by MB Panichi
She alternately scanned the darkened streets and mulled over her reaction.
She had acted without thought to the perceived danger. She didn’t question her reflexes. She’d seen the knife. He’d been in a position to use it. If I had been armed, if the threat had been more than a small knife, if he’d actually gotten to Morgan… A slew of scenarios flashed through her brain. I could have killed him as easily as I knocked him aside. Broken his neck, shattered his windpipe, used his own weapon against him. In this case, there’d been no need to do more and she’d acted accordingly. Inwardly, she sighed. Changing jobs isn’t going to change me. Mechanic, undercover security agent, or commando, I’m still a trained protector and a trained killer.
Morgan shot a glance at her and said quietly, “Usually, it’s Digger walking my sorry ass home.”
Shaine heard resigned sadness in Morgan’s tone. “Sounds like he was a good guy.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know him.”
Morgan nodded. Her gaze focused on the duracrete under her feet. “This is my stop,” she said, gesturing vaguely at a four-story living complex.
Shaine slowed to a stop at the short front stairway.
Morgan ran a hand back through her hair. “Um, thanks for walking with me.”
Shaine shrugged. “Not a problem. It was on my way. See ya tomorrow.”
“Sure. See you tomorrow, Shaine.” Morgan gave her an unsure half-smile, turned, and trudged up the stairs.
Shaine waited for the doors to slide shut before continuing home. She figured she’d probably fall asleep with that image of Morgan in her head, looking up at her with sad eyes half-hidden behind dark bangs. She sighed. Damn.
Chapter Eight
Morgan faced her tasks the following morning with grim determination and a large dose of painkillers. She ached from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She had managed to collect a full set of bruises from the previous night’s slamming, the worst a boot-sized discoloration across her upper stomach.
She was still pissed off she hadn’t gotten the chance to beat the crap out of the idiot who kicked her. She wasn’t sure what to make of the whole incident. Shaine had insisted the guy had a knife, but she hadn’t seen it. In any case, the incident happened so quickly, they were outside the cube before she’d even had time to react. This morning, Shaine had made no mention of last night’s events other than to compliment Ben on his band and say she had a good time.
She sighed and pushed the thoughts away, turning her focus on her work.
Morgan clumped across the hull of the ship and knelt over an access panel. She spun the hand-sized release and clipped the hatch securely against the hull. Several layers of wires, piping and insulation ran beneath the plating. She isolated the path of the primary starboard thruster control. The optic fiber bundle appeared intact where it passed through the access panel. She used a tracer to register the control’s ID signal and stood up to follow its path under the hull. The indicator stopped abruptly some four meters from the hatch. She swung the tracer in a slow arc around the point where the signal ended. Sighing, she traded the tracer for her pad, and marked the position on the ship’s blueprint. “That’s about all I can do with that,” she muttered to herself.
Shaine’s voice crackled inside her helmet. “What’cha got, Morgan?”
“Broken lead. Gonna have to pull hull plating to get to it.”
“So much for a quick fix, huh? System diagnostics are fine so far—I’ve got a couple more components to test, but it looks like you found the problem.”
“Yeah.” Morgan toggled her com volume up. “Hey, Strom, I’ve got a broken lead under the hull plating. You’re gonna need to clear the repair with Ops.”
“Roger that,” Strom replied. “We have to replace some plating on the forward port side anyway. Mark the sections that need removal.”
“Right. Shaine still has a couple more things to check.”
“I need you to head forward when you’re done. Come to mid-ship, panel 308, and start working your way around and aft from there. We need to do a full hull check on this piece of junk. Shaine can start her check aft when she’s done.”
“Roger that.” Morgan headed back to the open access hatch. “Hey, Shaine, you get that last part?”
“Yeah, I’ll be on the hull check in a few.”
“Okay.” She knelt to reseal the hatch.
A couple seconds later, Shaine asked, “Hey, Morgan, you want to go to the Afterburner after shift?”
