by Imogene Nix
Duvall had heard her talk of the orphanage where she’d grown up, of the hardships, but she wasn’t hard because of it. Unlike him.
Over the years, Duvall allowed the Admiralty to mold him into a fighter and a protector, yet there he was, asking her to take risks. He’d have to stand back and hope their side of the ledger was stronger.
“What’s wrong with me?”
She stirred in her sleep, and he pulled her closer, glad she wasn’t awake to hear his fears. He shoved them firmly back into the box in his head, along with the other confusing emotion. The one labeled commitment and entanglement. But it was a long time before sleep came.
* * * *
Awareness fluttered through Mellissa’s brain as she slowly woke. He held her close in his arms, and she felt loved and protected. Things had moved fast, almost too fast, and there was no permanence implied. The feelings that coursed through her swirled around in her mind. Talk about jumping feet first into something. Not that she regretted it. The most amazing passion had surprised her.
In his arms, she’d experienced something she’d never felt before. Sure, sex had been satisfying, but she felt as if this promised so much more. The thought brought her up short. He didn’t promise anything, Mel.
Even as she told herself that her heart ached at the thought of giving him up. But she wouldn’t hold him if it didn’t work out. She wasn’t cruel. After all, she’d done well by herself up until now. She could do it again.
A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, and she dashed it away. Her heart argued that after an encounter like that, just maybe, she might find more to this than just lust.
Turning in his arms, she snuggled closer. He woke, turned, and smiled softly. Her heart nearly stopped, and she reached over to touch his face. He dipped his head down and captured her lips.
This time, the loving was soft, hands sliding over skin and soft sighs. And when they finally became one, the emotions filled her.
They slept again, holding tight to the other through the night.
Chapter 5
Bing! Bing! Mellissa’s pleasant dreams of a broad-shouldered Duvall holding his body to hers shattered in an instant.
Her eyes snapped open and shock ricocheted. Naked. With her. Holding her. Loving her. Hang on. She was…he was…The memories of the night came back. Mellissa blushed.
They had made love several times throughout the night, napping in between. What a lover, she thought, then squirmed. God! Her face heated as she remembered exactly what they had done—and how many times. His loving both voracious but also tender, Duvall had ensured that whatever they did, they were both fully invested—and boy, did she feel! Something she had certainly never experienced before. She rolled over, startled to see his eyes open, watching her.
“Good morning.” Duvall rolled toward her, his mouth descending for a quick, passionate encounter with her mouth. The kiss scorched her.
He seemed regretful as he rose. “We need to dress and be ready. It’s nearly 0600, and there’s a meeting in my ready room in an hour. I need to check in with the bridge first.” His eyes rested on her for a moment longer, then, regretfully, she thought, he turned away.
Unashamed of his nudity, he wandered around picking up his scattered clothing. She could appreciate that body, she thought. He was all long, lean flanks and miles of smooth skin. Duvall’s body was muscular and warm. Mellissa grinned to herself as her gaze ate up the view. Never before would she have ever described herself as a sexual being. He’d brought that out in her. He’d held that body close to hers all night. Just remembering, she could feel herself get hot all over again.
“Uh, my clothes?”
The wolfish grin he gave her stole the oxygen from her lungs, and he gestured to the floor where her panties and bra lay strewn. Getting up, she reached for her clothes and quickly threw them on.
“Hurry up, and I’ll grab us both a coffee.” Mellissa needed a minute or two to get her mind on the task before any crewmembers arrived in the ready room, and to perk her mind up. What if they can tell? Embarrassment clawed at her. With a shake of the head, Mellissa reminded herself that she needed to work out her role in the skirmish ahead. Sure, her part was simple—be the bait—but inattention could bring the whole mess down in a heap.
Within the hour, they both waited in his office, strong coffees in hand, watching as the others entered the room. Duvall sat with Grayson, talking about the night just past, inquiring if there were issues with the ship, and the things she supposed that a stealth ship captain needed to know at the beginning of his shift. She watched his face and hands. His body. She could tell that he was confident in his role and that his crew obviously respected him.
Elara cast her a long, measuring look that said I know what happened, and Mellissa privately acknowledged that while she felt a little discomforted that the other woman somehow knew, she wasn’t embarrassed.
She almost asked what had changed about her. Had she acquired some kind of glow? Were there whisker burns on her face? She slumped in the chair as she mulled over how this strange woman, who didn’t really know her, had worked it out. When she took another deep gulp of coffee, Mellissa choked, her concentration still centered on the disturbing thought.
Elara’s eyes glinted with amusement. “It’s okay. No one else has worked it out.”
“But…” Mellissa shook her head, not sure she wanted to know.
Duvall cleared his throat after the briefing with Grayson had concluded just as Chowd entered the office, then the three rehashed the briefing from the night before. Elara’s statement had been correct as the rest had allowed them to refresh their batteries.
They sat in the same chairs they had yesterday, ready to discuss the strategy. Mellissa listened intently but found it hard to follow, many of the terms they used beyond her understanding. She felt at a disadvantage but knew she had an opportunity not just with the upcoming skirmish, but with this new future, to do something amazing. To belong.
