And this pilot wanted to fly.
Chapter 3
The Discovery
“Why in the name of all things cosmic does 0600 come around so early?” Zander coughed out as he bolted upright in bed. Being back in his father’s extensive quarters made him smile. He’d grown up in this very room. All too soon, he’d have to leave it again. “A.I.: alarm off.”
The squealing halted. He tossed the thin cotton sheet to the floor and climbed out of the foam mattress bed. Stretching, he untied his hair and grunted at the hour. He worked better at night. On Omega’s team he’d done the evening shift. But orders were orders. He had to be in front of Commander Ashe by 0700.
He listened for sounds of his father, but the empty feeling of the place told him he was alone. “Theme: Night on Earth Prime -- Northwest Forest.”
The walls faded into velvety dark sky, dotted with diamonds. Wolves howling and owls cooing erupted across the room
He slung his water-resistant earpiece over his ear and entered the shower. A spray of cobalt streams crashed into his body, covering him with foam. In minutes, it vanished. A chilly glop of shampoo dropped onto his hair from the metallic tube. He briskly washed his hair and took the required amount of water to rinse. He closed his eyes to the harsh but somehow soothing blast of the shower’s skin dryer. He left the tiny circular shower to go to the mirror where he checked his face and shaved.
Somewhat refreshed, he dressed quickly in the standard gunmetal gray of the IGO body hugging uniform. He checked his reflection. He wanted to make a good impression, but he didn’t want to come off fulfilling the IGO uniform-model bullshit rumors either.
He exited his father’s quarters. Turning right, he headed to the cafeteria for a fast breakfast. His stomach churned, but he would eat. After years of transfers, he knew the first day on board always required fuel.
Zander grabbed a cup of hot, black coffee, whole oat toast with Martian jelly. He took them up the spiraling staircase until he reached the observation deck. Below him the low rumbling of conversations flowed. Hints of alcohol, roasted teas, and burnt coffee provided a crazy cocktail of aromas as late shift clashed with morning moodiness.
He sat cross-legged on the deck and stared out at the stars. He winced at the bite of Martian jelly and sipped his scalding coffee to chase off the spice.
Below him a dozen colonies worked to tame the harsh Martian environment. Tethered to the Mars outpost several thousand miles above the planet’s orange, arid surface, the spaceship remained distant from those trials of human endurance.
But it wouldn’t save him from the tests of endurance The Explorer had in store for him. He gritted his teeth. Let the bastards bring it.
After gulping down the last of his coffee, he turned to look at the growing number of identical uniforms the soldiers wore. The only differences ranged in color. His gunmetal marked him as a pilot, but a generic one. Once he got to his new spacecraft, they’d give him his midnight black one. Just like the fantastic creature threading through the throng.
She caught his eye, her ebony suit streaking like a rubber ball through the multicolored uniforms. That woman had the sexiest walk he’d ever seen. The statuesque beauty couldn’t be more than five feet six in her boots, but she more than made up for it in her attitude. Zander wanted to know where she worked on The Explorer. Then he caught himself and laughed. He didn’t need to know.
“You almost had me,” he whispered. He stood up. The rousing heat throbbing in his gut warned that the woman had snagged his hormones. He sighed, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from following her through the cafeteria. Entertaining her on any level would be unwise. Yeah, that gorgeous woman could cause him trouble. And he hadn’t even boarded his new spacecraft yet. Wonderful.
* * *
The Explorer
A breath before 0700 hours, Zander stood on the command floor of The Explorer with the weight of at least twenty pairs of eyes on him -- all senior members of the crew. He’d been allowed onto the spacecraft, with two beefy ebony-clad security detail following him. They stood off from him, hands positioned over their stunners ready for anything as a reason to fire.
Zander kept his attention ahead on the two metallic doors. Right at seven hundred, the doors parted like a silver river and he was escorted into the presence of a goddess.
