by J. C. Hay
“Ambassador’s son, remember? We had escorts for that sort of thing.”
She sighed. “Aim here. Fire here. There’s no guidance so you’ve got to lead your target. In theory, the computer should be adjusting your crosshair based on range to target.” She ignored Bree’s hurt sniffle from the comm panel.
“A little primitive, don’t you think?”
“Go with what works. Man’s been throwing rocks at each other from the moment we grew thumbs. Besides, there’s no tracking to jam or confuse. Most countermeasures don’t work.”
He nodded and wrapped his hand around the targeting stick. “I can see the appeal. Didn’t you have missiles?”
“The key word there was had. They’re not cheap and I used my last two scrambles off Hamunaptra.” Another blast splashed across the aft shields and sent tendrils of energy arcing across the viewscreen. “How’re you holding up, Bree?”
“I am at optimum, Captain. I’d greatly enjoy staying that way.”
“I’ll see what I can do, baby.” She tapped out a series of commands on her console and the Quarry spiraled into a dive.
Galen swore. “Warn me next time, I was lining up a shot.”
“Don’t line up. Shoot. I’m not going to sit still and let them target me.” As proof to the point she rolled the ship again and twisted it across the path of the lead patrol boat. He pulled the trigger and a stream of high-velocity ingots poured towards the target. Syna saw the forward shield flicker as the slugs drilled through them—the Tse had been expecting energy weapons, rather than mass, and hadn’t adjusted their shields for the older weapon. She called for a magnification of the viewscreen and spotted a gas outvent where the heavy bullets had ripped through the hull. “Nice shooting.”
“I expected it to be more dramatic.”
“You haven’t taken them out yet, just hurt them. Aim farther back. Shoot for the engines.”
He laughed. “I’m lucky I hit it at all.”
She tapped in a new set of evasive commands. “Pray your luck holds, then. Where’s that other ship, Bree?”
“Two and five, Captain.” High and in the aft quarter. “They’re trying to catch us between them.”
“Don’t let that happen.” The Quarry pulled up in a slow parabola, and the Tse boats arced to follow. A shot from the higher boat lanced into the Quarry’s side and sent the ship rocking. The smell of melted plastic and ozone filled the bridge. “Bree? What’s our status?”
“Starboard shields are at twenty percent, Captain. I can’t take another hit like that one.”
“Kill the inertial dampers,” Galen said. Syna looked over at him, about to say something, but he cut her off. “Just do it, trust me.”
“You heard the man, Bree. Reroute power from dampers to starboard shield.”
“Affirmative.”
The next maneuver sent Syna’s heart rolling as, without inertial dampening, they felt every G of the high-speed turn. They turned sharper than she’d expected, however, and ended up outside the paired ships.
“Gotcha!” grunted Galen, and he jerked the trigger again. This time there was no need for magnification. A silent yellow-white sphere engulfed the patrol boat’s aft quarter as the drive was punctured and went critical. The Tse ship’s lights went dead and it continued past them. He whooped in exhilaration.
“Celebrate later. There’s still another one out there.” Thrusters roared and she pushed the ship down, eager to get underneath her foe.
“Luong-class cruiser inbound from system center.” Bree’s voice was flat.
“Fighters?”
Galen shouted, “Two wings, standard configuration,” at the same time Bree said, “None yet.”
She scanned the system for options—the Quarry was designed to go up against other trading vessels, preferably without firing a shot. Luck was all that had held them this long, but they’d be no match for a squad of high-mobility fighters. She spotted her chance and tapped the coordinates into her console.
“Captain? That path appears to move through a planetary-ring system.”
“My mistake, Bree. I meant to park us inside the ring.”
The main engines roared and the ship picked up speed towards her target. They’d have to cross the path of the bigger cruiser, but hopefully it’d still be too far out to respond.
“That other Huang’s circled back around,” Galen said. “She’s coming up fast.”
Syna shouted “Hull it,” without looking away from the monitors. Red indicators flashed to warn of the approaching belt of ship-killing ice and rock.
