Dana Cartwright Mission 2: Lancer (17 page)

“He held back one of his lieutenant-commanders from killing me right on the spot.

“You will do well as a translator,” the senior officer told me.

“His name was Kelleran. He told me how his two cousins had infiltrated Star Service security and were returning with codes and information to rendezvous with him on this miserable excuse for a planet, where the two surgically altered men would replace the first two and return to our Star Service to do more of the same. He wanted that info. It was somewhere in the rubble of the crashed craft.

“He decided to use us to get at it. Somewhere in the debris was an indestructible data disk. ‘Find it!’ He commanded.

“I knew if I stalled long enough and the ship got no response from us, the Captain would send someone looking.

“So, I rounded up my ground party officers and told them to keep on digging with the intent of finding the damned disk. It would keep us all alive, at least, a little while longer.

“I told Kelleran that my arm was fractured and I was suffering sun exposure. If I could tend McHale’s wound, he might be useful.

“McHale was aware of the situation but had lost a lot of blood. He kept telling me to ‘wing it, partner.’ Wing it? I didn’t know what he meant. He started feebly digging through the wreckage with the others and I made a good attempt at looking like I was accomplishing something, too. I started throwing all sorts of trash aside, all the while moving away from the rest of the ground party. Kelleran had one of his men covering me.

“I was digging under the wing of the shuttle, in the shade, when it hit me what McHale might have meant. The wing storage compartments were almost always used to store personal gear. If I found that gear, I might also find a weapon and possibly the data disk.

“By that time, with the midday sun baking us, my face must have glowed, since I sunburn so easily. I kept at it and found what I wanted. I called Kelleran over.
 

“I think I’ve got your…” I broke off. Well, I’d found a body, badly decomposed, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to dig under it. Kelleran pushed me aside and while he inspected the corpse, I noticed all the others watched him and not me.

“I made my move, smashed the nearest guard, grabbed his weapon, and got off two good clean shots before the Castellans had a chance to react. McHale jumped the third guard and disabled Kelleran with that weapon.

“I heard the sound of a MAT pod and six of our security officers materialized close by, coming to the rescue.

“McHale and I got decorated for retrieving the data and saving the day. His knees still bother him and he often refuses ground party duty because of it. It’s a fair enough request from the man that saved my life.
 

“We were debriefed by SSID. That data disk could have blown the cover on twenty or more of our Star Service spies operating undercover in that sector. Catching Kelleran proved to be incredibly fortunate. He was the key man to over a dozen Castellan and human-hybrid spies in the Star Service.”

Macao glanced over at Dana Cartwright, to be certain she understood his meaning. “Now you know why the idea of spies aboard
Lancer
is particularly disturbing to me.”

Dana stared forward. “Our spy isn’t Castellan, sir, nor a hybrid. He’s a Star Service officer. That makes him far more dangerous.”

“Yes,” Macao muttered, “but if I’m right, he’s going to make a mistake and give himself away very soon.”

Dana frowned, looking to him for a further explanation.

Macao merely said, “Let’s wait a few more minutes before you fly us home.” He lounged back comfortably in the copilot’s seat, closing his eyes again to rest.

She sank back in the pilot’s chair. “Do you have history with other members of
Lancer
’s command crew?”

He chuckled. “Actually, yes, I do.”

“Jay Gordon?”

Macao nodded.

“Sam Ehrmann?”

“Dana, you’re giving me a headache.”
 

“I have a cure for headaches,” she reminded.

“I do, too. Is that why you pushed me away? It’s just the two of us; permission to speak freely.”

“We would regret it,” she answered simply, “that about sums it up.”

He remained silent for a time. “You don’t enjoy such pleasures? Or do you prefer other women?”

“No, sir, I don’t lean that direction,” Dana quickly countered.
 

“Then why?”

“My heart’s been broken,” she admitted honestly, “and it took a long time to heal.”

Janz Macao nodded. “Ah…so you are gun shy?”

“Let’s just say I’m cautious.” She busied herself with navigational calculations. “We’re expending battery power. Would you like an update on…”

“I’d like you to do that headache treatment, if you don’t mind.” He extended his left hand.

