Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “For now, yes. As soon as we’ve gathered everyone, we’ll turn it off. The sedative may have deleterious effects if it’s inhaled for an extended period, and I’m well aware that we had to leave Gruzinsky behind.”

  Gruzinsky. The soldier who’d seen her kiss Makkon. She dreaded the moment when he had the opportunity to share that information with Anise.

  “We’ve got four of the Glacians already though,” Anise said. “Five, including your big brute. It shouldn’t take long to find the last five.”

  Tamryn bristled at hearing Makkon called a brute, but she did not defend him aloud. She couldn’t bring attention to her feelings for him, not if she wanted to remain trusted and on duty. But already, her heart was quailing at the idea of locking him up until Fleet showed up to deal with him. Fleet would “deal” with these men by executing them. Given their crimes here on the station, it would be impossible to argue on their behalf—on Makkon’s behalf—for some less fatal punishment. But could she stand there and watch him be killed? What choice did she have?

  “Ah, there are two more.” Anise stopped at an intersection and waved for four red-suited women to go past.

  They operated two hover pallets laden with familiar faces. Dornic and the man who had been with him on the level above. When Makkon woke up, he would be regretting that he had listened to her and not taken them to the armory to look for combat suits that would fit. If he’d had backup—less treacherous backup than her—when he had jumped through that hole, he would have overpowered the scientists. He might have overpowered them all by himself if she hadn’t been working against him.

  Tamryn watched as the pallets floated past carrying the unconscious men, her thoughts grim. She should have been pleased—even jubilant—that the civilians had triumphed over the invaders, but all she could think about was that Fleet would execute Makkon. And that his people, people who had been spat upon by the rest of the system since their creation, would die down on that barren moon.

  “We’ll follow them,” Anise said, waving for Tamryn to tag along.

  They headed down the corridor, with thick vault doors to either side, all with control panels showing room conditions inside. Some of the temperatures were set to freezing and others to refrigeration. Some of the larger vaults also had cameras showing the racks and shelves inside.

  Tamryn did not miss that a pair of red-suited scientists carrying rifles was following the pallets. They were taking no chances, even though the Glacians appeared fully unconscious.

  Anise stopped in front of two vaults near the end of the corridor. Dornic and the other man were taken inside one with an open door, then dumped on the floor next to four of their unconscious comrades. The porters hurried outside, as if they were worried the men would wake at any moment and grab them and kill them. The thick vault door thudded shut. Not even an irritated, genetically engineered super human should be able to kick open that door. It had probably been designed to withstand pirates with blowtorches and explosives. A camera display on the control panel showed the unmoving men inside.

  Anise opened the door on the opposite side of the corridor, a smaller vault with shelves and racks that had been cleared of whatever the usual contents were. “Put him in there,” she said to the two men approaching with Makkon on a hover pallet.

  Nobody had bothered to remove his combat armor, though the helmet had been left behind. They were probably worried he would wake up and wanted to get him locked up as quickly as possible.

  “Thank you,” Anise said as the men pushed the pallet inside. “Now... Tam... Lieutenant Pavlenko...”

  “Yes?” Tamryn asked, not sure what to think of the return to formal titles.

  “I feel bad about doing this, and fully acknowledge that it’s probably not necessary, but I’m being pressured by the civilians who saw the camera.”

  “The camera?” Tamryn glanced at the display on the opposite vault.

  “The feed from the lounge.”

  Numbness crept through Tamryn’s body as she realized what Anise must mean. Apparently, Gruzinsky hadn’t been the only witness to that kiss.

  “You’ve been separated from us a lot,” Anise said, “and we don’t know what they might have done to you to... win your allegiance, but we saw you with that one.” She pointed toward Makkon, who had been dumped onto the floor. The civilians were backing out with the pallet.

  “They don’t have my allegiance,” Tamryn said, keeping her voice calm though she wanted to shout her denial. Anise was a scientist; reason was the way to appeal to her senses. Logic. “Didn’t I just help you bring him down? Without me fiddling with his suit, he might have taken down all of your people.”

