A Vow to Sophia

by John Bowers

  When Johnny had left, Osato sat back and swiveled his chair to face the major.

  "Is something on your mind, Major Dunn?"

  Dunn looked genuinely confused.

  "General, you just let Lincoln walk out of here without even a reprimand. I don't understand."

  "What you don't understand, Major, is our mission here, or our duty. What Lincoln did yesterday is called defending the planet. It's what you should have done, but you didn't.

  "I've been watching your squadron for some months now, and it's an embarrassment to the entire Fighter Service. It isn't your pilots' fault; as Lincoln said, they want to fight. But they have to follow orders. Your orders, Major, have been benign to say the least. So far you've managed to avoid combat every time it came along. It isn't just bad luck, it's bad leadership."

  "But — but Lincoln disobeyed a direct order! You can't overlook that!"

  "No, I can't. It's going into his service record, and if he ever does it again he'll answer for it. But you, Major, are a different story. As of right now, you are relieved of command of the 213. I think we can find a place for you elsewhere, maybe a training slot. Captain Walters will take over as CO."

  Dunn's jaw hung open and he sputtered, but nothing came out. Osato didn't wait for him to find his voice.

  "That will be all, Major."

  Thursday, 19 July, 0221 (PCC) — Asteroid Base 131, Solar System

  For a moment after Onja woke, she didn't know where she was. The smell of male cologne brought it all back, and she turned on her side to reach for Landon. He wasn't there.

  She sat up and blinked, rubbing a hand over her eyes. The quarters were tight, a single small room with fold-up double bunks, a wardrobe, and a door leading into the head. Landon's side of the bunk had been folded into the wall.

  Onja checked her wristwatch — it was almost 0700. The mess hall would be open for another hour, and then she had duty. She dropped her head back onto the pillow, staring at the overhead. Her body was sore, she realized, and not just from combat. The forces she'd endured last night were far more stressful than the G's she'd pulled during the battle.

  Oddly, for the first time she could remember, she felt content.

  The door to the head opened and Landon stepped out. He was only partially dressed, his hair still damp from the water shower. He pulled an undershirt over his head and stood looking at her. She gazed back.

  "How do you feel?" he asked quietly.

  "Probably the same way you do." Her lips curved into a half smile.

  "That was a bad idea, Onja."

  "No, Major, it wasn't."

  "This can't happen again."

  "It has to happen again."

  "You're not listening to me."

  She sat up, letting the sheet fall away. "You're not listening to me," she said.

  He sat down on the corner of the rack.

  "Look, on August 9 I'll be thirty-nine years old."

  "Really? We have the same birthday."

  That distracted him for a moment, but he shook it off.

  "I'm twenty years older than you are!"

  "Why does that bother you? It doesn't bother me."

  "I feel like a pervert!"

  "You liked it, didn't you? I know you liked it."

  "Hell, who wouldn't have liked it? That has nothing to do with it!"

  "It has everything to do with it." She leaned forward and kissed him, her hand cradling the back of his head. "You did it, Major. You put out my fires last night."

  He shook his head obstinately. "Damn it, I'm your commanding officer!"

  "And commanding officers don't need sex? Come on, Major, you're not that old!" Her eyes teased him.

  "Of course they need sex," he sputtered. "But it would be more appropriate if you were closer to my own age."

  "But I'm not, so what can we do about it? Who makes these rules, Major? Is there some government agency that sets age limits on desire? Last night was the first time in my life that I ever really wanted a man. And you were the one I wanted. Doesn't that count for anything?"

  He waved a hand helplessly. "I don't know!"

  "What's really bothering you? Are you afraid of what the other COs will think? Afraid of what your squadron will say? They have their own women; why should they care?"

  "I'm going to be accused of favoritism, don't you see that? First, I overrule Hinds when he won't let you fight, then I take you as my own gunner, and now I'm sleeping with you. That's going to stand out like a stripper in a convent."

  "Rank has its privileges."

  "Maybe, but I don't need a morale problem here."