He squeezed the trigger, and she watched the line of fire streak towards the ship’s bridge. The superstructure held up a moment and then blossomed outwards as escaping gas rent huge holes in the sides of the vessel. She looked away before she could see anyone thrown clear of the ship. Vacuum was an ugly way for anyone to die, even the Tse.
“That’s both boats. Are you really taking us into a ring? Is that wise?”
“It beats the alternative. We’re no match for a Tse warship. At least not head on.”
The main engines fired again, slowing the Quarry’s acceleration. “Ten minutes to ring contact, Captain.”
“Find us a big hunk and land on it, Bree. Something big enough to hide us in its sensor shadow.”
“Aye, Captain.” The ship turned slowly and Syna realized that the dampers must have been turned back on. She looked over at Galen. “How’d you know that trick with the dampers?”
“I read it in an action novel.” He looked sheepish and incredibly kissable.
“Does the rest of it compare?”
“I expected louder explosions. And the heroine in the book’s not as pretty.”
She blushed and turned back to the console. A list of damaged systems scrolled up the screen. Starboard maneuver jets, waste recycling and the shield generators stood out as the most important. She levered up out of the chair. “Come on. We’ve got work to do or we won’t make it to your lighthouse rendezvous.”
She stopped at a ship’s closet long enough to grab a tool belt and two pairs of leather gloves. “No padding in these, but at least you won’t get burned if something’s too hot. Come on, I’ll need your help down in engineering.”
Galen slipped the gloves on as the ship settled onto one of the rocks in the planetary ring. The whine of anchor drills resonated down the corridors and set his teeth on edge. The drills would make it hard to lift off quickly, but it also kept them securely fastened to the rock. An important modification in a zero-g environment and, he knew, completely off the book on a ship this size. Like the mass drivers, for that matter. He wondered how many other modifications he’d see when they reached the engineering department.
Department turned out to be a dramatic overstatement. The entirety of engineering consisted of two long, narrow access corridors down either side of the main power plant. It was barely big enough for one person, let alone the two of them side by side. Heat from the power plant leaked through the walls and left him mopping at his forehead in a futile effort to keep pace with the sweat that soaked him.
Beside him, Syna fared little better. Her ginger hair matted against her skin, and perspiration beaded on the side of her neck. Galen had a sudden urge to kiss her, to taste the salt on her skin, hear the tiny gasp of surprise that she thought he hadn’t heard when she’d kissed him in the gym. Had there been more room in the cramped corridor, he’d be tempted to try.
Gods, what was this woman doing to him?
“Are you going to help or just stare down my shirt?”
Galen blinked, smiled. “Is there a way I can do both?”
She shoved a curl of hair out of her face, pink leaching into her cheeks. “Just hold this.” She indicated the wires in her hands with a jut of her chin. He had to shift closer to reach and found himself too conscious of the way she pressed back against him as she worked. He willed his body not to respond and hoped it wasn’t too distracted to ignore him. She mumbled something as she
flattened her back against him.
“Sorry, what?”
“Close your eyes,” she whispered. His pulse lurched erratically until blue-white plasma illuminated the space, and he realized she’d issued it not as a come-on, but a warning. His eyes snapped shut and focused on the red-yellow afterimage of the welding lance drifting quietly behind his eyelids. “Two more, then I think we’ve bypassed it.”
“That’ll bring the shields up to full?”
“It’ll bring them back to where they were before we started this venture, which is something. Stay out of the aft-most cargo hold—I had to reroute power from its environmental controls.”
“Is that safe?”
The welder sparked again, the light savage even through his closed eyes. The smell of ozone and charged particles drifted through the air. Combined with her shampoo, it made her smell like a spice field after an electrical storm.
“Yeah, just don’t go in there. Not much choice in the matter, the starboard field’s influx coupler got slagged. I don’t just carry those around with me.” The welder flared again. “That should finish that.”