Morgan blinked. What?
“I was thinking about a burger,” Shaine continued.
The vaguely queasy feeling in her stomach made the thought of food less than appealing. “I think I’m still hungover.”
“You’ll feel better if you eat something.”
“That’s debatable.”
Shaine laughed. “So, you wanna go for a burger?”
“Sure, why not?” Did she just ask me out? “I’m heading up front.” Morgan unclipped her pad from her belt, checked her position on the ship’s blueprint and started forward and to port.
Her thoughts drifted while she surveyed the hull plating visually and used her pad to scan for escaping gases. Strom had paired her and Shaine on work detail most of the week. She didn’t mind, even though she missed Digger and his constant pissing and moaning and laughing at his own bad jokes. Shaine wasn’t Digger. The woman wasn’t loud or obnoxious. She knew her stuff and didn’t blather on about nothing just to hear herself talk.
Morgan heard the click of the com system flipping channels. Charri’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Did I hear Shaine ask you out?”
Morgan glanced at her heads-up display to make sure they were on a private channel. “No,” she replied flatly.
Charri laughed.
Morgan knelt to take a closer look at a scrape on the hull. Seeing that the damage didn’t reach into the insulating coating underneath, she stood and continued her search. “For the record, Little Miss Nosy, she didn’t ask me to dinner. She asked if I wanted to go to the Afterburner for a burger. That’s not dinner, that’s just grabbing something to eat.”
“Are you going?”
“Why not? Food’s better than what I’ve got at my place.”
Charri laughed again. “Uh-huh. Company’s better, too.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“I think she likes you.”
“And I think you’re nuts.” Morgan clicked off, effectively ending the conversation.
Grabbing a burger after work is not a damned dinner date. Besides, I’m not looking for a new girlfriend. I still haven’t recovered from the last one. Shaking her head, she focused on finishing her work.
Chapter Nine
Shaine and Morgan made their way through the Afterburner’s bustling after-work crowd and claimed a booth off to the side. Vid-screens lined the walls, playing various news and sports feeds, or set up for live trivia games. A long, rectangular bar split the room between the restaurant in front and the pool and holo-games tables in back.
Shaine initiated the menu screen on the wall. “What do you want to drink?” she asked.
“Dark beer, whatever they have on tap.”
Shaine punched in the order for two drafts, and added her request for a burger and fries. She sent Morgan a questioning glance. “Food?”
A wan grin twisted Morgan’s lips. “I’m trying to decide how much food’s a good idea,” she admitted.
Shaine grinned. “Still fighting that hangover, huh?”
“A little. Order me a burger and fries, and I’ll see how it goes.”
“I can always just get you ripped again so you won’t notice,” Shaine teased.
“Such a comedian.”
Shaine answered Morgan’s grin with a smile of her own. She felt like a connection had been made, the possibility for friendship solidified. She finished ordering, tapped off the menu, and leaned back in the corner of her seat, resting an arm across the
back of the low booth.
Morgan leaned forward with her elbows on the table, idly glancing up at one of the video monitors and twisting the gold band on her right hand.
“How long have you and Charri and Ben worked together?” Shaine asked.
Morgan looked at her and considered for a moment. “I think it’s been almost seven years. I knew Charri before that, though. We’ve been friends since middle school.”
“Quite a history between you guys.” Shaine hesitated before asking, “Was Digger with you all that time, too?”
“Yeah. He was.” Morgan’s eyes darkened. She looked at her hands. “We played grav-ball for a few years before we were working together.”
Shaine noticed the emotions flickering across Morgan’s face. She reached across the table and laid a hand over Morgan’s, lightly squeezing the thin fingers that felt cold to her touch. “I’m really sorry, Morgan.”
Morgan met her gaze a second. “Thanks.”
A waiter brought their drinks.
