“Much more than three ribs?” Macao grumbled.
“Punctured lung and ruptured spleen, among a few other assorted, lesser injuries. Lucky to be alive, really. They wanted him dead. May have spiked his drink. Xalier is still investigating.”
Macao scowled. “Mister Cartwright saved his life.”
“Cartwright?” Kieran scowled, staring back with intensity. “Mister Cartwright? Dana?”
“Yes, she said…”
Kieran rolled his eyes and gasped, “No! No! No!”
“What does that mean?” Janz demanded, “I’m sensing nothing…”
They locked stares in a silent battle of wills.
Kieran sighed, “Tell me she’s not on your mission team? She’d be perfect, absolutely, bloody perfect. But no! Fane! No way!”
Janz Macao frowned. “You know Dana?” Then he understood. “You!”
“It’s too dangerous! She’s a tribrid! Janz! It’s far too dangerous! If she were injured…No!”
“She’s perfect for this mission.”
“No! Absolutely not!” Kieran countered.
A yeoman appeared with a tray and set out for them two plates of meat-and-cheese sandwiches and a cup of steaming hot chocolay.
Janz interrupted the conversation until the young woman left.
“So…It’s you? It’s your memory of Forever Pointe that I keep seeing?”
Kieran shrugged.
In between bites, Janz demanded that Kieran explain the ‘revisions’ to the mission plan.
Macao stewed, finally unable to contain the energy building up, he balled up his left hand into a fist and brought it down on the table top.
Kieran watched. “Does that truly work for you? Never helps me.”
“It did when Puff escaped the labyrinth.”
Kieran groaned. “No, it didn’t help — not really — but it kept me from giving you, Jorn and Jad bloody noses.”
“Where are Jad and Jorn?” Macao asked, changing the subject.
Kieran scowled. “Last I heard, Jad is still on the new Alphan Ambassador’s security detail. He likes the perks… Jorn has two pairs of twins now: four boys and one daughter.”
“And you?”
Kieran shrugged. “I re-upped for another five more years. Might make Rear Admiral at the end of it.”
“Remind me to resign my commission before that happens,” Janz snarled at his older brother.
Kieran shrugged, “I’ll be only too happy.”
During the icy silence, Macao closed his eyes. “You were such a bully.”
“You, Jorn and Jad were so deserving,” Kieran reminded.
“You pushed me off the cliff at Forever Pointe. I will never forgive you for that.”
“You’d still be standing there, wallowing in your fear, and never have overcome your acrophobia.”
“And you? Still claustrophobic?”
“Oh, no, I overcame that long ago. Ever been in a coffin? I assure you, it will cure you…fast.”
Their banter delayed the looming confrontation just long enough for Macao’s anger subside. “That ship of yours? It has a wraith device…”
“She’s perfect, Janz. So is my cover. Don’t blow it!”
Both men locked stares.
“So, you’re taking charge of the mission?”
With a single, unapologetic syllable, Kieran Jai — aka Captain Tighe — said it all.
“Aye.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
From the moment Dana settled down at the Karis computer console, her mood began to shift. The maze of wiring and circuitry might have scared off any other, but no one thing gave her more pleasure all during her academy training than making sense out of apparent chaos. No reward could top the feeling of successfully deciphering the logic and strategies underlying a foreign system design. Underclassmen made a game of it; trying to ‘out program’ the instructors, to break security codes and access forbidden files. Of course, it broke the rules, but that warm glow of self-satisfaction was worth the risks.
The system proved to be less complex than some Dana had personally created. The Star Service, of course, put an end to her enthusiasm for programming the day she’d graduated and immediately shipped out to Station One’s flight deck, and then to assorted flying assignments for VIPs and such. They never seemed to put her where her talents would best serve until the assignment to Station Four. And, perhaps, by some accident, this time…
The sound of voices in the hatchway cut short her reverie; the louder Dana recognized as Janz Macao’s. She straightened up and smoothed back a stray lock of hair from her forehead in preparation.
