by Imogene Nix
“Nothing. It’s silent.” He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because it’s my sister, and maybe it’s not. It’s not uncommon for them to keep radio silence.” He shrugged, and for a moment she had to fight down the urge to comfort him.
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah. Look, I better let you get back to work. I’ll just…” He turned and walked away while she watched.
“You like him?” Sharia spoke softly, and she stilled.
“Yeah. I do.”
* * * *
Duvall brooded through the day. He knew that his feelings were now firmly tangled. He’d crossed his own line, putting the needs of Mellissa before those of the Admiralty, the crew, and the Elector. There had to be some way to break his dependence on her touch and smiles.
The first step, he felt, was to find a way to keep a distance. When she moved into his office to start her data input, he excused himself and worked from the bridge for most of the day.
He knew if anyone, friends included, privately thought him a coward, they would never say so to his face. Inwardly, he agreed with them. Sometimes, though, the coward’s way was the only way forward, so he remained diligent, reading reports, making decisions, and overseeing his officers on the bridge. By lunch he was almost climbing the walls.
“Are you going to call her?” Chowd towered over him, and Duvall grimaced.
“No.” He wanted to. Heavens knew, just hearing her voice would likely give him a surge of adrenaline.
“You want to.” Chowd dropped down into the seat beside him. “This is the first time I’ve seen you knotted up by a woman.”
Duvall shook his head, hoping Chowd would stand up and walk away. He didn’t. “Look, I really don’t want to…”
Chowd sighed and rose. “Well, should you change your mind, you know how to find me. The shift is taking a break. I’m heading to my office to sort out paperwork.” But even after Chowd left, he mulled over the question.
A million times he reached to contact her, but every time he drew back.
Later in the day Elara brought him coffee. He accepted the hot mug with a smile.
“Where’s Mellissa?” The glint in her eyes betrayed her interest.
“I’m not sure. Maybe on the holodeck or in my office.” He refused to be drawn, that yes, he knew exactly where she was. He didn’t need to ping her locator.
In his mind’s eye rose a picture of Mellissa, her face sheened with sweat, her eyes glowing. The lump in his throat grew bigger, as did another region of his anatomy.
He cleared his throat. “Why?”
“I want to be sure she’s adhering to a nutritionally efficacious diet.” The grin betrayed her teasing words.
“I had Chowd organize her food. He delivered it to her at 1300 hours.”
“You could just—”
“No, Elara. Don’t. Just, don’t.”
For a moment she looked downcast before her ready grin returned. “Fine. Not now. But soon you’re going to have to consider what you’re doing. She needs to know too.” With a nod that told him she’d expressed what she came to say, Elara moved away. But it left him with plenty to think about.
Duvall told himself that he didn’t need to know her whereabouts and that what he felt was a simple and uncomplicated attraction, and no doubt in time he would actually believe it. It did not change the fact that he worried about her, wanted to be with her to the exclusion of his responsibilities. That alone contradicted everything he believed and practiced in the years of his career with the Admiralty. He wouldn’t compromise his crew and his ship for one woman.
Better to keep a distance between them in whichever way worked. Deep down, he knew he lied to himself.
* * * *
The day passed quickly as Mellissa stayed busy. At 1700 hours Duvall contacted her to tell her preparations for dinner had stalled.
She knew exactly what that meant. The plan they had meant to put into play tonight was postponed. Mellissa drew a heavy sigh of relief. One more day before she had to face whoever their enemy was.
Duvall joined her at the end of the day for the final meal in the mess. The room was a hub of activity when she arrived with Elara, Sharia having finished her shift hours earlier.
“Does everyone eat here?” Mellissa asked.
Elara gave her a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
“Well, from what I’ve read, the senior staff of the services usually have a different dining room.”
Elara’s laugh tinkled through the air. “On some of the ships we practice that tradition still, but because of the size of the ship, it was considered and discarded. We need every available bit of space for reinforcement and… Well, the hull plating is thicker than average, meaning we have to be more frugal with the layout.”
