His By Command (Primarian Mates Book 2)

by Maddie Taylor

  His By Command

  Primarian Mates - Book Two

  Maddie Taylor

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Other Titles By Maddie Taylor

  Marshal’s Law

  Captain My Captain

  Published by Breathless Romance

  Published by Stormy Night Publications

  Other Independent Publishers

  About the Author

  A note from Maddie Taylor…

  Sign up for Maddie’s newsletter:

  Copyright © 2016 by Maddie Taylor

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places, or events must be considered purely coincidental.

  This book contains content for adult audiences and is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.

  For mature readers, only

  Published in the United States of America

  First Electronic Edition: December 2016

  1

  “Team leader to Odyssey…”

  More words followed this urgent initial communication, except they were garbled and broken, but in the background the bone-chilling sounds of terrified screams and photon blasters discharging were unmistakable. The next instant, there was another panic-stricken message with only three words decipherable: “Attack… huge… aliens!”

  After that, the transmission went dead.

  Fear knotted in the pit of Maggie’s stomach as she, and every woman on the bridge, held her breath while listening to the deafening silence. While she waited for the span of an excruciatingly long minute, she prayed for another word, or the slightest noise to indicate all was well. As the seconds dragged by, nothing more came.

  Spinning her command chair around, she surged to her feet and ran up the few steps leading to the upper deck and the communications console. “Get them back, dammit,” she demanded, although she knew that if she could, the highly skilled officer manning the controls would have by now.

  “I’m trying, ma’am,” Britta replied, her hands flying desperately over the touch screens and keypads. Entering numbers and tweaking slide bars, she tried and retried every channel and frequency to get a signal. All that came through the ultra-sensitive, digitally enhanced speakers was white noise.

  Whirling to face the enormous viewing screen at the front of the bridge, she snapped her next order, “Bring up video.”

  A distorted aerial image of the landing team’s pre-selected research area appeared on screen. Maggie squinted while the picture blurred and digitalized as the autofocus engaged.

  “Enhance!” barked the unnerved captain.

  “I’m at 100k Opti-res enhancement now,” Teagan, her senior navigator replied. “That’s the best image I’ve got.”

  A burst of light flashed in the lower right corner of the screen; the indistinct image flickered several times, and then, like the audio transmission, ended abruptly. The display reverted to a blue screen, blank except for the cursor slowly blinking in the corner as the computer searched for a signal. A few seconds passed before a wide view of the small planet they were orbiting appeared.

  Maggie’s troubled gaze sliced to Teagan. “Was that an explosion?”

  “It’s possible, ma’am,” the young lieutenant answered, her voice hushed in the stillness of the room as everyone sat frozen in stunned disbelief by the sudden turn of events. “Or it could have been artifact from the solar flares.”

  “Can you restore the feed?”

  She shook her head. “The computer, unable to read the incoming signal, automatically defaults to the best discernible image. I’ve set it to continuous search mode, but for now, this is all we have. I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  Nala, her chief weapons officer, cut in. “Without visual confirmation of the threat, or verbal verification of coordinates, we’d be shooting blind. We’re unable to help them until contact is restored.”

  “So they’re on their own,” Maggie whispered, her eyes fixed on the innocuous blue-green orb in the middle of the black, star-dotted screen. What had been a beacon of hope only hours before had become a harbinger of despair and a veritable death trap. At least that was how it seemed from their vantage point, without knowing what was truly going on two hundred and fifty miles below them on the planet’s surface.

  “God help them,” one of her crew uttered, others quietly adding their own prayers.

  Seated in the captain’s chair in the center of the room, Magda—Maggie to most, and Mags to her very dear friends, which numbered few—had a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the multi-level bridge. The activity went on around her, largely unnoticed, as she gazed fixedly at the harmless-looking planet. It held the answers to what had become of a dozen of her crew if they could only get monitoring systems back online, or safely launch reconnaissance drones, or do something, anything, besides sit on their asses, watching, and waiting.

  After the last broken audio transmission, nearly four hours had passed. During that time, the Odyssey had no further contact with its research team. The ship had been on high alert ever since, prepared for unexpected aggression from the unknown enemy below, at the same time constantly scanning for signs of the missing women and trying to reestablish communication. As the minutes ticked by and there was still no word, the crew became more and more on edge.

  Hopeful that the near-constant solar flares, which they suspected were causing the distortions, would die down at sunset, they were further frustrated when only one of the twin suns slipped out of sight and dipped behind the planet. The larger of the two, apparently having a much wider orbital path, was still in plain view, playing havoc with their equipment. This meant video was still patchy at best and audio was non-existent.

