The admiral was at his desk, head angled slightly away from her, but she clearly saw the eerie glow in his eyes. He was spiked in. Reviewing her report on Serafino? Or spying on—
“Doctor.” He leaned back in his chair and motioned to one of the two empty chairs across from his desk, his eyes still luminous but less so.
Eden sat and rested her folded hands properly in her lap, although she really wanted to knot them in worry. The U-Cees had strict regulations about electronic eavesdropping and violating an officer’s privacy without due cause. She had to assume the Triad had the same. Therefore, there was no way he could know what was said in her office in sick bay. Or in Tasha’s cabin. She straightened her spine. “Admiral, what can I do for you?”
“I gather Serafino is still unconscious.” He glanced briefly at what she now recognized—with relief—as her report on the comp screen. “Do you have an explanation for the sudden decline in his condition?”
None that I’m going to give to you at this moment. “Dr. Monterro and I have some theories, but I don’t want to get into them until we can present you with something conclusive.”
“Such as…?”
Mistrust. She empathically read that, coming strongly from him. Damn! She fished around for something close enough to appease him.
“It is possible the injuries he sustained in the vortex flare aggravated previous brain trauma.” Well, that was somewhat the truth, after all. The implant could be considered a previous injury.
“Or…?”
She tried to remember what little she knew of Serafino—the physical Jace Serafino, rake and scoundrel. She had no intention of telling him about the Nasyry half.
“It could also be the result of trefla use.” Potent and dangerous recreational drugs were a well-known pastime for many rim runners and mercenaries. Trefla crystals were one of the more popular. When she performed her volunteer work at the hospital on Kesh Valirr, she saw firsthand just what it could do.
Kel-Paten seemed to accept that. He touched the comp screen. Her report on Serafino vanished; another report appeared in its place, but this one, too, had her medical seal on top. Nothing out of the ordinary, then. Nothing with PsyServ’s distinctively spooky single-eye emblem.
“TeKrain Namar.” He said the name of the Tsarii crewmember and looked back at her.
“Master TeKrain still has difficulty breathing, not to mention speaking, sir. He needs at least another twenty-four hours on the respiratory regenerator.”
“I need some answers before the next twenty-four hours, Doctor, and with Serafino unresponsive and Kel-Pern sedated, I don’t have a lot to choose from. I’ll be in sick bay at sixteen-thirty exactly. I expect to have TeKrain available for questioning.”
“That’s not possible—”
“Make it possible,” he countered coolly.
“Admiral Kel-Paten,” she said, equally cool, her tension over this meeting drawing her nerves just a little too taut, “you may run this ship, you may run this Fleet, you may even run the entire Triad for all I know. But I will tell you one thing you do not run, and that is my sick bay. You will talk to Master TeKrain, Master Kel-Pern, and Captain Serafino when, and only when, I give you medical clearance to do so. Rest assured you will have that clearance at the earliest opportunity that I deem to be safe. But know that is my decision and my decision only. Do I make myself clear?”
Kel-Paten blinked at her. She’d give anything to know exactly what was going on behind those faintly glowing eyes of his right now. The little her senses picked up showed confusion, with a small bit of admiration.
“Perhaps I didn’t explain myself well,” he began.
My oh my! she thought. Is the unshakable admiral backing down?
“No one is more aware of your concerns than I am,” she offered. “But it was your order that I keep Serafino and his crew alive, at all costs, just so that you could have the pleasure of killing him. I have to assume that ‘at all costs’ includes even yourself. Sir.” She smiled, but it was not a warm smile and she was sure he knew it.
He leaned back and steepled his gloved hands in front of his mouth in what she had come to recognize as a typical Kel-Paten gesture.
“You wouldn’t give that answer to Captain Sebastian,” he said after a moment, but there was nothing accusatory in his voice. If anything, he seemed amused.
“Captain Sebastian would know better than to make that request,” she told him.