Galen opened his eyes cautiously. “You can’t ask Bree?”
Syna shook her head. “No. There’s no pickups in here, and no speaker for her to respond through. I have to do it from the hall.”
He grinned. “Ooooh, unchaperoned. I like it.”
She laughed, her blush renewed. Warmth flooded out from her, her emotions a sea he wanted to swim in. She has no idea how sexy she is, he realized. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her.
She froze for a heartbeat and a flicker of panic went through him, then her hand tangled in his hair and tugged him closer. Her body crushed against him and any control he’d aspired to evaporated. The heat of her body soaked through his skin, suffused him as he lost himself in her.
She broke the kiss long enough to take a breath, then tugged his hair back to bite along his jawline. The combination of teeth and tongue overloaded Galen’s senses. His knees lost any sense of strength they had, and he reached out for support with one hand.
There was a soft pop and a whiff of electrical smoke. She pulled up from the kiss and touched her nose-tip to his, a quiet smile playing across her mouth. “Please tell me you didn’t just rip out my lovely bypass.”
He looked to his hand, tangled in the wiring, as if it were an alien on the end of his arm. “I…am going to go ahead and say yes.”
She slid her hand between them. His nerve endings went crazy as he felt the back of her hand slide past his hips, and she grinned at him, heavy-lidded eyes sparkling with mischief. Her hand retraced its route with agonizing slowness and when it came up, presented him with the hand welder. “Then you get to fix it.”
He let out a ragged breath. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Later. If you’re very good.” She backed farther down the corridor to give him access to the panel he’d wrecked.
“You’re not going to stand over my shoulder, make sure I do it right?”
Syna laughed. “Oh no. I’m not getting close to you again until I’m certain you’re out of reach of everything fragile.”
He clamped back on the “Even you?” that leapt into his mouth, and strangled the words before they could find their way out. She was many things, but fragile wasn’t one of them. He settled for a quiet, “Aye, Captain,” and bent to the task.
When he looked up, she was still smiling at him. “Are you finished?”
“I think so. I tightened up a few of the nearby welds to be safe. Don’t want them to come loose during a rough—”
“That’s sufficient. Go to my quarters. I’ll be along after I’ve checked your work.”
A shiver wound its way along his spine and found a home six inches below his navel. Galen let out a slow breath to calm it and smiled. “Aye, Captain.”
What the hells are you thinking, old girl? If the voice was insistent in her head, the response shouted just as loud. I’m thinking he’s an incredible kisser, and it’s time to see what else he’s good at. That firm length he’d pressed against her hand when she’d passed off the welding torch didn’t hurt her opinion either. Syna leaned against the panel and gave the wiring a cursory glance. As she’d expected it was perfect.
What about Anbjorn? He was alive, after all. And he let me mourn him, let me think he was dead until he needed something. It had never been about anything but him. The revelation felt like a hand unclasping from her heart. That wasn’t love, not by a damn sight. Done with him. Done with his arrogance, his pettiness and his jealous rages. She couldn’t believe she’d mourned so long for him, after the way he’d treated her.
Was Galen any better? Perhaps, perhaps not. He’d not lied that she was aware of, had even told the truth after she’d threatened to kill him for doing something he couldn’t help. She smiled at the memory of his sheepish grin. Emotionally loud, he’d called her. He hadn’t seen anything yet.
She found him standing in the center of her quarters, a boyish smile flickering behind his eyes that lay at odds with the wickedness on his lips. She disconnected the comm unit on the wall and hoped Bree wouldn’t discover an emergency for the next hour. Or eight. When she turned back to him, a nervous grin tugged the corner of his mouth. “I shouldn’t have—”
Syna crossed the space between them and smothered his sentence with a kiss, as much to quiet his complaints as to keep from losing her nerve. Her hands slid up his back, felt the wiry strength in him, tangled in the hopeless mop of his hair. He replied in kind, his hands on the small of her back. She ground heat against heat, her desire a low growl in her throat despite the clothes that separated their bodies.
