by A. B. Keuser
He barely registered when Stacy started talking again, but he caught the back end.
“...said something about old dogs and new tricks I’m forgetting now. To be honest, it sounded like she was repeating something Gunk would have said.”
“She probably was.”
“Admiral Buchanan told me I’m acting station commander. Effective immediately. So, you know, get out of my chair.”
With a raised brow, Cable stood and motioned for her to take the seat. When they’d switched places, he looked up to find her staring at the only picture on his desk.
“She’s going to be a handful when you go….”
Cable snatched the photo cube from her without looking at it. “It won’t be an issue. She’s coming with me.”
Stacy stared at him, brows pinched.
“On the Dendratic? Is she ill?”
“It’s worse than a case of spindle lung glue. Buchanan’s drafted her. She’s a part of my team now, whether either of us want her to be or not.”
“Does Buck know who she is? What she means to you?” Kate looked like she’d fall out of her chair if the desk wasn’t there to stop her.
“I told her she was Aaron’s sister… as for what she means to me, not even you know that. I’d take you along instead, but you’ve got a station to tear apart.”
“Assuming Maeltar doesn’t come back and do it for me.”
“The ships shouldn't come back once I’m off station.” He quickly explained what little he knew.
“He has to have pretty low self-esteem to go by ‘Crap.’”
Cable tried to keep his face emotionless. He had to be wrong. KaRapp was a joke, and not just because of his name. It was a cruel trick from the universe. Or it was something far more deadly.
“I need to go break the news to Kenzie… she’ll probably deck me.”
“It won’t do much damage, you like them soft and pretty… the savable type.”
Cable could think of twenty different ways that description didn’t apply to Kenzie. “You say that like I’ve got a type.”
“Is Mack the only woman you’ve wanted who fits that profile?”
He paused and decided that if there was anyone on this rig worth being honest with, it was Stacy. “Kenzie’s the only one I’ve ever truly wanted at all.”
The air hung static between them as her smile faded to a deathly scowl. “Then what the hell is holding you back?”
That was an honest answer he couldn’t give anyone. “I’ll be around first shift tomorrow morning to help finish the repair walk through.”
She nodded her dismissal and eh left, pocketing the cube
He turned to the locator board as the door shut behind him.
Kenzie’s ID bracelet was the most useless thing on the station. He glanced at the flickering board--a year overdue for a replacement that would never come--and shook his head as he tapped her name and watched the blinking dot ping in her pod.
If she was in her bunk, he was queen of Mars.
He should physically check, but he didn’t want to wind his way through the hive of housing pods to confirm what he already knew. Tapping through a string of commands, he executed an override and switched to thermal scanners.
Empty.
Just as expected.
He turned his attention to a single blob of heat signatures.
She’d be at Gunk’s unless she’d gone back for the air processor. He wouldn’t be able to find her on the scanners down there. Sensors were cut as each level was decommissioned. Something he knew she’d taken advantage of before.
The rhythmic sound of his soles on the hard decking echoed around him as he headed for the lift. Drafting her was an error. Kenzie wasn’t stupid. But she was too confident for her own good. And he spent too much time catching her when she decided to determine if she could fly by jumping off a cliff.
Thoughts of blue hair, floating in the vacuum disappeared as soon as a bright peal of laughter danced across his ears.
He hadn’t heard that sound in months.
Kenzie leaned over the bar, tapping her empty glass on the alumasteel counter as she laughed at something the retired admiral said. By the smile on his face, Cable was certain Gunk had told one of her “stupid seven.”
Seven jokes that only made sense when you were too far gone to notice they weren't funny at all.
Gunk noticed him first and held up a glass, head inclined, a wry smile on her lips.
“None for me this time. I came by to get Kenzie back to her pod and into bed. She’s got an early morning tomorrow.
Kenzie turned to him with a wide, lopsided smile. Another seemingly lost piece of his memories of her.
“I knew it!” She pointed at him and sagged back on her stool. “You want in my pants.”
Cable didn’t argue. He’d seen both her and Aaron drunk enough times to know it wouldn’t get him anywhere. There was no amount of alcohol in the galaxy that could remove the Flacks’ ability to talk circles around him.
He helped her to her feet and she leaned into him, bursting into a fit of giggles as she wrapped her arms around him.
There were too many people looking at them for him to fully enjoy the feel of her embrace.
“Gunk is good people. And I’m going to miss her!” Kenzie yelled, leaning away from him and forcing him to catch her before she keeled over. “You hear that, you old softie? I’m gonna miss you!”
“I’ll miss you too, Mack.” Gunk leaned across the bar. “You get her home safe.”
Cable led her out of the bar, her feet dragging with each step--elongated as though they were dancing. With one arm firmly around his waist, she dragged him sideways and back with every third step.
“You’re going to make us fall over.” He said slowly, knowing she wouldn’t care.
“You could carry me? I mean, if I’m holding you up from your duties.” She threw a sloppy salute.
Instead of pointing out that he was literally holding her up, he gave in and scooped her off the decking.
