by M. D. Cooper
Guess my training is still in there somewhere.
President Charles nodded his thanks as Admiral Manda gestured for the soldiers to take custody of Paul and guide him into a nearby building. The look on her brother’s face was one of resolute stoicism, but she could tell by his gait that he was a beaten man.
The president turned toward the building—which bore the name ‘SAFI Memorial Tower’—and gestured for Kylie to follow.
From her time in the space force, she knew that SAFI was the intelligence branch, and was glad that they’d at least be getting right to all the long talks held with glowering interrogators.
“We have a long day ahead of us,” the president said, echoing Kylie’s sentiment. “But thank you, Captain Rhoads. There’s an observation room, if you wish to watch as we speak with your brother. Or we can escort you to one of our lounges. Have a shower, clean up. Enjoy some cakes and coffee—I had them brought in from my private kitchen. Everything’s set up in the tenth floor officer’s lounge.”
Kylie could feel Rogers’ building excitement, and suddenly realized that the pilot was carrying the cat, who was now struggling to get free—likely because he’d heard the word ‘cake’.
He peered at her with the saddest cat face on the planet.
Mr. Fizzle Pop stopped struggling.
“Thank you, Mr. President. I think my pilot would love that, but I’d like to observe my brother. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, and it’s expected. My sympathies are with you, but I’m grateful for what you’ve done. My assistant will show your crewmember to the lounge.”
Rogers touched Kylie’s arm. “You sure about this, Cap? I can stay with you. Make you laugh when things get tough in there.”
“I’m sure. Relax and have a good meal. Keep an eye on the cat. Ricket’s checked in that the scene is secure, and I’m sure she’ll find you when she arrives. I just need some time alone. See Paul and what he’s going to say. Or do. I’m hoping that soon, I’ll be able to let this all go.”
“If that’s really what you want, I’d be more than happy to overeat on your behalf.”
Kylie smiled despite herself. “That makes me happy, as you always do.”
“I always overeat?” Rogers asked.
“No, you make me happy.”
An officer stood nearby, waiting for Kylie to wrap up her conversation, and she gestured for Rogers to follow after the man. Her pilot and the cat disappeared around the corner, and the president—who did not seem fazed to see a cat involved in the delivery of one of Silstrand’s most wanted—led Kylie to the observation room.
“I’ll leave you here,” the man said, and then she was alone.
Inside was a table, some chairs, plus a full holo of the interrogation room in the center. A viewer could walk around the display, even into the image, looking directly at the eyes of the prisoner—should one so wish.
Kylie didn’t. That prisoner was her brother, and he sat hunched over in his seat, his elbows pressed against the metal table. He looked so small and so fragile, Kylie wanted to protect him.
Save him.
That time was long past, but she didn’t know how to let it go. Paul’s actions had led him here. He alone was responsible for his predicament, yet she was left with nothing but regret.
She tried to remember what he had done during his attempted escape. That his daughter had nearly killed Kylie’s crew. Paul was a liar, a manipulator, and a coward.
But how Kylie still loved him. How she wanted to save her family. A family she had abandoned and left behind. Maybe she could’ve stopped it if only she had bothered to try.
Kylie wiped away a stray tear from her face as the heartbreak in her chest built like a runaway boulder, tumbling down the mountain.
She had always known, hadn’t she?
Kylie could feel Marge’s words were true. She just wished things were different.
Marge sighed.
Kylie turned back to the viewing window and saw that Admiral Manda had sat down. Paul sat more erect as he answered her questions.
“We were all groomed from an early age, but none more than me. Taking a stand against Father wasn’t something that was done. I had to be a good son. David was, well, a simpleton.”
“And Kylie,” Paul smiled at the viewing window, as if he knew she was there, “well, she was the family princess. Being a girl, her transgressions were forgiven, even if unsightly. Father viewed them as an embarrassment at first, but the longer she spent away, the more he forgave her. The more he forgot how she turned her back on all of us.”
Kylie bent her head down low, feeling like he could see right through the holodisplay and into her eyes.
Marge said with a wink.
Grayson? So soon?
