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Authors: Veronica Scott

Star Cruise: Marooned (14 page)

BOOK: Star Cruise: Marooned
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Receiving a reply so soon meant there had to be a ship or a unit operating not too far away. His hopes rose the tiniest bit.
 

When he checked the received queue, a single word blinked at him. “Identify.”

Fair enough. He punched his serial number in again, only to receive another laconic reply, “Proof?”

There was a counter code for authentication, but of course it was as out of date as anything else he could access. He typed the symbols and sent them on their way. The response arrived quickly and was longer.

“If you are who you say you are, what in the seven hells are you doing outside the fence?”

“Long story.” Fingers flying on the keyboard, he added sparse details. “Cruise gone wrong. Have intel.”

There was no response for a nerve-racking few minutes. He occupied himself watching the exterior monitors, where a family of the bearlike animals was wandering by.

The next transmission was a voice he hadn’t heard for quite a few years. “Who the hell are you and how did you end up in the middle of all the tangos?”

“I know we’re in a bad spot, Max,” he said. “I need extraction and I need it three days ago.”

“Oh, you think you know me, do you? Can you prove it?” The voice wasn’t hostile, just flat and disinterested.

“Shall we talk about shore leave on Mirkessa Twelve? Remember what you got tattooed on a very private place?” There was silence from the other end. “Want me to specify on an open channel? Your old lady like it when you got home?” Despite the dicey circumstances he was currently mired in, Red’s memories of the wild, drunken night after the successful conclusion of a tense mission were vivid and amusing.
 

“Stand down, soldier, don’t reveal classified details.” The laconic voice had a hint of a laugh now, but the next words were deadly serious. “No can do on pickup. The whole area is hot. Best you go to ground, wait things out. Maybe we can send a drone to do a supply drop.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Red saw Meg enter the room, preceded by the smell of delicious coffee and hot food. He lifted a hand to acknowledge her presence, but kept his focus on persuading his old friend to do what he wanted. “If it was me alone, no problem. Inconvenient, but I could dance with the enemy for years and not get caught. You know that. I got two women and one injured civvie here. I’ve also got intel on the tangos’ plans.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time on the intel. Sorry, your party is your problem. Command’ll never give clearance—”

Meg stifled a gasp behind him.

Red cut into Max’s apology. “Hey, the authorities screwed up, letting this cruise charter into the area in the first place, and they know it by now. Somebody with gravity
owes
these people.”

There was silence for a moment. Then, “You sound pretty invested.”

Red clenched his jaw, about to play his final card. He hoped it was a supernova. “Remember the guard duty we pulled for that Mellurean Mind, on Twigran Seven? Ten years ago?”

Max whistled. “Shit, this predicament you’re in has to do with the Mellurean prophecy?”

Red turned, watching the play of emotions on Meg’s face, wishing he knew what she was thinking. Frustration over his inability to accomplish her rescue this minute burned in his gut. Stretching a point about what the Mind had told him years ago, he clenched his jaw and said, “Yes.” It wasn’t like anyone was going to check with Lady Jeffek.

“Give me twelve. Out.” There was a burst of sound as the link was cut off from the other end.

“The military don’t want to rescue us, do they?” Meg didn’t sound surprised.

He eyed her curiously as he took the coffee she handed over. “No. I think this entire system is flooded with Shemdylann, maybe this whole end of the Sector. Extraction will be risky.”

Perching on the edge of the console, hands folded in her lap, she gave him a level stare. “We could do what he said, dig in and wait. Hide.”

“You’re calm about the prospect.”

She arranged his dinner on the desk near his elbow. “I was a kid growing up on a frontier world, remember? Good survival skills. You and I could take care of the others. Even if we didn’t dare stay at this facility too long, we could manage. I hate for anyone to risk themselves trying to rescue us if the situation is so dire.” Meg focused on the blinking lights on the com console, unshed tears making her eyes luminous. She traced her finger over the nearest controls, her voice so soft he had to lean closer to hear the words. “I have enough deaths on my conscience.”

