Cat scowled with self-disgust. No; she'd not make that mistake any time again soon.
A glance at the chronometer verified the feeling that day watch would begin soon. Cat felt a subliminal stirring of discomfort; Garrett awakening and wanting to be fed again. His hunger reinforced the increasing fullness in her breasts. Now she had no choice but to return to the bedroom and face her husband. Bracing herself for the humbling experience, she rose from her chair and entered the sleeping chamber.
Wulfe lay on his side in the bed, a freshly diapered Garrett next to him. He met her gaze, his dark brown eyes filled with nothing but warmth and welcome, same as the emotions she felt coming from him, each seasoned with caution.
Wulfe's wavy, sable-colored hair spilled around the incredible width of his shoulders. The gold bonding chain glinted around his neck. His beard and moustache shadowed the planes of his face. A war god, she thought irreverently; her very own war god.
Cat swallowed once. If he'd harbored even an iota of anger, this would be easier, but she felt no lingering resentment radiating from him. "You were correct, my husband. As much as I might begrudge the fact, Bellona is safer than the Falchion. While your family can keep the children from harm, you rely upon me to be at your side during this conflict."
"Aye, I do."
She wished he wouldn't watch her quite so closely. "Space Corps and the League of Unified Worlds are depending on us."
"Aye, they are, as I'm sure the Covert Corps is counting on your assistance, rather than you spending time in a Space Corps brig." Wulfe tucked Garrett's blanket around the babe's body.
The gesture of tenderness became her undoing. "No one ever told me," Cat's voice caught, making her take a shaky breath, "that sending my child away would hurt so much."
Wulfe whipped his covers back, met her at the foot of the bed. He pulled her onto his lap, held her against him, soothed her with touch and soft deep sounds of comfort. "I know, cherished one, I know. I like the idea no more than you do, but better to be separated a few weeks or months than to lose him forever."
"Oh, gods, yes." Cat wrapped her arms around Wulfe's neck. His musky man-scent reassured her. "Garesh take the Mallochons to the deepest levels of the Underworld for this."
Wulfe pressed his lips to the side of her neck. "He will, if I have anything to say in the matter. We'll do what we must to keep the children safe."
Cat squeezed him, seeking comfort. Being officers in Space Corps limited their options. Under normal, peaceful conditions, the Corps would have granted them both parental leave after Garrett's birth, if they requested the time. The increasingly hostile advances by the Mallochons effectively eliminated any hope of that possibility. Damn the Mallochons!
For years, Covert Ops had been her salvation, one of the few reasons to go on living. Now she resented the interference in her life. If she took matters into her own hands by staying with the children on Bellona and the Corps court-martialed her for desertion, she'd be in the brig and unable to be with Garrett and Morgan anyway. Separated either way. Resigned to what they must surely do, Cat watched Garrett.
Overwhelmed by love, she swallowed back the thickness in her throat. No matter how much it hurt her, the children's safety came first. "I'll nurse the babe while we have breakfast with Morgan." She glanced away, drew on some inner maternal strength to continue. "Then we can get on with our plans for their departure. By the time arrangements are finalized, Nora will have perfected the formula for Garrett."
Forty-five minutes later, Fallon took charge of the children and left Cat alone with Wulfe. Something to which she'd better become accustomed. Cat glanced at Wulfe, then the comm screen on the desk in their quarters. Worry pulled continually at her stomach, making her doubly glad she'd had nothing more than tea and fruit for breakfast.
Incoming transmissions this morning contained little good news. Malloch, homeworld of the Mallochon Imperium, refused all of the League's attempts to talk peace. Furthermore, the Mallochons denied any wrongdoing on their part. "The way things are shaping up, my husband, I fear we have about a one in one-thousand chance of not being drawn directly into war."
She watched Wulfe tie his long hair back into a leather thong, admired the way his titan-like body moved under the tailored, muscle-hugging gray and black Corps uniform.
He slanted her a wry look. "Unfortunately, that one chance would be the result of us being blown to Creation and back before we get an opportunity to fire a shot in our own defense."