“I’m Commander Ashe,” the husky-voiced beauty said, pinning him with icy green eyes. Blonde hair swept up into a tightly coiled bun made her appear taller. “Welcome, Pilot Reyes, to The Explorer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Come in. We have much to discuss.” She spun on her boot heel and stalked back to her chair. Over her shoulder, she said to the two goons, “Done, gentlemen.”
“Yes, ma’am!” they answered in complete sync.
Oh please. That seriousness made him antsy. In fact, everyone behaved a bit too stressed.
The closed door sliced off the curious glares. A long, slick gray table stretched the length of the room with five chairs dotted around it. A projection screen covered the wall at the table’s end.
Commander Ashe sat down in her chair at the far end of the room. She gestured to the woman seated to her right. “This is Sergeant Simmons. This is Pilot Reyes.”
The sergeant stood up and turned to face him. Her. Her ebony uniform skimmed a curvy body too wicked to ever be allowed in such a standard boring piece of clothing. She wore it like lingerie -- full of powerful femininity that somehow didn’t diminish her steeliness.
“Chief of security,” she said, extending her hand in offering.
When his hand covered hers, she jumped. It made him blink in surprise. Wow. A real red-hot wire this Simmons.
He shot her his practiced super-meltdown grin -- the one that made women melt into puddles at his boots. Sergeant Simmons didn’t smile. Her eyes bored into him and Zander had the feeling she looked through him, right to the rapid heartbeat she’d caused. He made himself meet her unflinching gaze and not allow the swell of her cleavage to trap him.
Commander Ashe interjected into the weighty silence, “Sergeant Simmons will be your direct supervisor, Pilot Reyes. As I am sure you’re aware, we’re on yellow alert. Your addition to the team at this time, well, we’ll make the best with what we have.”
“Ma’am?” he asked, yanking his eyes from the lovely sergeant. He coughed to clear the hunk of wow in his throat, trying to wrap his head around what his new commander had said. It might’ve been important.
Pilots didn’t usually report directly to the chief of security, but rather to a junior commander. Why would the commander place him in the direct line of serious temptation? Sergeant Simmons could melt butter in the frozen tundra on Saturn just by wearing a bikini. Her presence toyed with him in ways he had to struggle to fight off. Ashe paled by comparison.
He shook his head slowly from side to side. He had to stop mentally drooling about the security chief. Failure wasn’t an option for him. Everything rode on his performance -- his father’s reputation, his career, and his pride.
“You may not be aware, but we’re on an outgoing mission to the penal colony on Titan,” the commander explained, tenting her hands on the table. “We’re responsible for getting three convicted traitors there. The sergeant will handle your transition to the crew. Please be aware that your assignment onboard can be revoked under IGO regulation six-thirteen.”
“Yes, ma’am!” he answered so loudly both women winced. “Sorry, ma’am.”
“Your hair is longer than IGO standards,” Sergeant Simmons commented, giving him a long, searching look from the heel of his boots up to the top of his head. Her eyes seemed to touch him, arouse him, make him want to push her onto the sleek glossy table, unzip her uni and…
“IGO PH Regulation ten states that discrimination is strictly prohibited between female and male personnel,” he blurted out, hoping his superior officers couldn’t see his growing erection.
She nodded, and lifted her computerized pad. “Yes, but i
t’s a security risk,” she snapped in reply.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, feeling he’d pushed her hard enough. The sergeant sought a reason to dislike him. Well, his hair had always been a point of contention with the higher ups.
Commander Ashe’s eyes swung from him to the good sergeant. Did he imagine she smirked a bit at them? “Dismissed.”
“Follow me,” Sergeant Simmons said coldly, stalking out of the meeting room.
“Yes, ma’am.” With a round, tight bottom like hers though, he’d follow her to Pluto.
He longed to touch her just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. Her brunette hair was wound high above her head. A few playful strands had escaped and danced in the air -- a stark contrast to her steely demeanor.
No. That’s all hormones, not logic. The mental rebuke sobered him. He moved his attention -- with difficulty -- to his surroundings.
