by Imogene Nix
“I applied to be on the Star of Ishtar when there was an opening for a SurgiTech so I would be on the same ship as my friends Duvall and Grayson. When we were finally deployed together, things happened. Mind you, I had to help it along somewhat.” She smiled. “Duvall is great too,” she added coyly, whipping a quick look at Mellissa then turning back to her diagnostic instruments.
“Yeah, he is,” answered Mellissa. “The best.”
Elara turned around. “You know, Duvall isn’t really quick to trust, yet he somehow seems quite different with you. I don’t know. Maybe it’s not my place to say anything, but if your feelings aren’t deep, please be honest with him.” She looked at Mellissa with a piercing gaze, then her face softened. “But that’s not really the case with you, is it? You have feelings for him?” She smiled at Mellissa, who stared, before she continued, “I hope it works out for you two. He is so much more…I don’t know, human? Relaxed? Comfortable, even? With you. I’d like to see him happy and settled. Well, as settled as he can be.” She chuckled.
Motioning toward a machine, she changed the subject.
“Come on, let me show you how a bone regen works.” She picked up a tiny box with straps extruding. Its lights flashed, and Elara continued to show Mellissa the marvels of the time.
* * * *
On the bridge, Grayson handled a range of day-to-day matters while Duvall worked through the background files they had downloaded on Corbin Jard. Nothing really stuck out as to why he would turn traitor, just the information they had already gleaned.
No single opportunity existed for an engineer to meet with one of the Ru’Edan except on Rubicon VII, as Jard had according to his dossier. It worried him that at some point an officer with whom he served had turned his back on his race and people and aligned with some of the worst sort of murderers. How did the opportunity arise? The question plagued Duvall.
He slipped through the list of postings in case there was more to this situation. The Crede under Vosman, the Explorer, and even the Inflector. All Star Cruisers, but not in senior posts. The Meritorious and the Bountiful. Hang on. Didn’t the Bountiful carry some diplomats from the Ru’Edan? He quickly keyed in the dates; briefly, his spirits rose. Maybe he had blown the situation out of proportion. The answer came back.
No. No match. “Barsha!” he muttered under his breath.
“Captain? We are on approach to Aenna. Ground Control is requesting our commsig.” The routine of planetary docking intruded on his thoughts.
“Thanks.” He tabbed the mic. “All stations to position. Entering Aenna space in three minutes. Find your seats and buckle in.”
He’d given Elara instructions to bring Mellissa to the bridge as they prepared for the approach. He knew she’d enjoy the view.
Meanwhile, he had some communicating to do. He tabbed the secondary mic. “Aenna Ground Control, this is Captain Duvall McCord of the Elector. Requesting final approach to Admiralty.” He waited for the response.
“Aenna GC, Elector. You are cleared for approach. Hangar A33-Z2. Commence your approach. Approximate entry in five minutes from my mark. Aenna GC out.”
The bridge became a hive of activity as his people filed in, taking their places. The low hum of the engines, the buzzing of communicators, and the flashing of lights as information streamed through the viewscreen settled him briefly with their familiarity. Everything and everyone worked at their tasks. Updates on every aspect of the ship and preparations flicked to his desk screen.
He knew the instant Mellissa had arrived on the bridge, making her way to the seat she had filled earlier, strapping in and preparing for the entry to Aenna. Her gaze briefly flicked to his, and she gifted him a small, private smile before her gaze moved once more to the large screen at the front of the bridge.
Aenna rose on the viewscreen, light gray with domes filled with light, a pillar of darker gray rising in the black sky, and beyond it a field of smaller gray objects. They moved closer and closer, thrusters employed to keep them on a true approach. The ship moved and swayed around other items as it made its way toward the hulking asteroid-sized planet they aimed for. He concentrated on the approach, watching the information still scrolling on the screen.
His people were well trained and the approach smooth. The largest gray structure they headed for came into view, rimmed with lights. He tensed briefly then relaxed his muscles; watching the ship maneuver into dock always affected him. The ship slowed as it moved into the hulking structure getting lower and lower toward the ground.
When the ship finally entered the hangar and landed, the hangar doors closed behind them, the vision from the rear of the ship filling the viewscreen. He once more tabbed the mic. “Well done. Complete the shut-down sequence and await further orders. Captain out.”
A tinny voice filled the air. “Welcome back to Aenna, Elector. Please ensure any flight crew not required within the base remain on ship. Captain, please alert us when you are ready to disembark. You’ll need to move through the hangar to the end entrance and make your presence known to the staff before proceeding to your meetings. Ground Control out.”
“Ahh, the voice of bureaucracy.” He smiled.
Of course, landing at Aenna wouldn’t be complete without signing the appropriate paperwork. His eyes swept over the bridge. Time to get the ball rolling.
* * * *
He unclipped his safety belt and took a few steps to Mellissa. “Come on. Let’s go find the Admiral. Grayson and Sudonne are with me.”
The four turned through the doorway together. She knew Duvall had completed his mission, and he required her with him for the reporting. He’d earlier pointed out that ensuring the Admiralty took note of her assistance would work in her favor.
