by C. J. Barry
"Am I close?” She rubbed her cheek against him.
Grey clenched his teeth. “No, but I am."
He reached down and hauled her to her feet. Her eyes were hooded, her curve of a smile sexy and languid as he undressed her in the same order she had disrobed him. Only much faster, much rougher. His face was dark and fierce, his motions jerky, his control lost. As soon as the last of her clothes were shed, he gripped her around the waist and set her on the edge of the table with the planet of Courf spinning behind her.
He pushed her legs far apart and thrust into her, a feral growl curling his lip. Cidra clung to his shoulders as he drove into her again and again. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, deeper. Raw, naked, powerful lust took them. Her climax was an explosion that careened through her body. With one final, violent lunge he buried himself in her and shuddered, ravaged mercilessly by his own release.
Slowly, the room came back into focus for him. He became aware of the translucent glow of Courf's holo image and the low hum of equipment. Became aware of the smell and taste of his own sweat dripping down his face. Aware of the incredible woman whose legs wrapped around him, her head resting on his shoulder. She was tracing one of his earlobes with her finger. He hadn't died after all.
"You're close,” he murmured in her ear.
He felt her smile against his neck. “I know,” she whispered back. “Decker told me it was behind your left ear."
There was a beat of silence before Grey doubled over laughing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"Last stop. The middle of nowhere. Thank you for flying Calíbre Starways,” Coon joked.
Grey shielded his eyes against the brilliant light of the star lines that flooded Calíbre's main viewport and bridge as they slipped out of hyperspace. After a few disoriented seconds, the galaxy appeared with its familiar star-sprinkled, black palette before them.
"Any company?” Grey asked.
"Scanning.” Coon crisply tapped the console. “Nothing. We are all alone as far as the scanners can reach."
Grey nodded. “Good. I want to know the minute we are no longer alone.” He shot Coon an all-business look. Coon smiled back wanly, his orders perfectly clear.
"Is that Courf straight ahead?” Cidra asked from behind Coon.
"That's it, sugar,” Coon acknowledged. She smiled at the endearment. The man just grew on you.
"Pretty,” she said. Too beautiful to be a grave, she thought. It was more crystalline than the holo image had portrayed and perfectly formed, almost artificial. The giant red sun behind it gave the planet a rosy, healthy glow—clever camouflage for its deadly environment. The forbidding, darkside facing them revealed the planet's true nature.
Coon's long whistle cut through the silence on Calíbre's bridge.
Grey pulled his eyes away from the planet of Courf filling the main viewport and walked over to Coon's station.
"What's up?” Grey leaned over, looking at the displays on Coon's console. Courf's solar system appeared in miniature, hovering above the bridge's holo deck before them.
Coon chuckled softly and shook his head. “This is your lucky day, Captain. Would you believe there's a ship down on that rock that's emitting a weak but persistent distress signal?” He turned to Grey and smiled. “Looks like you did it again. I locked the coordinates into the K12. We can be out of here before dinner."
Grey didn't smile back. He didn't even blink. Coon tracked his eyes to holo image. “See something?"
"I don't know.” Grey pointed to a section of miniature the solar system. “I thought I saw a shadow of some sort, a ghost. Then it disappeared."
Coon tapped the controls frantically, changing the filters and adjusting the frequencies to full capacity. He spoke as he worked. “In my experience, there's no such thing as ghosts. I can't see a thing. I don't like it."
Grey straightened. “Neither do I. That ghost just happens to be on the other side of the planet and conveniently blocked from sensor range. I don't suppose there are any transmission stations around here that we could bounce a signal off and get a look at it?"
Coon looked mortally wounded. “Don't you think I'd have done that by now? I'm not an idiot."
"Sorry,” Grey apologized absently, deep in thought. “How long would it take for a surveillance probe to check it out?"
"Too long,” Coon muttered. “At least twelve hours."