  "What about my morale? What about yours?" She hopped out of bed and stood facing him, hands on her hips. "Let's be honest about this. You like me, don't you? My personality, I mean. We get along, don't we?"

  "Until last night our relationship was purely professional, so I can't really answer that."

  "But last night — it was good, right? You don't regret it?"

  "I do regret it."

  "But for the wrong reasons. It was still good, wasn't it?"

  He looked up into her wide blue eyes and nodded slowly.

  "Last night," he said slowly, "was …" He groped for words. "… unbelievable!"

  "Then tonight can be unbelievable, too. And tomorrow night, and as many nights as we have left."

  He shook his head, fighting the suggestion.

  "You can't move in here," he said.

  "Every other gunner lives with her pilot, if she has one. Why can't I?"

  "Because you're not my gunner. That was a temporary …"

  "Not any more," she interrupted. "I killed eleven Sirians yesterday, Major. You want me back out there, don't you? And I want to go back out there. I need a pilot, and now I've got one."

  "I don't fly that often …"

  "You're going to start. You're the CO of this squadron. You can fly whenever you want."

  "I'm also running the Wing," he pointed out. "That takes up a lot of my time."

  "Run it from your cockpit. If we don't keep the Sirians away from this base, the Wing will cease to exist. Stop fighting this, Major. You want me as much as I want you. I know you do."

  He stared at her again, and she saw the hunger in his eyes. Abruptly, she sat down next to him.

  "I know you do," she repeated. "Admit it."

  He shook his head slowly. "It was a mistake to ever let women into combat squadrons," he said.

  "What?"

  "Women can't take orders worth a damn. Instead, they're always giving them."

  "I can take orders." She smiled her half smile. "When I want to."

  Chapter 17

  July-August, 0221 (PCC) — Asteroid Base 131, Solar System

  Through the rest of July, Landon led three patrols each week, Onja riding watchfully in his turret. No contact was made by any patrol, but that only served to make Landon edgy — the loss of what must have been nearly a full squadron should not have caused the Sirians to back off, given their aggressive nature. Could they be watching his patrols without revealing themselves, hiding behind whatever cloaking technology they were using? Could they have they already pinpointed the asteroid base, and be making plans to neutralize it? The Ladar Tank displayed no reduction in passive contacts, so they were still out there.

  It was enough to keep him awake at night.

  Another supply ship slipped through on 2 August, replenishing his stores; this time six fighters were included in the delivery, sans crews, towed by remote control through the Asteroid Belt. He now had twenty-seven fighters. Still not enough, but every little bit helped.

  Saturday, 4 August, 0221 (PCC) — Asteroid Base 131, Solar System

  Two days later, nine Sirians jumped Landon's patrol of five. Once again they failed to appear on passive Ladar. The action was short and vicious — one Fed fighter was damaged, but five Sirians were destroyed. Onja killed four of them.

  * * *

  After the debrief, Onja returned to quarters
with Landon. She was mentally exhausted, but her body wouldn't relax. The minute the door to their quarters closed, she seized Landon like a hypercat, locking onto his mouth and pulling him down onto her rack. After a breathless moment he managed to pull free.

  "Christ, Onja! Let me shower first! I smell like a goat."

  "I don't care. I need you now, Major! Right now!"

  She ripped at his flight suit, trying to strip him while still kissing him feverishly. He pulled loose again.

  "Goddamn! What is it about combat? You get crazy!"

  "I don't know. Just don't make me wait."

  "It's like an aphrodisiac!"

  "It's worse."

  She struggled out of her clothing and helped him peel off his own. As soon as he was nude she was all over him, giving him no time to protest. He didn't try to resist, and for the next few minutes they had no time for conversation. She forced him onto his back, straddled him, and did all the work. He lay watching her, eyes glazed, his body reacting to her stresses. Suddenly she stiffened, her body shuddered helplessly, and she uttered a howl of ecstasy almost animal in its intensity. Landon waited until the tension bled out of her body, then rolled her over and completed his own climax. Onja lay wasted under him, eyes closed, mouth open, sucking oxygen and moaning.

