by S. E. Smith
There it was, the softening in her stance he’d hoped for. One fist unclenched, then the other. She sighed and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of him. “Go on.”
Go on? With what? There was nothing more he could say. Well, almost nothing. There was one more thing, and that’s probably what she was waiting to hear. He let his shoulders sag. “Please forgive me, sora. I should never have allowed myself to take this so far.”
“You’re right about that.” She shook her head. “Graig, Simone is my best friend, but so are you. We have my soul-mate connection with Gryf to thank for that, otherwise I don’t think I’d love you as much as I do. You’re just a difficult person to get along with, you know.”
Laughter danced in her eyes, and he allowed himself the luxury of a grin. Yes, he did know the latter was true. The former, on the other hand, he didn’t believe. Even without anim tros between her and Gryf, the two of them undoubtedly would still be close. She was truly a sister to him, and so much like his younger biological sister, Sophia. She was even of age with Sophia, had his sister survived childhood. Which, she had not. He had failed Sophia, and it seemed he was poised to fail Alex as well if he didn’t make some dire changes.
The door to the arena whooshed open. “Senior Commander.”
Graig pushed to his feet and turned to face Gryf. “Sir.”
“If you two are quite finished here, you will report to my office in five minutes.” His gaze shifted to Alex. “You too, Ambassador.”
The use of Alex’s title left little doubt that the meeting would be an official one, on the record. At least she had the decency to look chagrined. Hopefully his expression was less obvious than hers, but he couldn’t be sure of that, not after his epiphany moments ago.
“You have no idea how difficult this is for me.”
Graig stifled the urge to blink at Gryf’s bald statement. There was no reason to drop his “at attention” stance either as he faced Gryf from across the black-topped desk. It was just the two of them in the office now. Alex had already received her verbal ass-chewing for her part in the confrontation, and been dismissed. Things in the senior captain’s family quarters would probably be a little tense this evening. “With all due respect, sir, I have a very good idea.”
“Do you?” Gryf steepled his fingers. “Then you know that Alexandra did the right thing, and that she was well within her rights to report this issue to a healer without consulting me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can’t undo a healer’s orders.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
His friend’s gaze seemed to study his face as though searching for something. “Please sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“That wasn’t a request, Graig.”
All right, he’d do it the senior captain’s way. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the hassle to push a situation too far. By using his first name, Gryf was clearly striving to achieve a more relaxed atmosphere. One shared by old friends. Capitulation now would be in his best interest. He lowered himself into the closest chair and gave Gryf an expectant look.
“We have been nearly inseparable since childhood, ades. You are not the same man you were before we left Terr. Your pain is my pain. Please tell me what hurts inside you so much that would cause you to lose your edge.” Gryf’s soft-spoken request opened the door for honest dialogue. But where could he begin?
“It’s…it’s as though my heart has been torn in half since we left Terr.” The verbal acknowledgement of the pain he’d done his best to bury and ignore for two months brought an almost physical relief.
“After you broke with Simone?”
“Yes.” An uncomfortable admission, but true. “It makes no sense, Gryf. I have ended more than one relationship in the past without such an adverse effect.” Even relationships he thought had been going well until the woman involved had ended them had never left him with a hollow ache inside this deep.
Gryf nodded, his expression turning speculative. “I have observed parallels between your situation and Ora’s.”
“Ora?” What did she have to do with any of this?
“The loss of Bodie has affected her similarly,” Gryf explained leaning forward. “We Matirans seem to have a natural inclination to protect the Terrians, possibly a genetic predisposition. It is my opinion that romantic relations between our races magnify that inclination.” He waved his hand. “This is purely speculation on my part. I intend to discuss it in-depth with Dante once we return to Terr.”
All he could do was gape at his friend. “That’s crazy, Gryf.”
“Is it?” Gryf countered. “Consider how well our peoples have integrated. I like to believe that Matirans are generally easy to get along with, but even so can you name one other race from any planet with which we’ve experienced such a seamless transition?”
He frowned. Not a single instance came to mind. “But, there are problems between us.”
“Indeed, however, they are minor in nature. None that will ever lead us to war.”
True. But, this was something out of the realm of his experience, and probably the experience of every other Matiran and Terrian in the galaxy. The springing of hope in his heart said yes, even as his mind questioned the possibility. “If you’re right, then what can be done?”
“Here is the difficult part I mentioned, and this part is off the record.” Gryf appeared to brace himself, and a flicker of unease fluttered in his stomach. “What do you think should be done?”
Nothing. Nothing should be done. Serving as a Guardian was his life. He’d served in the fleet for fifteen years. Even as a child, there was nothing else he had ever desired to do. He couldn’t just walk away.
Gryf sighed. “I have watched you struggle for two months, ades. Your situation is not improving, it’s getting worse. You are a liability to the crew, and to yourself. Eventually you will make a mistake that could lead to dishonorable discharge and a court martial. Is that what you wish?”