“Captain Sebastian has not had the aggravation of Serafino in her back pocket for the past fifteen years. Nor a veritable flock of Triad department ministers who expect—no, demand—the impossible out of me simply because I am Kel-Paten.” He raised one eyebrow. “If I can’t intimidate you into getting what I want, dare I ask for your sympathy?”
His mouth twisted, and Eden realized the Tin Soldier was trying to smile. It was a small smile and a bit crooked. Barely visible behind his gloved hands, but it was there. She saw it.
He could be almost charming if he ever gave himself half a chance, she noted with surprise.
“You have more than my sympathy, Admiral. You have my complete cooperation, as long as you allow me first to do what I’m here to do.”
He nodded. “When do you expect I’ll be able to speak to either Kel-Pern or TeKrain?”
“I think within thirty-six hours is reasonable and safe.”
“And Serafino?”
“His condition is more fragile until we can identify whatever unknown factors caused the seizure.” It was a great non-answer, and she congratulated herself on it. Her good spirits died with Kel-Paten’s next remark. This was definitely where she did not want the conversation to go.
“You might ask Captain Sebastian for suggestions. They were acquainted. Years ago, I believe.”
Eden dug quickly for another non-answer. She remembered Tasha saying she mentioned Sookie’s to Kel-Paten. But she didn’t know in what detail, and she suspected the admiral—who could almost have been considered friendly moments ago—had shifted gears and was on a fishing expedition. It made her once again consider what kind of emo-programming he had and who designed it.
“Captain Sebastian’s received the same briefings on Serafino that you have, sir. If she knew anything helpful, I’m sure she would have volunteered it.”
She regarded Kel-Paten levelly and, at the same time, tried to read him empathically. It was then she realized that the glow in his eyes, which had faded until it was barely noticeable, increased. Not as much as when he was spiked in, but it was there.
He was using his ’cybe power as a block or a filter of some kind as she probed him. She didn’t know how she knew that, but it was a guess she would be willing to place money on. That’s why her empathic senses had picked up so little before—or with such inconsistency.
He leaned back, the light in his eyes once again a pale mist. She sensed only weariness. “Of course,” he said. “But should you—or she—think of anything that might help us all deal with this Serafino situation, I trust you’ll bring it to my attention. Immediately.”
Trust. Was that what this was all about? Eden pondered that as the lift returned her to sick bay’s deck. Was it simply that, even after six months of working together, the Triad wasn’t ready to accept the U-Cee officers on board? And these few glimpses she saw of what appeared to be a softening in Kel-Paten’s personality, a foray into emotions—was that all just part of the Triad’s plan to make U-Cee officers feel they were part of the team when in fact they were not?
Or was the admiral genuinely trying to reach out to them, to Tasha?
Both suppositions made sense. And neither made sense. Being a touch telepath, Eden knew she might find out considerably more by grasping Kel-Paten’s hand next time they were together. But she knew that could also result in a lethal charge, ending her life before her body hit the floor.
The fully integrated Jace, being Nasyry, would be able to obtain the truth more easily and safely—if he was willing to put his personal b
ias against Kel-Paten aside. But in order to get his telepathy consciously functioning, she had to put Tasha Sebastian’s career—and maybe even her life—at risk.
She shook her head and exited the lift. Give her a good old bounce-’em-off-the-walls vortex any day. That was something Doc Eden Fynn could understand.
SICK BAY
With a frustrated sigh, Jace Serafino folded his telepathic self back inside his mind. There was so much he needed to share with the Vaxxar’s CMO, and he’d let himself get distracted by a too-soft mouth, a blush of pink on pale cheeks, by the very womanly roundness of her body. That wasn’t like him. Well, that was like the human Captain Jace Serafino, but not the Nasyry Jace Serafino. He was a highly disciplined, well-trained warrior.
All that had gone to hell when he touched minds with Eden Fynn.
He was totally unprepared for her impact on him. It wasn’t just her physical beauty; he knew many women who were so exotically beautiful that their very entry into a room caused all conversation to cease.