She released the lap bar, got up from the pilot’s seat and stood beside him, taking a hold of his hand, exerting pressure between the thumb and first finger. “This is the elbow that was fractured?”

He nodded.
 

She touched a place on his upper arm and he winced. “You may have some residual nerve damage. You are left handed?”

“Ambidextrous.”

She pressed upon his left shoulder blade and got a similar reaction, then upon a place on his neck, just above his uniform shirt collar.

“Fane! Stop!”

She released the pressure and began to massage the area.

“Who taught you this?”

“I studied…”

“EMTs don’t learn this sort of thing,” he protested.

“…Alphan anatomy and physiology,” she reminded, expanding the area being massaged to include his neck and shoulders. “Your muscles are very tight. Is there no masseuse aboard?”

“I may add it to your job description…well-done…I could get used to this,” Macao muttered, closing his eyes, enjoying her touch more than he dared admit. “Your file says you were an eye doctor and a surgeon. You shouldn’t have changed careers…”

“I had to, sir. The suicide…” She stopped speaking, though her fingers still pressed deeply massaging his neck to relieve the tension in the muscles.

“Go on,” he coaxed.

“I told you about an emergency, a suicide…self-inflicted wounds.”

“The wrist scars…I’ve never heard of an empath manifesting such wounds.”

“I felt everything; I saw her…mate die. It tore me up inside,” Dana admitted. “However, I had been thinking about leaving medicine for some time. Everyone kept pushing me towards being a professor and teaching. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but it wasn’t that.”

He sensed a wave of emotion; that he’d touched a deep wound. “I’m sorry…” He got up from the chair and pulled her against his chest, “sorry I pressured you.”

Just the idea of suicide troubled him.

“I’m sorry…” He brought his lips down to hers, for a very gentle kiss.
 

She turned her face away.

“When we get back, let’s order dinner and just be friends. I won’t pressure you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.” He massaged her back, feeling the tension in her muscles, hoping his touch was not the cause. “Relax,” he whispered.
 

She couldn’t.

He closed his eyes and tried very hard to telepathically connect with her thoughts. “You are very hard to read. You’ve built walls.”

“That’s the Eridani training,” she reminded.

“More than that…’he’ hurt you very deeply. He wounded you…He was Alphan; that’s why my touch causes such a reaction. Was he the one who gave you the N-link?”

“No,” Dana shook her head.

“PK gave it to you?”

Dana pulled away. “How do you know that?”

He smiled. “Who was PK?”

She turned her back.

Macao slid his right hand up under her hair braid and she stiffened even more. “He was Alphan.”

“Please don’t,” she murmured.

Macao allowed the connection. His fingers caressed the nape of her neck. “Prince Korwin…PK? You went through academy with a High Prince?” The Captain sighed.

“There are regulations against this, sir. I could report you for sexual harassment.”

“You won’t. And, it’s not. It’s just my feeble attempt at showing you how very attractive I find you.”
 

She shivered.

Under other circumstances, she would have experienced great pleasure.

He gave her a brief, but intense glimpse of the desire he felt. She could also feel his manhood rising.

“Sir, this is such a bad idea.” She pushed him away.

He forced her back up against the slope of a console and leaned in, pressing fabric against fabric, straining with passion. “I promise to give you pleasure.”

Still, she wavered.
 

“No one will ever know.”
 

In spite of the wonderfully erotic link he had established, she could not give herself to him in lust. “Please stop…sir…your mate will know.”

He slid his hand away, and backed away, placing a gentle kiss upon her cheek. “I will not use force, Dana. I would be lying if I said I did not feel the temptation to take you against your will.”

He opened his eyes, studying the frown lines at the corners of her lips, the pain on her face, the struggle within her. “You want to love again. I sense it. Can you not allow yourself some pleasure?”

She forcefully pushed him away and recovered her composure.

“So it’s me,” he mumbled.

“If you weren’t my C-O, and you were not mated, I wouldn’t hesitate a moment,” she admitted.
 