All at once, the man with Captain Macao let out a shriek and bellowed. “Argh! Don’t tell me you’ve let someone go and muck up the bloody controls!”
Dana froze in place. That voice — not the false accent or the words of accusation but the familiarity — shocked her into immobility.
Macao immediately jumped in. “Captain Tighe! You will afford all my officers due courtesy and respect. Is that clear?”
“It’s my bloody ship, and I’ll bloody well address anybody that tampers with her any way I bloody please!”
Dana whirled around to face them, blatantly staring in absolute amazement, into the face of a man from her long ago, but never, ever, forgotten past.
He stared back and growled an expletive riddled tirade, ending, “What in bloody, freaking hell do you think you’re doing?”
His name was not Captain Tighe, and the red color of his unruly hair looked as fake as the space pirate’s accent. She dared not say a word.
Captain Macao strong armed him, censuring, “Mister Cartwright is my C-O-C. I put her in charge of the preflight for this mission. You will cooperate fully, Tighe, or you’ll rot in a cell on my least favorite penal colony.”
With that emphatically stated, Janz Macao pushed him aside, nodded once to Dana to carry on, then exited the Karis bridge leaving them glaring at each other.
Neither spoke.
Her frozen stare softened first. Finally, she whispered, “K?”
“You’re a long way from Capitol City, my love,” he returned, dropping the false accent and all pretenses, while perusing her face. “What in Alpha’s name are you doing here?”
“I’m Lancer’s C-O-C,” she reminded, staring into his lens-enhanced blue eyes, resisting his telepathic thoughts, especially, the I love you appended to them.
“Fane! How in hell did the Star Service make such a mistake? You’re no substitute for Neville Brandt.”
Dana blinked first and looked away.
She knew Colonel Kieran Jai, just as Janz Macao, was Alphan — born and raised at Centauri Prime spaceport. She even knew his blood type was T-negative — and could intimately describe the nasty scars on his left leg and on both of his hands from shuttle Stiletto’s crashing at Earth’s Capitol City Observatory, the crash Dana had the misfortune of witnessing and being first responder and first EMT on the scene. It happened nearly ten years ago. He was no smuggler, but a career officer, a colonel, with SSID, the Star Service Intelligence Division.
His expensive black, silk shirt and the charcoal, leather tunic, which fit his muscular torso quite nicely, didn’t quite fit her image of an outer worlds smuggler. Handsome — dashing — that about summed him up. She couldn’t get past the memory of him in the wreckage. The vivid recall of it, and the intimate relationship between them that followed, made her turn her back to him to regain a semblance of composure.
“Dana?” He crossed the distance between them, sliding his arms around her tiny waist, enjoying the embrace. “Dear Dana…It has been far too long.”
She successfully fought off a display of emotion and responded coolly, “It’s been ten years,” she reminded, unable to even say his name. “You look well.”
“You look bloody marvelous,” he said, coaxing her to turn around for an affectionate hug, kissing her on both cheeks and upon the lips.
She pushed him away to arm’s length. “Captain Tighe,
please…”
He ignored the comment, “And Lt. Cmdr. S.G. stripes no less.”
She backed away and forced her gaze downward at the deck. “Sir, please stand aside.”
“Dana?” He puzzled at her reaction. “What? Tell me?” He slid his hands along her shoulders, massaging them tenderly, savoring the sensation. “You never answered my letters. I visited after my duty tour but they told me DOC had passed away and…”
“After I graduated from academy, DOC drank himself to death,” Dana interrupted with a scowl.
“Your friend, Calagura, left MCE to become Director of Competency at MED-SCI. No one would tell me what happened to you; and my clearances were blocked, so I couldn’t access your file.” He slid his right hand up under her hair braid, attempting to establish a link, but failed and frowned. “You’re unreadable. Are you wearing an N-link or something?”
“Or something…” She moved away a step. “I received no letters and I have no clue why my file was blocked to someone of your rank.”
