Shawn let his arms flop out to the side, exhausted by the fireball of a woman. He cast a prayer to every all-powerful divinity he could think of for packing that much energy into so compact a person. Breathing hard, partly because Dianne’s final thrashing had cut off his air for a few seconds, he swallowed the taste of her still on his tongue and gasped out a soft, “Damn…”
Dianne’s breasts heaved up and down, her breathing ragged for totally different yet equally delicious reasons. “Yup. After…a few weeks of hell…that was exactly what we needed to celebrate!”
Shawn laughed in agreement, taking long, deliberate breaths to calm his heart. “I feel a little guilty.”
“Oh?”
“You spent a lot of time on top.”
Dianne let slip a soft giggle. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
As his brain got a fair share of the blood supply again, Shawn rolled his head back and forth as if to shake away a nagging feeling that came with his renewed ability to think clearly, “You sure?” His question was mostly innocent, but held a certain edge of seriousness.
Dianne purred again, tracing languid fingers along his body and her own with both remembered and impending passion. “What can I say, I like being the pilot. Thought you knew that about me?”
Shawn admitted he did with a warm, wry laugh, but then added, “That’s not what I meant.” More of the serious crept in.
Dianne quirked open one of her narrow, fiercely attractive eyes. She had just realized his playfulness was fading. “Oh? What?”
Grumbling at himself for even bringing it up, Shawn propped himself up into a sitting position against a pillow squashed up against the headboard. “Oh, nothing that big. Just thinking.” He ran an idle hand along her nearest leg, fearing that if he kept talking this might be the last time he would be privileged to stroke the sea-pearl skin covering the well-toned iron of her lean muscles.
Dianne rolled her eyes and swept her arms behind her head, artfully arranging herself for Shawn’s viewing enjoyment; a clear temptation. His touch grew instinctively more heated, but she decided to make him suffer, not letting him off the hook. “Out with it, or out of the bed. You know how I feel about waffling.”
Shawn laughed, “Yeah, you don’t waste your time.” He shrugged, “But, I guess that’s what I mean. Why are you? You know, wasting your time?”
“What, with you?” Her mischievous grin flashed, “What’s wrong, Shawn? Not feeling up to it?” She reached down to grab him hard in just the right and wrong place, depending on one’s view. Fighting to keep the chat light, she secretly hoped he would just let it go.
Shawn suffered through a flush of embarrassment along with a not so small throb of desire. The war waged inside him for a few lingering seconds, but whatever was nagging at him won out, “Nah, nothing like that. It’s just...well, you know. This is fun, but I figured you’d have drifted over to someone else by now.”
With feigned amusement, knowing exactly who he meant, Dianne played dumb and hoped he’d let the matter go. “Do you have someone in mind?”
Instead, Shawn didn’t take the hint and took the plunge, “Everyone knows. Greg. Lind wishes it was him, I know. Both are among my best friends. I know the way they think. But you and Greg are good together. The end of the year is coming, and after the Academy, we get spread out over known space. Time’s running out to see where that could go.” He shrugged. “So, what gives? You practically hunted me down that first night, remember? You aren’t the subtle type, remember? Why not Greg?”
Dianne squeezed him again, “What can I say, you looked sexy in boxing shorts, and you kicked some serious ass that night. I couldn’t resist. A girl has needs.” She sighed as his smile didn’t reappear. “Where is this coming from, Shawn? Are you feeling guilty that you’re the boy-toy I grabbed instead of one of your buddies?” She poked a teasing finger into his side.
Trying to ignore the needling jabs of her words and finger together, Shawn didn’t let up, not letting her dodge away. “You made it clear we’re just messing around here. I am cool with that. It’s just…” He faded off, something clearly on his mind.