“I am…” He heaved a sigh, petting her beautiful cinnamon hair, giving the top of her head a quick, little, friendly kiss, then settled back down in the copilot’s seat, staring forward. “I’ll just have to fantasize what it would be like.”

Dana bit her lip, but offered, “Fantasies are healthy.”

“Are they?” He closed his eyes and a pleasant smile formed on his face.

“Shall I fly us home?” she asked quietly.

“Wait just a few minutes more…”

She busied herself with a console behind him. “Battery power is down to 70 percent. Showing a power drain of some sort... I’ll need to trace the cause when we return.”

He didn’t acknowledge.
 

The minutes slipped away.

Dana returned to the pilot’s seat and reached with her right hand toward the ignition switch on the control panel, but abruptly stopped short. Her eyes caught sight of movement out the front viewport. Without the scanners, she couldn’t confirm the identity, but she announced, “Captain, we have company.”

“Do we?” He responded, opening his eyes and following her gaze.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” she mumbled.

“Our veiled friend has disrobed?” He chuckled, “That design matches a smuggler spotted frequently in the Raritan system; she’s a suspiciously long way from home.”

“Heading our way,” Dana informed him. “We might out run them.”

“Not likely…our engines have been off for too long. Will take time to recycle. Besides, I have no doubt their firepower equals
Lancer
’s. No,” Macao lounged back, “shut down more systems. Play dead.”

“Sir?”

“You heard me.”

“A sitting target,” she retorted nervously, but obeyed his order. Even the air circulation system whirred to a halt. “It’s the oldest trick in the book, Captain,” she protested quietly.

“And it works like a charm,” he reminded. Then he growled, “Don’t panic on me, Mister Cartwright. You swore you weren’t a squeamish female. You’d better act the part.”

“I won’t panic, Captain,” she assured, but her hands were quaking a bit. “I don’t like playing cat and mouse.”

Macao chuckled. “We’re the cheese, Dana. They’re the mouse. The ‘cat’ should be along shortly.”

“Oh,” she got it. Now she was really nervous.
 

The Captain mused, “I never liked mice…or rats. My older brother had one as a pet. Nasty little thing…always bit me.”

“Sir?” Dana interrupted. “Our lives depend upon
Big L
coming along in the nick of time. Aren’t you forgetting that someone back aboard
Lancer
could be feeding them information even now.”

The Captain ignored her observation. His eyes were on the approaching smuggler. Dana shut up and secured her lap safety bar in preparation for the worst.

Under his breath Macao muttered, “Any time now,
Big L
.”

Nothing happened.

The intruder closed to less than a thousand meters distance before weapon beams sliced through space before them.

“Brace yourself,” the Captain shouted at Dana an instant before
Trader One
vibrated, buffeted by the wake from the
 
attack.
 

The smuggler did some fancy maneuvering and came around for another pass, this time closer.
 
It turned right into
Lancer
’s fire storm.

The battle was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving the intruder disabled, but not seriously damaged.

Macao punched the power ‘on’ switch and used the communication system. “Nice work, Mister Bryant. My compliments to Mister Mansfield on his shooting.”

Bryant came back in response. “Dawson is manning weapons, sir. I’ll pass on the compliment.”

Macao frowned openly. “Have Chief Gordon see our prisoners to the brig and put a skeleton crew aboard that ship until I can get a look at her. Have the shuttle bay stand-by to receive us, Macao out.” He flicked off the COM switch and turned to Dana.
 

“Works like a charm…”

She was livid, ferociously gripping the arms of her chair.

“You can relax now,” Janz Macao assured, reading her expression as one of distress. “All the simulators and training can never really prepare you for the moment when the enemy is so close and you’ve no way to fight back.”

That wasn’t Dana’s fear. “Did you plan this?”

“I considered the possibilities,” he returned.

She knew he was lying, but did not come right out and accuse him of it. “You might have warned me.”

“I presumed you would have assessed the situation before suggesting this little joy ride.”

“A test flight is one thing,” Dana moaned, “but laying a trap is a whole different game. Cat and mouse…”