He pleaded, reaching out to her. “Dana, why are you doing this? I’ve traveled all over the galaxy since I saw you last, but never gave up hoping that we could…”
She shrugged. “I changed careers — was busy — too busy to renew old acquaintances.”
Kieran recoiled. “Ouch…Is that all we were? Dana? We were more than mere acquaintances.”
She turned her back on him again and said, icily, “You made it clear that Intelligence Officers should have no…entanglements.”
“Dana?”
She responded coolly, suppressing the emotions his touch rekindled, refusing to allow herself the luxury of letting down her guard. “Now is not the time, Captain Tighe.”
He realized he wasn’t going to sway her, so he stopped trying, instead repeating his previous question. “What in Alpha’s name are you doing aboard Lancer!”
“A last minute replacement for Neville Brandt...”
“Fane! I was counting on him. Terrible what happened,” he mumbled, “well, no matter. Janz has put you on his mission team? Rats! Though I know I can trust you, it’s far too dangerous. I want you off this mission immediately. You’ll have to find a way to get yourself removed from…”
“I can’t do that, sir,” she countered. “That is entirely in Captain Macao’s hands.”
He lifted her chin with his hand so that he could look into her mismatched eyes. “Consider it an order, Dana. And you know I have the authority to make it stick.”
“K…”
“Any form of protest will be considered insubordination.”
“K…”
“I can’t explain. You must trust me.”
She bit off the protest that he couldn’t and wouldn’t, but instead demanded, “Does the Captain know about you? Who you really are?”
Kieran chuckled. “Oh, Janz knows…no one else can. Don’t you dare tell a soul. Consider that an order, too.”
She scowled at him. “Then you better keep your hands off of me.”
“You’ve hardened your heart,” he remarked.
“I had to,” she snarled, “had to toughen up.”
“Ouch! Because of me? No, there’s something more,” he guessed.
“Obviously…”
She fussed with her scanner, her back turned to him again.
“Ten years…”
She shrugged and changed the subject, manipulating the conversation the way DOC Cartwright always had, “I found my birth father.”
His expression changed. “Whoa! Where? How?”
“Haven’t seen him since. He was right there, all along, in a skilled medical facility.” She decided not to offer up further details.
Kieran’s voice softened and he chuckled. “That’s rather amazing…right there?”
“DOC lied to me all those years. I haven’t found my birth mothers. The records were conveniently moved just before I managed an assignment to Station Four; and Kyoko Dey-Cartwright, DOC’s second wife, transferred away. Everything’s sealed and at Scanlos now, but I haven’t given up.”
He frowned, trying desperately to reach her telepathically.
Dana? Why can’t I read you? Are you wearing an N-link?
She tugged at the cord and showed him the device hung about her neck.
“Ah! That explains it.” He reached for the leather thong, asking, “Did Janz give you that?”
“No,” she assured, “a classmate at academy did.”
“An Alphan? Smart man,” Kieran smiled.
“He said he could sense you.”
“Really?” Kieran’s eyes widened. “I’m that powerful?”
She chuckled, “Lust is a powerful emotion.”
His eyes twinkled and he laughed heartily. “Are you teasing me? There’s hope for you yet, my love.” He reached for it again, but Dana clutched the lozenge-shaped pendant defensively.
“I have orders.”
“Okay then…” He sighed and tried once again to establish a link. Allow me to…
She backed away another step.
He leaned close and whispered into her ear, “Dana, you saved my life at Capitol City. Let me return the favor. Get off this mission.”
Dana had no time to ponder his meaning. Ensign Lewis stood in the hatchway, very blatantly staring at the two of them. She realized the compromising position she was in and reacted, abruptly pushing “Captain Tighe” forcefully away.
“You keep your ‘bloody’ paws off me, Captain Tighe, or I’ll see you are confined to the brig.”
That caught Kieran totally by surprise. He stared, stunned for only the briefest moment, then caught on and reverted to his assumed persona.