Kylie turned around and saw Grayson entering the room. He removed his cap when he saw Kylie, and all thoughts of her brother melted away. Grayson’s face was bruised and there was dust on his shoulder and pants. His careful gait indicated that he had been hurt, but nothing life-threatening.
Nothing serious.
“We managed to capture a few of the people responsible for the attack,” he said without preamble. “The guy running it was a disgraced noncom, dishonorably discharged a few years ago. He’d hired members of a local gang and supplied them with some of the weapons seized from your family’s fleet. Cobbled together missile targeting system, if you can believe that. Surprised the damn thing worked.”
He took a step forward, slowly closing the gap between them.
Kylie stepped away from the holo and muted the conversation that had just started up—some simple stating of names and charges. “Given some of the stuff they had on my father’s fleet, it’s hard to believe he didn’t blow himself up.”
Grayson chuckled. “Indeed. We got everyone in custody. Three of our people in the infirmary, but they’ll be fine.”
“And Ricket? She returned with you?”
“Yes,” Grayson said while raising his eyebrows. “She was good in the thick of it out there. She’s speaking with one of the guys we brought in—made a good case for being able to get what we need out of him.”
“She’s a hell of a fighter. A good friend, too. I don’t know if I would’ve made it without her.”
“Well, then, thank the stars for small favors.” Grayson let out a long sigh. “There’s a lot to tell you. A lot I want to say.”
Kylie, too, had many things she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure words were the best way to express herself
. “And I can’t wait to hear all of it. I’m happy we’re finally going to get the chance.”
Grayson placed his hand on hers. “It was all too easy, truth be told. I’m worr—concerned—for what might be coming next.”
“We’ll be vigilant.” Kylie stepped closer, nearly feeling Grayson’s breath on her. She touched the cut above his eyebrow, and he flinched. “Oh, come on, big, strong military man.”
“It’s a cut. You’re not supposed to touch it.”
Kylie smirked. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. Is that so bad?”
“No, I think it’s quite the opposite of bad.” He sighed with a raise of his eyebrows. “There’s so much I’d like to say; I’m not sure where to start.”
“Let’s start at the end, where we both apologize. We both accept. And then I kiss you.”
“Hmm,” Grayson murmured, “I think I like the sound of that arrangement.”
“Good, because I should’ve done it before I raced out to find Paul. I should’ve showed you then, what I’m going to show you now.” Kylie couldn’t take being that close to him any longer. She reached up, placing her hands on his cheeks as she kissed him.
He took her in his arms, his hands caressing her waist, and Kylie slid an arm down around his shoulders, pulling herself tightly against him. She nuzzled her nose against his cheek, and their lips turned toward each other again.
“Well,” Grayson muttered, “this is better than the previous greeting you gave me.”
“You said you understood. You didn’t mind.”
“Well, I lied.” He nearly laughed, and Kylie took joy in hearing it as she rested her head against his shoulder.
“If you make me nervous, it’s your fault.”
He held her and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Your reports left out all the things I know you were feeling. I’m sorry you went through that alone.”
“I had my crew, and an uplifted cat.”
“Stars,” Grayson whispered. “Might be better to be alone.”
Kylie half agreed with him, even though Mr. Fizzle Pop was growing on her. She gazed back at the holo. Grayson placed his fingers against her chin, bringing her gaze back to meet his.
“I’m taking you out tonight for wine. Pasta. Maybe even dessert. You deserve a night off. When was the last time you went out for dinner when it wasn’t part of a job?”
Kylie appreciated the idea. She really wanted a night off—she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had one. She wanted to go on a date, and it lifted her heart, but…
“With Paul, I can’t….”
“He’s safe in our custody now, and we’ll send half the space force along when he’s transferred to Clipper Island—which you know is the most fortified dirtside prison in the Silstrand Alliance. No one will get to him. He’ll be fine.”
An image of Marge tapping her foot appeared in Kylie’s mind, and she couldn’t hold out any longer.
Rogers let out whoops of joy, and Mr. Fizzle Pop added a joyful,
“All right,” Kylie smirked and leaned in to kiss Grayson’s chin. “Marge is going to beat a drum in my head if I don’t go out with you. But I have nothing to wear.”