Grey shook his head. “You're right. Too long.” He paused, fighting down the common sense that told him to retreat until they knew what was going on. “After Cidra and I depart, I want you to take Calíbre out of orbit above us. Hang back so you get a good view of any spacecraft rounding the planet."
"And what if we come face to face with a ghost?” Coon's voice raised an octave.
"Try not to get blown to bits before you jump to hyperspace,” Grey replied.
Coon's mouth dropped open. “And just leave you here?"
"Hopefully it won't come to that. I may have found a way to shake them up.” Grey smirked. “Maybe we can get them to follow one of our own ghosts."
"How do you plan to do that?” Coon asked.
Grey frowned at the holo image. “The same way they followed us here. Get Decker for me. There's a tracking device somewhere on this ship and I want to know where it is."
* * * *
Major Berman stood tall and defiant in the doorway of Plass’ quarters.
"Why are we hiding from the Faulkner woman?” Berman demanded, his face pinched in anger.
Plass leaned further back in his chair and breathed deeply. The confrontation was inevitable. His time had run out. Actually, he was surprised Berman had held out this long.
"Major Berman, please sit down,” Plass replied in an even voice.
Berman scowled as he stepped inside and took a seat as ordered. Plass eyed him. The man looked positively explosive.
Plass leaned forward, taking a few long moments to gather his thoughts and let Berman squirm. Unfortunately, Berman squirmed about as much as Tausek.
Finally, he looked the man in the eye. “We've been together for many years, Major. In all that time, have you ever known me to lie?"
Berman blinked at his superior officer, stunned by the unexpected question. “No, sir."
Plass nodded. “Have you ever known me to be irrational or unreasonable? To take unauthorized liberties with my position? To do anything that would compromise the d'Hont?"
Berman shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his initial anger dissipating rapidly. “No, sir."
"Good. Keep that in mind, Major. I have an interesting story to tell you.” When Plass stood up, Berman arose.
"Sit,” Plass snapped as he walked to the viewport and stared at Courf's giant red sun. Plass drew a deep breath and clasped his hands together behind his back. He heard the rustle of uniform as the other man complied.
Satisfied with the shift of power, Plass paused and contemplated his existence against the eternity of space. His entire life would be judged by a single day. The balance of this mission lay before him as he took the biggest risk of his life. He was about to gain an ally or lose his command.
"Ten years ago, Dakru and the d'Hont were betrayed,” Plass started.
"I know what happened ten years ago Commander.” Major Berman interrupted impatiently. “I was there. Jarid Faulkner abandoned us and a million Dakruians died including my mate and children. You don't need to remind me of that."
Plass gazed out into the stars. “You're wrong, Major. Jarid Faulkner did not betray us.” He spun around and pinned the Major with a look. “You did."
"I did no such thing,” the Major growled, rising from his seat in a furious rush.
Plass stared down the giant of a man and took a steady step toward him. “Jarid Faulkner sent that shipment as agreed. You and nineteen other d'Hont pilots destroyed it."
Major Berman's eyes widened. His face grew red with rage. “That's impossible."
"It's true,” Plass continued as he walk
ed slowly to the desk, placing it between him and the Major. “That was no refugee ship bound for Dakru. The fleet you destroyed carried the vaccine shipment from Avion. You were lied to. Jarid Faulkner did not betray us. Tausek did."
The words hit Major Berman like a fist. He looked stunned. His eyes were wild with confusion, disbelief, and enough speculation to keep Plass hopeful. Then Berman's eyes narrowed dangerously at his commanding officer.
"How do you know this?” he hissed.
Plass smiled grimly. “You described the Avion fleet to me yourself. Tausek was the only one who knew the exact coordinates of the Avion shipment. Tausek alone directed the attack."
"Why would Tausek do that?” he growled.
Plass sidestepped the question with one of his own. “Do you think Tausek would be ruler of Dakru if it were not for the Avion incident? Do you think he would have risen to power so quickly if half the government body wasn't decimated and the planet in chaos?"