  Icy shivers of fear ran down the harried captain’s spine every time she thought of the haunting distress call. Memories of the desperate cry for help accompanied mental pictures of a host of horrific scenarios that might now be taking place. It played in an awful, continuous loop in her head. Although the well-trained crew were armed with the most advanced Earth weapons available, their attackers were an unknown entity. Except for being “huge,” Maggie had no idea what threats they were facing.

  For the hundredth time, she regretted not sending drones in first, but the preliminary scans had revealed no threats, only positive indicators. The atmosphere was conducive to supporting human life, the temperatures were in the tropical-range, and there was evidence of abundant water supplies and dense vegetation, which gave them hope that at long last they could have found what they were searching for. Swept up in the excitement, she’d become as over-anxious as the crew and ordered a science team to land and collect samples. As captain, that premature decision and the fate of her missing team rested on her.

  The rational part of her brain reminded her that ev
ery crew member on the Odyssey knew the score when they signed onto the mission three years ago. Risk in space exploration was inherent; anything that could go wrong often did. But that didn’t ease the internal turmoil that left her struggling with regret, what-ifs, and second guesses, and the overwhelming guilt that she might have been responsible for the untimely deaths of twelve women. As she made every effort to keep her emotions contained and hidden from her crew, she wrapped herself in the icy cloak of concentration she was known for.

  That level of focus led people to call her aloof, or distant. And since she was a stickler for schedules, goals, and the mission—always the mission—her crew often called her a hard-ass, though usually in whispers, not to her face.

  At twenty-eight, Maggie was the youngest captain, male or female, to command a ship in the history of the United States Interstellar Forces, and she hadn’t accomplished that while coasting along, or by not demanding the most of herself and those around her. True, the Odyssey was one of the few exploration vessels in the fleet, while the others were warships. Being selected to head the mission was still an honor and came with grave responsibility. She didn’t have the luxury of downtime or worry-free sleep. There were three hundred lives on board and she didn’t intend to lose a single one under her command. She spent almost every spare moment plotting, planning, checking, and rechecking, and getting input from her officers. In spite of it all, the decisions, with their successes as well as their failures, fell to her. And the weight of that burden was heavy upon her shoulders right now.

  It didn’t end with the Odyssey, either. Millions of people back on Earth were depending on them for a positive outcome. Overpopulation and misuse of the world’s resources had made the long-held warnings about climate change and its ramifications come true, leaving mankind on the brink of disaster.

  At the time of their departure, weather disasters were already frequent and more devastating than ever before: tsunamis, floods, mud slides, and Category 6 hurricanes. Yes, it had gotten so bad that an entire new level of destruction had to be added. On top of that, the social order was in chaos, and leaders worldwide couldn’t agree on how to find new sources of energy, shore up dwindling food supplies, and protect the quickly diminishing sources of fresh water.

  Some countries were becoming more withdrawn from the global community, worried solely about protecting their own. To many, including Maggie, this was a reactionary and inappropriate response to the crisis. Fortunately, several of the advanced nations had banded together to look at solutions: this included looking beyond the Earth, and seeking a viable new planet to replace their own dying world.

  That wasn’t without conflict either. Who, where, and how was always a matter of contention. The only thing everyone could agree on was that it needed to happen quickly, which in terms of space travel was an ambiguous term.

  Now, nearly three years since the Odyssey left Earth, they were no closer to fulfilling their mission than on day one. In addition, they were running out of time. Deep space exploration wasn’t an endless assignment. It took its toll on vital resources, including food stores and fuel cells for their ship and their weapons, not to mention the most vital of all resources, the people. For that reason alone, the mission was time-limited.

  Knowing they would soon be called home and with nothing to show for it except a few very unsatisfactory planets and asteroids as options, they’d come across SperoMP13, the most promising prospect to date.

  Maggie had jumped the gun, plain and simple, erring on the side of haste and enthusiasm, rather than caution, which wasn’t like her. And she was beating herself up for it.

  Yes, the use of drones would have been the safest option, but it would also have taken much longer.

  “Twelve lives for the sake of saving time,” Maggie whispered. Then and there, she vowed not to make that mistake a second time, to put neither her crew nor their mission at risk by being so impetuous again—ever.

  “Captain, I’m picking up thermal readings near the targeted landing site.”

  Teagan’s report snapped her instantly out of her musings.

  “Our people?” she asked.

  “No, these readings are thirty times higher, as if from a launch, and I’m getting some video.”

  As she reported this, there was an audible intake of breath from the dozens of women on the bridge, and all heads swung to the viewing screen.

  “There is also a heat trail, ma’am.” After a moment, Teagan twisted halfway in her chair to look directly at Maggie, and added with a grin, “It appears to be the shuttle.”

  Cheers erupted at the news, but Maggie wouldn’t celebrate until she counted heads and ensured every one of her charges was okay.

