Mako (The Mako Saga: Book 1)

by Ian J. Malone

  ****

  Alone and shivering in her cockpit, Mac jerked alert at the sudden chirp of her instruments. Her face pale and flushed from several minutes of sobbing, she peered through the watery prisms of her eyes to see a tiny streak of electricity crackle in the distance. Then, leaning forward and daring to hope, Mac surged with emotion when it ignited before her, producing the magnificent blue cloud she’d so desperately prayed for, and the one and only sight that could’ve set her world right again: a lone silver fighter, rocketing free of its epicenter.

  “Flight, this is Daredevil.”

  “HEEEELLLLLLL YEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!” the Tuskan erupted, and as if coming up for a final, life-saving gasp of air, Mac blew out a sigh of sweet, soulful relief.

  “Daredevil, this is flight,” Danny blurted past the comm officer. “It is damn good to see you, bro!”

  “Thanks, Danny,” said Lee. “Sorry for all the suspense, but that last jump outta the Crimson got a bit hairy. Honestly, I still don’t have a clue where I just was,” he chuckled, “but thankfully I was alone because it took me a bit to reboot the system and dig the right return coordinates outta the nav history. Anyway, better late than never, right?”

  “Amen to that,” Danny sighed. “Believe me, we’re just glad you could make it.”

  Lee grinned from his seat at the Mako ahead of him. “Yeah well, I have it on pretty good authority that nothin’ pisses a girl off like a guy who doesn’t keep his promises, and I kinda had one of those to keep, myself.”

  An adorable giggle snorted free of Mac’s sniffling.

  “Yes you did, my friend,” Danny agreed. “Now enough with the small talk, already! Rumor has it there’s about to be one helluva party on this boat, so you freaks kick it in gear and get your butts on deck. If memory serves, Ryan’s got first round.”

  “Say no more, Flight,” Link exclaimed, firing up the Tuskan’s boosters to move out. “Bust out the Scotch, and hide the women and children, because Jester and Wulver are inbound and up to the task!”

  Navigating the mob of elated engineers, officers, fellow pilots and crewmen to set down on the Praetorian’s flight deck, Lee was barely able to disembark before being mugged by the raucous crowd of his peers, all of whom waited eagerly to pay their respects to these five unlikely heroes. Scanning the bay around him for any sign of Mac, Lee dismounted from his cockpit and pushed through the excited crowd to find Hamish and Link already basking in the glory of the moment with a group of ecstatic deckhands at the foot of the Tuskan’s boarding ramp.

  “Hey Hamish, look who decided to drop in,” Link grunted, slugging the Scot in the arm to get his attention. “Thanks for giving us all a heart attack out there, Top. Could you keep things a little less dramatic next time?”

  “Aye, Lee,” Hamish agreed. “I’ve had ma fill of close calls for one day, if ya don’t mind.”

  “Sorry about that, fellas,” Lee shrugged, craning his neck over the masses before eventually spotting the second Mako across the hangar.

  “Hey, Tiny,” Layla called out, emerging from the crowd to stand in front of Link, who braced himself for yet another hostile encounter. “Those were some pretty impressive moves out there today.”

  Already primed for a snarky retort, Link’s face twisted in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah,” he stuttered. “Well, ya know. Good teachers and all that.”

  Lee and Hamish exchanged glances.

  “Yeah well, thanks for saving my ass out there, alright?”

  Then the tall, leggy pilot did something no one—but especially not Link—ever expected… she smiled at him.

  “Oh… yeah, no problem,” Link managed, visibly confounded. “Ya know, serve and protect and honor… and whatever…”

  Locking eyes with her as she stepped past him, Link turned back to his snickering friends—his expression still filled with bewilderment—though it quickly morphed into one of pure shock when Layla’s right hand landed a playful swat to his butt on her way back into the crowd.

  Lee and Hamish doubled over in hysterics.

  “Don’t even think about it, bro,” Danny cautioned, sauntering past a huddle of pilots to see Link whirl on his heels in search of his former nemesis. “That girl will eat you alive.”