  Landon collapsed on top of her, sweat sheening his body, his head drooping over her shoulder. Onja's fingers laced through his hair, her lips found his ear. He moaned like a dying man, his lungs heaving.

  "Major …" Onja murmured. "I love you, Major."

  For a moment, as if he hadn't heard, Landon didn't move. Then, slowly, he lifted himself onto his elbows, his face inches from hers. She opened her eyes and gazed into his.

  "I love you," she repeated.

  Landon blinked in confusion, his expression troubled. His tongue slid unconsciously across his lips.

  "How can you possibly know?" he asked in a voice so hoarse it croaked. "It's only been a couple of weeks."

  "It's been longer than that." She stroked his head, enjoying the feel of him, savoring the weight of his body on hers. "I've known you almost two months. You're a good man, Major."

  Landon pushed himself up and disengaged from her. He sat on the edge of the rack and stared at the bulkhead, as if she'd somehow offended him. Onja sat up, reached for him, and laid an arm across his shoulder. Her lips found the side of his head, but she didn't speak, giving him time to respond.

  "How can you possibly know?" he said again. "Love is a lot more than just … just sex."

  She touched his chin, turning him to face her.

  "Because I'm still eighteen, you think I don't know what love is?" she asked. "You think I'm just an empty-headed kid?"

  "No." He shook his head with a frown. "Not that, but — there's a maturity factor, Onja. Girls your age, sometimes … well, they get stars in their eyes. I don't want … "

  "Major! Look at me. Look at me."

  He met her intense blue eyes, conflict in his own.

  "Tell me what you feel when you look at me," she said. "I want to know exactly what you feel."

  "Look, Onja, I just think …"

  "I didn't ask what you think! Tell me what you feel."

  He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and looked away.

  "What the hell am I supposed to feel? Looking at you would drive any man up the wall. In fact … I shouldn't tell you this, but you're the most lusted-after woman on this rock."

  "I know that."

  He met her eyes again. "You do?"

  "That's the story of my life. My Vegan heritage is also my greatest curse. Men have been chasing me since before I was old enough to know why."

  He nodded. "Well, there you go. I'm no different than any other man. I just happened to be lucky enough that you picked me."

  "Are you glad I did?"

  He nodded. "I still feel guilty about it, but … yeah. I won't deny it."

  "All right, I'll ask you again. What do you feel?"

  He shrugged. "I have no right to feel anything."

  "Damn it, Major! Why won't you answer the fucking question? I don't care about your 'rights'! What do you feel?"

  He stared at her, torment in his eyes.

  "It doesn't make any sense," he said.

  "What doesn't?"

  "What I feel — it doesn't make any sense."

  Her expression softened. "You love me, too. Don't you?"

  He shook his head. "No. The first rule in a fighter squadron is, don't fall in love. I made that mistake once, years ago. It was a hard lesson."

  "What happened?"

  "She requested a transfer. I never saw her again."

  Onja sighed wearily, watching his eyes. He hadn't really answered her question yet. But she didn't believe he cared nothing for her.

  "Okay, you think about it. When you feel comfortable, you can tell me the truth."

  He stood up slowly and turned for the shower. He stopped and looked back.

  "Why would you want to fall in love with a man my age?" he asked. "I don't understand that."

  "I didn't fall in love with you. I just started loving you. I admire you, Major. Like I said, you're a good man. A fair and decent man. That's the most important thing to me."

  He stood in silence for half a minute, looking lost, a sad expression on his face. Onja sat watching him, her heart filled with hope. Finally he made eye contact with her again.

  "I can't afford to fall in love with you," he said quietly. "A commanding officer and a rookie gunner? That's completely crazy."

  She remained silent, watching his eyes as they roamed her body. A moment later they reached her eyes again, and she wanted to cry when she saw the hopelessness in them.

  "The trouble is," he said, "I already have."

