Xander (The Nova Force Book 1)

by Vivienne Savage

  “That was fun last night, don’t you think?” Thandie closed her locker and crouched down to lace her boots.

  “Not as much fun as what this little tart had,” Saskia teased. “C’mon, Lizzie. Don’t hold back. Tell us how your virtual romp went.”

  Elizabeth Fairchild stuck her tongue out at them. “There’s no need for jealousy just because I got some and you didn’t.”

  “Please,” Saskia said. “I’d rather have a real cock. The virtual sensations just don’t do it.”

  “Meaning you’ve tried it,” Thandie pointed out. Saskia’s reply was to shrug and grin.

  “Who hasn’t? We’re on ships for months at a time between ports. I don’t know about you, but dating our fellow military men—especially the ones on the Jemison—doesn’t do it for me, either,” Saskia replied. “They’re a rather childish sort, with the exception to a limited few.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “You’ve barely been on the Jemison a month.”

  “More than enough time to weigh and judge these guys.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you that. Speaking of dating fellow crewmen, I can’t believe O’Reilly asked Thandie to join him on a date in the bloody lounge.” The combat medic stood in front of the locker room mirror, gathering her white-blonde hair into a neat bun.

  Thandie grunted and finished wrapping her wrists. “I managed to avoid giving any sort of answer. Medical didn’t seem the place to laugh in his face.”

  “I’ve been here long enough to know he’s a womanizing creep. Do yourself a favor, love, and stay away. These twenty-four-month deployments turn them into randy losers.”

  “No worries about me, Saskia, I’ve been through ship tours before. Now I’m just trying to plan how to whoop the commander in the ring.”

  Saskia smirked. “You almost had him, until he took that cheap shot. Anyway, the way he treats you reminds me of a boy on the playground picking on the girl he has a secret crush on.”

  “Kick his bloody arse today, Thandie. We’ll all be cheering for you. I dated Viljoen for about a month when I was new to the ship, so I know what an asshole he can be,” Elizabeth muttered.

  Now that they were on the assault squad, Viljoen put them all through fifteen hours a week performing high-intensity physical training routines. And during those fifteen hours, they each received his undivided attention in the ring while their squad mates ran endurance, lifted weights, or sparred against each other.

  Saskia squinted around. “I don’t see Commander Vargas.”

  “Oh, he has duty in the medical wing today,” Elizabeth said.

  Viljoen already stood in the center of the sparring ring. “Davis, you’re up first!”

  Thandie began her training session with a timed run, while the trainer started calling them into the ring one at a time. After three laps, she moved on to the climbing wall, followed by a round on the mats practicing blocks and strikes until Viljoen barked out, “Kruger, get in here.”

  Thandie bumped fists with Saskia, then they exchanged places. Allowing her no time to get situated in the ring, Viljoen launched a spin-kick into Thandie’s rotator cuff the moment she moved within his reach. She rolled with it this time and let his foot glide off her arm to minimize the force.

  Bastard. The strike knocked her off balance, but she blocked the next with her natural arm to avoid granting Viljoen access to her prosthetic again. She had to keep it away from him before he capitalized on the same weakness.

  “Afraid I’ll shatter your toy again, Kruger?”

  “No, sir.”

  Viljoen moved swiftly for a man of his considerable bulk, and his blows were devastating, whether she blocked them or not. He bruised her forearm and her shin as they traded strikes and kicks across the mat while eager comrades watched and held their breaths.

  Literally. Saskia was blue in the face.

  “Come on, Kruger. What are you waiting for? What if I wasn’t a trainer and I pulled a gun on you or a knife? You can’t drag the fight out and keep that arm away from me forever.”

  His taunt goaded Thandie into dropping her guard. Viljoen pressed his advantage and caught her across the face with a right hook. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth and she retreated out of his reach.