"What does that have to do with this?” Berman demanded.
"Think about it, Major. Before the incident, the d'Hont were an average military unit and Tausek, an average military man. What do you think his chances were to change that?"
Berman scowled at him but the point was given grudgingly.
"That's all you have?” Berman accused. “Perhaps you are simply jealous of Tausek's power.” He crossed his arms over his barrel chest, warming up to his subject. “Thinking you can topple the ruler with a few accusations and circumstantial evidence?"
Plass hesitated to add his own gut feelings and suspicions. They weren't exactly hard proof. Bluffing seemed the logical choice. “I have additional evidence. When we capture Cidra Faulkner, I will have even more. That's why we need her alive."
The Major held him in lethal scrutiny, evidently deciding whether or not Plass was fit to command. Before Berman could make a final assessment, Plass made a final, shrewd point. “Either way, we will have her. If she has nothing to offer, we can kill her as planned. If we kill her now, we may never uncover our real enemy."
Plass waited. There was nothing else he could say or offer. The seeds of doubt had been planted.
Berman drew himself up to his full height, bearing down on Plass. “Very well. We will capture her alive. You will have one hour to obtain any information from her. After that, I decide her fate."
Knowing it was the best offer he would get, Plass nodded.
Berman turned and left without another word.
Plass stared at the door, contemplating his next move. Major Berman covered Expunger's aircrew and Plass now had Berman's tenuous word of honor, as well as his unconcealed warning. Plass shook it off. At this point, his only real fear was failing himself.
Next on the list of allies would be Major Holtz, his Security Chief in charge of the ship's crew. As with all the high-ranking personnel Plass had hand-picked for this mission, Holtz's integrity was absolute. Not only was his service record impeccable, he was reasonable as well.
Plass steepled his hands. Yes, securing Major Holtz's support and cooperation would be the next order of business. With both forces supporting him, he would at least be able to keep Faulkner alive long enough to find out what she knew.
* * * *
"Sure you don't want to share a suit?” Grey asked as he grinned and leaned against the landing bay wall watching Cidra fight an opponent she couldn't beat—an uncompressed, integral-environment survival suit.
Cidra shot him a scathing look as she struggled inside the massive bulk of the apparatus.
"There's enough room in here for the whole crew,” she muttered, trying to locate her hands in the meters of crisp, white material. “Now, I can believe it was designed by a man."
"Hold still,” Leena said from somewhere behind her. “You won't be very comfortable if this doesn't shrink right."
"Are you sure about this?” Cidra looked down skeptically at the metal collar around her neck. “This thing is going to protect me down there on that ice rock?"
"Trust me. It will. I've done this lots of times.” Leena straightened suddenly, her hair swinging around her head. “When activated, the collar will radiate a force field over your head like a helmet. Invisible. You won't even know it's there, unless something comes in contact with it."
Cidra frowned at her. “Then what happens?"
Leena shrugged. “Depends. If it's another force field, they merge together. If it's not, the force field will act like an ordinary solid helmet."
Remembering Decker's earlier comments, Cidra hedged, “What if the suit tears?"
"I've never seen that happen.” Leena shook her head, her hair bobbing away. “We use these all the time on finds. You wouldn't believe the beating they can take. Not only that, the suit is self-healing. If it detects a tear, it will compress around it, sealing it off."
Leena checked all the gages and settings on the outside of the suit one last time. “OK, here goes. Whatever you do, don't move until it's done."
Cidra froze as the thermoform survival suit began to hiss and growl, squeezing excess material snugly around her. It was then she wondered how it knew when to stop. After a few uneasy minutes, it halted, apparently happy with its final form.
Leena gave it a quick check and smiled proudly. “Perfect. You're all set. Try walking around."
