Star Crossed

by C. Gockel

  “So far this hasn’t been a real friendly neighborhood. If we could see around the corners—” Sara felt something…click in head. Turn the key. She remembered the outpost planets, winding through the galaxy like a figure eight. Was that what they did? Extend the view? She felt a warm hand cover hers and with a blink returned to the cafeteria.

  “Hello?”

  “Sorry, just remembered something.” She looked down at his hand, a bit puzzled by the sight. “The Dusan aren’t good fighters, but they’re like roaches. You step on one and twenty more pop out of the woodwork.”

  “But we beat them.”

  He started to rub his thumb along the side of her wrist.

  Sara looked at him, then carefully took back her hand. She wasn’t ready for that yet. She smiled to soften her withdrawal. “I have to go. I’m on duty in six. Thanks for the cuppa.”

  He stood up and walked with her out into the corridor. “Can I walk you to your quarters?”

  She half smiled and shook her head. Somehow, she wasn’t quite sure how he managed it, he got her semi-trapped against the wall, one arm propped on the wall by her head, the angle of his body encouraging her to stay. There was a way out, though. It wasn’t icky.

  He touched her face lightly with his finger. “We could walk to my quarters.”

  Sara just looked at him, one brow lifted. He grinned.

  “I know, I’m being pushy, but you’re not an easy bubba to get close to. In fact, you’re very elusive.”

  Sara felt color creep into her cheeks. “Let me guess, the video has made it aboard the Patton.”

  He kind of nodded and grinned. “But even without it, I’d still be interested. I’ve always had a weakness for redheads.”

  “And blondes and brunettes?”

  “I have a deep appreciation for the female form.”

  His smile robbed his words of offense, though Sara thought it wouldn’t hurt him to be taken down a bit.

  “I’ll bet you do.” And they probably had a lot of appreciation for him. He was a good-looking guy. Sara fingered the lapel of his uniform. “Perhaps a cold shower would help you manage that appreciation?”

  She grinned at him.

  He chuckled. “I’m sure it would.” He sighed and stepped back. “I see that what they say about you is true.”

  Sara stiffened and looked down. “And what’s that?”

  He leaned in again. “That you’re a class act.”

  Her eyes widened and she looked up, with a sudden smile. He bent his head, but she turned so that his mouth just grazed her cheek. The feel of his mouth wasn’t awful and he smelled good. She put her hand against his chest and he backed off.

  “I’d like to do this again sometime soon?”

  Sara smiled. “I might be open to having another cuppa with you sometime.”

  “And what would I have to do to turn might into yes?”

  “Letting me get some sleep would be a good start.”

  He chuckled and this time he stepped back, gesturing for her to pass.

  “Whatever it takes.”

  His mouth smiled, but there was a look in his eyes that was a bit unsettling. He almost looked like he meant it. That he wasn’t just passing time.

  Sara felt a quiver of excitement as she read the orders in her email the next morning. They were to report for a briefing before going on duty. A briefing meant a change. When she entered the briefing room, the first person she saw was Hawkins. He waved at her, pointing to the empty seat next to him. Sara hesitated a half beat before sliding into it.

  “Morning.” She gave him a quick, shy smile. “You up to speed?”

  “Heard they’re going to launch some recon missions.” He grinned. “Movement.”

  “Sweet.” Movement meant flying. Sara loved flying more than she liked breathing.

  Carey called for attention and confirmed the scuttlebutt. Three sections of two birds, one from each ship, were going to make hops—hyper-jumps—to three positions outside sensor range with their feelers out, then jump back. The short hops were prelims to longer hops—if all went well.

  “Since our people have engaged the enemy, they’ll be lead with the wingmen coming from the Patton. Follow your orders, stay sharp and come home to mother. We’ve been lucky so far. Let’s keep it that way.”

  He looked down at a sheet. “Donovan, you and Hawkins are taking the KILO X-RAY hop.” He named the other two teams and their hops. “The data is being uploaded to onboard computers right now. Should be a no-brainer.”