Grayson took her hand in his. His fingers curled around hers, and Kylie melted on the inside. “I can arrange for a shopping trip beforehand. A reunion like this can’t take place without the proper dress.”
Alice added.
Kylie’s eyes widened in surprise. “You didn’t say you had gotten a new AI, Gray.”
“Sorry, I guess it slipped my mind. Alice, Kylie, Marge, and vice versa. I think you’ll get along famously.”
Marge giggled.
Grayson was grinning, a rare sight, but his smile fell unexpectedly, and Kylie wondered what it was he wasn’t telling her. Well, edit that—what he hadn’t told her yet. They had spent so much time apart; there was so much to catch up on.
Kylie wished they could do a data dump and call it a day.
A moment later, there was a knock, and the door was pulled open. A lieutenant general stood in the entrance, her expression stern and her hair pulled severely back in a professional twist that brought Kylie’s anxiety back.
Nothing said ‘upper career officer who never saw combat’ like the professional hair twist.
“Captain Rhoads, I assume? I’m General Matilda Franks. I’m here to debrief you. If you prefer, you may call me ‘Mattie’.”
Kylie glanced at Grayson, whose stony face was unreadable.
His eyebrow twitched slightly.
Kylie cleared her throat. “I sent my reports in ahead of time. Soon as we popped out of FTL. If you review them—”
“Yes, yes,” Matilda waved her hand around. “All well and good, but we have a few questions about your actions on Dante. It won’t take long to clear up.”
Kylie said with a fair bit of grump.
He chuckled.
An eternity when it came to answering questions. Kylie could feel her face scrunching up.
“Come with me, please. If you’ll excuse us, Colonel.” Matilda placed a hand on Kylie’s shoulder and led her away. “Do you prefer coffee or tea? Decaf?”
“The more caffeine the better.”
“Oh!” Matilda’s eyes lit up. “A matcha green tea, then?”
“Coffee,” Kylie grumbled, even as she tried to keep the roar out of her voice. “I’ll stick with coffee.”
TARGET
STELLAR DATE: 02.18.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Delphin Reach, Silstrand City, Silstrand
REGION: Silstrand System, Silstrand Alliance
The prisoner’s eyes were squeezed shut against the bright lights as he slouched at the interrogation table—which was a bit of a feat, with his wrists restrained behind his back. He wore an old leather jacket, grungy ripped pants, and looked like he hadn’t shaved in days.
Ricket had seen a lot of assassins, political activists gone radical, and people who just had a grudge, but this guy didn’t seem like he fit into any of those categories.
She’d made her observations while standing in the open doorway, and once they were made, entered the room and slammed the door to get a reaction.
He jumped. Clearly, the guy wasn’t a hardened professional, even if he had managed to rise to the r
ank of major in the SSF. He obviously hadn’t been the cream of the crop.
Ricket ignored her AI’s jibe and spun the empty metal chair around, dragging its leg across the ground. She watched Grunt shudder, as though the noise really got under his skin.
“Grunt, my name’s Ricket. It’d be real nice if you opened your eyes and looked at me, so we can have a proper conversation.”
He grimaced like the sound of her voice was just as bad as the chair, and she wondered if something else was up with the man.
“Grunt, huh?” she pressed. “Is that the name your Momma gave you?”
Silence.
“Fair warning, though this room can monitor your vitals, I flicked a passel of nano onto your arm. It’s going to make sure you’re not hiding anything in your responses, OK? It’ll tell me whether you’re in distress or not.”
“You mean whether I’m lying.” Grunt finally opened his eyes, and Ricket was surprised to see some low-level bionic mods at work.
“If that’s how you choose to interpret it,” Ricket continued her conversation with Grunt as she listened to Laura.
“Can I say no? Can I refuse to be monitored?”
“Grunt,” Ricket sighed and folded her hands on the table. “We found you in possession of a stolen STA missile launching system. You attacked an SSF convoy. The military isn’t going to care what you say. The best you can do is tell me who told you to attack the convoy. Because—and I’m just going out on a limb here—I’m guessing it wasn’t your idea.”