Dianne broke her indolent pose and rolled over to lay between his legs, planting her elbows on either side of him, propping her chin up with her arms which rested across his stomach. She looked up past his more interesting bits and considered his face. It was a serviceable one, neither blindingly handsome nor inherently flawed. The fastest adjective that came to her mind was ‘safe’. He evoked her passion, but not the least trace of anything deeper. Fun, without the challenge. “You didn’t lose to anyone, Shawn. You’re not my second choice. Yeah, Greg’s amazing at what he does, and Lind is sweet in a whole other way. I’m here with you because you’re exactly what I need. You can be what they can’t. When this year is over, I’m going to do exactly what you said. I’m going to scatter myself to the stars. You don’t expect anything at the end of the year. They aren’t better for me. Exactly the opposite. They’ll weigh me down.”
Shawn chewed on that, trying to figure out how being less perfect for her could result in the opposite. “I can’t figure you out.”
Dianne patted him on the legs, “You could if you wanted. But you have to embrace the fact that I’m completely out of my mind.” She flashed a wry grin. “I think this might be about something else.”
Shawn’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that letter sitting on your mantle with the name ‘Rachel’ on it? This isn’t about me. The end of the year is coming for you as well. I think you are hoping to connect with some new flame already out there. I’d bet you’re even asking to be posted to her ship, aren’t you? You’re feeling guilty about playing around with me while you plan to get with her. Is that it?”
Shawn’s eyes shifted away.
Dianne grinned brightly, “That is it!” A giggle rippled out of her before she could fight it off. “Which ship?”
Shawn scowled, “ASV Trumpet – No, I mean, not that I know. Or, not yet. Whatever.” He waved vaguely at the letter, “She was in her fourth form and graduated last year. We kept in touch. She…well, you know captains are already starting to look over our files, right? Well, she’s managed to put in a good word for me. I might easily end up on her ship if I play my cards right. So…”
Dianne was truly amused, “…so, I guess I had good timing when I dragged you into bed after she left. Hopefully, you didn’t let her go without showing her what you could do with that mouth of yours. No, wait, what am I saying? That’s probably why she’s trying so hard to get you to her ship.”
Shawn’s jaw dropped in scandalized shock.
Dianne giggled again. “I’m lying on you naked, and I can still make you blush like that. You’re cute, lover. So what did ‘Rachel’ have to say?”
Shawn shrugged. “Just talking.” He grew a little quieter. Not serious, but whispering as if he was afraid someone would overhear. “She mentioned…you know…the test.”
Dianne’s head popped up, “Whoa! What? Are you kidding me? She actually said ‘Final Test’, just like that?”
“Well, no -”
“Cause, damn, Shawn, they’d cashier her for letting anything slip about that! Well, that’s a rumor, too. What I mean is everything around this damned test is a rumor. Supposedly the Navy has no sense of humor about anyone screwing with it. If you let the cat out of the bag, you’re done. Honor of the service, and all that.”
“I know, I know. Maybe I was misreading it.”
“Sure. And she just happened to use an ink pen and real paper and send you the note by the least advanced method known to man which just happens to be immune to any sort of search engines which might pick up on what you two are talking about, right? You know, they’d toss you out just for having that letter?” She paused awkwardly, holding off her curiosity for as long as she could. It took about five seconds. “Now… what did she say?”
“We worked out a double-code system w
here she buried the message in the text with a cypher. She can only send simple messages given how complex the code is without writing hundreds of pages of text. Plus, she might be afraid to say too much. She only said the ‘FT was HTH.’ Could mean anything, but the FT almost has to mean Final test. Maybe it isn’t so mysterious. Maybe it’s just a part of the upcoming Trip-E. You know, a hard part they don’t tell us about.”
“No way. Nothing simple like that would be ‘Harder than hell’.” Dianne whistled. “Yup, I think that is what she meant.”
“How’d you figure that?”
“Trust me. You’re talking about Rachel Storme, here.”
Shawn’s jaw dropped open again.
Dianne rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Wasn’t that hard to guess. I wasn’t blind all last year. You like strong women.”
“I do?”
“You like me, right?” She hummed in anticipation and pushed his legs out a little, opening the space between. “If someone as impressive as Rachel Storme found this ‘Final Test’ hard, so hard that she felt the need to warn us lesser mortals following in her wake, then it must be grueling.”
