Lost Alliance (Dragonfire Station Books 1-3): A Galactic Empire series

by Zen DiPietro

  Ross laughed. “Fair enough.”

  The two bantered throughout the meal, with Fallon commenting in the appropriate places, but mostly observing. She needed to work harder at adjusting her perception of Nevitt.

  As time wore on, fatigue settled over Fallon. She and the others had long since finished eating and simply remained, talking. She wanted some time to herself to think and realized that she needn’t stay. Ross was making a new friend, as she’d hoped. So she excused herself and returned to her quarters. The space seemed quiet without Peregrine, even though her partner wasn’t talkative in general. Her absence left a big hole, as did Hawk’s and Raptor’s. Without her team, Fallon felt incomplete.

  She sat in front of the voicecom, thinking of Wren. Had Fallon’s isolation from her team played a part in her relationship with her?

  Of course it had.

  She sat looking at the voicecom, wondering where Wren might be at that moment. But rather than call to find out, she opted to shower and get ready for bed. She couldn’t let Wren be a fallback for when her team wasn’t around. Fallon was too self-aware for that, and Wren deserved better.

  So she went to bed with her better judgment rather than with a soft, warm partner who understood her.

  18

  Coalescence Chapter 3

  When Fallon woke up the next day, her sense of isolation remained. She brushed it aside as she went through her daily routine as chief of security. Her morning check-in with Captain Nevitt now felt a little different, thanks to her shifting impressions of the woman. Otherwise, there was a coziness to her routine. Checking the security systems, looking over the night shift’s report, and noting the day’s arrivals and departures all felt comfortable and productive.

  Doing her afternoon rounds on the boardwalk particularly pleased her. Citizens of the station and familiar visitors greeted her warmly as she walked along. She enjoyed looking after the people of Dragonfire, and the station itself. She just plain liked the place. The bustle of activity, the variety of people. The sense of community made her feel more rooted than she ever had.

  Not that she’d ever minded being rootless. Her main focus had always been her job. She’d never needed or wanted roots.

  Bah. It was all much more introspective than she cared to be. She just wanted to get shit done, not waste time worrying about feelings.

  She quickened her step, only to notice Wren step out from behind a Rescan. She flashed Fallon a smile as she angled toward her. Wren had a nice walk. Smooth and rolling, with even steps that, if measured, would be the exact same distance every time. But with a slight side-to-side sway that caught the eye of several passersby.

  “Hi.” Wren smiled, her eyes sparkling with her particular brand of humor.

  “Hi.”

  “Are you avoiding me?” Wren gave her a teasing look.

  “No.” Fallon hadn’t sought Wren out, but she hadn’t avoided her either. “Why would I?”

  “Your team is gone and you haven’t looked me up. I thought you might, since we talked about it and decided to just see what happens.”

  Fallon didn’t know whether to be amused or disconcerted by Wren’s understanding of her quirks. “It seemed too complicated.”

  “It couldn’t be simpler, really,” Wren argued. She glanced around to see if their conversation might be overheard. She hitched her head toward the concourse and they began walking.

  Once they’d put some distance between them and the busiest part of Deck One, Wren continued, “You and I clearly aren’t over, though we’re no longer exclusive. There’s no reason we can’t see each other. Unless you’ve decided you’re uninterested, or that partner of yours would have a problem with it.”

  Did Wren know about her and Raptor? “Which partner?”

  Wren gave her a sidelong look of amusement. “I’ve seen you two together. I could practically see the sparks.”

  Fallon decided not to argue the point. She had nothing to hide about her relationship with Raptor. It predated her relationship with Wren by more than a decade. “When have you seen us together?”

  Wren shrugged. “A glimpse in the gym. A peek on the boardwalk. It doesn’t matter. The question is, have you two become an exclusive thing? I didn’t get that impression from you the last time we talked.”

  “No.”