  “Bite me, Crockett! I can hang!”

  “I won’t,” Danny said coyly. “But she might.”

  Wanting no part of this one, Lee turned to greet Ryan, who stepped to the forefront.

  “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Summerston,” admitted the captain, “that was one seriously wild plan of yours. Truth be told, I didn’t think you had a chance in hell of getting outta there alive, but this is one instance when I’m pretty happy to have been wrong.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Lee. “I’m just glad it all played out the way we hoped.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Ryan laughed, shaking hands with Hamish, who turned to speak with Wyatt.

  “Hey Captain, just out of curiosity, what was your plan if we didn’t—”

  “Sorry, Daredevil, but I’ll have to raincheck on the strategy session,” Ryan interrupted, flashing a tight grin. “From the looks of things, you have more important matters to attend to.”

  Lee turned around to see Mac barreling through the crowd toward him, and not breaking stride, he stepped forward and swept her into his arms for the one single kiss that each of them had literally fought their way through a war to get home to.

  “Oh, thank god!” Hamish exclaimed. “It’s about bloody time!”

  “Ain’t that the truth!” Link crowed beside him. “No lie, if we all got out of this thing alive, we were seriously gonna lock the two of you in a room together until you at least talked about how stupidly in love you guys have been for like, oh, I dunno… ever!”

  Danny made a face. “Where have you guys been?” he chided. “Mac and Lee… finally! That’s old news, boys.”

  “Since when?” the duo demanded.

  “Since back on Myrick when he kicked down her cell door and went all Doc Holliday on that bald-headed guard.” He clapped a hand to Hamish’s back. “C’mon fellas… get with the times!”

  Just then, Danny felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “So about that trip to the infirmary,” Reynolds said, clutching a fresh set of bandages in her hand and offering what almost resembled a smile.

  “Un huh,” Link huffed suggestively. “Go have your war wound treated there, hero boy.”

  Taking Madisyn’s cue to leave, Danny smirked a reply and turned to go.

  “Hey Danny, hold up,” Link called back, slipping through the crowd to catch them before they were gone. “Listen, all jokes aside—Lee and Mac… you think this is actually legit?”

  Peering over Link’s shoulder at the blissful couple, still locked in their embrace, Danny’s face filled with a look of genuine happiness for his friends.

  “Put it to you this way, Link,” he laughed. “We just witnessed the single longest run to first base in the history of romance and sports metaphors. Take it to the bank, bro… they’re a lock.”

  Chapter 34: Shindig

  “So how long do I have to wear this thing, anyway?” Danny said grudgingly from his seat in the infirmary, flexing his fingers to adjust to the restrictive discomfort of his new sling.

  “A few weeks, at least… maybe a month,” Reynolds ordered, inspecting it to make sure it fit him properly.

  “A month? Seriously?” Danny groaned. “C’mon, Doc, you’ve got me taped up like a mummy here! I mean, it feels—”

  She shushed him with a finger to his lips; then shifted her attention back to his med chart. “I’m the doctor, you’re the patient. Understand?”

  Danny rolled his eyes. “But what about—”

  “I’m sorry, are you not hearing me?” Reynolds shot him a glare. “Maybe a few more cautionary observation days here in the infirmary would drive my point through that thick skull of yours?”

  Danny raised his good hand to surrender.

  “That’s what I th
ought,” she concluded with a final scribble. “Besides, you’re lucky I didn’t dose you up with a sedative to keep you from going back out like a madman yesterday.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that,” he grumbled, seeing her drop the chart to her side en route to the corner office.

  Still a little miffed over the idea of an entire month in a sling, Danny heaved a sigh of frustration and followed her to her desk with his eyes. That was when it dawned on him… her hair was not in its usual ponytail today. Normally she kept it pulled back and out of the way so she could work, but not today. Today it was down. Long, silky, and flowing free across her shoulders in a dazzling cascade of fiery red, set perfectly over the white contrast of her lab coat… it was down.

  For a brief moment, he actually thought of complimenting her on that fact, but uncertain of the response it would elicit—sincere or not—Danny decided against it.

