My Fair Captain

by J. L. Langley

  “Yes, sir. They are on their way, Captain.”

  Kindros came to first, having gotten a lesser jolt than Jansen or Trouble. She sat, running fingers through her long dark hair, smearing blood across her forehead. She blinked drowsy brown eyes at him. “Hey, Hawk.”

  Nate offered her a hand. “Brittani.”

  She reached up and, noticing the blood, wiped it on her black pantsuit. Then she put her slim palm in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She held his hand, when Nate would have turned away, and squeezed. “Thanks.” Letting go, she straightened her uniform, dusting off the gold bars on the shoulders signifying her rank. Once again she touched her forehead and drew her hand back, studying the red smudge.

  “You’re welcome.” He knew she was a little more shook up than she let on. He hadn’t worked with her for going on ten years not to know how she reacted to stress. She was rattled, sure, anyone would be having had a weapon pointed at their temple, but she’d rather die than show it. The woman had more pride than most people he knew. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” Kindros groaned and followed him toward his unconscious son. “I feel like a total idiot, allowing that schmuck to get the drop on me and get out of the interrogation room though.”

  Nate nodded. “What happened?”

  Brittani grimaced. “He asked for some water. I ordered Johnson to get some, feeling a bit sorry for him after you scared the piss out of him.”

  Nate arched a brow. Really, people’s reaction to him was downright ridiculous—not that he would do anything to dissuade them. It worked to his advantage—but it was outrageous nonetheless. Okay, he’d earned some of his reputation, but he didn’t go around killing people for the fun of it. “And?”

  “And when Johnson came in with the water, the prisoner surprised us. He shoved me, grabbed Johnson’s weapon and then me. I thought he was still shaken up over having been captured and taken on board your ship. I slipped up.”

  It wasn’t like Kindros to let down her guard.

  She groaned and threw her hands up. “For crying out loud, Hawk, the man was so petrified at coming face-to-face with you he peed himself. I didn’t think he had the balls to try something like that.”

  “See that it doesn’t happen again.” Nate stopped and looked down at his son. Then something occurred to him. He sniffed and tugged Kindros around, surveying her backside. A wet spot stained the right side of her black uniform. “Did you realize you have urine on your pants?”

  Her face scrunched. “Eww… You bastard. This is your fault.”

  Nate chuckled. “I’m a bastard, but I’m not completely heartless, therefore you may change uniforms before you carry on.” He felt much more amused than he had when this whole ordeal started.

  The fifteen-year-old lay on his side, his mouth hanging open. He seemed fragile and very pale against the plum-colored carpet, his blond curls appearing almost white in contrast. Muffled groans from behind Nate caught his attention.

  The security team members were hauling Jansen to his feet. The man was still mostly out of it. The bigger of the two crewmen bent down, lifted the prisoner over his shoulder and walked back down the corridor. The other crewman dipped his head at Nate and then followed.

  “Asshole,” Kindros hissed.

  “It wasn’t his fault you let him get away.”

  She winced. “Ouch, rub it in.”

  “That’s my job. And, Lieutenant Kindros, for the record, letting a prisoner loose is a court-martial offense. I’m letting you off easy. Since you were the one held hostage, consider this a severe dressing-down. Don’t let it happen again.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  He bobbed his head in recognition to Kindros. “Make sure you get your head checked out.”

  “Yes, sir.” She sauntered off.

  A smacking sound brought Nate’s attention back to Trouble. The boy squinted and made a chewing motion then rolled over onto his other side, pillowing his hands together under his cheek. “Can we dress down Lieutenant Taylor too? I have been trying to catch him in the showers since he came aboard.”

  Nate nudged the back of Trouble’s thigh with his foot. “You’re in some serious trouble. And since you mentioned it, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about—”

  Trouble grabbed his leg and moaned. “Oh, the pain. I think my leg is broken. I’m going to die. I probably even have a severe concussion and—”

  Nate scowled at his son thrashing around the deck. Now that the danger was over his stomach felt queasy. The pest could have been killed.

