by Imogene Nix
Jard’s body was mid-swing, and momentum continued, turning him as he pressed the trigger, his gaze locked on her. This time she could see her face mirrored in his eyes, knowing the pistol was automatically acquiring a target.
Aim and fire, she thought, as a whine split through the air. Jard moved backward toward the desk, the acrid smell of burned flesh filling her nostrils. He fell, his body thudding against the desk and hanging there for a split second. A final whine split the air as the officer squeezed out one more shot. It connected with center of Jard’s chest.
His face, cleared of shock, assumed the blank mask of death. Jard’s corpse slid, and the sound of the body thudding as he hit the deck echoed.
Mellissa could hardly breathe. Her stomach heaved, wanting to empty her breakfast, but she controlled it firmly. Jard was clearly dead, the immediate threat neutralized.
* * * *
Duvall waited for the signal from the security officer while listening to Jard’s diatribe. He ran after the quick bleep shrieked. His pulse thrummed as his legs pumped, eating up the metal decking.
Would he make it? Visions of Mellissa lying on the floor, bleeding out, haunted him as he panted, his body moving faster than ever before. Duvall reached the door and pulled it open, but for a moment he was sure it was empty. He moved toward his ready room and heard the whine of lasers, his heart stuttering in his chest.
He pushed past the security officer at the door, then stopped in his tracks. One look at Jard on the floor and his face tightened, not just with distaste but also the shock of betrayal. He swiftly headed for Mellissa across the room, where she sat huddled on the floor, pale and shaking. He reached for her. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice rough with emotion.
She shook her head wordlessly, and he lifted her into his arms. She held onto his arms as he hurried to remove her from the room. Once safely within the cabin she looked at him, her face pale. “I did what I had to.”
“I know, honey.” Holding her close, he damned himself and the need to use her, unable to conceive why it had felt so wrong. He rocked her, soaking up the warmth of her body, and she lay in his arms. Silent. Soundless. That tightened the knot in his chest further.
What have we done? He’d never felt so frightened in his life as he had when he’d had to leave the cabin and Mellissa. He’d known the risk was high, but had made every attempt to protect her. It had been enough to protect her body, but what had it done to her soul? Yet that damned card had ensured she remained in the middle, whether he wanted it or not.
“God, I nearly didn’t make it to SurgiTech. I worried the whole time,” he told her gruffly. “I don’t think I could have coped with you being hurt.” He kissed her hard, holding her body tight against his, his lips seeking reassurance that she was unharmed. They both knew this emotion exposed only the tip of the iceberg where their feelings were concerned.
She pulled away, and he growled.
“Not now, Duvall. We need to work out what he knew.” Her voice was husky and forced.
He felt her pain, but wasn’t sure how to help her. Of course, he knew she was right. He needed to find out what Jard had been up to. They knew why Jard had betrayed them, but it didn’t make sense. When had he had the opportunity to meet with Crick Sur Banden?
He thrust the questions aside. Finding answers to the questions at this point was Chowd’s role. He trusted him with his own life and that of this fragile woman lying in his arms. He and his command crew would find out everything there was to know.
He watched as Chowd gave orders to his people who came and went, some checking the body, while others were sent to search Jard’s cabin. Chowd started making lists of known associates. The security officers wasted no time looking for clues and answers.
Engrossed in what was occurring, Duvall was surprised when Mellissa roused, shifted in his arms, then pulled away. “You have work to do,” she said, her voice hoarse.
He couldn’t deny her statement, but he was unsure if he should leave. When she pushed against him, and uttered a firm “go,” he stood and spoke firmly. “You’ll rest here.” He didn’t wait for her acceptance, just strode out to his ready room. Now he would join with his crew to get the answers.
Chowd stood sentinel at the door, directing his men. “What do you plan to do next?” Duvall asked.
“I’ve got men checking Jard’s office and his private compartment. If they find so much as a notation on a piece of paper, they’ll let me know. He has to have communications equipment, though I doubt we’ll find any more than a go-between at the end of the comm.” Chowd’s words reinforced his own thinking.
“We have to have this cleared away before we reach the Admiralty.”
“I would agree with that, Duvall. But I don’t know that we’re going to have all the answers you want.”
Duvall dragged a shaky hand through his hair. “No. But whatever we have is going to be a step in the right direction.”
Duvall’s fury banked while they worked to piece together the known facts and made him short with the crewmembers. In no time, Jard’s remains were removed from the office, Elara taking control of the corpse with her customary efficiency.
“We’ll take him to the morgue,” she said, her words soft while she cast an eye over Duvall. “How’s Mellissa coping?”
“She’s…” He shrugged. She’d remained in the cabin, her face chalky white, and she’d refused any offers of anything.
“I’ll go check her over if you’d like?”
He nodded. There wasn’t much else he could do for her right now. Tension wrapped around him as Elara disappeared inside the cabin and time passed at a creep. When she finally reappeared, he sucked in a breath. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine. I’ve prescribed a shower and something to eat. She’ll join me up in SurgiTech later.” She left him then.