“Oh.” Now Mellissa understood.
Elara encouraged her to join the line, and she made her choices. They’d barely settled into their seats when Grayson and Duvall joined them. Grayson stole a quick kiss from Elara and Mellissa looked away.
“He likes you.” Elara spoke quietly once the two men left to join the line.
“I…” What could she say? She liked him too? That he was excellent in bed? Instead, she grabbed a celery stick and started chewing on it.
“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’m his friend, but I can be yours too.” Elara reached out a scarred hand and placed it on hers, which rested on the table. “Remember that.”
Tears threatened as her eyes burned, but she managed to keep them at bay, while a warm glow bloomed in her chest. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”
The men returned and any kind of personal conversation ceased.
Mellissa anticipated the night to come, but Duvall surprised her wishing to spend the night quietly. He showed her his collection of movies from past eras, pointing out that he had some, which were by comparison old, but new to her. He suggested she pick through his collection. Then he left her to view them by herself, excusing himself on the grounds that he had work to complete.
She sighed inwardly and watched two of the movies, enjoying what the future generations thought was a representation of her time. Watching them trying to use money was hilarious, and she couldn’t help laughing out loud.
Mellissa ached at the distance Duvall tried to put between them. She knew what she wanted and understood he needed to feel in charge. She even remembered Jemma’s most useful piece of advice. Men like to feel invincible. When they get moody and quiet, leave them be. The memory felt like cold comfort as she looked out the window as she rose from the lounge in his ready room. Each time she looked in his direction during the movies, he’d had his head bent over his desk, and in the end she simply gave up, yawning and stretching.
“I’m going to bed.” The emotions she’d been containing exhausted her. She’d participated in physical training sessions, and emotionally she was battered by things she’d learned and experienced.
Her need to share everything with him grew stronger with each passing minute. Mellissa was also aware that her personal defenses were weak right now. The drag of the reality and unknown, of what she would face the next day, swamped her.
In silence, she crept out of the room toward his cabin, grabbed her nightclothes, and changed in the ablution room before padding softly toward the bed.
“Lights out.” She lay there listening to the room beyond. She wanted to call out to him but restrained herself.
“Moonlight display?” the computerized voice queried.
“Engage,” she answered.
Moonlight filled the room, and the soothing patterns eventually lulled her to sleep.
* * * *
Duvall told himself to stay away as he heard Mellissa head for the cabin. The sounds of her pattering around in preparation for sleep called like a siren, but he firmly ignored them. “Don’t be foolish. Ignore it.” But no amount of muttering and reminders helped as he worked his way through reports with only half his mind engage
d.
He worked until his eyes burned and weariness dragged him down. When the time came to retire, he found he couldn’t stay away. It was beyond his ability to ignore her.
Even as he rose and headed for the cabin, he called himself a million types of fool. Yet, staying away and ignoring her felt wrong. He moved into the room silently, and the moonlight captured her image, making her skin glow. The last thread of resistance snapped when he caught sight of her, sleeping in his bed, by moonlight.
“Damned foolish instincts.” Duvall stripped off his clothes, letting them fall into a pool at the side of the bed, while he watched the rise and fall of her chest.
He climbed into the bed beside her and gently lifted her into his arms. She roused, drowsy eyes opening to his, not hiding any of the longing he could see in her eyes. He gave in, both of them needing the reassurance of intimacy and touch.
“Duvall?”
The whispered words echoed, and he smiled. “Yeah, I’m here. Now let’s get these clothes off you.”
She shivered a little but slid off her bottoms as he toyed with the top. When she stopped, he drew the material over her head. This time, the loving evolved, soft and slow. He traced her body as she moved with him; she held him close while he adored her. Hands gripped, bodies sheened and strained, and finally the stars were within their reach. They found them together.
When they woke in the morning, they still lay wrapped in each other’s arms.
