by Starr Struck
STARR STRUCK
And
BENEATH A MILLION STARS
By
Stephanie Bedwell-Grime
© copyright by Stephanie Bedwell-Grime, April 2005
Cover Art by Eliza Black, © copyright April 2005
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
STARR STRUCK
Diamond points of light glowed through shimmering fog, turning the dance floor into a silver wonderland. Swirling through the glittering mist was surely as close to dancing among the stars as one could get. It conjured memories of the gentle sway of a man's body against hers. It seduced her mind with recollections of velvet kisses that escalated into heated passion, the way his body melded against hers as perfectly as it had on the dance floor....
With a frown, Adriana dragged her thoughts back to the present. The sparkling mist and the stars were no more than a convincing illusion courtesy of the hidden special effects generator imported for her best friend's wedding.
She stared into her reflection in the panoramic window, strains of a familiar melody receding into the background. Their song. Not exactly what she wanted to hear at Zelina's wedding. But the disk jockey couldn't possibly have known. A year later even the opening bars of that song could send tears cascading down her face.
Say for today that you are mine
Before the night comes between us.
For I can't say when next we'll meet--
The love of open space
Forever binds me.
But I'll see your face
In every passing star
As I look out upon eternity,
And I'll hear your voice
In the silence of the night
When loneliness reaches out
To haunt me.
They had danced their last dance here in the ballroom at Rendezvous Space Station, the night before Quillan went missing. Adriana sharply reined in her thoughts. She was the honor attendant at her best friend's wedding. And regardless of the ghosts in her recent past, it was her duty to make sure Zelina's special day was a success. A bridesmaid with heartache written across her face simply wouldn't do.
Forcing a smile, she stared through the huge window. The Rendezvous Ballroom had the best view in the galaxy. Terraced gardens stretched out below, aglow with synthetic candlelight. Couples were scattered throughout the gardens, taking advantage of the subdued lighting. A smile crept across her face. Weddings, no matter on which planet, brought out the romantic in everyone.
Every race in the galaxy was represented on the guest list, evidence of the success of the father of the bride as an intergalactic merchant. Opal lilies sprouted from every table not occupied with food. Sculptures of Antarean ice towered above the banquet table. A strolling minstrel wove his way through the garden, his Octarian harp leaving behind the scent of sky-blue-pink roses to augment his poignant melody.
In the midst of it all, Zelina shone like a star. Her shimmering dress reflected a waterfall of color as she moved. Her eyes positively glowed with the kind of joy only brides could radiate. When the groom gazed upon his new bride, his face positively lit up with delight.
The quiet gardens drew her attention back to the window. Within the dark synthi-glass an image began to form. Faint and ethereal, it took a moment to recognize the jewel-green eyes staring back at her from the glass. Those incredible eyes, framed by blond curls could only belong to Quillan Starr. With a cry, she whirled to face him.
But the floor behind her was empty.
Trembling, she turned very slowly back to the window. But the synthetic glass revealed only the panoramic view of the garden and the station. It couldn't have been Quillan, she told herself sternly. Quillan was long gone. Adriana stared suspiciously at the empty wine glass in her hand.
Must be the wine.
In trying to squelch the memories, she'd perhaps drunk more than she should. The wine and the tangle of emotions this day invoked were what had her conjuring images of Quillan Starr, the man who'd walked out of her life and taken her heart with him.
It was too easy to sink into the memory of his caress, the way his powerful arms felt so right around her. His daring nature brought out the courage in her. He'd encouraged her to become more than she was. Reflected in his adoring eyes, she had felt confident ... beautiful. Prompted by the phantom in the glass, her mind supplied the rest of the details: golden curls that tumbled over his shoulders in an unruly wave, full lips, far too sensual for the hard masculine lines of his face. As Adriana well remembered, he had a smile that could charm the devil.
He'd charmed even the cynical hyperdrive specialist. Charmed her, stolen her heart and then disappeared without a trace. Since then, she'd given up on arrogant pilots. Her new life went on just fine without a man, she'd decided. At least it was predictable. Predictably boring. Setting down her glass on the nearest table, she headed for the ladies room.
The relative quiet of the sleek white cubicle was soothing. The stark lighting and heavy makeup conspired to make her skin appear even paler than usual. Delicate pearls flickered in a cloud of crimson hair, held in place by spray she was sure could double as spaceship hull adhesive. She tucked a curl that had somehow escaped the stylist's attentions behind her ear and prepared herself to return to the party.
Familiar green eyes met hers. A startled cry burst from her lips.
Adriana sprang backward, colliding with the bathroom's cool metal wall. For several seconds she could do no more than stare in disbelief at the ghostly figure in the mirror.
It was Quillan all right. But instead of the adoring gaze she remembered so well, his face was tormented.
Haunted.
Golden curls fanned out from his face in a burnished mane. Even the hard planes of his cheeks were strained as if he fought against a powerful wind. Strong hands struck out before him like claws as he battled against the gale that threatened to toss him into oblivion. His mouth moved, shaping her name.