  Trouble stopped moving long enough to crack open his eyes. Catching sight of Nate, he moaned louder and began thrashing about again. “Oh, I’m dying…”

  Nate scooped the little phony into his arms and started toward their cabin. “Pain or not you will be punished for disobeying an order.”

  Suddenly, the cherub face tensed, all pretense of pain leaving. “I almost forgot. The admiral is on the televid. He needs to speak to you right away!”

  His headache was coming back with a vengeance. Nate let go of the bridge of his nose, running his fingers over his mustache and beard, trailing his hand down his neck. He looked back at the monitor on his desk. “Okay, let me get this straight. You knew they had weapons before you sent me in there and you didn’t tell me?”

  Admiral Jenkins waved his chubby hand back and forth, shaking his head. “No, no, no. I knew we were missing weapons. I didn’t know where they got off to until I got the report from your ship saying you’d found them.” He stretched and yawned, staring at Nate when he was done. The man was purposely hedging.

  Nate shoved himself out of his chair and walked around to the other side of his desk. If he sat still any longer he was going to fall asleep. If it was any of the other IN Admirals he wouldn’t have dared break protocol, but this was Carl, who had been his friend for damned near twenty years, since Nate joined the Navy.

  After swiveling the televid to face him, Nate paced back and forth. “Carl, I’ve had a bad day. You sent me to a supposedly unarmed dinky backwater planet to deliver supplies for the resistance and my ship got shot at. After my crew captured the aggressors, we discovered they had a stash of IN class three weapons. The leader of the group of rebels took my first mate hostage, shot two of my crew and put carbon burns on my bulkheads before I re-apprehended him. We’ve had no luck getting information out of the group on where they obtained the guns, and now you’re telling me you knew the weapons were stolen, but not who stole them.” Nate stopped in front of the screen, raising an eyebrow at his commanding officer. “I’m bringing the detainees into headquarters. What else do you want from me? The last I heard, torturing prisoners for info was against IN policy.”

  The admiral grinned, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, making him look younger than his sixty-two years. It was a grin Nate knew well, and it made his headache kick up a notch. That smile from his friend didn’t bode well. The old man had something planned, something Nate wasn’t going to like. “So you were paying attention, Nate.”

  Nate snorted. “Of course I was paying attention. What are you scheming, Carl?”

  Carl chuckled.

  Fuck.

  “How do you feel about a little undercover work?”

  Nate barely kept his mouth from dropping open. Spying? Carl wanted Nate to spy? Nate couldn’t intermingle with a crowd if his life depended on it. Forget the fact that he had a reputation as the IN’s infamous Captain Hawk. He was six-foot-five and two hundred and forty pounds—he did not blend into the background well.

  “Oh, cool. Can I come?” Trouble’s platinum curls preceded his grinning face around the hatch frame.

  Closing his eyes, Nate counted to ten. How many times had he told the pest not to eavesdrop? Hadn’t he just given the kid a severe dressing-down for disobeying?

  “Hi there, Trouble,” the Admiral said cheerfully.

  Nate opened his eyes and shot his son a glare. “Out.” He pointed his finger toward the hatc
h.

  Flicking him a quick glance, Trouble waved at the televid. “Hi, back, Admiral Carl. How are Betty and your son?”

  “Trouble…” Nate gritted his teeth.

  “Bye, Admiral. Gotta go.” Jeremy took off, disappearing from sight.

  Smart kid. “Carl, I’m a naval destroyer captain, not a spy. Why in the universe would you want me to do undercover work?”

  “You better have a seat, Nate.”

  Great, just fucking great. It looked like the news was getting better and better. Nate went to his chair and turned the monitor back around.

  Leaning back in his own chair, Carl crossed his hands over his stomach. “I want you to use your title.”

  “You want me to go undercover as an IN officer?”

  The older man shook his graying head. “No, I want you to go as an Earl…the Earl of Deverell, heir to the Duke of Hawthorne.”