Dread skittered its way up Cat's spine with sharp little claws, almost strong enough to be called premonition if she believed in such a thing. "Not exactly a reassuring thought, is it?"
"I think we both know how the League members will vote on the sanctions against Malloch. A formal declaration."
Cat shifted under Wulfe's scrutiny. He watched her as though waiting for a reaction or some kind of telltale sign she couldn't quite define. Ever since her little dance with death in the delivery room, something in her husband had changed. A hard, savage edge he'd possessed all his life, an edge that some people might mistakenly call brutal, had yielded. Cat still hadn't decided if she favored the transformation, even though she'd campaigned for that exact same thing a few months back.
Caution what you dream for, she admonished herself, or Sister Fate may make the dreams a reality, for good or ill.
"We have certain steps we need to take, Cat."
She'd known this moment would come, but forewarning didn't make the reality sit any easier. "Aye. We have--what?--an even dozen children aboard. We need to get them all to safety."
"How do you want to go about the relocations?"
"Good question. Station Uhlein doesn't have the facilities to accommodate all of them on a permanent basis."
"Not comfortably, anyway," Wulfe agreed. "And now that
Space Corps is beginning to shuffle personnel around in grudging anticipation of war, the situation will only grow worse."
Cat did a series of quick calculations in her head. "What's your time estimate to lay in supplies, do the refit to upgrade our weapon systems, run diagnostics on the Falchion's comm systems and complete crew transfers once we reach Uhlein?"
Wulfe stroked the goatee-like beard covering his strong, determined chin--a habit he'd acquired over the months of watching her carry his son--while he did his own figuring. "Fifteen hours, maybe eighteen, depending on how long before the other cruisers, freighters and carriers put into the station."
Cat nodded. His assessment matched hers well enough. "That would give me just about enough time to shuttle all the little ones to the J'Net Center. From that neutral point, the children could be safely moved to join family members or caretakers."
"Maybe, but if you had any type of delay, you wouldn't make it back in time for the Falchion's departure from Uhlein."
"Then I'd hitch a ride and catch up with you out there."
"I'm not crazy about the idea." Wulfe reached over, placed a forefinger against her lips, effectively stopping her argument before she could speak. "But your suggestion makes sense, ma'ten. What specific arrangements are you thinking of for Morgan and Garrett?"
"Have my sister pick them up at the J'Net Center and take them back to Bellona for us."
"Cass? The perpetual Bellon nay-sayer?"
"Any objections?" Cat arched an eyebrow at him, waiting.
"Several dozen, right off the top of my head. She'd do it?"
"Yes, my Lord. Garrett is my Firstborn, the new generation of the Burnelle House. She'll take him home, if only to insure continuation of our bloodline on Bellona. If anything should happen to her and to me during this confrontation with Malloch, Garrett will inherit the Burnelle holdings and Tribunal seat."
"Perhaps, but will she protect our daughter so zealously?"
"Cass will see to Morgan and protect the Kincade interests the girl is to inherit. Now that Cass has wed into the Kincade clan, she'll do right by your ancestral House. She's finally learning to accept her Bellon
heritage, thanks to Hawke."
"Do you intend to send Fallon with the children?"
Cat left the desk, walked over to her husband. She smoothed the fabric across his chest. "Of course. Without us, they'll need her more than ever."
"Erich Wheeler might feel differently. He seems to have become quite attached to Fallon since she arrived with Morgan."
"Wheeler is always looking for a conquest, and she's exactly his type: pretty, impressionable, and very malleable. I must admit, Fallon seems quite taken by his well-oiled charm. Bah!" Cat spun around and paced the width of the living area. "She's young and will outgrow his kind one day soon. I hope."
"Don't hold back, ma'ten; tell me what you really think of my first officer."
"We don't have the time, but even you must admit his attitude has altered over recent months. He's become withdrawn one moment and gregarious the next."
"True. He's not as predictable as he once was."
"Forget Wheeler for now. You agree with the plan for the children, then?"
Wulfe gave a reluctant-looking nod of agreement. "So that means you have less than two hours to make arrangements with the other parents and the intended caretakers before we reach Uhlein. Enlist assistance from Lieutenant Lyon if you need him. I'm sure our chief of security would be more than pleased to help you."