But then, as his often-so-wise sister would point out, an eight-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound, foul-smelling grenkbeast entering a room would also cause all conversation to cease.
Eden Fynn didn’t cause all conversation to cease. She caused his heart to start beating again. She caused him to search his repertoire for the witty phrase just to see her smile. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. His twelve-minute time limit was going to drive him out of his mind.
Literally. Because if the Nasyry element of Jace Serafino felt that way, the human, womanizing, certified rake and scoundrel element of Captain Jace Serafino was going to go completely out of control once he woke up.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and hurt her he would. There was no room in the human Jace Serafino’s life for the kinds of emotion, the kind of commitment, she made him want. Strewn across civilized space were a series of individuals who would not hesitate to strike out at Serafino through his feelings for Eden. Just as they had through Bianca and Jorden.
He couldn’t let that happen again.
But, gods, how he wanted to know, just once in his life, what it would be like to be truly loved by a woman like Eden Fynn. He needed her warmth, her compassion, her intelligence. And her innocence. That’s what he’d first noticed when their minds touched, and it sent his jaded senses reeling. He felt that he had spent his entire life in a dank and musty room, and suddenly a window had opened and it was spring, with every fruit tree in blossom outside.
Why now, when his life was in such a wretched state? He wanted to offer her the sun, the moon, and the stars—and all he could bring her was pain.
He sighed, physically sighed this time, as the damage from the seizure faded. His other wounds had healed; his Nasyran physiology enhanced his healing rate. Even now his ears picked up the sounds and voices in sick bay. Eden’s voice was one of them. A warmth flooded his veins at the sound.
She was discussing with someone named Cal the fact that Captain Serafino’s vital signs were rapidly improving.
You want vital, Eden my lovely, come here and I’ll show you vital! The thought and accompanying sensation raced through his mind before he could stop it.
A surge of heat flowed from his mind directly into Eden. She stood near the foot of his bed, close enough that he heard her surprised intake of breath as his heat touched her.
Jace felt her question the sensation and respond with a mental bucket of cold water aimed at him, but it didn’t work. His physical senses were coming around too quickly, and he was aware of her perfume and the soft sound of her breathing as she moved closer to him.
He groaned softly but audibly.
There was a slight click as Eden placed her medicorder on a nearby table. “Captain Serafino? This is Doctor Fynn. Can you hear me?”
His mouth moved slightly but no sounds came out.
He shifted his focus. On the wall above his bed, the diagnostics panel linked to the sensors in his bed rapidly kicked out data on his improving condition.
Eden leaned across him to key in some adjustments.
“Cal,” she called out, her fingers tapping in instructions, her attention on the readout, “I think Captain Serafino is about to return to the land of the living—ohh!”
He yanked her down on top of him, his mouth hard against hers, his tongue taking advantage of her surprised exclamation to probe her warm sweetness. His left hand threaded its way into her hair, his right arm tightening around her waist.
Warm. Soft. Sweet. She was all these things, this woman.
The bald-headed, stocky man near the doorway looked up from the file in his hand. “It appears he has returned,” he commented lightly, a definite amused tone in his voice as he stepped quickly toward the bed.
His warm, soft, sweet woman squirmed, extricating herself from his passionate embrace before Cal could intervene. She fell off his bed and landed squarely on her rump on the floor with a very unprofessional exclamation.
She was still sitting there, glaring up at the bed, when Jace rolled over and, propping himself up on his side, extended one hand down to her.
“Come back up here, nurse. I think I need a little more of your special medicine.”
“I think you’ve had quite enough special medicine, Captain Serafino,” she snapped at him, ignoring his hand and his chuckles. She accepted Cal’s hand instead and pulled herself off the floor.
Jace liked what he saw: womanly curves accented by the well-fitting black and tan jumpsuit uniform that even her shapeless blue lab coat couldn’t hide.
“Fynn,” he said, reading the nameplate on her coat. “Does Fynn have a first name?”