She could only hope that now the Admiral made an order for her placement aboard the Elector. She watched Duvall, wondering if he was about to request another security officer based on the information that had been uncovered, but he obviously thought differently about it.
Mellissa felt a frisson of something close to anticipation tinged with fear. What would the Admiral say, and would they allow her to stay with Duvall? The fear swirled inside her. All I need is courage. This is a time for new beginnings.
Their footsteps clanked as they made their way along the corridors of the Elector.
They went to the rear of the ship, and the ramp descended with a groan while they waited. They exited the ship into the large hanger, and she couldn’t help but gape at the sights before her. Great big walls of gray metal rose from a concrete base, and large lights beat down upon them, making it heated after the cooler atmosphere within the Elector. Beyond, near the walls, what looked like glass barriers rose from floor to ceiling, and workers swarmed in and out of these areas.
“This is huge.” She could tell the scaffolding around the shed also served a second purpose—to hold crane-like structures and lighting.
Bodies seemed to swarm over the Elector, which rose like a great bird within the hanger. They worked without speaking, the only sounds the creak and groan of metals and equipment. The Elector itself sat in the giant hanger, black and sleek with only simple writing in white on the side that she could see, the occasional light shining on its gleaming hull.
“How… When…” She hadn’t grasped its size from within, but now it rose like a great creature from the dark. The wings tapered toward the rear, and a range of what looked like portholes dotted the sides of the beast.
Mellissa felt a sort of communion with this ship. This ship had now become her home, and she feared that this might be the last time she saw it.
“The Admiralty moved here about two hundred years ago. The location was chosen because it could be easily defended. It’s a bit hard to get to.” Elara chuckled.
Sweat trickled down Mellissa’s back, the collar of the gray uniform itched, and she had to swallow the urge to hide, to run, or at least hold Duvall’s hand. She gained strength from his proximity, and her gaze roamed over the view from the back. His
starched uniform glittered with silver pips on the shoulder. Silver on dark gray. The way the uniform molded to his body made her mouth go dry, and she itched to touch him once more, but this wasn’t the place and certainly not the time.
Elara walked beside her while Grayson strode along beside his captain. Mellissa tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, but it was difficult under the circumstances.
They reached the end of the hangar and Duvall opened the door. “Come on in.” He smiled, and her insides turned cartwheels.
Then she stepped through the doorway and into another world.
* * * *
Hidden from view, another planned.
“Oh yes. The time is coming. You, McCord, will suffer as you should have before. Indeed. This time, though, I will make it painful for you. You will suffer an anguish such as you have never known.” The man watched Duvall McCord and his second-in-command leave the ship, duly noting the women accompanying him and the deference McCord paid to the one beside him in particular.
Oh, what joy to make him suffer. She looked like his weak spot, and maybe she’d be the next avenue he attempted. He rubbed his hands together gleefully. Once Duvall McCord was out of the way, then he could move on to the next target. His plan was underway.
Of course, Duvall thought his problems solved finding Jard, but far from it. It would take time for his chance to come, and he grinned at the thought. The best opportunities required time to build. He would set his plan in motion; he couldn’t guess when the opportunity would rise though. Jard had failed; he had his ways of knowing these things. He had deducted that immediately when they started unloading the bodies from the hold, one covered with the flag of the Empire, the other in an unmarked casket. A dead giveaway. He snorted at his own joke.
But patience was imperative if he hoped to be successful. Crick Sur Banden promised him a place in the new order, perhaps even his own ship, but he needed to wait for the chance. He stood and moved to the rear, helping to carry the bodies from the ship, smiling as he concealed his thoughts.
* * * *
Duvall watched Mellissa. To date she had met every challenge thrown at her with grace. He watched her back straighten there in the hanger; he had held her in the aftermath of the attempt on the Elector. He had held her in his arms and experienced the passion she shared. His emotions jumped from humbled to confused and back again.
From all accounts, this problem with the Empire loomed much bigger than anyone had expected. The records of transmissions off the ship had borne that out.
“If only we knew where the communications led,” Duvall said.
“We’ll find that out. Chowd will get to the bottom of that.” Grayson’s words were an attempt to soothe his ragged emotions.
They had to get to the bottom of it and quickly, otherwise others would be hurt, or the Empire and Admiralty compromised. Not on my watch, he vowed.
Behind him, Mellissa marched over the plascrete flooring in the hanger. He turned back once, and she frowned. She looked both frail and yet strong in the gray Admiralty ship suit he had found for her. The uniform didn’t really fit her, but that was a small thing. He’d arrange for that to be attended to here. Then she’d be far more comfortable and relaxed. A feeling rather close to possession jerked through his system, shocking him to the core.
Since when do I do possession? This woman’s a keeper and you’re not, he reminded himself. Long-term wasn’t in his plan, and now he certainly couldn’t start thinking about commitment to a woman; his commitment to the Admiralty had to come first. He struggled to remember that with her curvy body so close to his.
“Grayson, I need to find my sister’s office, and we’ll need to meet with the Admiral. I transmitted the report to him, so by the time we arrive he’ll have the basic facts. For today, I think we should stick together. At least until we sort out the lay of the land.” He looked at his second, who nodded a quick agreement.