Stan shivered. “Stuff of nightmares.”
Dianne smiled in excitement, not fear. “Stuff of legends. I always did like a challenge.” She leaned in a little closer, her lips letting her breath spill over some of his most sensitive spots. “Now, we have to switch topics before we both get tossed out on our ear. We have the rest of our fourth year to worry about this thing, right? So, let’s forget about it for now. We have better things to focus on. For instance, let’s see if I can’t out-do you with my mouth.”
She sank down, lips parting, and Shawn quickly forgot about anything else for a while.
Chapter 6
The Agent appeared at the electronic infiltration station. “Status?”
His expert was too professional to express his frustration outright. He phrased his response carefully. “The protections on the Academy’s deeper systems are impressive. I can break in, given time, but they’d see me do it.”
The Agent’s reply was chill. “You’ve had a year. Your predecessor had a year before I decided his skill was insufficient. It is time you were reassigned as well?”
Fear clenched his expert’s heart. Failure on this level of assignment would end his career as a TSU asset. He could only hope he didn’t know enough to be dangerous enough to be more permanently disposed. “Maybe I just need more time. But we have some access. Enough to influence a few Trip-E groups.”
Calculations ran behind the Agent’s eyes. “We need more. We need variants. We cannot penetrate a single database and rely on the same trick for all of them. There are 96 cadets remaining in this class, and they cannot all falter in the same fashion.”
A chime sounded on his wrist interface. The voice of his secretary entered the space. “Commander Ryan to see you, Sir.”
He acknowledged the call, speaking through the interface, “I’ll be out presently.” Closing the circuit, he directed a deceptively calm order at the seated technician. “Find a way to make progress.”
Leaving the expert to contemplate what failure would mean, the Agent stepped through a half-hidden door into a private room. He spent a moment donning the uniform jacket of his public character, then he passed through a different door into his Academy office. His hand touched on the desk console. “Send in the Commander.”
His outer office door parted. Arienne Ryan strode in, doing her best to hide her confusion. She came to an easy sort of parade rest an arm’s length from the heavy desk which separated them. “Reporting as ordered, Admiral.”
With a simple force of will, the Agent assumed his cover identity. His facial mannerisms relaxed into the paternal expression of ‘Rear-Admiral Kent Chamberlin’, the officer in command of Sanctuary’s orbital defenses. Most times, the post was a mild nuisance that took little of his time. The world on which the Alliance had located the Navy’s Academy was hardly in persistent danger. Still, the role had proven useful in delaying emergency responses when, two years past, the rogue cadets had tried to make good their escape. If not for the heroics of the class he was currently trying to ruin, the plan would have succeeded, and the reputation of the Academy might have been tarnished or even broken beyond repair.
His uniform was an irony, wearing the Alliance’s blue-on-blue pattern even as he sought to undermine their future. The real Kent Chamberlin had never reported for duty to the Academy eight years ago. He had been isolated in the Trinity system on the semi-frozen world of Pantera so that the Agent could take his place. Forged imagery and counterfeit biometrics had finished the task of faking Chamberlin’s identity.
Ryan would also know him as the senior serving Trinitian officer at the Academy. That would mean something to her, even without knowing what he really was. Especially since he had just nudged her into a more senior position, marking himself as a benefactor for her career.
He lowered himself into his chair, gesturing for her to take a seat as well. “How are you enjoying your new position?”
Ryan placed her legs precisely and perched on the edge of her chair cautiously, as if ready to flee. “Very well, Sir. I appreciate you pushing the approval through the system.”
“You must enjoy variety. Three transfers in three years. First becoming a second-year curriculum developer, then a third-year flight instructor, and now a fourth-year performance assessor.”
She admitted, still unsure of his meaning, “I enjoy diversity.”
“Diversity of assignments, but not faces?” He headed off any questions with the comment, “You’ve tracked a single class through its time inside the Gate. I might guess that you’ve taken them under your wing.”