  “Accept that you’re going to lose and don’t deserve the spot on my team. Give it up, and let me teach the rest of my squad—”

  The commander’s words filled her with white-hot fury. She lunged at him with her cybernetic fist, but he stepped aside of the blow, grabbed her by the wrist, and cracked her prosthetic over his knee. Thandie screamed. Desperate to remain in the fight, she drove her flesh and bone fist beneath his chin, cracking his teeth together.

  Blood and spittle flew from the man’s mouth as he staggered back off balance, pulling Thandie with him. He recovered quickly and wrenched her arm, then he used it like a tether, taking her wherever he wanted to lead her on the floor.

  Regaining her footing, she maneuvered close enough to slam the back of her head into his nose. Suddenly, Viljoen didn’t want to hold on to her anymore.

  They traded blows back and forth across the sparring mat, one blocking and the other receiving. She searched for an opening in his defense, determined to end the intense exchange between them.

  Viljoen’s weakness became apparent with crystalline clarity. It had dangled before her all along, but she had never considered it with any seriousness. Thandie feigned a strike with her left and stepped in close, turning her cheek so that his punch skimmed past her face. It hurt but failed to lay her out on her back. With only a second to spare, she aimed her right hand downward for his balls.

  Thandie’s strike was colossal, the sort of blow that made a spectating crowd sympathetically wince along with the recipient. The heel of her palm collided with the commander’s crotch, and she held very little back, allowing him to experience almost the complete might of her cybernetic limb. Anything more would have squished his grapes into jelly. Viljoen convulsed and relinquished his grip on her shoulder.

  Without wasting a precious second, Thandie took him down to the ground into a locked grapple that placed the commander face down on the mats. He puked, but she lacked the sympathy to ease up on her restraint. She kept him locked by both of her strong legs.

  “Tap out, Commander.”

  Viljoen struggled, but in the end, he slapped his hand down on the mats. Thandie released him to the sound of cheers.

  Chapter Seven

  “The marines must have had a great sparring match, sir. You have Kruger and Viljoen this time,” O’Reilly reported.

  “Really?” Xander tapped the screen and pulled up the patient-waiting list. He blinked.

  “They look feckin’ awful. Especially the commander. I, uh, sent him to the showers first, sir. Kruger is waiting in your lab.”

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  The medical technician struggled to maintain a straight face. “Read his chief complaint, sir.”

  Xander tapped the screen with his finger and expanded the digital record. “Testicular contusion…” Christ. She actually did it. A broad grin spread across his face, and then he leaned back in the seat, chortling with laughter.

  “They brought him in covered in his own vomit.”

  “Ha!”

  Thandie waited for him in one of the exam rooms, sitting on the edge of the table in form-fitting workout attire. Bruises littered both forearms and dried blood crusted her lower lip.

  For the first time, his cock didn’t rise up to greet her, too. He had it under control. Instead of unearthly beauty, he saw a marine who had apparently been through hell in the ring. He grinned.

  “You’re looking a little rough around the edges, Kruger.” He held both of his hands beneath the sanitizer and a perfect pair of gloves molded to his hands.

  “You should have seen the other guy.”

  Xander chuckled and gestured for her to lie down. She knew the routine and remained still as he guided the biometric scanner above her and activat
ed it. “I will soon. Did you take my advice?”

  “It wasn’t bad advice, and he didn’t leave me much opening for anything else.”

  His keen eye picked out most of Thandie’s injuries without use of the device. A swollen lower lip appeared to be the least of her troubles.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked.

  “Which bit?” Thandie looked up at him from her reclined position. Her smile tugged at the tear and quickly dropped the expression from her face.

  “That bit,” Xander said. He smiled back at her. “Hold on, I’ll clean that up first.”

  Xander used a damp cloth to wipe the dried blood away, careful not to further agitate the split skin. “Any pain in your prosthetic?”

  “Not as bad as last time, no, but…”

  “What?” he asked while using an applicator to smear a dollop of anesthetic gel over the split skin of her lip.

  “I heard a crack, I think. And my fingers sort of tingle. Things don’t feel right.”

  “I thought so, but I wanted you to verify it.” Xander turned aside and opened a drawer to remove his surgical scalpels.

