Half-Alien Warfighter (Lady Hellgate Book 3)

by Greg Dragon

  Both she and Cilas had been rewarded for their service, and should have been celebrating their promotions, but it had come at the cost of their relationship, which was a bitter pill to swallow. They talked it out and she had cried herself to sleep until he woke her up with one last kiss before leaving to meet the Nighthawks.

  Now he wished she was here to remind him that he deserved this position. He had three Nighthawks, loyal, and talented enough to keep the Ursula afloat, and he was about to meet the Alliance council, a crucial step on the road to becoming the top man on a starship.

  “Idle thoughts are for civilians,” he reminded himself, then forced his body up and out of the CIC area of the bridge. He took a slow stroll down the narrow passageway towards the Ursula’s stern, listening to the click of his boot heels as they made contact with the deck. The drone of the engines and the occasional beeps from the terminals became therapy for his wayward mind, and he began to embrace the solitude.

  He stopped where the passageway opened up to a space with eight seated stations. They were meant for communications and tactical action, but would be vacant for a time. He had never seen a layout like the Ursula’s, where there were no doors on the command deck. The passageway he walked was literally a bridge spanning the ship from bow to stern. On each side, recessed into the deck, were stations with monitors, or lifts to travel down to the dock. Cilas tried to imagine the Ursula fully staffed with crewmembers, and it dawned on him again how out of place he felt as the captain.

  “Still up?” came a voice, and he turned to see Helga Ate in a crop top and shorts. He wasn’t used to her being this casual, even when they were on Aurora tossing back drinks, and his eyes found her midriff, which was lean and spotted, like her face.

  “Ate, what are you still doing up? You more than the three of us need the rest.”

  “I came to sleep at the controls. The chair is nicer than my bed,” she said. “Did you come down for a snack, or have you been up this whole time?”

  “Do you need to ask?”

  “Cilas,” she said, sounding concerned. “What’s there to worry about now?”

  He beckoned her to join him as he strolled towards the mess, walking past the medbay and the head. She took a seat at one of the five tables, and he went to the counter, grabbed a bottle, and poured two glasses of glittery, yellow liquid.

  “What’s that? It looks exotic,” she said.

  “Some sort of celebratory wine that someone left here for us. Q and Ray aren’t here, so it’s ours for the occasion.” He sat down across from her and she smiled when he handed her a glass. “Here’s to Cage, Cruser, Brafa, Wyatt, and Varnes,” he said, then threw it back before waiting for her to concur.

  “Thype, Cilas, why did you have to remind me of that?” she whispered. “So many deaths, and Ray getting shot on Meluvia. We could have lost him, and you.”

  “You got shot too, don’t forget that. Q was the only one to get out unscathed until this business with the dreadnought. That’s the job, though, Helga. It stinks, but the good times are what we should focus on.”

  Helga nodded and took a sip, then nodded her approval before draining the glass. “Horne Wyatt, what a schtill, right?” she said, placing her feet up on one of the chairs.

  “Helga,” Cilas said, looking surprised.

  “What? He was a schtill, the bastard. He made me question my right to be a Nighthawk then had the nerve to show me he cared. Saved my life with that shield of his. I was such a sap, couldn’t get anything right.”

  “Now look at you. Lady Hellgate,” Cilas said, and though she hated the moniker, she gave him a smile. “They all would be proud of you, how fast you’ve caught up. Especially Cruser—”

  “Can we not? It still hurts to remember, and I want to sleep tonight.”

  “Apologies. I know you didn’t come up here to dig up old ghosts.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence as they sat together, thinking of the Nighthawks. He wanted to say more, but feared that he would only reopen wounds. There was also the outfit and the way she looked outside of her uniform. Her bare foot was on his boot, and he didn’t know if she knew it or thought that it was the leg of the table. Either way he found himself excited, and was torn between running or giving in to his feelings and reaching out for her hand.

  “Mind if we go up to see your cabin?” Helga said, not meeting his gaze as she swirled the last bit of liquid inside her glass.