“You keep your bloody hands off my ship, Mister C! And don’t jinx her, or you’ll regret it.” He stormed past Lewis and loudly bounded down the ramp to the lower deck.
“Charming man,” Dana commented to Lewis. “That’s the captain of this ship. Better post security guards here and in the engine room, just to be safe. I’ll inform the captain.” She gathered up her scanner and, with a last icy glance over her shoulder, left the Karis bridge.
Ensign Lewis gave no sign of disbelief, appearing to be totally fooled by Dana’s acting.
Still, she fretted over the exchange, while waiting to MAT transfer back to Lancer, her hands quaking, and thoughts in turmoil. Kieran Jai, an SSID Colonel, was impersonating the captain of the trader ship, Karis, it gave the mission a whole different slant. A dangerous one…
Sam Ehrmann reached her first, offering his right arm. “Are you okay, Mister Cartwright?”
Dana looked at him, blinked, and then looked at where his hand gripped her arm. “Do you feel it?”
She looked from Ehrmann to the lieutenant at the MAT controls.
“Sir?”
“That vibration…It…” She took a step. “Can’t you feel it?” she demanded of the MAT-SYS Chief. “Something is wrong with the drive alignments or…”
He stared back. “Sorry, Mister Cartwright, I’ve been aboard Big L for a lot of years. I don’t feel a thing out of the ordinary.” He offered kindly, “Maybe you…maybe you should see Doctor Patel.”
Dana shook off his hand and started for the door. “I’m fine. She’s a nice one, Sam. You need to up your odds for this mission.”
He chuckled nervously as she stepped out into the corridor.
Once out of his view, she leaned against the bulkhead and closed her eyes. N-link still about her neck or not, she could feel the discord like a small earthquake, rumbling through the ship.
She took some readings with the recorder and appended them to the end of the file on the data module the Captain had given her, but wished she had a baseline reading from a few days ago to compare. The vibration seemed significantly worse.
“Not good,” she moaned, “not good at all.” Though still feeling disoriented, she chided herself, silently demanding, Stay focused, DD… However, seeing Kieran again just compounded the tension.
Silently, she mull
ed over the turn of events as she headed down to supply, to return the scanner to inventory.
What in galaxy’s name is Kieran Jai doing here, if not to set a trap for some members of Lancer’s officer staff; a trap to catch them in the act of…of what? Treason?
Preoccupied with worry over Kieran Jai’s order to get off the mission, Dana nearly missed seeing Security Chief Gordon corner Chief Kulak in the corridor outside the supply center.
Kulak looked quite put out, and though they were whispering, it seemed quite obvious the discussion was escalating into a heated argument.
Dana secluded herself from view and strained her hearing hoping for some hint as to the nature of the disagreement. Empathetically, she picked up even stronger emotions, but only caught a word or two of the conversation. There seemed little connection. She heard them mention a “Jim,” and ran through the list of officers names, until she found a Jim. It was none other than James Mansfield, Chief Weaponry Officer.
Her suspicions were even more piqued when Mansfield turned the far corner and joined the two men. Rather than risk being discovered eaves-dropping, she had to act. The scanner in her hand provided the excuse for being at supply, though she could as easily have checked it in later.
“Here goes,” she muttered and started toward the trio.
Instant silence greeted her, though the receptions were quite disparate. Gordon seemed agreeable, Kulak nodded acknowledgement as she expected, but Mansfield was belligerent, and spitefully called, “Aren’t you late for your shift, Mister Cartwright?”
If he intended to provoke, it didn’t work. She forced a pleasant smile in response and called in passing, “Not according to the new duty roster, Mister Mansfield.”
“Look again,” he shot at her and began to snicker. “The Captain’s sure upset about it.”
Dana let the taunt go without a retort. His intent was clear, to plant the seed of doubt, make her afraid that the roster had been changed.
She knew it hadn’t. Besides, Macao gave the order to work on Karis.
Yet…
Dana dropped the scanner off with no word of thanks and demanded the ensign at the supply station, “Call up the duty roster for me.”
Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer Page 15