  Sara looked at Hawkins, wondering how he felt about being her wingman. He grinned.

  “They had you assigned to Reams, but I called in a few favors.”

  At least he wasn’t afraid to follow a girl. Course, if he knew everything that had happened, he might not be smiling so wide. Considering everything, Sara was surprised she’d made the list at all, but maybe they weren’t as worried about her since she’d died. Twice.

  “I picked up your bat decoder for you.” He handed her the sheet.

  “Thanks.” Sara looked down at the mission codes. A glance and she had them memorized. She folded it and tucked it in a pocket of her zoombag.

  “Let’s kick the tires and light the fires.” Hawkins grinned at her. It was cute in a non-Fyn kind of way.

  Sara grinned back, his excitement igniting her own. This is what they’d come for, after all. Sara settled into her bird and did her pre-flight. She was ready before anyone else and itching to get out there. It felt like her bird was as eager as she was. Don’t try any crap, she told Ruby. No side trips to the city or I’ll be grounded forever. She got the signal to go. She eased clear of her berth, then punched it. Her bird knew the way out. Once clear of the bay, she kicked it into high and her speedjeans inflated, as she did a couple of tight turns, pushing as many g’s as she dared while she waited for Hawkins to come play.

  “Settle down, kilo.” Carey sounded amused.

  She “settled” and Hawkins aka Zoomer, pulled in on her six. She put up the HUD and looked at the computer data for the hop. Looked like they were sending them outside the range of the city’s tracking, too. Sweet.

  “You have a go, kilo x-ray. Fangs and feelers out and come home to mother.”

  “Roger that, home plate.” Sara did a last check. “You ready, xray?”

  “Was born ready, kilo.”

  Sara executed the program, letting the computer take charge for the hop. It almost felt like her bird bunched, then leapt forward. Space stretched and thinned on either side. It was a bit like fireworks, only without the pretty colors. It reminded her of her first jump to Saturn. She’d forgotten what a kick it was. Hyperspace travel in a larger ship lacked the personal touch. You hardly felt it. This was flying.

  The jump lasted as long as it was supposed to, then a light flashed, warning her that the end point was close. This was the tricky part. Since they’d jumped out of sensor range, they didn’t know what was out there, other than some planets and moons and other space crap. Deceleration was a jolt in the other direction. The first time she’d gone through it, she thought her lungs were being pushed out her nose. Now she knew it just felt like that. Her lungs stayed where they were. Sara had the stick ready as she dropped into normal space. Collision warnings blared as soon as her sensors came back online, but Sara didn’t need them or the HUD to tell her she had a problem.

  She could see the big ass ship out her front window.

  She pulled up hard, kicking it into a high, very tight bat turn.

  “Xray, break hard right! Bogey, I repeat, we got a big bogey in the hop door!”

  She passed so close to the ship, she might have left a black streak along it. As she went up and over the top, she saw two more of them. Her tracking lit up like a carnival ride. Tiny dots were flooding out of the big ass dots. The only bright spot, the ships didn’t seem to be Dusan.

  Sara jinked her bird, trying to get turned around for an immediate return, while not hitting any bogeys. She was already men
tally cueing up the data as Hawkins dropped into the bogey’s hawk circle. Her sensors were going nuts with all the data, but it was going to take some fancy flying to get back and report any of it.

  “Get turned,” she ordered, “we’re leaving this playground.”

  So far no one had fired on them.

  That was good.

  They were trying to contain and trap them.

  That was bad.

  Sara jinked every direction she could, trying to get through their fighter screen. She could have got out and walked on them, their ships were so thick and close. She saw a hole and headed for it—but saw Hawkins get penned in on the HUD.

  “Get the hell out of here!” Hawkins yelled, slamming on his space brakes.

  Sara hit her brakes, letting the bandits trap her, too.

  “Damn it—”

  “And let you have all the fun? I don’t think so.”

  There was a pause as they both assessed the situation.

  “You been in worse, right?” His voice was calm and unworried.