  “Take three of these per day for a week, no questions,” Reynolds instructed, tossing him a bottle of pills, which he caught instinctively with his right hand, sending a hot flash of pain through his wounded shoulder.

  “Nice,” she frowned, seeing him grimace.

  “So are we done here or what?” Danny griped as he scooped the bottle from the floor, his patience with her less-than-hospitable bedside manner waning.

  “Yep, you’re done,” she chirped, taking a seat behind the desk and trading Danny’s file for another from the stack in front of her.

  Watching her delve straight back into her work, as if somehow he’d miraculously just up and disappeared from the room, Danny wondered if he would ever truly understand his feelings for this woman—or, for that matter, hers for him. On one hand, he was pretty sure that most of the time she hated the mere sight of him… and yet others, he wasn’t so sure. Her cold, guarded demeanor made her so incredibly difficult to read, and that alone perplexed him beyond words because he’d never had that problem with other women, ever. Then again, it now went without saying that Dr. Madisyn Reynolds was definitely not other women. That much had been made crystal clear to him long before today.

  Still, there was something about her that he just couldn’t take his eyes off of, and no matter how much he wanted to label her a cold-hearted Medusa and be done with her, he couldn’t escape the feeling that somewhere—tucked securely behind all those carefully laid defenses—there was a woman very much worth knowing, and knowing well.

  Suddenly feeling a bit exposed, as he had the day before on the flight deck, Danny averted his gaze and started for the door.

  “Hey Danny?” Reynolds called after him.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he droned. “Three pills per day, for a week, and don’t screw with the sling. I got it, already.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was… going to say.”

  Detecting the reluctance in her voice, Danny halted in his tracks and turned to face her.

  Dropping the file back on her desk, Reynolds slumped back in her chair and stared at him, visibly in debate with herself over something.

  “I was actually going to say…” she hesitated. “Well, what I meant was, my shift is over in an hour and I… well, I was…” Huffing in annoyance, she fired a confused look to the ceiling. “Well, I was thinking of grabbing a drink in the OC to unwind… if you’re interested, or whatever.”

  A deluge of slick responses flooded through Danny’s mind, nearly all of which he’d used with no less than resounding success over the years with countless other women. But here and now—with her—every single one of them felt completely and utterly wrong.

  Ruffling his hair with a set of nervous fingers, Danny leaned against the door frame and gave earnest consideration to his reply.

  “Tell ya what,” he began, swallowing as much of the awkwardness in his throat as he could. “Rumor has it the mess hall makes a truly awful cup of coffee. If it’s alright with you… maybe we could start there?”

  Reynolds’ expression flashed hard with confusion. She obviously hadn’t anticipated such a response, and part of him reveled in the satisfaction of having stumped her for a change.

  Then slowly, her hard blue eyes softened to a sparkle unlike anything he’d ever seen, and just like that, the last of Danny’s hostility for her vanished, lost forever in that elusive smile that now, at long last, finally allowed itself to be revealed.

  “That would actually be…” Reynolds trailed off. “... really nice.”

  ****

  The next three days were a whirlwind of activity. Admiral Katahl issued standing R&R orders to the entire Praetorian crew while the ship hovered in orbit of Aura, awaiting the end of final preparations on the planet below for what they were told would be a victory celebration for the ages.

  Now having essentially been labeled crew members themselves, each of them spent the majority of their days out and about in the halls of the great ship, though never refusing the occasional shuttle ride to the planet’s surface to soak up the local culture there which, until now, they’d only experienced from the bland confines of Fort Manning.

  As was quickly becoming commonplace, Lee and Mac were inseparable. When they weren’t joyriding through the cosmos in Makos like star-crossed teenagers with Daddy’s car keys, they were busy exploring the many sights and sounds of Retaun, where the heart of the festivities were to take place.

  Danny, meanwhile, spent the bulk of his time working with Noll, whom he was quickly developing an almost mentor-like bond with. At the same time, it wasn’t lost on the others how uncharacteristically diligent he’d been with his daily checkups in the infirmary the last few days, particularly given his well-known loathing of such places.