  Thandie squirmed. “Um… Doc? I see lots of sharp things.”

  “He separated a nerve and I can’t reconnect it by touch this time, Kruger. If you want complete sensation back, I’ll have to go in.”

  “Oh. Right. Okay.” She focused her gaze straight up at the room’s ceiling, tension in her lean frame.

  “Relax. You’re familiar with this, right? I’m going to make a small incision here, and here,” he explained patiently, marking the spots with a green marker. “For the duration, your pain receptors will remain deactivated in this arm. I won’t let you feel a thing.”

  A pent-up breath spilled from her, accompanied by a terse nod.

  Xander numbed the arm all at once by deactivating the sensors beneath the skin. He knew them by memory on her arm’s model and could do it without the use of an x-ray. Once it fell limp against the surgical table, he positioned it as needed and began making small and precise cuts to yield access to the mechanicals bits beneath the human skin. It parted easily, welling small amounts of blood to the surface that he wiped away with a cloth.

  The repair took less time than the conversation preceding it. At the end, Xander sealed the small cuts and reactivated her arm’s nerve sensors. “You’re done. How does that feel?”

  Thandie rolled up and flexed her hand, touching each finger in turn. She pressed her palm against the table and then ran her fingers down her pants before she seemed satisfied with her tactile sense.

  “Thanks, Doc. Viljoen hits like a drake.”

  “He should. He was a former MMA champ before he enlisted. You should feel proud.”

  Xander patted her on the back in passing on his way to the next patient room.

  Commander Viljoen lay on his side in the fetal position, ashen gray and shaking.

  “So… My chart tells me that you walked groin first into someone’s hand. Bad luck, mate.” Xander grinned broadly and stepped into the room. Karma is a bitch, he thought cheerfully as he shut the door.

  Something told him Daniel Viljoen wouldn’t be challenging Thandie to the ring again anytime soon.

  A doctor like Commander Vargas deserved to be spoiled. After an impromptu visit to the commissary to purchase a sack of sweets, Jem directed Thandie to the crew lounge to find her benevolent prey.

  For a moment, she lingered in the doorway and watched him. Like the other night, some old and unfamiliar film played on the holographic display. Teenagers ran screaming from a knife-wielding monster and creepy music played from the surround sound audio apertures.

  Thandie dropped the bag of glazed pecans over the back of the couch next to Xander. He jumped, startling badly enough to slosh tea over his hand.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Xander stared at her. Even in the dim lights, his eyes still shone like silver. A moment passed before he shifted on the couch. “It’s all right,” he said slowly.

  “Are you sure?”

  He scrubbed his face with the heel of his palm and exhaled. Then he eyed the bag and plucked it from the cushion, expression warming. “Why are you awake at two in the morning?”

  “I told you. Night owl. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a side effect from the splicing.” She rounded the couch and dropped down beside him, drawing her legs up. “I used to be a terrible sleep-in, Doc.”

  “Xander. We’re both off-duty, so the name’s Xander.”

  “All right… Xander.” She tasted the name on her tongue and decided she liked it. But probably not as much as she’d like tasting him. Shit. She pushed the naughty thought away and shyly swung her gaze to the video. “You’re always watching these old shows. And eating sweets.”

  “Is there something else to do at two in the morning?”

  Before she could rein in her dirty mind, it spilled out of her. “I can think of a few activities that are ideal at two in the morning.” Thandie waited a beat, long enough for the understanding to dawn in his eyes, before she added, “Like the gym or the bio-farm.”

  Xander eyed her. “Right.”

  “Seriously. The gym isn’t crowded at this time.”

  “Depends what you consider crowded. Viljoen and Etherington like to visit the gym around three and leave by four. That’s when I head inside. As far as the bio-farm goes, the trees are a little too popular at night for my liking.”

  “Not one for intimate strolls, Xander?” Thandie snagged a couple sugar-glazed nuts from the bag. Their fingers brushed together, the touch lingering longer than what was considered polite or appropriate. She glanced up to find the doctor’s gaze fixed on her mouth, with the kind of sensual intensity that sent heat curling through her core—the kind of intensity that made her wonder what fantasy was running through his mind.