She squared her shoulders. “Yes, it’s Doctor. Please lie back down. I’m going to have Dr. Monterro run some tests on you.”
He rested his head against the pillow. “Dr. Monterro, eh? What a coincidence! Two people in the same sick bay with the same first name.”
She shot him a withering glance. He grinned broadly in answer. She snatched the medicorder from the table and thrust it toward the other doctor. “I’ll advise the captain that Serafino is awake.”
Eden…sorry. He reached out, softly, haltingly, into her mind just as she exited sick bay. She turned, startled, then shook her head and strode out into the hallway.
He didn’t know if she’d heard him or turned for another reason.
He didn’t know…he couldn’t remember what it was he didn’t know.
DECK 10
At Eden’s request, the ship’s computer informed her of Captain Sebastian’s location in drive-thruster maintenance on Deck 10, though by the time Eden arrived, Tasha had left maintenance and was walking down Deck 10’s main corridor on her way back to the bridge.
“Making your rounds alone?” Eden asked, catching up with her.
Tasha chuckled. “Oddly, yes. The admiral’s in the middle of a vidconference with the Kel-Tyras. I’m sure I’ll run into him on the bridge later. Anything you need me to relay to him about our house guests?”
“I have some good news and some bad news,” Eden said, carefully lowering her voice. “But this is for your ears, not his.”
“Want to discuss it in the wardroom?”
Eden nodded and said nothing further on the subject until they were seated at a quiet table next to one of the floor-to-ceiling viewports in the officers’ lounge on Deck 8 Forward. The only other occupants were two officers in Triad blacks, obviously off-duty. They were sharing a pitcher of ale at the bar, but they were far enough away, their attention on a sports vid, that Eden didn’t worry about being overheard.
“What’s up?” Tasha asked.
Eden started with the less complicated of the two issues. “Serafino.” Literally, she thought, remembering the telling hardness of his body beneath hers. “He’s awake. He was right about his memory. He didn’t even know my name.”
“Is your link with him broken?”
Eden remembered the soft, sad apology in her mind and shook her he
ad. “Not completely. When his physical body was unconscious, his subconscious or telepathic sense had free rein. Now that he’s awake, his conscious mind will dominate. His telepathy, as well as his knowledge of his talents, is blocked. Though after he woke up just now, he was able to very briefly contact me. But I could feel it was a strain.”
“Do you know anything more on the implant?” Tasha kept her voice low.
“Not really. But there’s something you should know. Serafino has an older sister. And he blames Kel-Paten for what happened to her.” Eden gave a concise recounting of what she’d learned from Serafino the night before, ending with his warning that they faced a much larger problem.
“So he’s willing to shelve his mission of personal revenge for the greater good?” Tasha shook her head. “I’m not convinced, but he can’t lie to you, can he?”
“I’d sense it. He’s angry, yes. But he’s also scared. And it’s not Kel-Paten he’s scared of. It’s just difficult to find out more while that implant still functions.”
“That’s priority number one, then. Find out what that damned thing is and get rid of it.”
“I sent the sketch I made of the unit as he showed it to me, along with the results of my research, to your in-box. Other than the three possibilities I listed, nothing. I’m sorry to have to give you so little to go on.”
“Don’t worry about it, Eden. When I access Kel-Paten’s files, I’m only going to have time to dump whatever I find and hope like hell you can use it.” Tasha sighed. “I wish I’d had more notice about this vidconference—Ralland Kel-Tyra usually keeps the admiral chatting. That would have been an ideal time to get into his quarters and access those files.”
“He’s interrogating TeKrain tomorrow. Kel-Pern is still out of commission,” Eden said. “Maybe then?”
“I have a feeling he’ll want us there. You for your empathic readings as to the truth. And me because I’m more fluent in the street-lingo dialect of Tosar that TeKrain speaks than Kel-Paten is.”
“TeKrain’s Standard is pretty bad,” Eden admitted. “Though he does have an impressive command of our swear words.”
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