  Nate’s gut clenched like he’d taken a fist to the abdomen. He swore he could hear his blood pounding through his veins and his mouth felt like he’d eaten that bitter granular candy Trouble had a penchant for, but his composure never faltered on the outside. “I’m no longer the heir to Hawthorne. I’m sure the honor has long since passed to my younger brother.”

  “That is beside the point, Nate. No one will know that you haven’t been in contact with your family for nearly twenty years. I need you because you’ve lived in a regency society before. You know how to act as a lord, a gentleman.”

  “Are you commanding me to go or are you asking me?” He thought about it for a moment. “No. I won’t go back to Englor. Find someone else.”

  “No, no, not Englor, but a planet akin to it. It’s a planet called Regelence. They’ve similar customs. Their society is, like Englor’s, based on Earth’s Regency period. Like Englor, it’s also under the jurisdiction of the Aries Fleet.”

  Nate closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest. He didn’t want to do this. It would bring back way too many memories. Memories he’d just as soon stayed gone. Well, if not gone, buried away in his past where they couldn’t bother him. “Why?” He opened his eyes, meeting Carl’s gaze.

  “Because that is where the guns you found on the vessel that attacked your ship were stolen from. We need to find out who is involved. It’s a weird coincidence I know, but it will be easier for you to fit in. Otherwise, we’ll have to train someone to their customs and that will take time. Time we don’t have. We cannot allow our weapons to be used against us if we are to maintain peace between the planetary systems, Nate.”

  Damn the man. He had to bring the cause into it. Carl knew damned well how Nate felt about his job and what the IN did to keep peace.

  “I need someone I can trust, Hawk.”

  “All right. I’m in.”

  Carl’s smile was radiant. “Good. You will need to report to the base on Regelence Space Dock. You will be outfitted with a wardrobe there. Take Trouble with you. You will need someone who can get in with the servants.”

  “Yes!” Trouble’s triumphant shout came from the other room.

  Nate barely managed not to laugh. The little shit.

  The Admiral did laugh. “Train him to act as your valet. You will be staying at the planetary royal palace in Pruluce, the capitol country of Regelence.”

  Nate’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline. Carl wasn’t kidding when he said they needed someone who knew how to act titled. “The royal palace?”

  Carl’s lips twitched. “Yes, you’ll be the guest of King Steven and his consort. Raleigh is employed by the IN. But since he is too close to the case he cannot officially be involved. I doubt you will be recognized, but if you are it will not be a big deal. And while we are on the subject, Steven and Raleigh are the only ones who will know the true reason you’re there. Off the record, I know both of these men personally. They are good men and they aren’t involved. You can trust them fully. However, officially you report to me. You’ll be briefed fully when you—”

  Nate blinked, totally losing track of what the admiral was saying. Did he say—surely not. “Wait. Did you say he? The king’s consort is a man?” Societies like the one they were discussing, like the one Nate grew up in, did not tolerate same-sex relationships.

  The admiral laughed. “Did I forget to mention that Regelence is a very patriarchal society? So much so, in fact, that the aristocracy makes certain their offspring, especially their heirs, are male and genetically altered to have a preference for the same sex.”

  The Lazy Dog Tavern, downtown Classige, Pruluce on planet Regelence.

  Ralph Benson leaned against the wall, holding his breath. When he’d followed the other valet here, he’d had no idea the man was on the take. He’d come with the other castle servants to share a pint after the royal family turned in for the night. He never suspected this info would fall into his hands.

  Taking a drink of his ale, he nodded at a passing waitress, still listening intently to the valet as he spoke.

  “I think I have our man set-up to get the cloning technology once he marries into the family. After he gets his new spouse addicted we’ll work on influencing the father.” The valet stopped talking briefly, listening to whomever he was talking to on the televid, Ralph supposed. “No, the royal bitch does not know. She only knows that she will get the money when she gives him the schematics.” Again the valet paused. “Azrael has no idea I am here but I think he might suspect us. And remember, we always have her child to use if we have to—”

  Ralph pushed away from the wall. He’d heard enough. He didn’t understand most of what he’d overheard but he knew enough to discern their Queen was involved, which was what he was here for. He had to get word to Colonel Hollister somehow.