Chowd was ushering his people out of the room, and Duvall brooded. There were so many questions. How to deal with the body, and questioning the trustworthiness of his crew felt like bitter blows. His anger at Crick Sur Banden rose like a fire in his throat.
He checked the incoming reports, and Chowd took the seat opposite him. Ready to share the information recovered from Jard’s cabin.
“He had accessed a range of Admiralty records, and his personnel file showed anomalies that hadn’t really seemed so out of place before. Placement on destroyers, nothing out of the ordinary there of course, but some of the dirtside placements included Rubicon VII,” Chowd told him.
Duvall scanned the placement records as they talked. “Rubicon VII is a training outpost.”
“One of the most taxing we have. There is a lot of dissent there.” Chowd relaxed back into the seat. “Most of the men sent there face war-like situations.”
“Even so, how did he meet with Crick Sur Banden? We have no intelligence of his being there.”
“He’s not going to tell us where he’s likely to visit.” The bitter words slipped from Chowd’s mouth.
“No. So what came next?”
“He was given his choice of placements. He asked for the Star of Ishtar then, under Elphin, and from there jumped straight to the Elector. I’d extrapolate that he bided his time, knowing the perfect opportunity would come up. I would suggest that all his following placements were at Crick Sur Banden’s request.”
Duvall ached to lay his hands on the rogue leader. “Do you have his service records? What’s in the personal folder?”
Chowd handed it over, and Duvall flicked through the pages of the hard copy. He exhaled with a whistle having found a notation in his final months aboard the Star of Ishtar—an extended leave.
“That was when we were finalizing the placements. I remember, distinctly, that he was unavailable until just prior to launch. I nearly replaced him, but Elphin himself had crewed with him. Told me he was a great engineer and just what the Elector needed.” Duvall smothered a curse.
“He only arrived the day before, the only other time I’d met him
was when he came aboard to receive his orders and uniform. That would coincide with the disappearance of the handbook.”
“Barsha!” Given the duration of his leave, it was certainly long enough to get rid of the stolen book.
Chowd shifted in his seat, it squeaked a little, and Duvall shot him a searching look. “Duvall, there will need to be changes in the security screening in the Admiralty.”
He agreed, grimly making a mental note to add it to his written report for Elphin.
* * * *
Once they had the mess cleaned up and the members of the team debriefed, Duvall returned to the bridge as the approach chimes sounded throughout the ship. As the ship entered the approach to the gate that would take them out of the slipstream, Duvall mused that so much had happened in a short period. From there came the approach to Aenna.
Mellissa trailed behind him as he made his way to the bridge. He’d watched her and itched to grab her in his arms.
He’d forced her to grab a quick meal in the mess hall, and Elara had indicated that she was steady enough. His reluctance to have her out of his sight remained a concern, but she’d handed herself so well and coupled with her lack of combat training, he felt dealing with the aftermath might require some coping strategies. He made a note to discuss that with Elara.
Duvall motioned to her to take one of the vacant security spots nearby, watching as she let herself sink into the seat just as he did the same. He flicked the commbutton. “Boys and girls, time to leave the slipstream. Find your allocated places and strap in. We have no idea what we’re going to find waiting on the other side.”
They both agreed that on a ship the size of the Elector no secrets such as that of the Corbin Jard situation could be hidden. So he’d briefed the entire crew earlier, ensuring they understood exactly what was at stake.
* * * *
Mellissa felt like a fraud, sitting beside Duvall on the bridge. His people worked efficiently so that when the chimes rang through the air, there was no sense of panic.
“Shielding set to maximum, Captain.”
“Preparing report for transmission.”
The voices called out to Duvall, and he acknowledged each and every one.
Admiralty. The very word imprinted itself on her brain. Would they see her as a liability or an asset? What future could there be for her in this new time?
Would they allow her to stay, or would they send her back to her time? Or worse still, send her to somewhere far from Duvall? The thought of the last two options made her shake.
On one hand, this relationship, if she could call it that, was new and untested. He hadn’t promised her anything, yet the care he’d shown after Jard—she shied away from the memory of his body and knowing she’d shot him—told her he felt something. If she were honest with herself, she wanted a chance at building something long term with Duvall, but the knowledge she was leaving everything and everyone she knew behind filled her with despair.
“God, I’m a mess.”
Duvall shot a look in her direction.
“Just… Just talking to myself.”
Closing her eyes didn’t make her feel any better. Mellissa knew their short time together didn’t make for a stable grounding for a relationship, but oh how she wanted the chance to build one, to consider what might come of their time together and whether it would be a long-term thing or just a short-term fling. Either way, she felt committed to making it work. But is he? Her chest ached, as did her mind. I’ve got nothing to gain by running this around in my head constantly.
She nervously looked around the bridge. Everyone seemed to know what to do, and even Elara, as the ST, had a spot and strapped in.
A large patch of black loomed before the ship, and she gripped the sides of her seat. A jolt, thud, and whine of the drives of the ship seemed to change pitch. The flowing star trails stopped, and once more she looked upon twinkling stars through the screen ahead. Slipstream behind them, an enormous gate loomed. Slowly, almost gracefully, the Elector sailed through it.