  Seeming to realize he’d been busted, Xavier cleared his throat and glanced away. “I’m not one for tripping over two marines fucking in the bushes. There’s kind of an unspoken vow between us officers and the rest of the crew to remain away from a few locations during certain hours of the day.”

  “Is that so you don’t have to bust people, or so they don’t try to lure you into mischief?”

  “Both.”

  Her heart did a little double beat as she settled back against the cushions. “So, what’s your story? Anyone waiting back home? A wife? Kids?” On the inside, part of her was praying he was just another handsome, single officer, and flirting with him wasn’t shitting on another woman’s marriage. What other reason could there be for him avoiding the risk of an entanglement?

  Something in Xander’s expression changed, the desire wilting like she’d poured ice water over his lap. “No. I’m not married.”

  “Sorry. Your private life is your business.”

  He waved it off. “It’s fine. I don’t mind questions. The military life doesn’t suit marriage, and since I prefer living on ships, it wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Some people seem to make it work. Look at the residential deck. Abernathy has a wife onboard. She works in one of the science labs, I think.”

  “No, I wasn’t aware.”

  Silence fell between then. When the easygoing, flirtatious mood didn’t return, she searched for something to say—anything, really—to resume conversation between them. “So, if it’s really okay to ask, why do you prefer a stateroom and mess food to a house and cooking your own meals?”

  He chuckled. “I was born on Paradiso but grew up in a large city on Albion where no one gave a shit about anyone else. This is nice and personal, the people are reliable, and I know that for every Viljoen, there’s someone supportive like Doctor Oshiro. He mentored me into the Royal Navy.”

  “Oh. I suppose I can understand that then. I grew up in the capital city on Tallulah. Not as big as the cities on Albion, but not small. Just enough that most everyone knew everyone else’s business.”

  “No husband waiting back home for you?” />
  “Me? Hell no.” Thandie shook her head vehemently. “Actually, if you want to know the truth, I joined the marines to escape marriage.”

  “I’m told that the word ‘no’ also works.” A big grin spread over his face. “Poor bastard. I suppose he didn’t take that well.”

  She shrugged. “His family didn’t, but arranged marriages are an archaic tradition my planet decided to bring back into practice. I was seventeen and I didn’t want to be thrown at a stranger to become a… proper housewife.”

  Xander raised his brows. “That’s respectful. I couldn’t imagine marrying without feeling an emotional attachment.”

  “Exactly. So my folks practically disowned me, and we didn’t see each other again ’til after…” Thandie nodded at her right arm. “Funny how tragedy reunites people sometimes. They didn’t approve of my choice to remain in the service, but they didn’t fight me on it.”

  “Lucky me.”

  Her brows shot up. “Oh? How’s that?”

  “I mean, lucky for me and the squad.”

  “Uh huh… So, tell me what we’re watching, anyway.”

  He took a moment to explain the premise of the old horror flick, a dream demon who liked to prey on kids in a particular neighborhood, and then they fell into a companionable silence. There was something comforting about sitting beside him in the dim room sharing snacks, and he smelled good, something unidentifiable and spicy, like warm rum, leather, and cinnamon. She relaxed enough to lean in against his side and breathe him in. Xander curled his arm around her waist.

  At some point, Thandie must have dozed off, because the soothing caress of fingers through her hair stirred her awake. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.

  Wishing she could remain against him for hours longer, simply wrapped up in his arms, snuggled against a contrasting blend of hard muscle and the softness of his sweats, she burrowed in deeper and swept her arm over his chest.

  The drowse carried Thandie away again until the moment her hand fell in his lap.

  Her palm landed on an unmistakable bulge. Xander hissed in his breath, definitely not asleep and definitely aware of her accidental fondling. She jerked her hand back then darted her gaze up to his face and discovered their cuddling session had placed their lips mere inches apart.