His hands cupped her breasts and she arched back for him, until he reached for the zipper to her coveralls. She batted his hands down and grinned at him. “My ship. My rules. I’m in charge.”
His smile came back, the fire dancing in his chestnut eyes. “Aye, Captain.” A shadow crossed his face and took the grin with it. “I need to tell you, before we go any further—”
“You can read my emotions, I know. You told me.”
“No. I… Look, it takes a lot of control to not be in someone’s head. Control I don’t really have when…” He blushed.
Gods of sun and star. He was embarrassed.
She gave her best hungry smile. “I’ll take that chance. Shirt. Off. Now.”
He pulled the dingy gray garment over his head slowly. As she’d expected, the olive flesh beneath was well toned—the kind of muscular strength that didn’t require thick definition and bulging pectorals. Not that he didn’t have a different bulge to be interested in. Syna kissed him again, her fingers stroking the thin patch of hair on his chest as she steered him towards the bed. It bumped against his legs and he sat down heavily, smiled up at her. “When’s it my turn?”
She pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. “When I say it is.” She bit her lip as she ground down onto his hips, felt his arousal pressing up against her. He groaned and pressed back. The sound set her pulse racing as much as his body’s response. She batted his hands away from her chest again.
With deliberate restraint, she dragged the zipper down until her hand rested on his taut stomach. She shrugged one shoulder, then the other, out of her coveralls, careful to always keep one flap of fabric drawn tight against her chest. When she dropped the cloth, the hunger in his eyes made the tease worthwhile. Syna curled her fingers under the edge of her bra and willed herself not to rush, even as the continued roll of his hips against hers encouraged exactly the opposite.
She lifted the Lycra slowly, watching his face the entire time. She’d never thought much of her chest—certainly Anbjorn always considered them a speed bump to areas he was more interested in. By the look on Galen’s face as she pulled the bra over her head, he’d never seen a finer pair in the universe. She shivered, feeling the fire in her blood roar from the naked hunger in his gaze.
“Now it’s your turn.”
His hand
cupped her breast like it was a relic, thumb teasing the pebbled skin around her nipple until he replaced it with his mouth. She pressed him closer, fingers gripping his hair as he stoked her molten core to a boil. She whimpered, fumbled with his pants while his hands tugged her coveralls away. “So beautiful,” she heard, not sure if he’d whispered it or spoken directly in her mind. No longer caring about anything but satisfying the need that blazed in her, she kicked her legs free of the cloth and crawled back atop him. His every kiss burned on her skin, his expert touch answering her needs before she could voice them. When she couldn’t bear it any longer, she guided him into her, and the fire in her blood raged into an inferno.
She crushed her lips to his, heard the whispered pleas in her head and didn’t know if they were his or hers. Didn’t care. The ship, the planet, the whole damn Tse Hegemony could rot in the hells, just let this moment last forever. If having his voice in her head meant he could make her feel this good, it was worth it.
~ * ~
Galen curled his arm around her shoulders while she slept, her ginger hair pale against his skin. Protective, even though he knew she didn’t need it. She hadn’t killed him for being in her thoughts—quite the opposite. They’d meshed together in a unity that he’d never achieved with a non-psi before. He’d lost himself in the haze of her emotions. No, he corrected, I found myself. He was ready to abandon the mission, forget Hamunaptra. Just give up everything and run away with her to somewhere that the Tse would never find them. Only the knowledge that there was no such space prevented him suggesting it. Sooner or later, the Tse would reach everywhere, as inexorable and inescapable as rot in a fallen log.
Unless they succeeded on Hamunaptra. If the psi resistance could hold the tide there, then perhaps it would stop the Tse’s expansion into the fringe. Or at least slow it long enough for two people to live out a happy life together. He stroked her hair, teased the sweat-damp curls from her face. For that to happen, they needed to get to the lighthouse and stop the fleet’s approach. That meant they needed to get past the cruiser that lay in wait for them further in.