  Another person would have asked for more details. A non-Sarkavian person would, anyway. But Wren nodded and pressed on. “So second question. Are you uninterested in me?”

  Wren stepped in front of Fallon, forcing her to stop and return her gaze.

  Wren was hard for Fallon to ignore on the best of days. Her willingness to face off and demand point-blank answers only made her more appealing. “No.”

  Wren smiled, and the distance between them decreased until it verged on the inappropriate-for-being-on-duty. Then she spun around and resumed walking. “Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

  Why was it that Fallon had no qualms about flying a ship right into a firefight, yet the thought of a meal with this woman made all of her mental alarms go off?

  No, she decided. No. “Yes.”

  Prelin’s ass. Fallon cursed herself for her habit of jumping off whatever cliff she happened to be standing on.

  “Good.” Wren smiled. “Pick me up at my quarters after your shift ends.”

  There were plenty of reasons to say no. But she didn’t want to.

  The doors to Wren’s quarters swished open. Fallon entered, refusing to be affected by the fact that this had been her home for six months. She didn’t look at the wall she’d thrown knives into, or the couch where they’d snuggled and watched holo-vids. The important thing to remember was that this place belonged only to Wren now.

  Wren led her to the living area. She wore a simple dress and Fallon hoped it indicated a casual evening with no expectations.

  Fallon had gone casual as well, hoping to send her own message. Cargo pants and a short-sleeved knit shirt seemed to her to be an entirely unromantic choice of clothing.

  “Have a seat wherever you like.” Wren gestured at the couch and chairs. “Would you like a drink?”

  “Zerellian ale, if you have it.” She didn’t sit. She stood behind the couch, running a hand over the synthetic suede fabric.

  Wren laughed lightly. “Of course I do.” She returned in less than a minute, offering a tall glass with a light froth on top.

  Fallon wasn’t sure how to feel about Wren’s ability to read and anticipate her so well. It made her feel unarmed.

  She noticed an enticing smell coming from the kitchenette. “Are we eating here?” She’d assumed they were going out.

  “Yes. I hope that’s okay. I figured we’d be talking about some things that we’d prefer other people not overhear.”

  “Must we? I was kind of hoping we could keep edging around each other, unsure of where we stand. So we could really prolong our awkwardness.”

  Wren laughed. “As fun as that is, I think the time has come to really talk, Em.” She sobered and corrected herself. “Fallon. I know you prefer Fallon now.”

  Fallon took a long drink before responding. “I do, but I don’t mind when people forget. I think of it as a nickname.”

  Wren stood behind the armchair, playing with the stem of her wine glass. “I guess names don’t much matter in what you do?”

  “So we’re jumping right in, then?” Fallon had expected a good deal of idle chitchat while the two tested waters before wading into deeper subjects.

  “Yeah, seems like it. I’ve been waiting around for months, and there are things I need to know.”

  “You haven’t exactly been waiting around.”

  Wren’s lips parted in surprise. “Wow. I’m guessing that means you have a problem with me dating? I thought you might.” She took a breath. “Okay. I get it. And I’d rather be just a friend to you than nothing at all.”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m still trying to figure all this out. It doesn’t feel backward to you to go from being ma
rried and exclusive to being in an open relationship?” Fallon felt her fighting instincts kick in and wasn’t sorry for it. She was better at combat than she was with relationships. “And if you’re seeing someone else you don’t want to stop seeing, why are you still interested in me?”

  But Wren wasn’t a fighter. She’d never engaged with Fallon in that way. She merely tipped her head to the side thoughtfully. “Exclusivity was your thing, not mine. I tried it and it was fine because I’ve never cared about someone so much, but it isn’t natural for a Sarkavian. This is just part of who I am, like your inability to live a normal life is part of you.”

  “Normal is entirely relative.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wren took a sip of her wine. “Having a short-term relationship with someone else doesn’t make me any less invested in a long-term relationship with you. The real question is, why did you get involved with me to begin with?”