“That was the command floor,” Sergeant Simmons said as she entered the turbo lift. “I’ve arranged for your shift to commence at 0600, the same as mine. Your new uniform and quarters are located in the B-level of housing. Yours is B-1083. Use the craft’s GPS system or A.I. to get you there.”
He winced behind her, but didn’t say anything. She tossed orders to him without so much as a glance. Was she still mad about his hair?
“You, uh, won’t escort me, ma’am?” he asked before he’d even thought about how it sounded. He stood rigidly at attention as she rounded on him.
“Pilot Reyes, this ship isn’t your playground. I don’t give a damn that your father is a captain,” she said, hands firmly on her hips. “Got it? So halt the bullshit Romeo routine and get a haircut.”
So she was still mad! And he didn’t think it was about his hair. He crossed his arms over his wide chest. She exploded fast -- too fast. They’d just met so either she believed the bullshit about him or something else had her all riled up. “Permission to speak freely?”
“Granted,” she answered reluctantly.
“You must have heard things about me, ma’am.” Zander watched his new sergeant’s face for a reaction. “But you can’t believe everything. There are two sides to each tale. I know you’re aware of that as chief of security. I’m not trying to sleep with you. I apologize. I wasn’t trying to show you up in front of Ashe.”
“Commander,” the sergeant growled.
“Uh?” He frowned.
“Commander Ashe,” she said with great restraint.
“Oh, yeah, Commander Ashe.”
She smirked at him, shaking her head. “That’s the best you got? The rumors about you are shitty. I heard you were a real charmer. A lady killer.”
Zander caught himself before he rose to the bait. He nearly let it slip how when she licked her lips his cock twitched. Or when she spoke, the hairs on the nape of his neck rustled in arousal. But he didn’t. “As I said, ma’am, don’t believe everything you hear.”
She nodded. “A.I.: housing, Level B.”
“I apologize for the comment, ma’am.”
“Uh huh.” She proceeded to work. He watched her lean, dark fingers skip across the face of the pad. She relaxed into a casual stance, her work truly absorbing her attention.
He’d never been ignored by a woman like this. Zander didn’t quite know what to make of it. She smelled like crushed jasmines and lilacs. A strange aroma on a spacecraft. It stirred something deep inside him. Did she know she had this effect on men? On him?
The robotic A.I. announced, “Level B, housing.”
Sergeant Simmons rolled out of the turbo lift, parting three other ebony-clad soldiers without so much as a glance. He kept in place right behind her beautiful butt. It acted like a beacon. No way could he get lost.
Chapter 4
The Explorer
Shardae didn’t know why she’d escorted Zander to his quarters. He’d been on more than a dozen spacecrafts and spaceships. So, it wasn’t farfetched to expect that he’d be able to find his way. Why did she end up outside his single silver-toned door?
“B-1083,” she forced out in a bored tone. Zander’s smirk caused the hair to bristle on the back of her neck. The vivid verdant of his eyes caused her heart to buzz like an electric current in water. No electronic image she could find last night compared even remotely to the physical, breathing, hot-as-the-fucking-sun Zander Reyes in the flesh. “One bedroom, standard IGO issue, shower, electronic cube, and closet.”
Zander pressed his hand onto the release and waited while it traced his fingerprints.
“Identify resident,” the A.I. ordered. “Voiceprint initialing.”
“Zander Reyes, IGO number ZAR01280087.”
“Enter, resident, Zander Reyes,” the A.I. nearly cooed.
Shardae shook her head. Did every woman fall for him? Not that the A.I. was female, but someone had given it a real feminine trait. Her imagination spiraled out of control. She had to get her wits about her.
He stepped so close to her to enter his quarters that his nose almost brushed hers. He laughed -- short and rough, like he’d stopped it from growing into a full roar.
She flinched and immediately hated it. He wouldn’t ravish her, so why had she reacted that way? Heart thumping like a drum, she shot him a glare she hoped pierced right through his swollen arrogance.
“Lights,” Zander said.
Bright lights switched on, highlighting him. He walked about the room, inspecting it. Behind his eyes a locked loneliness flashed, but in a blink, a roll of confidence made her doubt she’d even seen it. He bore some resemblance to his father, but not much.