Shaine sipped hers slowly, watching Morgan do the same, catching her fleeting glances and meeting them with a steady gaze. She sensed Morgan’s unease, but wasn’t sure how to read it. She studied the gold band on Morgan’s finger and the unconscious way she played with it. Intricate, spiraling patterns decorated the thick metal. “That’s a beautiful ring.”
Morgan smiled. Her fingers stilled. “My mom’s wedding ring,” she said. She shrugged, a flush rising on her cheeks. “It keeps her with me, you know?”
“Yeah, I do.” Shaine reached inside the neck of her shirt and pulled out a dull silver chain strung with five military dog tags. She leaned forward, holding the blue-tinged titanium tags so Morgan could see. “One’s mine, the other ones belonged to my squadmates who didn’t make it.”
She frowned at the onslaught of dark memories—flying debris and screams and deafening explosions lighting the jungle around her. She still felt her panic when the narrow rock ledge she lay on gave way, and the excruciating pain for those few seconds before she blacked out. Taking a breath, she blinked away the visions and dropped the chain back under her shirt.
Morgan touched her arm tentatively. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Shaine caught Morgan’s hand and held it lightly, twining their fingers together in a motion that felt much more natural than it should have. Morgan didn’t pull away.
We’ve both had losses, Shaine thought, feeling that for both of them, the pain seemed to lie pretty close to the surface. She studied Morgan’s hand, so small against her own, yet not delicate. Morgan’s nails were cut short. Strong tendons stood out against her skin, callouses raised on her palm. Morgan’s sleeve slid up. A series of precise, faded scars sliced across the inside of her left wrist.
Shaine’s gaze flashed up to Morgan’s face.
Morgan swallowed, her expression haunted. She mumbled, “It was a long time ago.” She managed a weak smile. “I’m all better now.”
Shaine gripped Morgan’s hand more tightly. It may have been a long time ago, but something hurt you so badly you felt like you needed to hurt yourself. Who are you? I want to know. In the past week, she had seen anger and sorrow in those eyes.
On the job, Morgan was quietly confident, and very competent. Last night, she’d noticed Morgan’s happiness and relaxed contentedness. The more pieces she saw, the more she was drawn in. Like the proverbial moth to the flame.
She and Morgan remained silent a while longer.
Morgan ran a thumb over a jagged, raised scar across the back of Shaine’s hand.
Shaine caught her breath at the light caress. Tingles ran up her arm and down her spine.
“Tell me how you got it?” Morgan asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Shaine smiled slowly. Yeah, that’s a good, safe story, she thought, relieved Morgan wasn’t asking about her artificial leg. That was a story she wasn’t ready to tell. She smirked. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.
“Try me.”
“Okay.” Shaine took a second to collect her thoughts. “After I got out of Earth Guard, I got a job at Mann-Maru working entry-level security at the headquarters compound in New York City.”
Morgan gave an impressed whistle. “You worked planet-side?”
Shaine nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I was on duty at the outer doors of Mann-Maru’s corporate headquarters, which is pretty much the most boring job in the galaxy. It’s like being a glorified bellboy. I was out there with another guard. It was late afternoon, hot, humid, and miserable. It was all we could do just to stay halfway alert. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this guy races past me full-out and this woman behind him is screaming, ‘He stole my purse! He stole my purse!’ So I took off after him. After about half a block I managed to grab him by the back of his shirt and took him down. He twisted around under me and swung a knife at me. I kept him from slicing my face, but he got my hand. I smacked his lights out before I even realized I was bleeding.” She grinned at Morgan’s wide-eyed stare. “Damned serrated edge—there was blood all over the place, but it looked a lot worse than it was. Anyway, I got the nice lady’s bag back and I got a date on top of it.” She laughed and cocked her head. “So, do you believe me?”
Morgan shook her head, laughing. “I’m not sure if I should or not. You really got a date?”
Shaine held up her hands in mock submission. “Okay, I admit it. I didn’t get a date. The lady was old enough to be my grandmother. But the rest of it is true.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Ha.”