  “Right now?” he said. She had caught him completely off guard, and when she nodded, his normally controlled heart rate escalated.

  He thought of the times in the past when they had come close to kissing. First it was inside the escape pod, when hope was lost, and the two of them stood looking out that sole porthole at the growing Geralos fleet. He had held her hand then, more for support than anything intimate, but the way she had warmed to him after that first contact had tempted him to tilt her head up and initiate a kiss.

  Then there was the Meluvian jungle, when they were alone on a tower, waiting for Quentin Tutt. It would have happened then—and she was as ready for it as he was—but then Raileo Lei had shown up, and they were forced to separate.

  Cilas expected Raileo to pop up now, and a part of him was counting on it. Though he was no longer with Joy, he still loved her enough to think this was too soon, and he didn’t want to start something with Helga that would complicate his relationship with the Revenant.

  Helga reached for his hand and pulled him up to his feet, then led him out of the mess hall to the lift. This has to be a dream, he thought as he watched her posterior, swaying with every graceful step. I fell asleep on that chair on the bridge and I am now dreaming. That has to be it.

  When they got to the top he took the lead and opened the door. It slid up to reveal the luxurious captain’s quarters. “Planets,” Helga whispered, then released his hand to run inside the compartment.

  “Helga,” Cilas said suddenly. “Come here for just one moment.”

  She obeyed his command and walked back to where he stood and he took her gently by the waist. He knew there would be fireworks before their lips touched, but when they did all his conventions were lost, and all he wanted in that moment was to feel her.

  Lips locked, and tongues teasing and dancing at last, she placed her arms about his neck and threw her legs around his waist. Now perched so that they were level, eye to eye, she held his head and kissed him as he walked her to the bed. She made to remove his coat, but he stopped her and caressed her cheek. “Where does this go?” he whispered, still touching at her face, loving how her Casanian spots accented her slender jawline.

  “We give each other happiness for a few brief moments … hopefully not too brief,” Helga managed, “Then you let me know if you would like for me to stay or leave. Either way, you’ll still be Cilas—my commander, and I’ll be Helga, your hard-headed number two.”

  He forced a chuckle and she joined him until he laid her on the bed and ran his thumb over her forehead, feeling the texture of her spots. She smelled of sweet lotion, and her eyes were galaxies beckoning with need. He threw off his coat and stripped down to his undershirt, then leaned down to use his mouth to explore her slender, muscular body.

  She purred as his fingertips went from her clavicle to her bicep, then down to her forearm and fingertips. When their palms came in contact, their fingers interlocked, and he slid in beside her, kissing her neck.

  All the angst of command now seemed a distant memory as he shared his space with the overly eager Nighthawk. She appeared to thrive off his touches, her thighs pressing together as she arched her back slightly, and when his hand slipped between her legs, she closed her eyes and said something that sounded like, “Don’t stop.”

  She pulled her shirt off as he pleasured her, and the spots about her navel became more pronounced. He placed his free hand beneath her, feeling the heat of her lower back as she writhed with his caresses, and his mouth found hers once again, muting her moans as he explored her flesh. />
  “I love your stomach,” he said softly, though he wasn’t sure if she even heard him. He took his time in this manner, a luxury that he never had with Joy, who wanted sex the way she wanted her drink: quick, spontaneous, and dangerous. Helga was different, which was ironic, considering how easy she could turn up the hurt whenever the situation warranted it. Yet, here she was with him, and he wanted nothing more than to make her happy.

  When it was time she urged him up, and the kiss from before was nothing compared to their union. He let her lead, and she guided him inside her with the confidence of an admiral bringing her vessel to dock. When it was over they lay side by side, staring up at the overhead, which was a circular depression of transparent hull displaying the distortion of the shields during maximum thrust.

  It had been an “out-of-body” experience, as if he’d ingested strong spice and several shots of liquor. Helga placed a warm hand on his abdomen, and they lay there for a long time in silence. He eventually had to check if she’d fallen asleep, and was surprised to see her wide awake, staring up into space.