  She could imagine him doing what she was doing—looking at the circling ships and wondering what happened next.

  “Actually I have.” It was depressing to realize that so far this was still a step up from her last encounter with ET.

  It was a relief to be back aboard the Doolittle. Fyn looked around. It felt like coming home—something he hadn’t had in a long time. It had taken him a long time to walk away from Fiona. He kept thinking if he could just talk to her once, maybe he could make a difference, break through whatever it was that wouldn’t let her go. When he’d lost her, he’d promised to get her back or at least avenge her death. Now she was free and all she wanted was to go back to them to him. Finally the doc, what Sara called a shrink, advised him to give it up. She’d been with the Dusan longer than she’d been bond mate to him. It was going to take years to undo what they did to her.

  It made no sense, but he hadn’t gone through what she had. Whatever had happened—and he’d seen the horror in Sara’s eyes—must have been bad, so, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t judge her. All he could do was let her go, let her be. He felt guilty, but relieved. The past eight years had changed him, too—and not all for the good.

  Carey was in tracking, watching some screens. He saw Fyn and gave him a friendly wave.

  “What are we looking at?” It looked like a blank radar screen.

  “We got some people out doing recon. We’re waiting for them to come back.”

  “Recon?”

  “Just some short hops. Two birds each with feelers out.”

  A young soldier wearing a headset watched some kind of sensor, almost without blinking. “KILO X-RAY is over due, sir.”

  Carey frowned. “That’s Donovan and Hawkins.”

  Fyn felt his insides jerk. “Where did they go?”

  Carey pulled it up on the display. “There.”

  “That’s technically Gadi territory, but they aren’t usually out this far. Shouldn’t have been a problem.”

  Unless the Ojemba were operating there. Kalian liked to keep moving around.

  “How long are they over due now?” Carey asked.

  “Five minutes.”

  “Damn.” Carey looked at Fyn. “Old Man is gonna kill me. I’m the one that talked him into letting her try the hop.”

  “She’s a good pilot,” Fyn said. And she would have wanted to go, no matter what. “Who’s Hawkins?”

  “Pilot from the Patton. Their top gun. He asked to go out with Donovan.” He sighed. “Guess I’d better brief the Old Man.”

  After a short period of circling, the ships began to try to nudge them in the direction of one of the mother ships. Sara had played chicken before. She didn’t budge, even when the other ship was pointy end to pointy end with her. She could see the other pilot, but it didn’t tell her a whole lot. He was as geared up as she was, though his was…prettier. His ship was pretty, too. Looked like something from an over-the-top sci-fi movie. There was another period of inactivity—most likely a consultation. Finally her incoming transmission beacon began to flash. She had a feeling it wasn’t home plate calling. Sara took the call. It seemed the only way to end the stalemate.

  “Unknown vessels. We will not fire on you if you proceed to our landing bay. If you do not follow our escort vessels, we will fire on you.”

  The voice had an almost courtly sound to it and a “please don’t make me fire on you,” undertone.

  “You hear that, x-ray?”

  “Maybe they want us to come for dinner.”

  “I’ve tried some of the food in this sector. We might be better off letting them shoot us.”

  Two ships moved in on each side, edging close enough to scratch her paint if she moved. They’d be bumping heads soon. Sara sighed.

  “I guess we suck it up and meet ET. I’ll follow you in.”

  The HUD showed him moving. The ships around her backed off a bit, when it became clear she was playing nice.

  Two of the ships rode her six all the way into the alien landing bay. She tempted to tap the brakes, just for the hell of it, but she didn’t. She could see Hawkins, already stable one, as she brought her bird down not far from his. The landing bay was as over-the-top as their birds. It had a grand hall feel about it, while still managing to be very efficient. It also thick with gomers holding weapons that reminded her of Fyn’s stuff. They were wearing uniforms similar to the one Adin had worn when he pretended to be Gadi, but with more flair. It was kind of funny that Adin couldn’t bring himself to put on the pretty for his masquerade as a Gadi.