“What did she let you drink?” he asked as her head lolled onto his shoulder.
“Anything I wanted. Last night and all that jazz.” She threw her arm out and almost pulled him off balance.
Much more of this and he’d have to mentally reclassify her as an enemy combatant.
“What’s your pass code?” The sooner he got her in bed and on her way to sobriety, the better.
“I don’t want to go back to my pod. I want… I want….” Her eyes crossed, refocused, and she blinked twice. “I want the key to Kardek.”
She smiled too widely, and passed out in his arms.
Without giving him her code.
He could get into her pod without it. But he couldn’t leave her to face the hangover that waited her alone. There were three stages of a Flack bender. And if they passed out… they needed supervision.
Adjusting her now dead weight, he ignored the two leers and raised eyebrows as he stepped into the officer’s lift.
Seven
The skin on her forehead was clammy, her eyes too dry even though she hadn’t opened them yet, and something tight around her waist told her last night’s personal party had ended terribly….
The first crack of her eyelids, shot pain through her synapses. She moaned and rolled over ignoring the latent nausea waiting at the back of her symptom queue.
She deserved everything that was coming to her.
“I shouldn’t have had that last beer.” Aaron would have laughed at her.
Forgetting her current state, she shook her head and a curl slapped her in the face a moment before the splitting, spinning pain did.
If she hadn’t been here before, she might have thought she’d fractured a cheekbone. Hangovers, the few she’d had, always came with the phantom feel of broken bones.
Standing was going to be an issue… walking even worse.
Maybe she’d die on the way to her knew “home.” That would clear up a few of her problems.
&nbs
p; Goddess, she did not want to leave yet.
The groan that came involuntarily, echoed too loud in her ears and she grabbed her pillow, wrapping it around her head as she rolled over.
She kept rolling.
Instead of the cool metallic relief of the bulkhead beside her pod’s bunk… she found more mattress.
The pillow was wrong too: springy memory foam instead of the heavy down Aaron had snuck in for her—that one had cost a fortune, this one… her fingers slipped under the covers and felt the satiny surface. This one was military issue.
Peering out through slitted eyes, she looked at the cabin. A bleary mess of gray and white. But that was just her eyes. And this was not her pod.
She swore under her breath and tried to dissolve into the mattress.
The light gray walls lit by harsh vees that didn’t flicker and wane with the oscillating power fluctuations. She didn’t fail to notice the bedroom--and it was only a bedroom--was the same size as the entire pod she called home.
The crew quarters didn’t have her assigned pod’s shared ventilation--she should have known something was up when she didn’t smell her neighbor’s unerringly predictable breakfast of blood sausages and jalapenos.
It was the only bright spot at the moment. An olfactory assault would have had her tossing her proverbial cookies well before the slag hauler taking her out of system had a chance to shake her stomach out through her throat.
The quarters were too clean.
Officer’s bunking.
She’d waited around for Aaron too many times to not know where the fleet put up their best and brightest.
The hatch separating the bedroom and living area looked harmless enough. It was the possibilities stretched across the jamb that worried her.
She pulled back the covers and thanked Goddess she was still fully clothed.
Secure clothing meant she probably hadn’t had blackout sex.
Probably.
“Time to face the code crawl.”
Running her fingers through the braid she’d tied the night before, she stepped into her boots--neatly arranged and waiting to be slid into.
Suspicious.
She didn’t bother lacing them.
Stumbling to the door, she stared at the gray painted metal. Gunk wouldn’t have let her go home with a creep. She was certain of that…. Right?
But someone could have waylaid her on her stumble back to her pod.
Grimacing, she bit back the bile that threatened at that thought and pressed the lock release.
It slid open too quickly and the brighter lights of the main room stabbed jagged shards through her retinas. One foot over the tread and her stomach began to roil.
Cable sat at a table bolted to the floor by the small kitchen unit. His amused smirk poised over the cup of coffee at his lips wasn’t annoying enough to ruin her sudden rush of relief.
“How does half-dead feel?” Cable asked before taking a long drink from the mug.
“Probably as good as it looks.”
He pointed to the tall glass of water and a shot of something deep blue across the table from him. “I got you a present.”
“I would kiss you if I didn’t know how I taste.” She tipped back the hangover suppressant before gulping down the whole glass of water in an attempt to push it through her system faster.
The super-hydrating liquid would bond with her cells. As soon as that happened, she’d lose her headache and be able to do higher functioning math again.
Cable had just bought her a fifty credit shot.
“Thanks.” She tipped back a second glass of water as soon as he slid it to her.
‘Did you manage to run Gunk out of alcohol?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she’s got enough left for your inevitable good-bye do. Speaking of getting off. What rust bucket are you tossing me onto?”
She grabbed the tablet in front of him and he didn’t even try to snatch it back.
Interesting.
He even had confidential military briefs still on the screen. “I sleep in your bed and you give me unfettered access to fleet data? Who knew you could be bought by a pretty face?”