* * * *
Sitting at Duvall’s commdesk, Mellissa busily scanned through information he’d arranged for her to view today.
“I hope I can concentrate.” She shook her head, clearing the memories of the loving the night before.
“That good, huh?” Sharia winked, and for a moment Mellissa wanted to duck beneath the wood desktop.
“I…uh…”
“It’s okay. Captain McCord is a great guy and a hero.”
Shock ricocheted through her. “Hero?”
“Yeah. He and Grayson are the ones who found Elara. They’ve tracked down quite a few who’ve been taken prisoner by Crick Sur Banden. That’s why he’s been promoted so quickly. There aren’t many in their thirties who have command of a ship like this.”
Mellissa absorbed the shock. But it made sense. She’d seen just how comfortable he was in the position and the way his people respected him. It also explained why the Elector had been targeted and his mission.
That brought her mind back to the situation, and that she was waiting to bait and hopefully unmask the infiltrator. Dear God! Let it be over quickly. Nerves, like butterflies, took wing inside her belly, flickering and fluttering anxiously. Don’t let me make a mess of this.
She desperately needed to contribute to this crew who had welcomed her as one of their own. They’d all helped her immeasurably, and she felt some enduring friendships would grow from the experience, especially with Elara and Sharia. During her brief time aboard the Elector the women had bolstered her mentally during the meetings and chance encounters. The women exuded warmth and understanding, which Mellissa badly needed.
Duvall strode into the office, and she rose. He shook his head, and she wandered to the coffee pot and poured a cup. Her hands trembled as she lifted it to her mouth. Nearly time, screamed her mind. The butterflies became great big bats, whirling inside her stomach, and she put the cup down with a clatter.
The chime of the comm interrupted her musings. “Captain McCord, please meet me in SurgiTech. We have a situation that requires your attention.”
Duvall cast Mellissa a look that said stay safe, then he left without a word, striding forcefully through the door, his long gait eating at the space until finally he looked back briefly. He only uttered grimly, “Security Officer Cooper will be here with you.” Then he turned and moved through the doorway, out of sight. His eyes had burned her with intensity.
Now came the time, she thought as the door slid quietly shut behind him. She was on her own except for Sharia, soon to be called away on some bogus errand. Her last visible barrier of safety, she mused.
Not more than five minutes later, Sharia Cooper received a request from Elara to come to the sickbay, and she instructed Mellissa to “lock the door after me and only allow myself and the captain in.”
She watched her leave the cabin and took a deep breath to steady herself, arms wrapped around her middle defensively. Her stomach clenched with nerves, and she made an effort to appear relaxed and settled. Not an easy thing to do though.
Mellissa touched the ankle holster that Duvall had pressed on her earlier in the day, containing a small laser pistol. “Dammit all.” She dragged the tiny laser out and clutched the small weapon in her lap. It was hidden on her lap under the desk. She wouldn’t use it unless she had to, but it became a safety blanket, she told herself. Sharia had taught her how to use it during the sessions they’d passed on the holodeck, but she wasn’t confident.
Mellissa made herself scan the information on the screen before her as if she didn’t have a care in the world, but nothing made it through the fog as she sat there. Waiting.
She worked hard to appear engrossed. She wasn’t very good at acting and squirmed with nerves in the seat while waiting for the traitor to arrive, her body shaking. Chimes sounded, then the door shushed open. The engineer, Corbin Jard, entered the room, his hip canting against the edge of the wall. He looked friendly, yet in his eyes, she detected a wary perception.
“Miss Davis, what a pleasure, and just the person I needed to talk to.”
She held herself still, the tiny laser wobbling in her lap. The moment they had planned for had come, and she’d be damned if her actions jeopardized the planning with an ill-conceived deed or action.
Mellissa smiled. “Officer Jard, what can I do for you? As you can see, the captain isn’t here. I think he got called to the SurgiTech. Would you like me to buzz him?” She kept her voice even and friendly, as if nothing untoward was taking place.