  Sunday, 5 August, 0221 (PCC) — Asteroid Base 131, Solar System

  Landon was already gone when Onja woke the next morning. She had two hours before duty so, stiff and sore from the events of the previous day, she grabbed a towel and set off for the recreation level. AB-131 boasted few luxuries, but among them were a gymnasium and a sauna. Onja especially appreciated the latter — it reminded her of Norway.

  The sauna was empty when she arrived, but someone had been there recently and the room was still hot. She stowed her fatigues in a locker and entered the tiny room completely nude. She dropped the towel onto the wooden bench and settled onto it, leaning back gingerly against the boards until her skin could tolerate the scorching dry heat. Breathing deeply, she closed her eyes and sighed, feeling her muscles begin to relax. It was good to be completely alone for a while.

  Her body was streaming sweat when, ten minutes later, the door opened and someone else entered. The new arrival settled heavily onto the bench, and from the way the bench sagged, she knew it was a man. She wasn't concerned — modesty wasn't an issue among combat crews, and this was officers' country.

  "Damned good shooting, Lieutenant."

  Onja's eyes sprang open. Capt. Hinds was studying her with more than passing interest, and as he was also nude, it was instantly obvious he was pleased with what he saw. She made no reply, but felt her heart accelerate; the way he was looking at her made her skin crawl.

  "Have you given any thought to what we talked about before?" he asked. "About flying my back seat?"

  "No."

  "Well, the offer is still open. Poor Pam is showing signs of deep space combat stress, and I'm gonna need a replacement pretty soon. I don't know how much more she can take."

  "Asked and answered, Captain."

  "Look, I admit I was hard on you in the beginning. But look at it from my perspective — you can understand why I was concerned, can't you?"

  She turned her full gaze on him.

  "No, I can't."

  "Nobody ever scored a Perfect, Onja. Nobody."

  "I did."

  "Sure, I can believe that now. But anyone would've been skeptical at first."

  "Major Landon believed me."

  "No he didn't
."

  "He let me fly with him. He gave me a chance to prove myself. You promised me I'd never fly as long as you had any say."

  Hinds spread his hands.

  "I was wrong. Okay? I admit it. But you're an ambitious girl. You have a killer instinct, and so do I. You and I could go far together. We could kill a lot of the enemy and advance in the service beyond your wildest dreams."

  "I came here to kill Sirians," she said, "not to get promoted. Besides, after you advance a couple more grades you wouldn't need me any more. Where would I be then?"

  He shrugged. "That wouldn't happen for years. You'd be tired of fighting by then, looking forward to a safer job. You'd have rank and reputation, you could write your own ticket." He managed a grin. "So what do you say?"

  She pinned him with her cold stare again and shook her head. "Make it on your own, Captain. I don't need you."

  "You could be wrong about that."

  "I don't think so."

  Hinds leaned against her and reached across, his left hand gripping her right breast firmly.

  "Give me a chance to persuade you," he said. "My gunners don't complain about sexual frustration. I've got what it takes."

  Onja could see what he had, because it was throbbing only inches from her golden crotch. She felt a surge of anger.

  "Take your hand off me, Captain! I'm not a whore."

  He slid his other arm across her shoulders and cupped her head in splayed fingers, his mustache brushing her cheek in a light kiss. He was a big man, taller and heavier than Landon. Onja felt panic rising in her chest.

  "I can change your mind, Lieutenant," he offered. "If you're not fully satisfied…"

  Onja lost it. With a sharp scream she slapped him hard, jerked sideways to break his hold, and lunged against the wall.

  "Get away from me, you fucking pervert!" she cried.

  Hinds looked stunned. "Hey, come on! I just …"

  "If you touch me again, I'll kill you!"

  His face flushed red, his eyes narrowed dangerously. He planted himself two feet in front of her, sweat flowing freely down his body.

  "You goddamn little tease! All I said was …"

  "You were trying to fuck me! Well, forget it! You'll have to kill me first!"

  Hinds trembled with anger, but tried to regain control of the situation.

  "Don't you think you're overreacting? Hasn't anybody ever made a pass at you before?"