Then something else.
In rapt amazement, she managed to decipher the first syllable, "Tel--"
Like the afterimage of a bright flash, he faded slowly from view, leaving her to stare back into her own bewildered expression in the mirror.
"Quillan--" She reached for his disappearing image in the mirror, brushing her fingertips against the cold barrier of the glass.
What the stars am I doing?
Beneath her fingers the mirror offered only the reflection of her own hand.
Losing my mind, came the answer.
Could visiting Rendezvous Station for the first time since Starr left unhinge her completely?
Nonsense, the rational part of her brain supplied. I'm a hyperdrive specialist. I'm responsible for quality assurance on light speed engines in an entire sector of the galaxy. I speak ten languages. I've seen things that would make a grown man cringe. I didn't think there was anything in known space that could unhinge me....
The thought trailed off into frightening notions. Was she going crazy?
Certainly she missed Starr. She'd loved him with all her heart. Adriana felt the wound of his betrayal as keenly as if it were only yesterday. But in the months since his disappearance she'd thrown herself into her work, and she had prospered. She now oversaw shipyards on space stations from Rigel to Malvar and everywhere in between.
"If this is some kind of joke...." Her voice echoed off the metal walls of the empty cubicle. "It isn't funny," she finished quietly.
Feeling increasingly foolish with each passing second, she inspected the walls, even the space behind the sanitary facilities. But except for the ventilation shaft and the door, the metal cubicle was without seams. And the toilet didn't conceal anything that could be used as projection equipment.
Adriana leaned against the cool metal and shut her eyes. In her mind's eye she could still see Quillan calling to her, his lips tracing that last syllable, "Tel--"
"Tell me what?" she whispered. "That you're sorry?"
* * * *
"You're cutting it too close," she'd told him on that last day. "What if you get waylaid?"
Quillan had only laughed in that easygoing manner of his. "Stop worrying. A week is more than enough time to make it to Malvar and back. Besides," he'd added playfully. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride until the wedding."
But the day before the wedding, Starr still wasn't back at Rendezvous Station. By the morning of the ceremony Adriana was sick with worry. Even when the wedding date had come and gone, still she hoped that it was all a big mistake, that he'd simply been held up.
Then came the news that Starr's ship, The Needle, had been in dock for the past week. And Quillan Starr was nowhere to be found.
He'd always been reckless, old friends assured her. They were surprised this romance had lasted at all. Rumor had it that Quillan Starr left a galaxy of heartbreak in his wake.
Adriana shook her head to clear it of the thoughts that even now hovered dangerously beneath her calm exterior. Zelina's wedding and the coincidence in the dates had turned her thoughts to Quillan. She was tired from the trans-galaxy flight. Once the good-byes were said, she could gratefully retire to her room, sleep off the wine and make a fresh start tomorrow.
Still there was something in that ghostly tortured face, be it vision or delusion, that was so unlike the overconfident Quillan she remembered, it chilled her.
* * * *
She was dreaming, she knew it even as she stared at the stars careening by on The Needle's view screen. Starr had vanished; his ship had been impounded. There was no way she could be on the bridge of The Needle. And then with the cinematic ease of dreams, her surroundings changed and she found herself in the cramped cabin Starr jokingly called the Captain's Quarters.
Strong arms closed around her, pulling her close. There was barely room for both of them on the bunk. His hot mouth covered hers, blocking out the need for thought or breath.
Starr always did know how to end an argument. And had they argued! But neither her pleas nor her threats had succeeded in convincing Starr to change his plans for a last run to Malvar before their wedding.
"Everything will be fine, you'll see," he'd assured her, first with words, then with gentle kisses that soon degenerated to an octopus of fumbling hands.
Within minutes their flight suits lay in a puddle of cloth on the metal floor, and Quillan was devoting the sum of his attention to convincing her to see the situation his way. As usual he tempted her in a way she couldn't resist. Pleasantly sated from their lovemaking, she'd found it hard to object.
Yet, in some foggy pocket of her mind, she knew it hadn't happened that way at all. The dream was all mixed up, as if her memories had been thrown into a giant blender. The argument had taken place in her hotel room on Rendezvous Station. Starr had left the next morning. Against her wishes. In spite of her tears.
You can keep your kisses, Quillan, because you didn't come back.
She wanted to tell him that. At the moment it seemed desperately important. But the dream stole the thought from her. Starr's tongue mingled with hers, destroying all hope of conversation. He moved, surprisingly agile in the restrictions of his narrow bunk, gathering her under him. He showered her shoulders in a hot rain of kisses. Adriana gasped as he took the peak of one breast in his mouth. Her hands tangled in his golden curls as she pulled his head harder against her.
"Let's not argue, Riana," he whispered as he moved to taste her other breast. "We do have the rest of our lives...."
His tortuous mouth dipped lower, covering her smooth abdomen with a trail of kisses that led to the already moist spot between her thighs. Adriana moaned, maneuvering herself as well as she could in the tight confines to receive more of those ecstatic kisses.