“We need to ensure that whoever is behind these attacks doesn’t work out this is a ruse,” Chowd said. “They need to be off-balance so we can get the maximum benefit from this little show.” Grayson looked at Duvall expectantly. “I suggest waiting until tomorrow morning. One of us calls a minor emergency. Something believable but not highly technical. Given we don’t know who is the infiltrator, they could be in any section, including engineering, security, or even on the bridge, so it has to be something that we can create and fix without assistance. The only section we can be sure of is medical.” He glanced quickly at Elara.
“Suggestions?” requested Duvall, who had got up and paced close to Mellissa.
Both Chowd and Grayson shot assessing glances in her direction, and she reminded herself it would be unlikely that they guessed what had happened. Yet, from their questioning expressions, it seemed unlikely that this was the usual behavior from their captain.
Chowd ran his fingers through his hair. “I can rig a minor glitch to the environs system. A small tweak would ensure one section has a buildup within a valve. It’s fairly simple to engineer something along those lines. It’s not unexpected in a new vessel on her first major voyage to have these kinds of glitches, and especially after yesterday and all the smoke.” He stopped for a moment as if examining a thought, then resumed talking again. “I would require at least moderate input from the captain and Grayson, which means they wouldn’t be on the bridge.”
Grunts of approval came from the men around the table.
“There would be a secondary requirement for the security detail.” Chowd stopped and shook his head, his brow furrowed. “I can arrange a mix-up in the security detail, that way it will seem as if everyone’s bumbling around, unsure of who’s on safety patrol.”
“I don’t think that would work,” Elara piped in. “What about a test that’s required by the SurgiTech, taking the security officer away for a minimal period? During this time, Mellissa could be within the cabin unattended or the office undertaking
further training. Those are both believable scenarios.”
The men looked at her, evaluating and weighing, and slowly, one by one, they nodded agreement.
“We’d still need the security patrol.” Chowd leaned forward, and Elara nodded.
“We would need to assure Mellissa’s protection,” Duvall spoke sharply.
Once everyone had agreed, the officers assembled dipped their heads, and all seemed engrossed in other things, notes or handscreens. She sighed and looked in Duvall’s direction. He frowned, clearly surprised they’d caught on. Elara had told her they hadn’t, but it seemed as if his actions right now, his bald direction to them, had tipped them off.
She wanted to tell him that it was his possessive reaction that had affirmed their suspicions. Mellissa decided it was best to keep that to herself.
“I believe an officer in the crawl space, another in your cabin, and a tracer disc inside Mellissa’s clothing would allow us to monitor her at all times,” reassured Chowd.
“What time would we need to begin this?” Mellissa asked, suddenly feeling a little scared.
She looked at Duvall, seeking his assurance. The reality of the gravity of the situation hit once more and rocked her. She knew, no matter what protective actions they took, it could still go wrong. And this thing with Duvall, so new and precious, could be lost with one false step. His face appeared tight, and yet he reassured her with a sharp nod. She breathed again.
“Around 1000 hours would be believable.”
Duvall moved back to his seat. “No. Tonight. We need this done quickly. The longer it drags, the more damage that can be done.”
Chowd pursed his lips. “I could argue your decision.”
Duvall gave a tight smile. “You could, but you won’t.”
“Of course, Captain.”
“Just get on with it.”
Elara snickered as Duvall spoke, and Mellissa could barely restrain the headshake.
“We don’t want it to look like it is set up, and first thing in the day would smell like the set up it will actually be. We need to go about the day as usual, briefings and so on. Act in the way the crew are used to.” Chowd nodded to himself as if carrying on an internal conversation. “By doing this, we can lull the saboteur into thinking everything is back to normal.”
Elara nodded. “Even this meeting has been covered by the usual post-mortem reporting, so there can be no questions raised.”
A chorus of grunts met her words. When Elara glanced in Mellissa’s direction, she was frowning again.
“Since Elara is here, this fiction raises no questions among the crew.” Chowd’s gaze returned to his handscreen and he tapped something in.
“Captain, I believe that this all sounds quite plausible,” stated Grayson from his seat. “But we need to take them alive. Who knows what information we will glean if we have the opportunity to interrogate them? They may even know the location of Crick Sur Banden and we’ll be able to complete our mission before returning to the Admiralty.”
Mellissa questioned the choice she’d made to agree to this plan. It was crazy. Insane. She didn’t want to be here, yet she’d agreed. Now the reality impinged—she was to act as bait. Although her fears left her pulse racing, she wouldn’t go back on her word.
“How will we ensure everyone is in place?” Mellissa asked.
“Simple. Any planning must be done now, then there’s no excuse for further contact. We have a fail-safe word or action, but any other contact needs to be either social after our shifts, or purely Elector related. No one will question the social side as we all served on the Ishtar together,” Grayson assured her. “Above all though, whatever is said, we have to remain in character. Go about our daily tasks.”