  “We do appreciate your help, but how did he get into that armory in the first place? The idea was for everyone to be knocked unconscious. Then we could capture the enemy and sort out our people later.”

  “He followed me down to the armory. We—I—had no idea what kind of gas you were pushing out of the vents. For all I knew it was deadly. Also, it wasn’t as if he was going to let me run off without following me. I couldn’t stop him from getting into his own armor.” No need to mention that Tamryn had helped him put on his own set...

  “And the rest?” Anise raised her eyebrows.

  The rest? Was that supposed to be a reference to the kiss?

  “Look, I had to get him to trust me enough to let me run around with my hands free. You saw that I managed to get a weapon. I’m not proud that I had to resort to trickery, but it’s not as if I could overpower him.”

  “Hm.” Anise nodded, and Tamryn thought her explanation might have been logical enough.

  It was logical, wasn’t it? If she told that story to her superiors when Fleet arrived, would they believe it? Would she have a chance of keeping her career? Tamryn looked toward Makkon’s crumpled form on the icy floor of the refrigerator. If Fleet shot him, would she care about her career? Would she still want to be an officer in the organization that would destroy the last of a civilization of people?

  “What you say makes sense,” Anise said, “and I’m sure it wouldn’t be a chore to play along with such a scheme.” She smiled briefly, glancing at Makkon, and Tamryn recalled that she had been ready to climb all over him when she had been under the influence of that drug. “We’ll get it all sorted out when Fleet arrives. For now, I’m going to have to insist that you also remain locked up.”

  Anise extended a gloved hand toward the refrigerator vault.

  Tamryn slumped. “With him? From his point of view, I betrayed him.” She would have much preferred to be anywhere except in the same cell—vault—as him when he woke up. She remembered that hurt look he had given her as he had fallen to the floor and didn’t want to have to try to explain. Besides... “He might kill me when he wakes up.”

  “Somehow, I doubt he will,” Anise said, her eyes all too knowing. Maybe she knew that kiss had been real.

  “I’m not so sure. He’ll either kill me because he’s furious, or he’ll try to use me as a hostage.” Tamryn wondered if the scientists would even respond to a hostage threat. Did they care if one more soldier was killed? Especially one whom they believed had started working with the enemy? Would Anise care?

  “Perhaps you’ll have to kiss him to calm him down then.” Anise gestured again toward the vault, her meaning clear.

  Tamryn shook her head. Makkon was so dedicated to his mission that he would do anything to make sure he accomplished it, including sacrificing his life. And Tamryn’s.

  Still, she had no choice. The two civilians with the rifles remained in the corridor, and Anise was also armed. Tamryn walked inside. Before closing the vault, Anise followed her in to search her external pockets. She withdrew the pistol and grenades Tamryn had squirreled away. Would she make Tamryn get out of the armor? Inhale the gas and end up unconscious on the floor right next to Makkon?

  “You should know,” Tamryn said, “that there are three other people walking around in combat armor.”

  Ani
se stood with a start. “What? You helped other Glacians into them?”

  “No. I don’t know who they are, but I assume it’s one of the groups of pirates.”

  “Pirates?” Anise looked genuinely surprised. “We saw the video feeds from the outside of the Fleet ship. We thought the Glacians—and you—” there was that wary I-saw-you-help-them look again, “—had taken care of everyone on that ship.”

  “You know everyone still alive on that ship when we boarded was a pirate, right? That they’d already killed all of the Fleet officers, left them shoved up against the walls...” The memory could still make Tamryn’s throat tighten with emotion. Also, the notion that Anise and the others thought she might have helped Makkon’s people against Fleet soldiers filled her with horror.

  “I suspected it was something like that, but we couldn’t be certain. No cameras on the Felling Axe, of course, and the people who came out were all wearing Fleet combat armor. Also, we were escaping then and didn’t get to see any of the feed until later. Even then, afterward, we were busy putting together the gas attack. It’s been an eventful day.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “All right,” Anise said, backing away. “We’ll watch out for the pirates when we’re collecting the rest of the Glacians.”