"Mykal Lyon has been a good friend to me and to you, my Lord. He has proven his loyalty many times over."
"Aye, he has, which is why I trust him with you--and the children. I want you to use the shuttle Righteous to transport the little ones. The other three shuttles will be moving supplies and personnel while we run diagnostics on our translocator and weapon systems." Wulfe caught her arm, pulled her to an abrupt stop. "Cat, I expect the Righteous to be the first shuttle out of the bay. I want you gone before anyone on the outside knows you're leaving. Understood?"
CAT STOOD IN the control room of the main shuttle bay, leaning one hip against Frank Ellery's control console, hoping that outwardly she presented an unconcerned facade. She and the chief watched the flurry of activity in the bay. Cat did her best to ignore the fact she had only hours left to spend with her children. Ten children and their assorted parents were in the process of saying goodbye. One by one, the parents secured the little passengers in the Righteous. Fallon had already boarded with Morgan and Garrett.
A team of service personnel stowed the last of the cargo destined for J'Net. The sight made Cat take a deep breath. Three or four times to nurse Garrett, just a handful of chances to giggle with Morgan over one of the girl's silly jokes. A tech slammed the shuttle's cargo hatch. "That's my cue to get moving. See you when I get back, Chief."
Cat crossed the bay, entered the craft. She sank into the shuttle's pilot seat and tried to clear all but the launch from her mind. The last hour and a half of frenzied activity had taken its toll on everyone. "Beginning preflight check, Chief."
`Aye,' Ellery responded.
"Commander?"
"What is it, Fallon?" Cat swivelled her seat to see her children's nurse making her way forward. "The little ones okay?"
"For the most part. Morgan forgot her doll."
"Oh, space debris." She'd purposefully reinforced her mental shields to keep everyone else's emotions at bay so she could concentrate more easily on her tasks. Now she felt guilty, because in doing so, she'd missed Morgan's distress. "She needs it. Going to live with people she's never met before, even if they are her grandparents, is going to be tough enough. You sit tight with the twelve little monsters and I'll go find the doll."
Cat double-timed her way across the bay. "Chief, I have to go back to my quarters for a minute."
"The delay will throw off the captain's schedule."
"Not if you release the crew shuttle, then the supply shuttles. I'll take the Righteous out last."
"Commander, the captain specifically said--"
"He won't know the difference. Start moving those shuttles out." Cat ran from the bay before Ellery could open his mouth to protest. She reached the nearest lift in record time. Halfway to the deck containing their quarters, a yellow alert sounded throughout the ship. Now what? She spilled from the lift, ran down the corridor and burst through the door of their suite.
"Computer, activate visual, main screen, all major exterior views." The large wall screen lit up and split into nine separate views of surrounding space. Cat saw the personnel shuttle sail into open space, orient herself and turn toward Uhlein. Seconds later, red alert klaxons sounded. One view depicted the awful sight of a Mallochon warship deshrouding.
Cat watched the screen in absolute frozen horror as the Mallochon plasma cannons discharged directly at the Falchion's launched shuttle. The same shuttle she'd ordered to go first. All those people! her mind shrilled in frenzied protest. Death screams from the people aboard the shuttle exploded into her mind as the craft disintegrated. The psychic assault of their death cries drove her to her knees, ripped at her sanity.
The Falchion took a savage Mallochon hit. The deck bucked crazily beneath her. She struggled to her feet in panic. Unable to feel the strong, familiar mental connection to her husband, the more tenuous one with her son, Cat panicked. Gone! Ripped away from her!
Cat whirled and bolted from the rooms. She raced to reach the children, driven to feel them in her arms, to hold them close. Wulfe! Where was Wulfe? What had happened to the children? Dear, sweet Creator! What had happened to all of them?
She commandeered a lift reserved for senior officers during an emergency. Part way down to the shuttle bay levels, the entire ship shuddered around her. The Falchion reeled under the hellish impact of another barrage of vicious enemy fire. The lift hesitated, rocked in violent movements, plunged downward, slammed her to the deck with brutal force.