  “Not that I didn’t enjoy this, Cilas, but a part of me thinks we thyped up,” she said. “You’re my commander and I’m a Nighthawk. If Captain Sho knew we did this, I would be off this team, and on a squadron running patrols for the rest of my career.”

  Cilas pushed himself up to an elbow and examined the worried lines of her face. “Helga, this is a good thing, you and I. It’s also our business, so who has to know about it? We keep so many secrets; why can’t we have one of our own?”

  She seemed to think this over, but her forehead suddenly creased and she shook her head. He could tell that she was having a hard time inside her skull, and wasn’t trusting him to know what she guarded.

  “I knew this would happen eventually,” she said. “We came close so many times that I was about to corner you on the Rendron and rip off all your clothes. Even with Joy in the picture, I was prepared to deal with the consequences. But now I feel bad. She—”

  “That isn’t Joy,” Cilas said, trying to talk her down from her anxiety. “She was very casual about sex. She has never been good about one human claiming ownership over another.”

  “I know, but it’s not like I don’t have feelings. I thought this would make them stop, but I feel the same, and that would be enough to have her worried.”

  “Let’s not talk about it now. You have my word that I won’t hurt you. All we have is time until Sanctuary, and who knows, you may grow bored of me.”

  “The man thinks I’ll let him do it again,” she said out loud, giving him a mischievous smile, and he touched her face and brought her in for a kiss. “If this had gone down on Meluvia, I think we would have been in trouble. That run through the village, when we were pinned down and practically dead… it took a lot to leave you there, Cilas. I doubt that I could ever do that now.”

  “You could, and you will.”

  Helga shrugged. “Have you ever known me to be good with letting things be?”

  “I know that you’re selfless, and though the mission comes first, we are supposed to care for one another, Helga Ate. When I asked you and Ray to leave me inside that house, you both objected but did as you were commanded. What does this change, really? You pushing harder for me to concoct a better plan?”

  “I don’t know. This is just really intimate. Just look at us; my head’s on your chest, and I’m debating whether to push you down for more.” She laughed.

  “I’m here to serve,” he said, spreading his arms, and she slapped him on his abdomen, causing him to flinch.

  “I may speak out of turn, touch you, and Quentin will know … you know just how perceptive that Nighthawk is.”

  “How can I convince you that we can do this?” Cilas said. “Be professionals while letting our friendship go as far as we want to take it? Helga, I’ve wanted you from the time we were together inside that pod, but Brise Sol was there, and had I tried, he would have been jealous and that would have been disastrous for the two of us. He too was into you. Do you know that? But he hated me, so I kept my distance.”

  “Brise is my friend, Cilas.”

  “Just like you are my friend, Helga. Can’t friends give each other warmth and happiness without letting suppositions thype it up?”

  “I should go,” she said suddenly, sitting up and reaching for her clothes. “The boys have had enough excitement since we left the Rendron, and I don’t need them waking to see me exiting your cabin. Cilas, I’m so sorry, but I need some space to think.”

  “Take your time,” he said, caressing her back as she sat up.

  “Bye, Cilas,” she said, standing up quickly and grabbing her shorts from off the deck.

  He made to say more, but she was gone before he could ask her to stay. He wondered if she was right about it being a mistake, but even if it was, he hoped that things wouldn’t be different between the two of them.

  24

  On the official first cycle of the Ursula’s voyage, Helga spent the majority of her time pouring through documentation on the anatomy of the ship. To the other Nighthawks, she was doing what any good pilot would be doing when given the controls of a vessel, but what they didn’t realize was that she was studying to keep her mind occupied.

  The launch had gone smoothly and they were now at maximum thrust, but what bothered her were the events of the last night, and the possibility that she had jeopardized her career. It was an interesting dilemma, this caring about her future when just last year she wasn’t sure if she’d see an eighteenth birthday.