“You won’t get me court martialed. If I lose faith in everything else in this galaxy, I’ll be able to hold on to that.” He reached forward and tapped on a minimized window.
“I need you to sign some paperwork. Read it first.”
She skimmed.
Basic military indemnification, pod lease forfeiture, confidentiality agreement--another one.
Cable glared at the table between them. He wasn’t telling her something. But he would, and until he was done chewing on it… she could wait.
She considered asking about what Bezzon had said the night before. Then again… he had to know exactly how Bezzon felt about Aaron. And the lieutenant’s reasons weren’t something she wanted to hear.
Least of all from Cable.
Cable took his tablet back and flipped through the screens.
He spared her a warning glance when she stole his coffee. Mack saw no point in playing by the rules when a crime would never be punished.
Shaking his head, he pressed his thumb to the screen, signing off as her witness. “Next time you plan to go on a binge, make sure there’s someone there to get you home. I would have, but I didn’t have your pod codes.”
He didn’t need her codes. He had overrides that could get him anywhere on station. Not that she was complaining. His bed was a lot softer than hers.
She glanced over her shoulder at the doorway and then back to him. “I didn’t do anything… did I?”
He hesitated and she glared at him until one corner of his mouth quirked up. “You tried to serenade me and failed horribly. And then there’s the fact you snore.”
She flicked him. “I do not.”
Bitter, the coffee Cable took with no sugar and a dash of beet powder coated her mouth. She pretended not to notice that his eyes were locked on her as hers wandered the cabin.
She was fairly certain he was lying, and not just about the snoring. When she was drunk, she was… frisky. And when she was frisky around Cable—something that had happened only twice before—she tended to say things libel to get her in trouble, instead of in his pants.
Her meandering appraisal stopped on the sofa. Tucked up against one bulkhead, a pair of blankets and a pillow were stacked neatly on the furthest cushion.
She blinked at the pile for a moment, trying to place exactly why the sight of it stabbed at the back of her brain.
“Ah,” she said to herself as she took another long sip of the coffee.
The blue shot had done its job, otherwise the bitter brew would have sent her stumbling toward the lav.
“Was sleeping with me really so unpalatable an idea you scrunched yourself up on that couch?” She set the cup down and pushed it back to where she’d taken it from. “I’m not going to ruin your reputation, am I?”
He took the cup back and shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve slept in worse places.”
“I know.” She didn’t care that she’d interrupted him before he could answer her second question.
Aaron had tortured her with pictures of those places.
Fifteen came to mind unbidden, scrolling in her thoughts as though on a carousel. Those were the images that haunted her dreams: places no one should have survived.
“That’s why you should have shared the bed.” She glared at him. “Next time, if you feel prudish, drop me on the couch. I deserve every ache and pain coming to me.”
He arched a brow gaze darting to the empty shot glass.
“Alright.” He pulled his cup away when she reached for it and brought it to his lips. Not fast enough to hide the faint hint of a smile.
One she didn’t know when—or even if—she’d see again.
“What time do I ship out?” She’d looked through the departure schedules while sitting at Gunk’s.
Sifting through her memory, she glanced at the clock. There were
four options.
“I got you a bunk on the Nostrneon.”
“A commercial liner? And here I thought you’d leave me to jiggle my brains out among the carg--oh!” She looked at the clock again. “She left an hour ago. You let me sleep too long.”
He set the empty coffee cup down and left her at the table.
The long viewport on the far side of his quarters looked out at the bright green land mass of the moon the station had orbited for the last eighty-two years.
“I’d never put you on a slag hauler.”
Glaring at him, she sifted through the other options and decided teasing him was the quickest way to get rid of his scowl and get her info in one fell swoop.
“And I can’t afford a yacht… how much do you think they pay me?” He turned to her with a curious grimace, brows trying to bend in on themselves, or so it seemed.
“I dunno, Aaron seemed to be raking in the dough.”
Cable’s posture went rigid, his face paled, and he turned sharply away again.
Swallowing the questions that came with that, she turned one of the empty water glasses back and forth in her hand, trying not to think about the money. “If not on a slag hauler, or a yacht, what then?”
“You’re coming with me.”
The glass dropped from her hand and rolled across the table before she realized she’d let it go. “With you? You’re tearing apart the station.”
“Like you told Stacy, I find myself obliged to leave early, and unfortunately, you’ve been drafted. That’s the thanks you get for saving my life.” He held up his hand to keep her from interrupting. “I tried to get them to reconsider, but circumstances have changed. My new mission requires your skills.”
An overwhelming sense of dread crept through her, she wanted to throw up… and didn’t even have a roiling stomach to blame for it. “Cable… you know me. I’m not good at following orders. Aaron was the one wired for that life… I’m not.”
He swallowed hard, throat working convulsively. “I know. And I argued that point, but was overruled. That’s why you and I are going to spend a lot of time together. I made Aaron a promise to keep you out of trouble and that’s what I’m going to do. As soon as I can get you out of this, I will.”