The truth of Gryf’s words hit him in the gut with the same force as Alex’s kick earlier. The dream of his childhood was slipping through his fingers, and he was helpless to stop it. His shoulders slumped with the weight of defeat. He was like a ship without a nav system or gravity, listing to starboard and floating aimlessly through space.
“No.” Why did his heart just flutter? A sense of purpose welled in his chest. As much as he resisted the idea of leaving the fleet, there was an appeal to it. To return to Terr. To Simone. How could this be? Perhaps Gryf was onto something with his theory.
Or perhaps you’re stupid in love.
His body jerked. That was something Simone would say, and she’d be one-hundred percent right. As always. “I think I need to seek an early discharge, Gryf.” He met his friend’s steady gaze. “You are correct. The longer I stay here the more likely something will go wrong. I am no longer fit to serve.”
Gryf stood and walked around the desk to stop in front of him. “My brother-in-arms, you have been my closest friend since childhood, and my right hand in service. It tears my heart to not have you at my side, but your calling has changed, just as Dante’s did. It would be wrong for me to keep you here, especially if it will eventually destroy you.”
“Would you arrange a medical discharge?”
“If this is what you wish.” Gryf’s sympathetic smile touched his heart.
He stood to face his friend and commanding officer. “It is.” He extended his right arm and clasped his hand around the other man’s elbow as Gryf’s hand closed over his, the Matiran version of a Terrian handshake.
“Just be warned,” Gryf said. “The Admiralty does not move at light speed when reviewing these cases. They are very thorough before they release their officers, especially one with an exemplary record such as yours.”
“Understood, sir.” He was counting on a delay. It would give him time to formulate a plan to win Simone’s trust back.
Five
Terrian atmosphere
Gravity pulled Graig down in his seat as the transport came out of the Terrian Gravity Transition Zone. Thank the Mother he wasn’t susceptible to GTZ sickness the way Alex was. They’d traveled to Matir several times as part of her ambassador’s duties, and every time she’d puked her guts out when entering and leaving atmospheres. Every time. He definitely would not miss those moments.
It was what lay ahead that had him gripping the arm rests of his seat. After five months of waiting, he was less than an hour from landing under the cover of darkness in New Damon Beach. Only Dante expected him, and probably Nick, but Alex’s brother was always game for subterfuge. Other than the two healers, he preferred to keep his return covert, hence his decision to land at night. The fewer people knew of his return, the less likely it would be that Simone would find out.
One week, that’s all he needed to set the stage. One long week. This week would seem like months, but hadn’t he already survived months without her? What was one more week?
Through the portal the Terrian sun reflected off the deep blue Pacific Ocean before slipping behind the rim of the planet. In all his travels, Terr was one of the most beautiful planets he had ever seen. Blue and green with white puffs swirling over its surface.
Somewhere on that surface was one gorgeous woman who was more likely to shoot him on sight than welcome him with open arms. Simone was the only variable in his plan.
Simone swiped the back of her hand over the bit of moisture rolling down her cheek. Dante had given her a clean bill of health, so why had this ache hunkered down all cozy-like in her chest? “What the hell’s wrong with me, Ranger?”
It was a rhetorical question of course, the same one she’d asked every night, either to herself or to her dog. But seriously, what was she doing out here sitting on this goddamn fence rail waiting for the sun to set so she could stare up at the goddamn stars?
Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. Her mind seemed to be on auto replay of that day. That horrible, terrible, rotten, no good day she’d fallen in love with that big, blue asshole. Which led to the other horrible, terrible, rotten, no good day when he’d left her.
If that piece of shit bastard, Vyn Kotas, hadn’t dragged Alex from the slave cell, then Graig wouldn’t have had a reason to come over and comfort her.
Oh, but the first time he’d said her name—really said her name—the timbre of his voice had flowed into her with the warmth of good whiskey, deep and rough, with a hint of uncertainty. So damn sexy. And his red hair that contrasted with his blue skin. She’d always been a sucker for redheads. But it was his stormy grey eyes, the kind of eyes that seemed to see through all her defenses and into her soul, that had sealed the deal.
Then he’d extended his strong, square hand in invitation. The choice had been hers, he hadn’t cajoled, or demanded. It wasn’t the Matiran way. In his culture, women were respected, not objectified. He’d never forced her to do anything she didn’t want to do.
She’d placed her hand in his and he’d led her away from the others. Next thing she knew, she was curled in his lap, his muscular arms around her, shielding her from all the evil in the universe while she’d soaked his uniform shirt with her tears.
What made no sense was after eight months, why was she still drifting into memories of the time they’d spent together? She should be living, maybe even with another guy.
She gave herself a shake and gazed at her hands. Mud was embedded under uneven nails and caked into her cuticles. God, she had ugly hands. Work roughened from years as a field botanist, her squared fingernails always trimmed short so they’d be easier to clean. They’d been ugly even when she was a child. Mama had never hesitated to point out her shortcomings up until the day the poor woman had ODed on heroin.