“I told you before, none of this is your fault, starting with Sharmali’s death on the first night.” He admired her integrity, but was determined to keep her from shouldering the responsibility for things she couldn’t have averted. “We never should have been here.
You
shouldn’t have been here.”

Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it was my fault once we landed. I was in charge.”

Before she finished her sentence, he was hotly contesting her conclusion. “That incompetent screw-off Drewson was in charge. If he survived, which I doubt, he better hope I never cross his path.”

“But I—”

“No, just no.” He made a slashing motion with his hand. “I’m speaking from experience; don’t carry the burden of what happened. Focus on the here and now, and us getting our remaining passengers—and ourselves—to safety. Once we’ve been extracted, once we’re safe somewhere, you can go talk to the psychmeds. Hell, I’ll go with you. The mind medicos’ll help you see what I’m trying to tell you. Once we were put in this situation, did you and I do the best we could with what we knew and had available?”

Meg nodded, eyes wide.

“Yes, we did,” he agreed with her conclusion. “And that’s all we could have done. There are two people who would have died if we hadn’t. Their lives are our comfort and our victory.” He picked up the sandwich she’d made for him and took a bite, washing it down with the coffee. The strong emotions roiling his gut receded a bit. “Now, this is terrific. Where’d you find the coffee?”

“Someone’s private stash.” Meg strolled over to the other console, barely glanced at the readouts, and returned, as if she had excess energy she needed to work off. “Why are you so adamant about us getting rescued now?”

He swallowed another bite of the excellent sandwich. She might have concocted it from reconstituted dust, but right now it tasted better than the best Azrigone beef. Swirling the coffee in the blue glazed mug with the PolyStarMed logo, to savor the aroma, he said, “Remember the first time we talked about galactic war? When we were on the run from the Shemdylann?”

She nodded.

“We don’t know our side is going to win this skirmish. We don’t know they’re even going to try. Strategy is calculated on a level so far beyond what you and I understand—Command and the Sectors’ government play the entire game board, trying to beat the Mawreg once and for all someday. What if the decision is to abandon this system? The whole Sector?” He leaned closer to her. “What if the decision is to burn off this world? No one’s going to care that we’re here before turning on the torch. None of the four of us has the gravity to pull an external rescue on our own. The only reason I might have a chance is my contacts in Special Forces. And right now is the best time, while things are in flux out there, beyond this planet’s atmosphere.”

“I had no idea the situation was so dire.” Meg sank onto the nearest chair, laying her head on the padded top, as if her knees had given way under the onslaught of his logic.

Guessing from her reaction, he’d painted the picture a bit too accurately; he tried to inject a hopeful note. “Max said he’d get back to me, so there might be a chance. He’s a man of his word.”

Raising her head and pushing her hair off her face, Meg asked, “An old comrade in arms, I take it?”

Red couldn’t stop the grin, recalling old times. “Yeah, he was like my sixth brother. We survived Basic training together and then a lot of…really bad things. Too much action to talk about, outside the fence in a number of places, including Mawreg territory.”

“But he’s still on active duty?”

“Max was wired differently than me. He played politics, moved into the officer corps, and got promoted. I stayed on the Teams, doing missions. Until I couldn’t anymore.” As he drained the last drop from his mug, Red frowned. “Where exactly did you find this private stash of coffee?”

“On Level Two. We finished dinner and you were hard at work in here, so we forged ahead. There’s a lot of personal stuff left, although a few of the rooms are stripped to the bare walls.”

Anger mixed with concern for her safety burned through him. “I told you to wait for any more explorations until I was available.”

Meg was unfazed, rising from her chair and shaking a finger at him. “And I’m in command, which you forget regularly.” Giving him a small smile, she went on. “Callina was tired, falling asleep at the table. Her husband isn’t in much better shape. I’m hoping he didn’t break his ankle when he tripped getting in here today. It was bruising pretty spectacularly. Tomorrow we may have to see about activating the equipment in the sickbay.” Eyes narrowed, she assessed him from head to toe. “You don’t look too lively yourself.”