  “Captain?” Tamryn no longer felt comfortable presuming a first-name basis with Anise. She reached out and touched the fire-retardant but flexible material of the hazmat suit. “Be careful. This isn’t rated for combat. A laser might cut right through that.”

  “I know.”

  “If you let me help, go out with you and Cox or whoever’s capable of fighting, I can probably override their suits, distract them so we can attack.”

  Anise hesitated, but ultimately shook her head. “We’ll handle them.”

  Before Tamryn could think up another argument, the door clanged shut. All the light had been provided from the corridor, and it disappeared, leaving her in darkness. She sighed and let her helmet clunk on the back of the door. Why couldn’t anything go right this week?

  Chapter 18

  When Makkon woke up, a headache throbbed behind his eyes, and his entire body hurt. He was in a dark, cold place, the side of his head numb from lying on an icy floor. He couldn’t guess where he was, not in the pitch-blackness, and it took him a moment to remember what he had been doing when he was knocked out. Then the memories came back with a lurch, his suit suddenly not cooperating, all those drugs injecting into his body, the net, and finally, Tamryn leaping onto him with a tranquilizer.

  He sighed and rolled onto his back, the armor making the motion clunky. Maybe he would take it off in a moment, but his body hurt, and he needed to recover before examining his dark prison and seeing if escape might be possible. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept—and being knocked unconscious hardly counted. Weariness dragged at him. Or maybe that was the feeling of defeat dragging at him.

  What a fool he had been. Jumping into that room with Tamryn at his back, as if she could be expected to choose to help him over her own people. Why couldn’t he remember that she was the enemy? Maybe it was because they had fought side by side against the pirates, and because they worked so well together when they had a common goal. Somehow, he had let himself forget, let his feelings muddle everything. He should have pulled his people into the lift, taken them to the armory, and found suits to fit them. Or he could have simply carried the men, the ones he could find, to some closet somewhere and waited out the gas. He doubted those scientists had an inexhaustible supply. Eventually, the air would have cleared, his people would have woken up, and he would have had true allies with whom to assault the civilian stronghold.

  As he lay there, berating himself, he gradually grew aware of something he should have noticed right off, had his senses not been muddied and as slow to recover as his mind. His nose and his ears told him that he wasn’t alone in this place. One other person sat in the dark with him, one who still smelled faintly of cleaning solution. Her armor must have been removed—or she had taken it off.

  “Are you my guard?” His voice felt raspy from disuse, and he wondered how long he had been out.

  Tamryn snorted. “I’m your fellow prisoner.”

  “Oh? That’s unexpected.”

  “Tell me about it. Apparently, the whole station knows that I kissed you, and my loyalty is now suspect.”

  “Even though you were the one who jabbed me in the neck with an injector and knocked me out?”

  Tamryn shifted, armor bumping against a wall. So, she hadn’t removed it after all. “Even though,” she said, her voice subdued. “I told Ani—Captain Porter that you’d probably kill me when you woke up, but she didn’t seem that concerned. I think they’ve already written me off,” she said, her voice turning bitter.

  Makkon recalled his research into her family and found that unlikely, though perhaps her colleagues had never done similar research. If she didn’t tell people about her kin, maybe none of them knew. Or maybe Captain Porter believed that Tamryn was in no danger from Makkon. If so, she was right. Makkon could be angry with no one except himself for falling into that trap. Tamryn had been doing her duty, as she had been all along. He might find that fact frustrating, but he didn’t hate her for it or wish her ill. No, as always, he found her fighting spirit and her loyalty appealing. Not for the first time, he wished she were one of his people, so her uniform wouldn’t be such a wall between them.

  “You don’t sound that worried.” Makkon pushed himself to his knees and patted his way to the wall she was sitting against. He found a door, instead of a wall, one that felt cold, metallic, and, when he knocked on it, extremely thick. Eventually, he would see if there might be a way to open it, but he sat beside Tamryn for now, his body needing a few minutes to recover. Besides, the thought crossed his mind that they were alone together in a dark room. There shouldn’t be any soldiers to witness their actions, if she decided she might be open to actions.