  Sara pulled off her gloves, released her top hatch, then unhooked her harness. She pulled off her oxygen mask and undid the chinstrap of her helmet. She really didn’t want to take it off and go through the whole are-you-really-a-girl-soldier thing. With a sigh, she bent over, slipped it off, and set it on the floorboards between her booted feet. She pulled out her cap and as quickly as she could, she tucked her hair up in it, and then pulled the bill low over her eyes. Maybe they wouldn’t notice. She sat up, hooked her P-90 on its clip and stood up. The men around her bird, tensed, their weapons ready. It was kind of superfluous. From this vantage point, there looked to be about four hundred of the gun-pointing gomers. Hawkins looked at her, then pulled his cap on, too, before jumping down into the middle of the cluster around his bird.

  She stepped out on the wing, and jumped to the ground next to her bird, mentally locking it down—and doing the same to Hawkins bird. No reason to hand them over to ET. The tops hissed back in place, catching the attention of the only unarmed gomer she could see. He moved toward them, his people parting for him, and flowing in behind him, like they were the Red Sea and he was Moses. Two gomers marched on his heels, like aides or guards. It had a military precision to it, but also something extra.

  That feeling of being in a sci-fi parody got stronger.

  Now that she was face to face with them, she could tell they were different from the Dusan. The uniforms definitely had more dash, and lots more drama. There’d been a grim air about the Dusan garrison and the men manning it. No freedom in the air or in their eyes. This display of force had the feel of circumstance, even as the pomp approached Hawkins first. Sara came to attention, then went to at ease, her hands clasped behind her back. Hawkins followed her lead as the man, clearly their leader, walked up to him. His uniform was thick with gold stuff.

  He looked him up, then down, then turned and paced slowly around Hawkin’s bird.

  He was a tall man, as tall as Hawkins. He had thick, dark hair and a patrician look to his face and to his bearing. There was a definite flair to the way he studied them and in his controlled silence. Sara lifted her chin when it was her turn for scrutiny. Just as he did with Hawkins, he looked her up and down, then walked around her bird. The silence in the bay was absolute, except for the sound of his footfalls. After what seemed a long time, he walked back to Sara, stopping in front of her again. Sara stared straight ahead, her mouth a straight
line.

  Suddenly he reached out and plucked her cap off. As her hair tumbled free, there was a hiss from all the shocked, ET mouths. He held out her cap with a sharp movement. She took it and returned it to her head, carefully adjusting the brim before resuming her stance. Her jaw might have jutted a bit pugnaciously, because amusement warmed his eyes. Not a lot, but some. At least the gomer had a sense of humor.

  The silence was getting uncomfortable, but Sara was determined not to be the one to break it.

  “You flew this ship?” His voice was as elegant as his bearing and there was a hint of an accent that went well with the gold braid.

  Did he see anyone else who could have flown it?

  “You are a—woman.”

  Sara looked right at ET and blinked twice.

  His lips twitched slightly.

  “I have never seen—”

  “—a woman?” Sara arched her brows. “I’m surprised you recognized one then, specially one wearing a zoombag.”

  The zoombag hid the few assets Sara had.

  This time he permitted himself a small smile.

  “A woman dressed as a warrior.”

  Well, there was a shocker.

  His gaze swept her again, with a polite look of amazement. A very polite look of amazement.

  Maybe it would help if she kicked some ET ass. She looked around her. The four hundred plus weapons were still pointed at her. Probably be a better plan to let ET under estimate her.

  Fyn’s advice was still good. Don’t get shot.

  “How is this possible? A woman does not have the strength and agility to fly such a craft.”

  Sara’s eyes narrowed in warning, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “And yet, I must believe the evidence of my eyes. You flew this ship. And you flew it very well.” He looked at her. “You broke through our line. You could have escaped, but you didn’t.”

  She shrugged.

  He frowned. “He ordered you to leave? We began monitoring your transmissions as soon as you came out of hyperspace.”

  “That must have been interesting,” Sara said. “Is that why you decided not to open fire?”