“Plenty of fight left.” Reaching out, he locked his hand around her wrist and drew her closer. He took it slow, in case she wasn’t on board with what he had in mind.

Meg came willingly for a step or two, leaning her hip on the console and smiling at him. “Yeah, well, I decided the best course of action was to assign rooms for the night, and then check on you.”

“Bringing me coffee and dinner. Which I appreciated.”

“A good officer has to make sure her crew is well cared for.” Her tone was low, teasing. She gestured at the now inactive panel. “Your friend’s not calling again for twelve hours, right?”

“Affirmative.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “And I’ve set the monitors and alarms so no one can get near this place without us knowing.”

“Even from above?”

Nodding, he agreed. “Definitely scanning for intruders from above.”

“Well then, I think you need to have some rest.”
 

A sense of duty drove him to admit, “I haven’t checked out Level Four yet. I was about to run the scan when the first call came in from Max.”

“I’m sure it’s as abandoned as the rest of the place.” She glanced at the bank of monitors. “And locked tight, so if something did happen on Four, it’s been localized.”

“I need to be sure.”

She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “Such devotion to duty. How long will the additional surveillance require?”

“Five minutes, maybe less.”

“All right then. I’ll be waiting for you on Level Two. I assigned us the largest room, first door to the left after exiting the gravlift.”

“Us?” As he considered the ramifications of the room assignment, the blood pooled in his groin.

Meg blushed a little, but met his eyes. “Seemed to me we had a conversation to finish, some things to settle, maybe? I thought it would be nice to have privacy for wherever the discussion takes us. But if you don’t like the idea, there are plenty of rooms; you can pick your own—”

Rising, he caught her to him, intending to savor a long kiss, his hands at her hips. She put her arms around his neck just as they bumped noses. Retreating a step, half smiling, she rubbed hers with the palm of her hand.

Frustrated beyond belief, he choked on his worry he was going to mess up yet again on impressing the one woman he really wanted to think the best of him. Feeling like the gawky boy he’d been on his first date, which further fueled his annoyance at himself, he tugged her close again, rubbing her nose with his in a caress as gentle as he could make it. “I’m sorry. I lose every ounce of self-possession when I’m near you. All the expensive military training the Sectors gave me, not to mention the discipline so painfully instilled, gone to waste.”

“You don’t have to try so hard,” she whispered, tugging at his earlobe with her teeth. In between featherlight kisses along his jaw, she said, “I was never all that annoyed.”

“You weren’t?” He wrapped his arms around her, enjoying her soft curves pressed against his body. She was warm, smelling faintly of flowers and womanly mystery. His arousal grew even more urgent. “I believed you hated the deck I stumbled over.”

She shook her head, the soft black curls tickling his throat. “Annoyance at your rookie screw-ups was fuel to keep myself from being too attracted.” Raising her hazel eyes to look him full in the face, she said, “I guess I knew from the first day you came aboard the
Far Horizon
how special you were, could be, if I didn’t keep my defenses solid. I didn’t want to risk getting hurt again.”

“I’d die before I hurt you.”

“Sometimes it’s not that easy to trust,” she said, a flicker of strong emotion in her eyes.

He exhaled, instant anger at whoever had hurt her in the past rising to the top of his emotions. Realizing he couldn’t defend her in the past, he compartmentalized the protective feelings. Trying for a lighter tone, he said, “Am I past the defenses now?”

For answer, she went on her tiptoes and kissed him. After the first moment when her soft lips rested against his, he tilted his head to get the right angle and let his tongue trace the contours, silently asking permission for entry. With a contented sigh, her body curving into his, she parted her lips slightly, her tongue touching his in undeniable invitation. Arms tightening to hold her closer, body suffused with pleasure, he deepened the caress, exploring the sensual pleasures of her mouth and tongue, tangling with her as he’d longed to do for weeks.
 

BOOK: Star Cruise: Marooned
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