  “Britta, see if you can contact them? Determine how many are on board and find out if we need a medical team on standby.”

  “Odyssey to Shuttle 1, come in.” Pausing, she waited for a response, then flipped through several more channels, repeating her message exhaustively before shaking her head. “There is still interference.”

  “Damn,” Maggie muttered softly. “I’m going to the landing bay. Have a medical team and a security detail meet me there.”

  Minutes later, she stood at the interior doors peering through three panes of high-intensity, silica-fused protective glass. Her eyes were fixed on the small craft as it approached the open bay. There were no visible signs of damage, and the small craft seemed to be functioning properly as it made a slight course correction and slowed for landing. Although her relief at seeing the intact vehicle was immense, she worried about the state of the crew after still having no contact with them.

  “Ma’am.” A voice at her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see Janie, the security sergeant who was in charge in the chief’s absence.

  “We’ve had no communication with them.”

  Maggie waited for her to continue. “Yes?” she finally prompted.

  “Well, we don’t know what actually happened down there.”

  “This is true and why we have medics on standby.”

  “I don’t mean that.”

  “What do you mean, Janie?” she urged, with an edge of impatience. “Spit it out.”

  “What if our people aren’t inside? Or, perhaps the attackers have them under their control to board us and take over the ship.”

  It was a valid threat, one she should have considered herself. She glanced down the hall behind the sergeant to see a dozen fully armed guards at the ready.

  Maggie didn’t hesitate, and with a nod gave her the okay to proceed. They rushed forward, flanking each side of the doors, ready to go in first. She shifted back in time to see the shuttle advancing to the designated landing zone as the retractable legs extended and locked in place. As it set down, it rocked suddenly, landing more roughly than expected, with a loud thud that reverberated through the doors and into the hallway. The ship lurched sharply as a result, causing the woman beside her to stumble sideways, grabbing onto her arm to keep from falling.

  “Sorry, Captain,” she murmured, but Maggie barely noticed, as the outer hull doors slid shut. Her concern was focused on who or what was inside the shuttle, and now on board her ship. Eryn was a very competent pilot and would have been the one at the controls. The rocky touchdown wasn’t her usual style, which meant something was terribly wrong. Either the shuttle had sustained damage, or worse, the crew inside had.

  Shooting a troubled glance Janie’s way, they shared a tense few moments as they waited for the bay to pressurize. She wanted to charge in, but had to hold the standard thirty seconds for the all-clear or risk being sucked out into space along with everything and everyone else in the vicinity. Each tick of the clock seemed like an eternity.

  At last, the green light flashed and with a hiss, the doors slid open. Despite the dozen armed guards on either side of her, Maggie was the first to rush in, though she let them surround the shuttle exit ramp, ready for any surprises. It took several more long, excruciating minutes before the sh
uttle doors released and the ramp lowered. When it did, the sound of weapons snapping into place was deafening. The cold, harsh noise was replaced by sighs of relief as Rebecca appeared in the opening, appearing uninjured despite her ripped and dirt-covered flight suit.

  “Thank God, you’re safe,” Maggie cried as she moved to the foot of the ramp. Her concern mounted as she watched her first officer limp forward. “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s nothing,” Rebecca replied, waving off her alarm. “I tweaked an ankle while running.”

  “What the hell happened down there?”

  “Aliens, dozens of them by our guess, attacked while we were at the lake. They were huge, Mags,” she uttered, the residual fear written clearly on her pale face. This made Maggie appreciate the gravity of the situation below. She’d seen her steel-nerved friend remain unflappable in countless battles, and life or death situations. This, whatever it was, had her rattled.

  Rebecca turned back and motioned to someone inside. Two other crew members moved forward, carrying a third who was injured, her face contorted in pain.

  “Medic!” Maggie called, gesturing to the medical technicians who were on standby in the corridor. They pushed forward with their equipment, two weaving a stretcher through the others surrounding the exit doors.

  A cry of pain halted any conversation as the young guard, who was writhing in agony, was lifted onto the gurney. It was then that Maggie saw the makeshift splint immobilizing her lower leg and the hastily tied dressing that was saturated with blood. As the med-techs cut it away to see what they were dealing with, Maggie caught a glimpse of a deep gash and a jagged, protruding bone.

  “My God, Tessa!”

  Hissing in pain, the wounded young woman’s face leached of color as the medical team elevated her leg and secured her for transport to sickbay. While they worked on her, she raised anguish-filled eyes to her captain.

  “The creatures, they were unbelievably strong and there were so many of them. We ran, but they were too quick.” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head and swallowed. “When we tried to defend ourselves, we found we were outgunned too.” She managed to gasp the last bit between groans, her voice reedy thin from the pain and undoubtedly the blood loss.