The Space Colonel's Woman (Dragonus Chronicles Book 1)

by Jay Shaw

  “No, it’s not Colonel Holden.” Stephen confirmed from his position next to the corpse. “This guy’s been dead far longer than six hours.”

  Julia turned from Hayden’s hold, gaze critical of every detail, now the shock had begun to wear off. The unfortunate man was shorter and bigger around the middle; Mark’s BDUs and jacket too small. In a trance she moved closer, shaking Anora’s hand from her shoulder, sinking to her knees. She had spotted something no one else had noticed.

  The corpse was wearing Mark’s ring.

  It slid free with no resistance and Julia held it tight, pressing her fist over her heart in an attempt to summon Mark to her. She knew without looking the words engraved on the inside of the band. Two halves made whole. Julia slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand and stared at the blue sparks in the dull light, oblivious to everyone around her.

  “Julia?” Stephen tugged her sleeve to get her attention. His hand open and offered toward her, two sets of dog tags on his palm; their chains dangling between his fingers.

  “In case all that’s left is a severed limb.” Mark said, answering her innocent question with a brusque matter-of-factness born from years of military service, and tucked the second set of tags into his boot. She wished she hadn’t asked and buried her face into Mark’s pillow; his scent going a long way toward soothing her.

  These Arcadians had gone to some trouble in the creation of their deception. The laser-honed edges of the thin hologram tags pressed into Julia’s palm as she crushed her fingers around them. Grief rushed up her throat, unable to be contained a second longer, left her shivering in the aftermath of her scream.

  “Get it off!”

  She clawed at the jacket, tried to remove it from the corpse before Mark’s scent could be tainted by death. Convinced his chances of survival would diminish with every second it stayed where it was.

  “Get. It. Off!”

  Anora pulled her back, nodding to two Marines who rolled the corpse and removed the jacket with the same economy of movement used to field strip a T60. One brought it over to her and she clutched the worn leather to her chest like a toddler with a security blanket.

  “Sirs?” The squad leader of the team sent to investigate the life signs three levels down stood at attention in front of both Major Dawson and Hayden. “No luck with finding the Colonel, Sir, just four guards on a break. They fired on us but we took care of them, even brought you back a prisoner.”

  The prisoner’s massive bulk hung limp from the waist between two Marines, drooling Pepto-Bismol pink blood on the ground. Hayden strode over and lifted the lolled head by one misshapen ear then dropped him again.

  “He is still alive.” He growled, referring to Mark, not the prisoner.

  “Yes.” Anora agreed. “Or they would not go to such effort to make us believe he is not?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, he’s not here.” Stephen declared, tapping on his palmpod and missing Hayden’s lethal glare.

  “This place is obviously a holding complex before they ship them elsewhere.” Major Dawson surmised, swinging the barred door, only to stop when it emitted a protesting screech. “And why haven’t we met any resistance? We’ve searched the whole place and found only those four three levels down. With all those ships out there, where are the crews?”

  It was a question no one present could answer.

  “You three, report back to your glider with the prisoner.” Hayden ordered. “Garrett did you see any other structures when you were scanning the area? Like a barracks or a base?”

  Stephen sprang to his feet, nodding along with the speed of his thoughts. “Yes, yes, the other side of the ships. It’s too far for this to pick up anything. We need to get closer.”

  “We’d risk losing our surprise if we go that far on foot.” Major Dawson reminded Hayden.

  Hayden pivoted in a swirl of blue leather and fury. “Fall back to the gliders.”

  Julia was right behind Hayden, Mark’s ring on her finger, his dog tags in her thigh pocket, and his jacket tucked in her belt. There was still hope.

  Five minutes and she had Glider one cloaked and hovering over the barracks, while Stephen scanned for Mark’s transmitter signal.

  “Nothing.”

  Hayden thumped a fist into the hull overhead, cursing in Thuranic as he loomed between Stephen and Julia’s chairs.

  “Set down over there.” He gestured out the windshield to a stand of trees with tiger-striped trunks at the rear of the building. “Anora, with me. Wings stay here, Garrett look after her.”

