor. It predated her relationship with Wren by more than a decade. “When have you seen us together?”

  Wren shrugged. “A glimpse in the gym. A peek on the boardwalk. It doesn’t matter. The question is, have you two become an exclusive thing? I didn’t get that impression from you the last time we talked.”

  “No.”

  Another person would have asked for more details. A non-Sarkavian person would, anyway. But Wren nodded and pressed on. “So second question. Are you uninterested in me?”

  Wren stepped in front of Fallon, forcing her to stop and return her gaze.

  Wren was hard for Fallon to ignore on the best of days. Her willingness to face off and demand point-blank answers only made her more appealing. “No.”

  Wren smiled, and the distance between them decreased until it verged on the inappropriate-for-being-on-duty. Then she spun around and resumed walking. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

  Why was it that Fallon had no qualms about flying a ship right into a firefight, yet the thought of a meal with this woman made all of her mental alarms go off?

  No, she decided. No. “Yes.”

  Prelin’s ass. Fallon cursed herself for her habit of jumping off whatever cliff she happened to be standing on.

  “Good.” Wren smiled. “Pick me up at my quarters after your shift ends.”

  There were plenty of reasons to say no. But she didn’t want to.

  The doors to Wren’s quarters swished open. Fallon entered, refusing to be affected by the fact that this had been her home for six months. She didn’t look at the wall she’d thrown knives into, or the couch where they’d snuggled and watched holo-vids. The important thing to remember was that this place belonged only to Wren now.

  Wren led her to the living area. She wore a simple dress and Fallon hoped it indicated a casual evening with no expectations.

  Fallon had gone casual as well, hoping to send her own message. Cargo pants and a short-sleeved knit shirt seemed to her to be an entirely unromantic choice of clothing.

  “Have a seat wherever you like.” Wren gestured at the couch and chairs. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Zerellian ale, if you have it.” She didn’t sit. She stood behind the couch, running a hand over the synthetic suede fabric.

  Wren laughed lightly. “Of course I do.” She returned in less than a minute, offering a tall glass with a light froth on top.

  Fallon wasn’t sure how to feel about Wren’s ability to read and anticipate her so well. It made her feel unarmed.

  She noticed an enticing smell coming from the kitchenette. “Are we eating here?” She’d assumed they were going out.

  “Yes. I hope that’s okay. I figured we’d be talking about some things that we’d prefer other people not overhear.”

  “Must we? I was kind of hoping we could keep edging around each other, unsure of where we stand. So we could really prolong our awkwardness.”

  Wren laughed. “As fun as that is, I think the time has come to really talk, Em.” She sobered and corrected herself. “Fallon. I know you prefer Fallon now.”

  Fallon took a long drink before responding. “I do, but I don’t mind when people forget. I think of it as a nickname.”

  Wren stood behind the armchair, playing with the stem of her wine glass. “I guess names don’t much matter in what you do?”

  “So we’re jumping right in, then?” Fallon had expected a good deal of idle chitchat while the two tested waters before wading into deeper subjects.

  “Yeah, seems like it. I’ve been waiting around for months, and there are things I need to know.”

  “You haven’t exactly been waiting around.”

  Wren’s lips parted in surprise. “Wow. I’m guessing that means you have a problem with me dating? I thought you might.” She took a breath. “Okay. I get it. And I’d rather be just a friend to you than nothing at all.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m still trying to figure all this out. It doesn’t feel backward to you to go from being married and exclusive to being in an open relationship?” Fallon felt her fighting instincts kick in and wasn’t sorry for it. She was better at combat than she was with relationships. “And if you’re seeing someone else you don’t want to stop seeing, why are you still interested in me?”

  But Wren wasn’t a fighter. She’d never engaged with Fallon in that way. She merely tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. “Exclusivity was your thing, not mine. I tried it and it was fine because I�
�ve never cared about someone so much, but it isn’t natural for a Sarkavian. This is just part of who I am, like your inability to live a normal life is part of you.”

  “Normal is entirely relative.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wren took a sip of her wine. “Having a short-term relationship with someone else doesn’t make me any less invested in a long-term relationship with you. The real question is, why did you get involved with me to begin with?”

  Fallon had been asking herself the same question for some time now. “I always knew the kind of life I wanted, even as a kid.” She let out a slow breath. “But you were different than anyone I’d ever met. You made me think about my life in a new way.”

  Wren ran her hand over the back of the chair. It was a nonchalant gesture, but Fallon knew Wren didn’t feel the least bit indifferent. “I wondered if I was part of some plan. If I was being used.”

  Fallon looked directly into Wren’s pale eyes. “No. You weren’t.”

  “I realize that now.” Wren made a helpless gesture. “But everything came down so hard, so fast. Your memory loss, this guy who showed up, saying you were part of some team. I wanted to stick it out, even though you might never remember me. Because you were still you, and we were still us.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Wren moved around the chair and sat heavily. “I found out you were a BlackOp. That you’d married me with that massive secret between us. Even then I wanted to stay. Marriage isn’t something I take lightly. But if I stayed, only to realize I was being used, I’d never have trusted my own judgment again. I couldn’t do that.”

  To Wren’s credit, she had no tears in her eyes, no waver in her voice. She owned up to her choices, and Fallon had to respect that.

  Fallon eased around the couch and sat. “I get it, and I don’t blame you for your choices. I might have done the same. Probably would have. When I think it through rationally, I totally get it.”

  “And when you aren’t being rational?”

  Fallon set her glass on the narrow table between them. She gave Wren a long look, not sure how well she’d handle her answer. But she wasn’t going to lie. “I deserved better from my wife. If I’m going to be with someone, I deserve a person whose gut instinct is to cover me, no matter what. Someone who would watch the whole world burn rather than lose me.”