  Fallon had been asking herself the same question for some time now. “I always knew the kind of life I wanted, even as a kid.” She let out a slow breath. “But you were different than anyone I’d ever met. You made me think about my life in a new way.”

  Wren ran her hand over the back of the chair. It was a nonchalant gesture, but Fallon knew Wren didn’t feel the least bit indifferent. “I wondered if I was part of some plan. If I was being used.”

  Fallon looked directly into Wren’s pale eyes. “No. You weren’t.”

  “I realize that now.” Wren made a helpless gesture. “But everything came down so hard, so fast. Your memory loss, this guy who showed up, saying you were part of some team. I wanted to stick it out, even though you might never remember me. Because you were still you, and we were still us.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  Wren moved around the chair and sat heavily. “I found out you were a BlackOp. That you’d married me with that massive secret between us. Even then I wanted to stay. Marriage isn’t something I take lightly. But if I stayed, only to realize I was being used, I’d never have trusted my own judgment again. I couldn’t do that.”

  To Wren’s credit, she had no tears in her eyes, no waver in her voice. She owned up to her choices, and Fallon had to respect that.

  Fallon eased around the couch and sat. “I get it, and I don’t blame you for your choices. I might have done the same. Probably would have. When I think it through rationally, I totally get it.”

  “And when you aren’t being rational?”

  Fallon set her glass on the narrow table between them. She gave Wren a long look, not sure how well she’d handle her answer. But she wasn’t going to lie. “I deserved better from my wife. If I’m going to be with someone, I deserve a person whose gut instinct is to cover me, no matter what. Someone who would watch the whole world burn rather than lose me.”

  Wren sat frozen, her eyes flickering with a half-dozen discarded replies. She wasn’t the only one of them who could read the other. Fallon saw everything she felt.

  Finally, Wren asked, “Does he feel that way about you?”

  Fallon didn’t have to think about who she meant, or how Raptor felt. “Yes. But it’s different with him. He and I are…raw. Visceral. Like a chemical reaction. A bond that never breaks. But it’s not…” Her eyes trailed over the quarters, remembering them again as a place of comfort and warmth. She and Raptor had never walked hand-in-hand on the beach, or had breakfast in bed together.

  Wren looked at her wine glass and blinked as if surprised that she still held it. She took a long time setting it on the table before meeting Fallon’s eyes again. “It sounds like, between him and me, you have everything you need.”

  “Maybe. But I married you. You were supposed to be everything all by yourself.” Fallon couldn’t keep a touch of bitterness out of her voice.

  “And you were supposed to be the person you said you were when I married you.” Wren’s words held no accusation.

  Whose wound was worse? Fallon couldn’t measure hurt against hurt, and she was tired of trying. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too. And I’m glad you have him. Someone who’ll have your back when you’re out there, doing who knows what.” Wren was quiet for a long moment, then she bounced to her feet. “I think dinner’s ready. Shall we eat?”

  “Seriously? You still want to have dinner after all this?”

  Wren shrugged as she placed a basket of bread on the table. “The only way through life is by forging through it. Let’s just move forward and let whatever happens, happen.”

  If it meant she could avoid having more talks like this, Fallon was on board.

  When Fallon returned to her quarters and climbed into bed, she was as alone as she’d been the previous night. But thinking of Wren and Raptor and how complicated relationships were, she was much more content to be that way.

  She’d become a PAC officer because she wanted to serve and to fight. She needed to shake off the other stuff and focus on that.

  Fallon woke up ready to attack her full schedule. She ran through her normal morning routine, then went down to Docking Bay Five to meet a new arrival. The Onari had returned.

  Jerin and Brak arrived through the airlock first, followed by Demitri, Kellis, and Trin. After a moment, more friendly faces spilled forth. Dr. Yomalu, Corla and her baby, Ben Brooks, and Endra. And they kept coming. Fallon felt a spark of pleasure at seeing each face that emerged. Most didn’t even bother with the bows that protocol indicated. They stepped right in and gave Fallon a hug instead. She found it all overwhelming, but in a good way.