He looked around, and she had the impression he was assessing her. “No. It makes no matter whether he’s here or not.”
His eyes took on a frigid hardness, which left her quaking inwardly. His pale blue eyes and sandy hair made him look so very ordinary, and yet she knew that made him far more dangerous. Her mind told her he made the perfect infiltrator.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and tugged out a snub-nosed weapon. She gulped, knowing this could be the end. Slowly, he raised his weapon.
Mellissa’s fingers slid a little on her own, clutched in one hand.
“What…what are you doing?” Mellissa had to play for time. They wanted to take the infiltrator—Jard—alive if possible.
Her free hand toyed with the mat, finding a small, hidden communicator. Using her nail, she pressed the tiny button so Duvall would hear everything. Just as they’d agreed. Jard had information they needed, information that could break open the web of deceit.
“Why are you…” Her voice trailed off.
“Poor Mellissa Davis. Plucked from your own time, only to become a martyr for the cause.” He spoke quietly as he shoved away from the wall and advanced in her direction. “Don’t you think I would make a great captain? Sadly, as much as I think you’d look great on my arm, it’s already too late, isn’t it? You’ve taken up with McCord.”
She shook her head forcefully, not trusting her voice.
“Oh, don’t lie. I’ve seen those looks you give him.” He sneered, and she shook in her seat as his vitriol filled the air around her. “Well, all I need to do is take a few minutes while he’s busy. Then in one moment, you’re gone and he’s lost. Couldn’t have planned it better myself, could I?” He laughed, the sound strident, as if he wasn’t quite in his right mind.
She rose with care, lifting out of the seat. “You don’t mean that. I haven’t done anything to you.” She slid her hand behind her back, hoping he wouldn’t catch sight of the tiny silver pistol.
“It really doesn’t matter anymore. Now come on, Miss Davis, how
about you make this easy?”
She took a deep breath, expanding her lungs. “Why? Why would you do this?” she asked, her voice breathless with fear.
“Why not? I’ve been promised my own ship. A crew who will be loyal to me. I’ve watched Duvall for years. It all came so easily to him, while I’ve had to work. But now I’m on the winning side. Just ask Crick Sur Banden.” His voice threaded with hate, betraying the depths of rage he held for Duvall. “While the women threw themselves at Duvall, he turned them away, leaving what was left for the rest of us. The more he turned away from them, the more he got them.” He leaned in. “He knew people before he even started at the academy, which meant he got the mentorship of the Admiral, and let’s not forget the position of captain of the Elector.”
He looked at her, his eyes glittering with a madness she hoped never to see again.
“Crick Sur Banden himself offered me a place in his regime when he finally defeats the Admiralty. He wants Duvall, and I’m happy to give him to my master. I can get even with Duvall, set the Admiralty into a spin, and do it all in one go. First, I got the handbook, and now I get the woman.” Jard smiled broadly once more. “I can’t wait to see what opportunity comes next.” His voice rose on the final words.
He started forward, once more raising the gun that had dipped down during his rant. She moved in the split second that he depressed the trigger, dropping as she had been instructed. The whining shot whizzed over the top of the chair where she had sat just minutes before. A sound split the air again, this time aimed at the center of the desk, but she moved just in time, rolling over the floor.
He lunged and prepared to fire again, and just when she knew he would shoot, a different low whine came from the doorway of Duvall’s cabin.
A security officer had soundlessly moved from the cabin to the ready room and fired on Jard, but the engineer caught sight of the officer and ducked, evading the shot.
She panted breathlessly, fright pushing her to protect herself. She crawled to the meager safety afforded by the meeting table. Peering over the tabletop she could see his face, surprise and hatred warring on his features. This time Mellissa and the security officer both managed shots, Mellissa’s making contact with the desk as Jard once more attempted to duck, but the security officer’s aim was true, connecting with Jard’s body as he grunted.