“I agree. Both Mellissa and Elara should stay with us,” he said, his response terse and to the point. Grayson looked back at Elara and Mellissa as though quietly ordering them to follow his instruction. Elara quickly touched his arm in assent then dropped it.
He knew she had wondered about Elara and Grayson’s relationship and had asked on the ship during the time in the slipstream. His brief explanation of the system of Communing had come as a revelation. Marriage as a formalized partnership had been discarded among all but the very religious or rich. Society had accepted Communing, an alternative, with no barriers. It allowed for monogamous and committed relationships between members of the same and different genders, races, and species.
She was a strange mix for someone with a firm Catholic upbringing. He’d seen the documentaries on the old religious beliefs and was also aware she’d been raised in an orphanage. No doubt she’d experienced a very strict interpretation of their beliefs.
They’d discussed the concept of marriage and the exchange of rings over dinner one night, and he’d made the case that the removal of a ring seemed easier than the removal of the markings etched into their skin. For that reason, he explained, society now preferred the marking ceremony. It was odd, talking to someone with direct experience of times he’d learned about in history. He shook his head, trying to get it back on track. Thoughts of her disturbed his concentration.
They reached the door, a large frosted-glass-looking affair that slid open when Duvall raised his palm to the scanner. Then they entered the room beyond.
* * * *
The door slid open to a world away from the hangar.
Soft, muted colors of gray and blue met her eyes. Carpeting, lush and thick, continued as they entered into what felt like a corporate office. Several young women in matching blue uniforms looked up at their entry; some saluted, but they all came to attention at Duvall’s entry. One of the women simpered as she looked at him. Mellissa mentally dismissed the woman, all legs, blond hair, and blue eyes. Big boobs. Nothing to hold his attention, she snorted inwardly.
Duvall strode over to a large reception desk. “Duvall McCord and members of my crew. We’re here to meet with Admiral Elphin.”
“Oh, let me alert his office.” The woman smiled and simpered while touching a key on the screen before her, and Mellissa’s gut churned. “He’s free and would like you to proceed. Do you need me to guide you?” There was a determinedly hopeful gleam in the woman’s eyes. It was on the tip of Mellissa’s tongue to say no, but Duvall beat her to it.
“We’re fine.” Taking Mellissa by the hand, he led them down a long corridor toward an office.
The atmosphere within the offices felt hushed and unhurried, yet conveyed an air of determination. No decorations adorned the walls, just a number of blue doors, each with a palm screen beside them and a discreet silver nameplate. They moved toward the far door without pause. Mellissa wanted to crane her head and take in the scene, but they were hurried along.
“So apart from the fact that you need to check in with your Admiral, why are we here? Why not just leave me on board?”
Duvall stopped, and she nearly cannoned into him. “I need to report, and we need the Admiral’s help in integrating you into society, which is why you’re here. There are also a few other housekeeping matters that need to be dealt with, and I need to see my sister.”
“Okay.” She wasn’t sure if she was satisfied, but the door slid open to a secondary waiting area, this one even more intimidating than she had expected.
The heavy wood door acted as a physical barrier, and two more women waited beyond it. It was clear they held rank. They looked up as the crewmembers from the Elector entered. The first woman smiled at Duvall, and Mellissa had to restrain the tiny bite of frustration that rose within her. Once the woman looked in her direction and noted the proprietorial way Duvall ushered her forward, her smile became a grin. Mellissa took another look at the woman. She was the quintessential willowy woman, with blue-black hair. One of the ones that always got the guy because of her brains, she thought sou
rly.
The second woman looked at him warmly and remained sitting, tapping a comm, and though she was slightly older, she also flirted subtly as she tapped a button beside a flat screen. Quickly addressing the person on the other side, she explained, “McCord, Myatt, and Sudonne are here. There is another person with them.” She smiled into the comm.
“Send them in,” boomed the voice through the device.
The tall woman—Francesca, her badge told Mellissa—gestured to a retracting wall, which Mellissa hadn’t noticed previously. The door opened, and they went through the doorway to see the man behind the desk waiting. He rose as they entered, extending his hand toward Duvall.
She wondered if the man could tell she and Duvall had some kind of relationship. After all, he had brought her along with the other two to the briefing. She met the man’s intense stare once he’d greeted the others, pushing aside her roiling thoughts. Like he would really give a damn. But she felt as if he was sizing her up.
“Mellissa, this is Admiral Elphin. Mellissa Davis.”
He nodded acknowledgment at her brief, “Sir.”
The Admiral motioned that they should each take a seat, then Mellissa watched the Admiral while Duvall briefly outlined the situation. Finding the handbook within her shop, the necessity to transmit her to the Elector, and their speedy removal from the area before detection was laid out for the Admiral. Duvall explained the attack in the slipstream by Jard and the short transmission from Gentry, the Admiral’s face growing darker with each fact.
“To answer your questions, I haven’t answered your hails, as there are concerns around some intel. You sent through a report indicating possible breach in security. I noted your concerns, Duvall, but I felt complete radio silence on this matter would be best. You remembered what I had always drummed into you—right from the academy.”