  As usual, the boardwalk teemed with activity. The residents of Dragonfire held the crew of the Onari in high regard and delighted in their visits.

  “How was your trip?” Fallon asked Brak and Jerin as she escorted them down the concourse to their respective quarters.

  “Elective procedures on Dineb are always a pleasant experience,” Jerin answered. “Not only do we earn a good deal, but some of the crew also get to enjoy some shore leave.” As the captain and chief medical officer of the hospi-ship, Jerin took great care in seeing to the needs of her crew.

  “Were you working, or living it up on Dineb?” Fallon asked Brak, knowing perfectly well her friend was not likely to pass her leisure time on the party planet.

  Brak chuckled, a soft growl of a sound. Fallon smelled the sweet musk of Briveen amusement. “No cybernetics were needed, so I spent the time in my lab. I wouldn’t exactly fit in at the Dinebian dance clubs.”

  The three chuckled. No, a tall, scaled woman would definitely stand out. Not that Dinebians would mind that. Brak would probably have found herself a short-term celebrity. But Fallon couldn’t quite imagine Brak breaking out some dance moves among a crowd of strangers.

  “So long as you had a good time,” she said.

  “I did.”

  Fallon stopped at a door. “These are your quarters, Jerin. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “I’m sure I won’t, but thank you. I’m eager to put on my pajamas and have a good, long sleep.”

  It was barely midday. The doctor must have been exhausted. She disappeared inside, while Fallon and Brak stopped at the next door.

  “And these are yours,” Fallon said.

  “Thank you for walking with us. You didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to. It’s a pleasure to have you all back.”

  “It’s nice to be back,” Brak said. “I’d like to take a brief rest and eat, but I know you’re eager for me to give you the medical all clear. Do you want to meet me in the infirmary at the end of your shift? We’ll get that examination out of the way.”

  “I’d love to. I’ll let Brannin know to expect us.”

  “I’m sure he’s anticipated our arrival already,” Brak said, amused.

  “I bet you’re right.”

  The good Dr. Brash was a highly astute fellow. He would know Fallon was eager to get back to pushing her physical limits in the gym.

  “I’ll see you
this evening.” Brak entered her quarters and the door closed behind her.

  With renewed enthusiasm, Fallon went back to the security office for an afternoon of work.

  “Just relax,” Brak advised.

  There wasn’t much else Fallon could do, lying on a techbed. She tried not to fidget, wondering if Brak would give her brain a clean bill of health. Fallon needed to know if her head had healed enough for her to go with her team to make contact with Colb.

  She stared up at the ceiling, counting the tiles and making spatial-relations patterns out of them. The great thing about having a fantastic memory was that she had a lot inside her head to keep her entertained during times of boredom, such as this. That didn’t keep her from feeling itchy with anticipation though. She was far better at action than being still.

  “One more thing,” Brak said, sounding distracted. After a couple more minutes she said, “There we go. You can sit up.”

  Brannin stood alongside Fallon in case she needed assistance, but she didn’t. He smiled at her encouragingly, clearly knowing that waiting for Brak’s pronouncement had her on edge.

  “By every measure I can conjure, you are in perfect health.” Brak pulled her lips into a smile.

  “No issues you foresee with the inducer?”

  “It’s doing everything I’d hoped it would. You’ll still need to get regular checks—monthly, ideally—and let me know immediately if you have any confusion or issues with your memory. But otherwise, you’re cleared for duty, as well as all physical activity. Though I’d recommend against blows to the head, of course. But that’s pretty standard advice for all my patients.”

  Fallon and Brannin smiled.

  “I’ll do my best,” she promised.

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” Brannin said. “Would you two care to join me for dinner? I’m technically off shift.”

  “That would be great,” Brak said, “but I have plans with Kellis, Jerin, and Trin already. Why don’t you two join us?”