  Chapter Three

  Townsend Property: the outskirts of Classige, Pruluce, the capital country of Regelence.

  Gazing out the window at the passing landscape, Nate felt like he’d been transported back in time to his youth. The whole thing seemed surreal, the clothes, the coach, everything. It brought forth conflicting emotions. He found himself sitting more rigid than normal. Whether it was his repressed “lord” surfacing or the assignment he couldn’t say. The thing was, he’d never been what one would consider a pretentious lord, even when he was one, but this was a role, an acting job. The sooner he figured out who was in on the stolen weapons the better.

  A growl combined with a rustle of fabric brought his attention back inside the lift. He suppressed the urge to smile, knowing Trouble would only take it as encouragement. The kid had been fidgeting and bitching since they’d changed clothes on the space dock three hours earlier.

  Nate knew damned well the pest was trying to gain his sympathy and it wasn’t working. If he had to wear a waistcoat and cravat, so did Trouble. The kid should be thankful Regelence had a nice temperate climate. There had been days on Englor when it was downright unbearable to be anywhere but lounging at home in the air conditioning.

  Squirming and nearly worming himself off the leather cushions, Trouble made agitated little grunts and groans.

  “Stop fidgeting.”

  Trouble snorted and fell to his side on the seat. Grabbing the fabric over his thighs, he tugged and wiggled, assumingly trying to ease his britches downward a bit. Soon enough one hand came up, yanking at the neckcloth, followed by melodramatic choking sounds. With much production, the kid finally slithered to the polished wood floor and glared up at Nate.

  Nate raised a brow.

  “Kill me now.” The pest’s arms flopped to his sides on the floor. His face screwed up and he closed his eyes on a wail.

  Nate’s lip twitched. The kid really did have a flare for dramatics—he was quite the drama queen. “What happened to ‘I’m super spy Double-o-Trouble’?”

  The pale brows drew together and one aquamarine eye cracked open. “That was before I was forced to wear smothering clothes. This rains meteors, Hawk.” Trouble pushed himself off the floor and back onto the seat with a sigh. “These pants are so
tight my balls are practically in my throat. Or rather they would be if this noose I have around my neck wasn’t restricting the space in there.” He pulled at the starched white cloth tucked into his collar again. “I don’t see why I have to wear this getup. I’m supposed to be a servant.”

  “You’re a valet. How can you be expected to dress me, if you can’t even dress yourself?”

  “I didn’t dress you. You dressed me.” He motioned to the cravat that Nate had tied into an intricate knot. “Why can’t I be the earl and you be my valet?”

  “Because an earl does not flop around on the floor and complain about his unmentionable anatomy being in his throat.”

  Trouble’s eyes widened. “Damn, Hawk, you sound like you have a stick up your ass.”

  Nate turned back toward the window, studying the vibrant green grassy slopes and trees, keeping Trouble from seeing his grin. “Lords don’t mention foreign objects up people’s arses either.”

  “Speaking of things up people’s asses—”

  “Trouble…” he warned. He had no idea what the pest was about to say, but it certainly wasn’t the kind of talk the imp should use. It wasn’t at all proper and he needed to be getting into character. Of course, it was Nate’s own fault because the kid had been raised around sailors for half his life.

  “Whaaat? I’m just saying… This is a gay society, right? So, does this mean I can find a boyfriend?”

  Nate groaned. “No, you may not. This is a job. You are supposed to be gathering information.” The thought of his son in possible danger wasn’t a pleasant one. It brought to mind the pest’s last escapade that nearly got him killed.

  A smile crept across the boyish face. “What if I have to get cozy with the enemy to get information?”

  “Now why do I have the feeling you will find yourself in just that sort of situation?”