“Welcome to my time.” Duvall had turned and watched her. He smiled suddenly, seeming more at ease, she thought. “Comms, any unfriendlies?” He turned toward his main comm officer, a young, blond man at the console.
The comm officer turned briefly and looked at Duvall. “None on the first sweep, Captain. However, I’ll run a secondary sweep using the radar transmission in case there is the potential for cloaked bogies.” He turned, and his fingers flew across the starpad station situated next to his desk screen. He cocked his head to one side briefly, as though listening through headphones, shook his head, and this time, when he looked at Duvall, he smiled. “No bogies out there, sir.”
“Grayson? We need to make time to Admiralty. Better take us to maximum running speed. Gaines? Keep an eye peeled for unfriendlies. I’d hate for things to get any more interesting.” He grunted.
A ripple of nervous laughter split the air.
“Elara, take Mellissa to the ST station and start running her through the systems. Show her the basic medical devices, just in case you need an assistant.” He turned and looked at her before turning back to his desk screen. “Chowd, go with them. I need you to do a quick assessment of the ST facilities anyway.”
No time like now to prepare for the worst-case situation, she thought, watching him turn back to his station. Not that he had any expectations of interception this far into Empire space. She could read his body language now. His body had lost some of the aura of concern, the tension of earlier washed away. But given what had already happened on this mission, somewhere deep inside, she wondered if he also dismissed her.
She shook herself and quickly re-evaluated what he had done. She realized that his sending her to the SurgiTech suite was a way of giving her a place aboard the crew. Not only did he ensure she felt like she had a role, but he wouldn’t take any chances with her safety. They both knew there was potential for further threat on the ship, though neither admitted it. She worried that he had left himself vulnerable, but then she reconciled herself. Other security officers worked on the bridge. And he had a job to do. Best to let him get on and do it. She rose and followed Elara.
Chapter 6
Mellissa wandered around the SurgiTech and marveled at the changes in technology that brought about the array of tools that could heal so many things. She entered a tiny cubicle, carrying the equipment Elara had handed her.
The first time she’d been in this room, she’d woken on the bed over by the wall. The slim bar, currently retracted into the wall, was smooth and metallic in color, she knew from experience. Elara watched her from the doorway as she cast her gaze around the room with interest.
“What are these?” Mellissa gestured toward long, cylindrical devices that were stored on a shelf by the doorway.
“Those are applicators. I think they’re similar to what you called syringes? We use them to deliver a dose of whatever. Most of our medications can be absorbed through the skin.”
“So different to our time. I hate getting needles.”
Elara laughed. “Then you’re admirably suited to our time, I’d think.”
The next room looked more like a traditional ward. Four beds held position against the walls with a larger one in the center. “That doesn’t look very comfortable!” It reminded her of a photocopier top.
“It’s a holobed. We use it for diagnostic purposes, so it doesn’t need to be comfortable. Just unobstructed.”
The last medical room in the suite was a mini intensive care unit. It contained two beds. “How do you manage by yourself? I mean, you’ve got seven beds total. That’s a lot of bodies to cope with by yourself.”
“Most of the crew have a modicum of medical experience. If it were necessary, I could request assistance through Gray. But mostly, the injuries I deal with are able to be repaired quickly. You’re still thinking with a twenty-first century view of medicine.” She dragged Mellissa into her office. “Even the common cold and cancer no longer require long-term
treatments. We’ve come a long way, Mellissa.”
“But what about the scarring on your arms and face?” The words slipped out before she could recall them.
Elara smiled. “Well,” she answered good-naturedly, “just like in your time, the sooner they are treated, the better the outcome. In my case, a considerable amount of time passed before I was rescued. They look a lot better than when Grayson found me. Now? They’re just a part of who I am and my experiences.”
Deep down, Mellissa thought that perhaps they still held Elara to a past she hated. She saw the bleakness that filled Elara’s eyes for a second, and she mentally kicked herself for causing Elara pain.
“So, how did Grayson and Duvall know where to find you?” Mellissa knew that she probably shouldn’t open that can of worms, but she had an inkling Elara needed to talk about it, remembering that brief flash.
“More by luck than design.” Elara’s face screwed up, her green eyes crinkling. “The guards got hungry and one went out to get food and forgot to lock the door. Grayson and Duvall patrolled the area and they had continued looking for me because my family knew Duvall’s foster family and they asked for his help. Neighbors had lodged complaints about weird noises coming from the warehouse where I and others were being held. They hadn’t been able to get in previously because the doors were locked, so Duvall and Grayson followed it up, and while they were watching one of the guards left. They crept in and found me with the other guard. Pretty simple really,” Elara said.
“So, Grayson stayed with me while Duvall called for a SurgiTeam, and I guess it all happened from there. I was sixteen at the time. I joined the EEA—” She grinned at Mellissa’s lost expression. “The Earth Empire Academy. That was at eighteen, and I entered SurgiTech training then. In time, when Grayson and I caught up, he found out what I was doing, and it kind of went from there. I could say it was fate, but I’ll let you in on a secret. I had always kept tabs on him, and we became friends who hung out together, because…well, because I wanted to thank him, and of course I thought he was something sweet. But the rest is a story for another day.” She grinned at that.