He moved then, covering her body with his own. She felt his erection pressing against her moist opening and she knew he wanted this as much as she did. Their mouths met as he entered her. She felt the pleasant tightness as her body stretched to accommodate him. She groaned in impatience as he withdrew and then pressed gently deeper.
But suddenly he was pulling away from her, fading into the misty layers of sleep. She grasped after his receding form, finding only air where her fingers had been laced through the softness of his riotous curls. Looking up at the shiny metal of the cabin above her, she saw him reflected in the chrome.
"Help me...." She heard his voice as certainly as if he'd whispered in her ear.
"Where are you Quillan?!" The walls threw her voice sharply back at her. "What's wrong, what do I do?"
For a second she saw his face, still faintly reflected back at her in the shiny metal. "Tele--" she thought he said.
"Quillan, no!" she screamed. Her fingertips brushed the smooth metal surface. Helplessly, she watched as his image faded until she was looking into the reflection of her own amber eyes.
* * * *
Adriana sat up, a scream dying on her lips. The Needle's interior dissolved into her dream, leaving only the unfamiliar surroundings of the strange hotel room on Rendezvous Station.
She rubbed impatiently at the streak of tears drying on her face. What's wrong with me? Why am I dreaming of Quillan? Why now after all this time?
He was trying to tell her something. "Tele--" Even now she could hear his voice in her mind. "Tele--what?" she wondered desperately.
But the night had no answers for her.
* * * *
The intercom beeped, jarring her from the heavy depths of sleep.
"Subspace transmission incoming," the computer informed her. Still half asleep, Adriana pressed the receive button. Zelina's concerned face blinked onto the screen before her.
"Hey Zelina, you're supposed to be on your honeymoon. Don't you have anything better to do?" Adriana asked playfully.
"I was worried about you. You didn't seem yourself last night."
"I'm tired, that's all." She tried to inject some lightness into her voice. Above all she didn't want to worry her best friend on her honeymoon.
"It's him, isn't it?" Zelina asked, with the bluntness only a best friend could get away with.
"Don't be silly. It's like I said, I'm just a little worn out from working so hard."
"Nonsense. I know that look. You had it for months after he left."
"Zelina, please!" Adriana did her best to sound righteously indignant. The last thing she wanted to do was to have a subspace conversation about Quillan Starr. The call must be costing a fortune as it was. Having been friends since they were children, Zelina had a sixth sense when it came to Adriana's moods. If she wasn't careful, she'd have Zelina playing long distance psychiatrist. "Can't we discuss this when you're back from your honeymoon?"
Once on the scent of Adriana's distress, Zelina was not so easy dissuaded. "Are you sure you're all right? I can always teleport back...."
"Are you crazy? You're about to embark on a week's honeymoon on the most expensive pleasure planet this side of Orion and all you can think of is getting back to Rendezvous Station? If you aren't happy with your accommodations, I'd be happy to trade places with you."
There was a long pause. Zelina regarded her suspiciously. "Okay," she said finally. "See you in a week."
By then I'll have myself back together.
With a deep sigh, she lay back on the bed and called to the room's computer for light.
I must really look like I need help if Zelina wants to teleport home.... The thought lingered in her mind, resonating with something els
e she'd recently heard.
Teleport. Tele-port. Tele.
A blast of cold air from the room's ventilation system shot down her spine. She pulled the blankets snugly around her shoulders. Could the ghost of Quillan Starr actually be trying to tell her something about the teleporter?
"What are you trying to tell me, Starr?" she asked the empty room.
No one answered her.
It was too much to think about before breakfast. Zelina's father was throwing a morning-after brunch to celebrate his daughter's marriage. Since she was practically family, she was obligated to attend.
* * * *
An hour later, Adriana was hurrying through the bright corridors of Rendezvous Station, intent on finding the restaurant Zelina's father had chosen. Ahead, silver doors whooshed open and a pair of Xubians came gibbering out, eyestalks waving vigorously. While it looked to be a furious altercation, she couldn't help hiding a smile. The pair were quite obviously lovers. It was a strange law of the universe that only the people you cared deeply for could make you so angry. She was about to continue on her route, when the flashing red sign above the Xubians' heads caught her attention.
TELEPORTER STATION.
Suddenly the fragments of the dream she had tried to bury in the depths of her mind leapt to the forefront.
"Help me," he'd begged her. Starr had gone missing here on Rendezvous Station nearly a year ago. The first vestiges of doubt echoed in her mind. Could it be he hadn't balked at the thought of lifelong commitment after all, that something terrible had happened to him instead?
Starr's ship had been found in dock, his cargo undelivered. Had Starr's reputation of being footloose and fancy-free prevented the authorities from looking into the circumstances of his disappearance and solving of the mystery?
What had possessed him to take a last minute teleporter trip? Where could he possibly have been going with his ship sitting on dock, full of a cargo he insisted was an urgent delivery?