Experimentally, Cidra stepped forward, pleasantly surprised at the lightness and flexibility of the custom-fitted survival suit. She squatted and straightened. Leena was right, the suit fit perfectly. “Amazing."
Grey smiled at her. “Congratulations. It's yours now. Every crew member has one."
Cidra grinned back at him. “It's a dream come true. Really."
Grey laughed. “That's exactly what they all say."
"Can anyone join this party?” Barrios walked into the landing bay toward the trio.
Cidra smiled at him. “You just missed all the fun. Maybe you should get one of these."
"No thanks. Besides, I don't think it would do much shrinking around me,” Barrios joked, but Grey noted his heart wasn't in it.
Grey said something softly to Leena. She nodded and turned to the group. “I have to run. Cidra, if you have any trouble with the suit, let me know.” With that, she left.
Grey pushed off the wall and made a conspicuous trip into the K12, leaving Barrios and Cidra alone.
Barrios watched Grey enter the K12 and turned to Cidra, taking both her hands in his beefy fingers. “You're leaving soon."
"Yes. As soon as we take position over Courf.” It broke her heart to see him so grim, knowing full well that it was her fault.
Barrios nodded for a few moments, working on his next words. “The d'Hont are close."
"I know.” Cidra smiled sadly at his downcast expression. “You can't worry about it, Barrios. We have no choice."
He squeezed her hands. “I know.” He raised his red-rimmed eyes to meet hers. “In my heart, you are my daughter. No matter what happens, always know that I love you."
Cidra felt the tears burn behind her eyes. She threw her arms around her old friend's shoulders. “I love you too, Barrios. I would never have made it this far without you, but I can't quit now. I owe it to everyone who ever loved me."
She backed away from him and smiled, feeling Grey's presence behind her.
Barrios looked at him over Cidra's shoulder and ordered, “You take care of her down there."
Grey gave the older man his pledge. “I'll do my best.” Or die trying. The words went unspoken, but understood.
Barrios kissed Cidra on the cheek, turned, and walked out of the landing bay.
* * * *
From one hundred meters above, Courf's exterior didn't resemble the beautiful polished stone Cidra had seen from deep space. Between dense patches of ice fog, the darkside loomed ominous and terrifying just below them. The K12's searchlights revealed a surface that was tortured and scarred with criss-crossing ridges and slashing canyons. Courf endured a painful existence.
She gave
silent thanks to the crashed transport's crew for having the foresight to set the distress beacon on.
"We're almost there,” Grey said gruffly.
Cidra cast him a sidelong glance. He looked large and imposing in his survival suit. He also looked irritated. He had hardly spoken since they'd entered the K12. Even though the transport was still on the darkside, he had insisted they suit up immediately and locate the shipment. It was an unexpected risk, but he had refused to answer her questions about it. His expression was as icy as Courf itself.
Grey adjusted the angle of the searchlights. He was still angry with himself. How could he have missed it? Decker had found the d'Hont tracking device on the K12. It was now safely aboard Calíbre in a space pod, ready to be launched at a moment's notice. A convincing diversion, he hoped. It was his only trick left.
As it was, the d'Hont now knew his exact position. He had led them straight to the shipment. His ghost had come alive in the form of the d'Hont Class One cruiser. As much as he hated searching for something in the dark, they had no choice. Time was running out. The d'Hont were waiting. He wondered what they were waiting for.
"It should be dead ahead and within visual range. There.” He pointed to a distant ridge lit up by the K12's probe light.
Cidra tried to pick out the shape of a transport as the clouds of ice fog swept along the jagged surface. Then she saw it and breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was it visible, it appeared intact.
Grey maneuvered the K12 in close, landing on a relatively flat patch of ground with a thump. Silence, fog, and incessant night encased them. He left the K12's engines running in the even they needed to make a quick liftoff. He turned to Cidra with a faint smile. “Ready?"
She gave him a haunted look that turned his stomach. He pulled her with him as he stood up. Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her gently. “I'll be there with you."