  “Hayd-”

  Her protest died mid-word under the weight of Hayden’s flinty glare, remembering her assurance to obey his every order on this mission.

  “Might need a quick getaway.”

  She nodded, unhappy but obedient. “Of course.”

  Hayden tapped Anora’s shoulder and she moved down the ramp; eyes scanning for threats, her T60 caught tight in the hollow of her shoulder.

  Julia closed the ramp and sat holding Mark’s jacket as a talisman for their success. Stephen immersed himself in the world of his screen so she wouldn’t draw him into conversation. He needn’t have bothered. Conversation was the last thing she wanted, or needed. She was busy trying to channel Mark to let him know they were looking for him, to stay safe, and to stay alive.

  It was a silent glide back to Phoenix.

  Hayden and Anora had returned unchallenged and empty-handed. All they had to show for their wasted efforts were Mark’s tags, jacket, and wedding ring. And the unconscious prisoner, who may, or more likely not, have useful Intel. Julia was glad she wasn’t him. No one would want to be in an empty room facing Hayden when he had carte blanche to extract the information he wanted.

  “I’ll expand the range of the glider’s sensors. It might help.” Stephen thought aloud into the silence suffocating them all. “At least it did when we were tracking Hayden two years ago.”

  Normally, she would’ve asked to hear a story like that. But not this time.

  Hayden escorted the prisoner to isolation to begin the interrogation. There was a certain amount of gleeful anticipation in the lines of his six-five frame. Julia hoped he wouldn’t get carried away and damage the prisoner beyond repair. At least, not before he got Mark’s location from him.

  Their quarters were cold and quiet. And empty of the one person she longed to see. She slumped onto their bed, her feet hanging over the end, and sighed; thumb twisting Mark’s ring around her finger.

  “Julia?”

  “Y-yes.” She answered, groggy with sleep and rubbing her face as she sat up.

  “Be in the conference room in five.”

  “Right, thanks Anora.” She was on the move before she’d finished signing off.

  Chapter 25

  During the early days and weeks after Mark’s abduction, their frequent missions followed the same procedure as the first. Large numbers of Marine squads and gliders would respond to Intel gathered by reliable, then not-so-reliable sources as their desperation grew. Julia was with Hayden, Anora, and Stephen every step of the way. Through every disappointment and every fresh surge of hope new Intel brought with it. But it was hard to know what to do next.

  Mr Clayton began authorizing fewer gliders with each new scrap of news the off-world teams managed to scrounge. Until finally there was just the four of them and Major Dawson’s team who were permitted to keep searching.

  It was difficult for Julia not to get discouraged. It was harder still to watch people give up on the man she loved. The same man who had put his life on the line countless times for them, without a thought for his own safety.

  When Mark had been MIA for eight months, Mr Clayton called her into his office.

  “Julia.” He greeted with an outward show of sympathy toward the diminished muscle tone of her once athletic physique, and the bruised smudges beneath her wide eyes.

  Julia sensed his pity the moment she crossed the threshold. It wasn’t his busine
ss how she chose to mourn. Only she wasn’t mourning, because Mark wasn’t dead. No matter how many people tried to convince her otherwise.

  “Mr Clayton.”

  “I’ve decided to cancel any further searches for Colonel Holden.”

  Well fuck. Credit where credit was due. Mr Thomas Clayton of the DOC knew how to deliver a knockout blow. Julia swayed on the spot and he grasped her elbow and led her to a chair. She fell into it, unware she’d moved until she had to look up to glare at him.

  “I’m informing Earth this afternoon during our scheduled information update. The official word will be that Colonel Holden was killed in action.”

  “Right.” Julia said, voice dead and body heavy as lead. “Of course, it wouldn’t do to keep on dedicating resources and man power to find and rescue the one man who would’ve done all that and more for anyone one of you selfish fucking bastards!”

  The death of the man who’d been Phoenix’s military commander for over eight years, and the love of her life, was being squeezed in between weekly reports and requests for coffee and paperclips.