Chapter 3
WULFE HURRIED through the corridors of the Falchion, determined to get to the main shuttle bay before Cat launched her craft. They'd said their goodbyes, but he wanted to give her one last kiss and hug as a sendoff.
The downward motion of the lift moved right along, but now that the nargging car had to go horizontally, the progress seemed to have slowed by half. He tapped his foot impatiently until he caught the uncomfortable expression on the face of the science intern riding with him. He shrugged; Cat always claimed he scared the newbies spitless.
The car came to a halt and the door panels finally opened. Wulfe put on a burst of speed to run the last few meters of the corridor and through the main entrance of the bay. His heart sank with disappointment. The first shuttle had just cleared the bay launch doors. He could see through the invisible forcefield to the stars and the departing shuttle beyond.
A yellow alert signal sounded, effectively diverting his attention. "Kincade to Wheeler. What's with the yellow alert?"
`Seleen's picked up an energy reading--oh, hell, go to red alert! Captain, Mallochon vessel deshrouding off our--'
"Bring that shuttle back!" Wulfe shouted across the bay to Ellery to get the chief's attention. "Get her back here! Now!"
The red alert klaxons drowned out his frantic order. Wulfe watched in helpless horror as a Mallochon warship fired her forced plasma cannon point-blank on the launched shuttle. The attack wrenched an anguished bellow from him. "Nooo!"
The Righteous exploded into a million tiny flickers of brilliant white light. "By the gods, no!"
The warship pivoted against the stars and fired at the Falchion. Another blinding burst of light flared right on top of him. Wulfe cursed and threw his arm across his face. The bay erupted, surrounded him with flames, deafening noise and crashing bulkheads.
The forcefield collapsed. The drop in pressure sucked out the air, extinguished the fire. The maelstrom of outrushing atmosphere dragged Wulfe toward cold, dark space and the scattered atoms of his family. "I'm coming, cherished ones. You will not die alone. Wait for me..."
CAT STAGGERED back to her feet in the sudden darkness, rubbing a bruised knee. Reality gripped her. The children! Wulfe! Gel oozed fr
om overhead electrical channels and leaked onto her face. She ducked away, hissed an oath of disgust. The hard landing of the car must have damaged the control panels and circuitry. She wiped the cold slime away.
The lift car shifted again, jolted under the impact of what felt like another strike by the enemy. Garesh take the Mallochons! The compartment finally seemed to stabilize enough for her to try moving again. Feeling her way in the dark, she hobbled forward, intent on getting to her loved ones. Creator, protect them!
The nargging doors refused to open. Garrett! Morgan! Wulfe! Cat beat her fists against the panels, fighting back the terror. No good. Cursing the Mallochons and feeling her way in the dark, she snatched the stiletto from her thigh sheath and attempted to work the tip through the seal. The damn thing kept slipping through her sweaty hands.
The lift door mechanism groaned and squealed. By the dim light entering through the slit between seals, Cat saw the vague shape of big fingers push through the narrow opening and gain tenuous leverage. A harsh voice uttered a choice Bellon oath.
"Commander, are you in there?" Mykal Lyon's voice, still raspy and uneven, came to her between hacking coughs.
"Mykal?" Cat braced herself against a sudden maneuver by the Falchion that tried to bounce her around the car's interior. Bloody artificial gravity acting up. "I can't sense the children or Wulfe. I've got to get to them. Get me out of here!"
"Aye." The security chief grunted as he forced one arm and then part of his shoulder through the opening. The widened gap allowed smoky, acrid air into the lift. "Are you injured?"
"I'm okay. How badly are we hit? What's damaged? Do we have injury reports?"
"Half the shuttle bay's gone. That's all I know."
"The shuttle bay? Sweet Creator, the children."
"Can you slide through?"
Cat desperately wiggled and squeezed her way out of the lift, fought her way under Lyon's braced arm. Gods, she couldn't breathe right with all the smoke! Her contortions set the car to swaying in its tube. "Mykal, I can't sense Garrett. Or Wulfe. Why can't I feel them?"
Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3 Page 3