“We need a time plan, Captain. I would suggest we aim for 1830 hours. After the shift change so there will be few in this area as we place our key personnel.” Chowd spoke quietly, his words pulling them back to the body of the plan. “I can have the support crew in place in the crawl space by 1800 hours. The security detail will be in place at about the same time. That way they can dribble in and be in place well before the time we are planning to run the ruse. I can have them booked into the holodeck for a training session.”
The others gathered around the table nodded.
“I will personally handpick the security crew and place them. Most have been with me long enough that I’m sure of their loyalties, and I’ll set duties to keep the others busy and away from this location.” Chowd seemed comfortable with his decisions and laid down his handscreen. “Once they’re in place, we need to maintain radio silence,” he reminded them quietly.
“Good. Make sure everything is ready, Chowd. This absolutely must go to plan. I want the final rundown tonight by 1500 hours, maybe over a coffee here in my ready room. If you must contact me, secured channels only. Dismissed.”
They all stood together, and without much more than a murmured word, trailed out, the only exception being Elara. She placed a hand on Mellissa’s shoulder, giving it a brief squeeze and shooting a questioning look over to Duvall before she too left.
Mellissa could see Duvall’s worry. Could read it in the way his eyes moved and the tense set of his jaw. She wondered whether setting the trap or their situation made him most uncomfortable.
She took a chance and stepped toward him. “Duvall? I haven’t asked for a commitment, and you haven’t offered one.” Her lips quivered and she wondered if she’d done the right thing.
You can do this. But even thinking it hurt. However, if this was a problem, she needed to set his mind at rest, not make him feel trapped. Take the pleasure he offered and let it last her for as long as it would.
“And I know you will do everything you can to ensure my safety. I trust you.” She smiled quickly before turning toward the desk screen and sitting down in preparation for logging into the sessions she needed to take.
Her chest hurt. There was more at stake than her feelings over what could be a brief fling. He remained quiet, and she told herself it was the right step, to reassure him she wasn’t some kind of clinging female. With great effort, Mellissa forced her mind away from this relationship that wasn’t and focused on the mission. A wondering why was nagging at her. Why her? What made them choose her as a target?
She looked up and saw Duvall watching her, his face closed as if he were trying to hold in something. A frisson of emotion arced through the air between them. Deep and dark. She shivered.
Finally, Duvall excused himself. “I’m needed on the bridge.” He hailed the security officer as he left.
Mellissa sat alone at the conference table and dropped her head into her hands. “How the hell am I going to get through this?”
There wasn’t an answer. Only the sound of the door chime, heralding the arrival of the female officer.
* * * *
Mellissa spent the day familiarizing herself with the technological advances that had happened since her time.
“There’s no use in trying to find work until I understand where it all came from.”
Sharia, her security officer, gave a laugh. “I can’t understand how you got by without commbadges and using currency.”
“Money.” Her correction had Sharia nodding.
“I could never remember that in Ancient History.”
Mellissa winced at Sharia’s words before returning to the vidscreen and the documentary she was watching. Perhaps that was where her future lay? Teaching others about her past. Maybe in a university or museum. The moment of excitement passed when Mellissa considered that she’d be something of an antique.
“I wonder what work might be available for me once we reach the Admiralty?” Mellissa said.
Sharia glanced in her direction. “It will depend on what useful skills you have.”
Clearly, Mellissa needed some kind of plan for the end of the journey. Her brief time aboard the Elector had whetted her appetite for interstellar travel. She knew her skills were neither innovative or of the new
time she would inhabit, but she felt sure that she could learn quickly and become useful. Adaptability was a skill she had in spades.
Besides which, everyone important to her would be gone. She worried about the effects this would have on those left behind, especially Jemma. They’d held together since their time in the orphanage. The thought that she’d be gone and Jemma never know what happened… She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath before returning to her work.
Perhaps the Admiralty needed a researcher? Someone with knowledge of her time? The question kept her busy for some time, formulating a plan of attack.
A thought bloomed. Maybe Duvall needed someone with her skills to ferret out information here on the Elector? She filed that away as something she could consider and discuss down the track.
Mind you, it seemed that Duvall was laboring under the tense cloud as well. He had spoken about his concern that no transmission had arrived from the Admiralty, and he’d been white-lipped while worrying about his sister, WO Gentry.
He explained the bouncing of transmissions through the slipstream when she queried him, further adding to her store of knowledge and surprising her that they’d found a way to communicate through time. There’d been more than just a thread of frustration and anger in his tone as he informed her that this kind of radio silence wasn’t unusual.
His explanation that her family had fostered him and their relationship was familial had washed away the traces of jealousy she felt when first hearing of Meredith. It didn’t soothe his concerns that he hadn’t he heard from Admiral Elphin, his long-time mentor.
When he dipped his head into the alcove she shot a smile in his direction. “I just wanted to check in and see how things are progressing.”
“They’re going great, Duvall. I think I’m mastering the commdesk and the vidscreen, see?” She swiveled the screen so he could see. Then she sobered and leaned toward him. “Any news?”
Surely by now he’d have some kind of communication with Admiralty, but the frown chased those thoughts away and she knew he’d understood her question.