Talk about shortcomings. Mama had been a master at deflecting attention from her own by avidly pointing out everyone else’s. Even those of her then six-year-old daughter. Landing in Mildred and Samuel Campbell’s home as a foster child had been a turning point in Simone’s life. Self-esteem was something she’d had very little of, and the Campbell’s had done everything they could to restore her confidence in herself and the world. They’d even adopted her and given her a stable, loving home.
If not for them, she probably wouldn’t have graduated magnum-cum-laude for both high school and college. Nor would she have become a leader in her profession before the invasion. Still, there were moments when she wavered. Like now. What had Graig seen in her? Maybe she hadn’t been anything more than a “good time” to him. But, it had seemed like so much more. To her, at least.
Dammit. She really should be prepping her lesson plan for her students tomorrow.
Something warm, soft, and wet swiped across the back of her hand, and her gaze shifted to where Ranger stood by her feet. Everything in her softened at the sight of those earnest liquid-brown eyes looking back at her. This was what it was like to be the center of someone else’s world. Gotta love that dog. Ranger was the best gift Graig had ever given her, and her last connection to him. How could she be so angry at that big, blue asshole yet love this furry…not so little anymore…bundle of happiness so much?
Yet another rhetorical question.
She gave Ranger’s ears a scratch. “Just a little while longer, okay, girl? I’m not ready to leave yet.”
The thing was, even when she did leave, she still wouldn’t be ready. It made no sense, not that a lot of things in life made sense anymore. Either God was messing with her head or His angels were playing a practical joke.
Graig crouched at the base of a large tanoak tree, binoculars to his eyes. The early morning sun warmed his back as he watched for Simone to exit her cube. Once she was ensconced in the education building with her students, he’d have the rest of the day to fix her ID reader and set up in her kitchen.
He brushed his fingers over the data device in his pocket. A Terrian musical piece called Desperado had been saved into its memory—the first song he and Simone had ever danced to, and one she loved. It had taken Nick four damn days to make the audio recording. As frustrating as that had been, the young man was a talented musician who demanded the best of himself. Nothing but the best was acceptable, and since this was for Simone, he had to agree.
The door of the living cube opened and Simone stepped out and glanced up at the cloudless sky before continuing toward the education building. Her students had arrived five minutes earlier and were already inside.
There had been no deviation in her routine all week. Like clockwork; that was the Terrian term. The predictability of her schedule was concerning, and disappointing. Were her actions deliberate on a subconscious level? Her passive-aggressive way of spiting him by doing the exact opposite of what he’d taught her, even though there was no way she could know he had been watching her for almost a week?
Simone disappeared into the education building and he lowered the binoculars. He was as prepared as he could be. It was time to put his plan into motion. He flipped open the flap of his pack and peered into its depths. If the tools Nick had bought for him in town could talk, they’d certainly have plenty to say about how such a small, unassuming woman could have possibly broken her ID reader. He’d have to ask her about that, provided she didn’t shoot first and ask questions never. He placed the binoculars into their protective pocket and brushed his fingers over the cool-box at the bottom of the bag. Dinner seemed to be undisturbed. He closed the pack and reached for the hibiscus, Simone’s favorite flowers. They were worth yesterday’s trip to the tropical island once known as Hawai’i.
As nice as all these things were, they wouldn’t be what convinced her. That had to come from him, and Mother help him, he had never been a man of many words.
A low growl came from behind him and he whirled to face whatever wild Terrian beast had snuck up on him. A dog crouched in the long grass behind him, young and lanky, but no less dangerous than one fully matured. A strip of short, red fur stood upright along its spine, and its lips curled
back in a fierce snarl, exposing threatening sharp white teeth. Teeth that could no doubt rip him apart in moments.
He squinted, then frowned. There was something familiar about the animal. “Ranger?”
The growling stopped, but the teeth and fur didn’t return to their normal position. “It’s me, Ranger. Graig. Remember?”
There, the lips relaxed their snarling and she cocked her head, nose twitching. Dear Mother, please let her recognize him. Her long tail made a cautious sweep one way, then the other.
“That’s it, girl. You do remember me, don’t—”
The dog lunged, her tongue lolling out of one side of her mouth as she closed the gap between them. There was nothing to do but brace for impact. Ranger’s gangly legs seemed to entwine and she went down in an awkward tangle of limbs an arm’s length from him. She was up again seconds later, her warm, furry body hitting him full in the chest. She wiggled in an unbridled dance of joy, licking any part of him she could reach and whining as he scratched her all over.
“Atta girl. I missed you.” She’d damn well missed him too, judging by her determination to insinuate herself under his skin. If only Simone would be this happy to see him.
Six
Graig balanced himself on the top rail of the fence and flexed his gloved hands to better grip its worn surface. The Terrian sun rested on the horizon, turning the clouds every shade from coral to deep red in the evening sky. He had managed to accomplish the tasks he’d set for himself today before Simone’s students left in a surface hopper to return to their cubes in New Damon Beach for the night. At some point a barracks should be built to house them here instead. Making the trip to and from town every day seemed like a colossal waste of time. Their focus was to restore Terr to a self-sustaining planet, and that could be done more efficiently if everyone was on site.