  The promotion had changed her; she was now a lieutenant with a direct line to Captain Retzo Sho. If there was any indication that an officer’s star would rise, it was everything that had happened to her since surviving the mission on Dyn.

  After several hours she took a break and reclined with her feet up on the console. She was feeling warmer than usual, and with the Nighthawks being the crew, she was comfortable in relaxing here, where she got lost in a daydream of her youth.

  “Credit for your thoughts,” Raileo said, plopping down in the vacant seat off to her right. Helga realized that her position could be viewed as suggestive, so she put her feet down. She met his gaze with suspicion. Did he know? And how would he have found out, if that was what he was getting at? Aside from a polite greeting when they had woken up, she really hadn’t spoken to any of the men.

  “You have two choices, Raileo Lei,” she said, setting her face with the coldest of glares. “You can either tell me what’s behind that schtill-eating grin, or I can try out this new armlock that Tutt showed me.”

  His face became grave and he stood up. “Whatever I did, Ate, I’m sorry. You just looked like you had something on your mind, and you normally share so … and now you’re upset and I’m stuck on what I can now do to fix it.”

  I’m projecting again, Helga thought. It was the worst part of playing at being secretive. There was always this uncertainty of people’s intentions when weighed against her own self-doubt. Raileo had always been supportive and kind, but he was also playful, and what happened between her and Cilas would’ve been an open opportunity for him to poke fun.

  She grabbed his collar and pulled him so close that their noses were practically touching. “It’s too early, Nighthawk, and you saw me studying, so don’t go being upset with me, eh?”

  “Never that, Ate, no harm done, but I will be getting you some coffee for that mood.”

  She made to kick him, but he was already off, and a flashing light appeared on the HUD. “Looks like it’s go time. Rendron has cleared us to jump,” she announced, then leaned forward and touched the controls to receive the decoded transmission.

  A woman’s voice, artificial yet pleasant to the air, said, “Approaching light speed in fifteen seconds.”

  Helga glanced around quickly, for someone—anyone—to share her excitement. “Our Ursula has a voice,” she said, laughing. “She sounds like an old Vestalian mom.” She was so excited that she missed
the shift as the FTL pulsed to alter space around the ship.

  “Ursula is now at light speed,” the voice announced, and Helga pulled off her restraints and stood up to see who else was on the bridge. She saw that Cilas had come down and was now in his chair, so she made to sit to avoid the awkwardness.

  “Ursula does have a nice voice,” he said, laughing. “Do you think she knows her name?”

  “I’m sure she does,” Helga said, then tested her theory by issuing a command. “Ursula, please repeat your last command. I didn’t seem to hear you.”

  “Ursula is now at light speed,” repeated the voice, and Helga reacted with a tiny clap of excitement.

  “That’s remarkable,” Cilas said. “Does it only respond to the pilot?”

  “It’s artificial intelligence, Cilas, so I think it picks up on our intonation and intent. I’ve been reading up on it, and she will be learning our voices, roles, and dare I say, inflections.”

  “Will it pick up on sarcasm? She’s going to have a hell of a time with you if she can’t.”

  “Funny, but you might want to be careful poking fun at me, Captain Mec. I am, after all, her first point of contact, and can set up certain protocols.”

  “Captain Mec.” He repeated the words as if he was deeply offended by them. “Since I am captain that means that anything you try could be countered by my command. Do you really want to play this game?”

  Helga considered it but backed down when she remembered Cilas’s stories about the cadet academy. He could be just as dangerous a prankster as he was a warrior, and she really didn’t want any part of it. She threw up her hands in defeat and got up to make for the mess. “Where is Tutt, do you know?” she said, when she was almost near the exit.

  “Below deck, busy with something,” he said, dismissively. “What makes you ask?”

  “I’m concerned that I may have offended him. He’s been distant ever since we were given this mission. No, he’s been different since he went on the dreadnought with those Marines. He hasn’t said much—well, there was the time I visited him in medbay, but that was so many cycles back. Feels like I haven’t seen him since we boarded.”