  “Now, Julia, I must ask you to refrain from such langu-”

  “And fuck you most of all.”

  She stood up, pressing her thigh into the side of the chair as blood rushed south; leaving Mr Clayton and his office off-kilter and out of focus for a moment. Then, she walked out without a backward glance.

  Julia gripped the handrail so tight her knuckles turned white; fist sliding with each wobbly step down the back stairs. What now? Where would she go from here? She couldn’t stay in Phoenix City. It had gone from being the place she knew she belonged, to being a prison of silver and ice. Her happy memories tainted by the agony and desolation of a loss that would forever drag at her soul. She had to get away. But the big question was how.

  Hayden. She was beyond thinking and Julia knew he would know what to do; or at least where to start. Julia wandered in a daze down the corridor to the gym.

  “Hayden.”

  She clutched at the doorframe for support. He turned. The clatter of his dropped sword echoed loud in the cavernous space as he rushed to her side. His hands hovered, unsure where best to touch her lest she break. He was right to hesitate. She felt as if a single touch would shatter her into a million pieces. She knew her grief had marked itself into her face; knew if she were to look into a mirror, the glass would reflect someone she no longer recognized.

  “Tell me.” He ordered, his shoulders rigid; braced for impact.

  “Clayton has given up on Ma…ark.” Her voice broke on his name, the rent in her heart tearing a little more.

  “What.”

  All Hayden’s anger was compressed into the single solitary word.

  “He’s informing Earth on this afternoon’s information update, that USAF Colonel Mark Holden was killed in action; particulars stamped Top Secret and Above.”

  There would be no more searching.

  “Hayden, can you help me talk to Stephen?” Julia pleaded. “I can’t stay here anymore.”

  “Where will you go?” He asked, confusion and defeat filling the depths of his warm brown gaze.

  “Home.”

  Blackness ambushed her from her peripheries. Hayden’s strong arms catching her as she lost her grip on consciousness and slumped toward the floor.

  She came to in the infirmary with Valentina standing over her. Two warm fingers timing the pulse her left wrist.

  “You’re okay.” She gave Julia’s wrist a reassuring squeeze before slipping it back between the tightly tucked sheets. “You fainted and Hayden carried you here.”

  Julia made to sit up but Valentina pushed her back into the plump pillow with a firm hand to her shoulder.

  “Just take a minute.”

  She sighed; having no energy left to fight she submitted to her doctor’s wishes, lay her head on her pillow, and closed her eyes. When Valentina was certain her patient wasn’t going to try anything else, she left the room only to be bombarded by male voices when she reached triage.

  “How is she?”

  “I don’t fully understand the genetic connection her and Colonel Holden shared, but she’s over-wrought, exhausted, grieving. And because of all that, she’s not eating. I’m surprised she didn’t faint sooner.”

  “When they’re together their X2 makes a complete sequence and allows them to share and download data about anything Zydonian and each other.” She overheard Stephen explaining and could picture the hand gestures that went along the dialogue. “We’ve had some success in the gene research, but we can’t prove why it has this severe an effect on the Colonel and Julia. At least not yet.”

  “Can we see her?” Hayden interrupted before Stephen really got going.

  It seemed Hayden had been to see his team mate while she was in here. Julia thanked him from the bottom of what was left of her heart.

  “For a few minutes only. She needs rest.”

  Julia rolled her head on the pillow when she heard them enter the room, and for a moment they didn’t know where to look. Her appearance must truly be terrifying. They stood before her; Mark’s lieutenants, each one different from the other in every way. Yet, but both were competent, and loyal, and strong.

  “I can do it.” Stephen said, flustered in his eagerness to reassure her. “I kept the coordinates. Just in case…”

  Hayden thumped him on the arm.

  “Was that really necessary?” He rubbed his knuckles over the impact zone, ignoring Hayden’s thunderous glare. “You should be grateful I’m…the way I am, or there’d be no set of coordinates to flee to.”