  Link, on the other hand, was little more than a ghost during this time. On the rare occasions when he did duck out of hiding to grace them with his presence for lunch, he was noticeably tight-lipped about where he’d been, or rather, who he’d been with. As such, it came as little coincidence when Ryan would contact Lee in search of Layla, who, until recently, had never been late to a briefing a day in her life.

  Finally, Hamish was now all but a fixture on the flight deck, where he and Wyatt spent endless hours poring through engine schematics, tinkering with electronic gadgets, and brainstorming new ideas for how to make things run more efficiently around the ship. As motorhead camaraderie went, they were two peas in a pod—different worlds or not—and having become extremely fond of the chief during their time on board, the group could hardly think of a better pairing of new friends.

  Still without fail, at night they all regrouped in the Officers’ Club, where glasses were raised, beer was sloshed, and songs were sung… or slurred, depending on the lateness of the hour.

  On the third day, the group watched in awe from the bridge as the mighty Praetorian descended effortlessly through the scorching heat and rumbling pressure of Aura’s atmosphere, eventually coming to a calm, peaceful, splashdown rest in the ocean bay just off shore at the Port of Retaun.

  Stepping through the hatch onto the long dock outside—its weathered wooden planks clacking under the neatly shined shoes of his brand new, navy-blue ASC dress uniform—Lee smiled as he took in the breathtaking coastal scene around him. By definition, it was all alien in nature, and yet it still felt so welcomingly familiar to him.

  Soaking up the gentle warmth of the sun on his face and the soothing sound of the surf in his ears, he peered out over the crystal-blue waters and took a long, thoughtful breath of the salty, early morning breeze.

  “Distant galaxies, hyperspace wormholes, Legends Field…” Mac sighed and stepped out behind him, likewise formally clothed in ASC dress blues. “I can’t take you anywhere without ending up on a beach when it’s all over.”

  Lee laughed, eyeing the gorgeous landscape ahead, its soaring palm trees swaying in the wind alongside plumes of sea oats and lush green shrubs which crested the white, sandy dunes for as far as the eye could see.

  “I suppose,” he admitted. “But honestly, Mac, would you have it any other way?”


  Mac wrinkled her nose. “Oh, I’ve got no hate for the beach,” she prefaced. “But I dunno… I’ve always kinda had a thing for mountains, really. Guess I’m just a sucker for a view from on high.”

  Lee grinned at her meaning. “Alright, here’s the deal, then,” he countered. “You learn to surf and I’ll learn to rock-climb. Fair enough?”

  “Deal!” Mac agreed.

  The Auran capital city was nothing short of a thriving metropolis, spanning miles in each direction, though its signature skyline was unlike anything any of them had ever seen. From a distance, it very much resembled the high-tech, sophisticated look that one might expect to find here, with its soaring glass buildings, steely executive vibe, and intricate, space-age architecture.

  Up close, however, much of the city’s interior was more akin to something out of Greek mythology, with its massive pillars, marble-textured surfaces, and classically stylistic feel. Its cobblestone streets were lined with old-fashioned wrought-iron lamps and stone sculptures; its common areas filled with lavish tropical gardens and ornate sitting areas for reading.

  Before today, Lee had felt as if he’d gained a pretty clear grasp of what Auran culture stood for from the outpouring of hospitality and support shown to them by the Praetorian crew, but never had the very essence of the Auran civilization itself been so plainly epitomized as it was here, in this place.

  This city, where technological advancement and cultural heritage seemed to collide, was the ultimate symbol of the people who called it home, and the way of life that was everything to them.

  “Sounds like we’ve got ourselves a crowd up there,” Danny observed as the distant clamor of cheering voices grew louder with their approach.

  “President Wylon did seem to think there’d be a few people in attendance today,” Ryan suggested, walking up ahead next to Katahl.

  Following the two men through a maze of alleyways and offshoot paths through the city streets, the group cut through a courtyard before finally stopping at the rear entrance of a towering, standalone structure that Lee recognized on sight.