  “I’m not entirely unworried,” she said. “I figure sooner or later, you’re going to get sick of dealing with me and break my neck.”

  He grunted and pulled off the thin metal gloves protecting his hands. “Do you truly believe that?” He reached out, finding her face in the dark, brushing his palm along her cheek.

  “I... can’t understand why you wouldn’t.”

  “Can’t you?” Makkon murmured, using the feel of her face to guide him in the dark, to find her lips with his. They were cold—her skin was too. She wouldn’t be as accustomed to the frosty air as he was. If she hadn’t been wearing her full armor, aside from her helmet, he would have cradled her in his arms to warm her up. Of course, his armor would have laid between them too. Someday, he wanted to kiss her while neither of them wore any clothing.

  At first, she didn’t respond to his kiss—indeed, she seemed startled, but he sucked gently at her lower lip while sliding his hand around to the back of her head. Earlier, she’d seemed to enjoy his massages. Even if he couldn’t get to the rest of her now, he could knead her scalp and rub her neck.

  He was rewarded by the relaxation of her muscles—and her lips. She turned toward him, kissing him back now. The air in their prison was chilly, but his body soon heated. That heat did wonders to rejuvenate his battered muscles, and he suddenly felt as if he could do all manner of acrobatics if she crooked her finger and suggested there might be a reward for doing so.

  Even as he had these thoughts, he knew he was smitten—and an idiot for falling for someone who could never be on his side. Brax would certainly tell him that. But he couldn’t help it. The more she fought him, the more he wanted her. The way she kept successfully evading him and coming so close to defeating him—in this case, she had defeated him—only made him want her more.

  He hadn’t meant to do anything except kiss her, to pass a few pleasant moments before examining their prison, but he should have known better. How many times had far less than her kiss aroused him to painful measures, forcing him to crawl
off into a corner to sate himself? Now that they were alone together, with little chance of being interrupted any time soon, might she consider a more satisfying ending? For them both?

  He groaned, sliding his hand down her chest, only to be frustrated by the featureless armor there rather than the soft curves of her breasts.

  Tamryn broke the kiss, drawing back. “Makk, I—we... You know I’m one of the reasons all of your men are locked up, right now? Right? I don’t understand how you can’t hate me.”

  “All of them are locked up?”

  “I think so. I saw Anise’s people pushing them into the vault across the corridor.”

  Well, if he could get out of here, that would make a rescue fairly easy. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to stop kissing Tamryn. Even as she whispered her protests, his lips drifted down her throat, bringing their warmth to her cool skin.

  “It should be obvious that I don’t hate you,” he murmured, following a tendon with his tongue, tasting her skin, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and her body. “I do wish you were on my side, that you were one of my people and that we could fight together always, instead of only sporadically when we have a common enemy.” He nibbled his way up to her earlobe and sucked it, teasing it with his teeth, and he was rewarded with a soft gasp.

  Tamryn lifted a hand to the side of his head, pushing it through his hair. Her touch sent a surge of desire through him; he didn’t even care that she was still wearing the gauntlets of her armor. “I wish we weren’t enemies too,” she whispered, kissing him back for the first time. “What you told me... I feel for your people. I understand your passion to help them. But I can’t betray my own people.” She kissed him harder, eagerness guiding her lips, and her other hand found his shoulder.

  “Even when they lock you in a vault with a madman?” he murmured.

  “You’re not mad. You’re determined.”

  “Very determined. Would you let me get you out of that armor? Determinedly?”

  Her lips stilled, and she must have been looking at his face, though she would not have seen any more in their dark prison than he could. She continued to stroke her fingers through his hair, so he didn’t take the silence as an outright rejection, but as a consideration. Did she want to have sex with him? Would she freeze if she took off the armor with its self-regulating internal temperature? Would her people catch her doing something far worse than kissing the enemy?