His gaze scrutinized her, but his expression remained blank, stoic. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Kindness softened his face.
The change in his demeanor took her aback.
“Much bigger than the one on The Challenger,” he said with a surprisingly shy grin. “Stylish, better sim console…”
Shardae frowned, but agreed. “Yes, I, I’m glad you like it.”
“Well, when you get bounced around as much as I do…” Zander started then trailed off. A veil fell over his features, closing off the brief glimpse into his inner thoughts.
How much of his behavior came from early conditioning at the hands of Captain Reyes? With a father like him, Zander probably learned to cloak his feelings quick. Pity. She liked the real Zander.
She squashed those warm, gooey thoughts.
“You start piloting first thing tomorrow.” She liked the view of him, but she knew that once he put on his ebony uni, it would make him irresistible -- to every female unattached and a few attached onboard. Already the crew buzzed about him. “For today, join Private Yazzie. You’ll find him in laundry until thirteen hundred. Then you head up to watch Pilot Bordeaux until shift is over.”
“Laundry?” Zander asked. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”
She walked out, leaving him alone. With teeth gritted and panties damp, she stalked swiftly down the corridor. Zander acted like doing laundry was beneath him. Yazzie didn’t like it either, but all except key personnel took a turn in the laundry quarters. The process only required monitoring. Boring? Yes! But she needed him someplace safe while she dealt with the prison transfer.
* * *
At 1030, Shardae faced her twenty-person security team. All male except for two, they’d been chosen for their combat, observation and swift decision-making skills. Hopefully those skills wouldn’t be put to the test on this next mission.
They stood in front of the bank of cells, ten on either side of the holding cells. She kept her face blank. “Barlow, Coppola, and Aoki,” she read from her computerized pad, “you’re to stand ready at checkpoints P1, P3, and P5. You’ll relieve The Inquiry personnel at each station, one at a time.”
She slid her finger up the screen; the digital page scrolled in response to her touch. A flash of Zander in ecstasy skipped across her mind. Would his cock be as sensitive to her touch?
She blew out her lusty longings and put her attention back on the job. “Positioned here, I w
ant Miller, McAffrey, Gray, and Yow to stand at each threshold interval. Stein and Berg, you’re on surveillance. Yazzie will join the rest of you on evening shift. Go get some sleep because you’re on duty at eight hour rotations, beginning tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am,” roared out in a chorus of affirmation.
“Dismissed,” she said, worry rumbling in her belly.
They scattered like leaves on the wind, each running to their post to fulfill their orders. She grinned at their enthusiasm.
“Sergeant,” gasped Private Yu, her cheeks scarlet, her breathing ragged. She pushed jet black bangs out of her narrowed eyes. “Come. Quick! Laundry is, well, you’re needed, ma’am.”
Shardae flinched and pressed the button on her earpiece. “Why didn’t you use the blue?”
Yu tapped her own earpiece. The tiny oval button lay dormant. “Commander Ashe’s orders were to leave all comms silent.”
Shardae started for the lift, a half step behind Yu, her anger uncoiling. Why hadn’t Ashe told her? Could be she thought she had, but with Zander’s arrival had forgotten. With teeth clenched, she shoved it out of her mind, but something must’ve given it away.
“The commander ordered the shutdown for non-emergency comms,” Yu explained softly. Her voice barely cleared the spacecraft’s hum. She watched Shardae with guarded curiosity tinged with fear.
The turbo lift’s door shut in a hush.
“And this isn’t an emergency?” Shardae asked, irritation marring her words.
Yu, clearly nervous, hesitated. “Uh, A.I: Level B, section four.”
“Private, I asked you a question.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Yu squeaked. Wringing her hands, she hunched against Shardae’s glare. “It’s the new pilot, ma’am.”
Zander. Somehow, Shardae knew it had something to do with him. Her gut burned.
“Level B, section four,” the A.I. announced.
IGO 2: Save for Shardae Page 2