  “I don’t want to go, I have to.” Julia explained, agitation surging up inside her unable to be quelled. “If they aren’t going to search anymore, I’ll have nothing to do and I can’t stay here without…him.”

  Hayden had become blurry but she still saw him nod, his silken hair rippling with iridescent highlights from the overhead alien lighting. His muscled arms crossed over his broad chest, while true to form Stephen avoided eye contact.

  “Right. You two, out now.” Valentina ordered, gesturing to the door with the covered tray she was carrying.

  Julia’s stomach heaved at the thought of food and she grimaced at her doctor and friend.

  “You’re going to eat whether you want to or not. How else will you have strength to do what’s needed, when it’s needed? And you’re staying here, where I can keep an eye on you. Doctor’s orders.”

  Julia grumbled under her breath about pixies abusing their power, and forked a cube of stewed meat into her mouth. It didn’t taste too bad.

  ~*~

  She was spoiling for a fight. The last thing she’d wanted to do was think, but four days of enforced bed rest, regular meals, and sleep had made her do just that. As much as she hated to admit it, if only to herself, the break had done her good and she felt as if she could cope with anything - even Mr Thomas Clayton. Julia headed for her quarters to change before going to see him. But when the doors slid open she just stood there. Frozen in shock.

  Mark’s possessions were packed in metal footlockers with D-rings on each end, and stacked up ready for transport to who knew where. Her things, however, lay exactly where she had left them five days ago.

  She forced herself to stand where she was, to not race off and strangle a certain pompous weasel, while her anger was at its volcanic peak and cresting over her in waves. It was twenty minutes before a freshly-showered and clothed Julia strode into the Commander in Chief’s office.

  “Listen to me, I want to know what the hell is going on here, and I want to know right now!”

  Mr Clayton had risen from his chair when she entered but she swatted away his courtesy.

  “Why are all of Colonel Holden’s things packed in metal chests?”

  “They need to be taken back to Earth to his family.” He said in a quiet but firm tone.

  “Is it possible that even you, Mr Clayton, can be that obtuse?” She was three seconds from giving into the overwhe
lming desire to beat the fucking crap out of the man before her. “I’m Colonel Holden’s family. His wife.”

  “Oh dear, my apologies, Julia. I was focused on making room for Colonel Holden’s replacement, I didn’t think.”

  She gripped the edge of the desk, her nails scratching grooves into its transparent surface.

  “Please, do sit down.” He gestured to the same chair she’d sat in eons ago; when he’d cut out what was left of her heart.

  Julia was unwilling to accept his offer, she hated to show weakness, but she did feel lightheaded. He sat down in the adjacent chair, prepared to wait her out as a chasm of silence yawned between them.

  “Mr Clayton, I wish to return to my home. Can you authorize for Doctor Garrett and Hayden to use a glider and take me? It is no longer possible for me to stay in Phoenix City.”

  He looked at her with sympathetic eyes and nodded once. “Yes, of course. When did you wish to leave?”

  She wanted to leave right that second, but it wasn’t practical. Mark’s things might be packed but hers were not. “Is it all right if I stay until the end of the week? Or do you need the rooms before then?”

  It was hard not to let her resentment show. After everything that Mark had done and been through for Phoenix and its inhabitants, he was still just a soldier; expendable, and replaceable.

  “The end of the week will be fine.” Mr Clayton agreed, his condescension making her blood boil.

  “Thank you.” Julia said through gritted teeth and stood; striding out of the office before she could do Phoenix’s Commander in Chief irreparable harm.

  When she returned to her quarters it was to find Hayden standing in the middle, still as a statue, and surrounded by the stacks of chests. Unspoken anger, pain, and frustration, all evident in the hunch of his shoulders.

  “Hayden?” She whispered, a little frightened to draw his attention to her.

  He spun around, his hand on his blaster. It shocked her that she’d managed to approach him without him having heard her. That fact alone expressed more than words ever could, about how out of sorts Hayden was. It was somehow easier to cope with someone else’s pain, than deal with her own. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing tight before stepping back and looking up into his chiseled features. His eyes were glassy, with a faraway look in them.