Shaine laughed and sipped her beer. She shot Morgan a challenging look. “If I saved you from getting your purse stolen, would you date me?”
“First off, I don’t carry a purse,” Morgan pointed out dryly before grinning. “Yeah. Yeah, you’d get a date.” Her face flushed and she looked down.
Shaine chuckled.
The waiter arrived with their burgers and fries and another round of beer. Conversation came in spurts while she and Morgan ate and kept to mundane topics.
After another round of beer, Morgan leaned back in her chair, turning the heavy glass slowly on the tabletop. “Can I ask a question?”
Shaine wondered where Morgan was headed. “Sure, ask away.”
“Did that guy really have a knife when you grabbed me out of the cube?”
Shaine took a sip from her beer. “I saw the metal flash in his hand.”
“You were going to keep me from going after him, though, even before that.”
Shaine heard the accusation in Morgan’s tone and nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Why? He deserved to be smacked.”
“Yeah, he did. But—” Shaine shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.” She couldn’t explain, not even to herself. She’d jumped in because it felt right. “I didn’t think about it, I just did it.”
Morgan looked at her doubtfully.
Shaine ducked her head. “I’m sorry.”
After a moment, Morgan waved it off. “Hey, don’t worry about it. You probably saved me a trip to the infirmary. Thank you.”
Shaine managed a sheepish smile. “You’d have been okay. I probably overreacted.” You wouldn’t have gotten killed. Hurt, probably, but not killed. Shaking her head, she changed the subject. “Where’d you learn to slam like that? Pretty damned impressive. Especially in your inebriated state,” she teased.
Morgan laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I grew up here and in the Belt, so I spent a lot of time in zero-g. And I played a lot of grav-ball in school.”
“You still play.” Shaine saw realization dawn.
“That night in the bar,” Morgan said with a curious half-smile. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“You play ball?”
Shaine made a face. “It’s been a long time.”
Morgan chewed her lip before her words came out in a tumble of rapidfire syllables, ending on an uneasy, questioning look. “Um, well, would you want to? I mean, ’cause of Digg—we could use a
nother guy on the team. You know, if you wanted to just try it out or something.”
Play grav-ball with Morgan? Oh, twist my rubber arm. But is she serious, or just being nice? God, I feel like a damned teenager. “Yeah, I’ll play, long as you guys don’t mind me having to catch up a bit. Sounds like a lot of fun.”
Morgan grinned. “Slammin’.”
The conversation continued to flow easily, covering sports, music, current events and living on Moon Base. She found more points in common with Morgan than not. She could have sat there half the night, but when Morgan started trying hard not to yawn, she realized that she, too, was exhausted from the week. She offered to walk Morgan home.
They set a leisurely pace through the streets under the Moon Base dome, wandering through the park, taking the long way around. Shaine thought it was a good way to extend the evening, which she’d very much enjoyed. She glanced at the wiry woman beside her.
Morgan had her hands shoved deep into her pants pockets. She walks like a spacer, Shaine thought, recognizing the smooth, almost bouncing stride she’d seen used by so many of her buddies in the Guard.
When Morgan’s long bangs drifted down over her eyes, she flipped them back with a casual shake of her head. Shaine’s fingers flexed. She imagined what it would feel like to run her fingers through Morgan’s silky black hair. Without thinking, she draped an arm around Morgan’s shoulders.
The dark head snapped up, but after a moment Morgan wrapped her arm loosely around Shaine’s waist, leaning into her while they strolled.
Shaine smiled contentedly, comfortable having Morgan close. I really like this. I really like her. I really like how this feels. It’s been a long time.
They arrived at Morgan’s apartment building and stopped at the bottom of the entryway stairs. Shaine slid around to face Morgan, her hands resting on Morgan’s shoulders. She found herself searching Morgan’s eyes for a reaction. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
The corners of Morgan’s mouth lifted into a shy smile.
Shaine said, “I had a good time tonight.” Her voice sounded breathless.
“Me too.”