With any other superior, Ryan would have denied the implication. But the Admiral was a Trinitian, and it was no dishonor to look after one’s own. “I have found a few of our kind with real talent among their ranks. I saw it as my duty to shepherd them along.”
Kent rewarded her with a kind smile. “Your dedication does you credit. But I have orders from home, and we are about to enter a difficult time. I have been directed to create a scandal amidst the class, causing many of the top recruits to suffer a humiliation, a failure that will reflect poorly on them and this whole institution.” He leaned on the word directed, implying the instructions came from an authority who had no need to explain itself. Anyone from Trinity would quickly winnow down who might give an Admiral such orders and realize how impossible such orders would be to refuse.
Ryan was certainly puzzled. “Why now? Why them?”
The Agent knew she couldn’t see the whole plan. She couldn’t know that he had been trying to discredit every class for the last eight years to some extent. When this class had stopped the rogue cadets in their first year, they had become marked. They needed to fall equally far. He couldn’t let them graduate as heroes. For now, it was safer for Ryan to believe something else. “There is concern from back home that our Trinitian crop is looking pale next to some of the class leaders.”
Ryan smiled briefly, but carefully. “I’m glad to hear we are willing to act in favor of our people, though there is a lot of risk.”
Kent accepted her arguments calmly, as would a mentor in this role. “What we need to show is that the Academy’s processes are flawed. That the pride of their best class was permitted to slide through without proper supervision. I am in the process of creating evidence that will prove that the Academy instructors ignored those weaknesses until they were out beyond the Academy walls where such character flaws could not be disguised. That said, we can certainly leave any Trinitian who has shown promise and loyalty untouched. Indeed, to make this all play out, we may even need their help.”
Light dawned in Ryan’s mind. “You’re going to subvert the Trip-E.”
The Admiral nodded. “These deployed assignments carry enough weight and exposure to potential danger to cause lasting impressions. I will handle documents alteration and placement of illicit materials
needed for these subversions, but my personal staff cannot be everywhere at once. Certainly, not without suspicion. So, we will generate the strife within the class itself.”
“If it goes poorly?”
Kent bowed his head, pretending to empathize with the painful prospect of failure. “Then we would lose some of our own. Tests are a part of our lives. Your Trinitian students must now face their own. If they succeed smoothly, then no one will know they were involved. Their rivals will be discredited, a worthy enough reward. If they fail, they will suffer the consequences. You will ensure it will not be traced back to us.”
Ryan didn’t need to ask. She knew why the Admiral had not called the students in here on his own authority. He ordered her. She would order them. Cut-outs. A scapegoat to sacrifice if the wind changed. “Aye aye, Sir.”
Kent assumed that paternal look again. “I will be in contact about the specific requirements. Place your best among the Trip-E assignments we will corrupt. Do not waste this on those you don’t trust. Much will depend on them. Their risk will be great, but so will the reward. This is a task for the most loyal, not the least. Understand?”
“Aye aye, Sir.”
“Good. Dismissed.” The Admiral waited until Ryan rose and left, and then the Agent returned. His face lost its humanity as he paced back into the hidden cluster of TSU work spaces.
He was met by a commotion at the central computer server. His computer expert was flustered, hands darting from panel to panel as if fighting a small war. Two other analysts had joined him and were now frantically engaged in the same fight.
The Agent approached. “Is there a problem?”
His expert never had time to answer. The central screen flickered once, then solidified into the stern, controlled face of Glen Sanders. Satisfaction creased his lips. “Ah, there you are.”
The Agent stormed up to the computer expert. “Kill that feed now!”
Glen deflected their conversation, “Being on your screen is hardly the full extent of my incursion into your system.” He tapped a few buttons off-screen, then outlined his own face with security camera feeds. Some were from within the Agent’s own nest of rooms. Others, from the outer offices of his Admiral identity. They clearly linked his public and private personae, revealing a man with at least two lives. “If we stop talking now, then you would leave me no choice but to find someone else to talk to. Given that I’m currently dead, I would have to provide extremely valuable information to stay out of prison. This seems like a good start.”
Of Bravery and Bluster Page 5