Crystals Three Chosen Mates (2 page)
“Let me make this perfectly clear, Fisher.” Crystal’s voice held a sharp edge. “You will not include anything in your report about what happened in that storage bench. As far as I am concerned, it never happened, nor will it ever happen in the future between us. Just remove any ideas about it from your brain right now.”
Damn, she really sounded like she meant it. He’d hoped once they’d cleared the Quadrant and gotten out of “danger”, she’d reconsider her threat to kill him. Didn’t seem like it, though. He wasn’t any closer to making a physical arrangement with her, and if she ever learned the truth, he’d definitely have to watch his back around her.
“Crystal, I’d never reveal what happened between us.” He used a hurt tone. “That was a private act.”
She snorted. “Don’t be an ass. I know how men talk about their vanquishments.”
“And women don’t?” he asked, truly curious whether they did or not.
“It’s not the same. Even though military women are given more freedom than civilians to experience physical intimacy before their assigned mating, we still have to maintain an unspoiled image. We can’t go around bragging about our adventures, like you can.”
“So, have you had a lot of
adventures
?”
“Shut. Up. Fisher.” She flicked the comm link switch on the control panel of the runabout, cutting off any opportunity to continue the discussion. “Base One, this is R-Five. We are ten clicks out. Over.”
“R-Five, we have you on our data screens. Welcome home. Over.”
“I never thought I’d say it, but I can’t wait to get back to my kitchen,” Crystal muttered under her breath.
“I thought you were ready to prove yourself in the field.”
She glared at him. “I was. I am. And I pray to the stars that I get another chance that won’t include you.”
Fisher mocked a stern look. “Is that any way to speak to your superior?”
“After this upgrade, we’ll be back on equal footing. The only reason it’s taken me this long is because I’ve been stuck in the damn mess hall while you’ve gotten extra field training.”
“But, darling, what you can do with a piece of beef—”
She held her palm up. “Don’t go there, Fisher.”
“Come on, Crystal. I was just complimenting you on your culinary skills. You really are talented with food preparation.”
“Thanks,” she begrudgingly offered.
“We used to be friends, Crystal. Is the thing, which shall not be mentioned, going to change that? Doesn’t that contradict your requirement that we act as if nothing happened?”
“We were never friends. You were merely a classmate at the Academy who I tolerated.”
He placed a hand over his heart. “Ouch. Girl, you know how to wound a man.”
“You’ll get over it…as soon as you spot the next female.”
“Crystal, Crystal, Crystal.” He slowly shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sounded a trifle jealous.”
“Get over yourself. I don’t care who you do, but I recommend you stay away from the mated women. I don’t think you’re fast enough to escape three angry males out to permanently disfigure you.”
“Ah, you
do
care.”
“Shut up, Fisher,” she repeated, and flicked the comm link switch again. “Base One, this is R-Five. We are ready to dock. Over.”
“R-Five, you are clear to land. Over.”
Fisher sat back and watched Crystal expertly handle the controls of the runabout.
Yeah, there was a lot about this woman he admired, but he’d definitely ruined any chance at getting her to return the feeling.
He had to agree with her on this one. He was an idiot.
Chapter Two
The Major pinned a double chevron insignia to her collar. “You have been promoted to Corporal in the Profortuna Military.” He saluted her sharply, and she returned the gesture of honor.
“Thank you, sir.” She stuffed the lingering thought that her interlude with Fisher had anything to do with her promotion. She was on her way up the ranks, due to her own abilities, which was most important to her. In the Profortuna hereditary system of assigning occupations, offspring often strove for their parents’ approval by attempting to outperform them. She had a lot of work ahead of her in order to accomplish more than her three General fathers.
“Congrats, Corporal.” Fisher thumped her on the back.
She held her position, though the force of his felicitation nearly had her taking a step forward for balance. “Thanks, Fisher,” she tossed offhandedly to him.
“Now, for your new assignment.” The Major walked behind his desk and picked up his datapad.
Crystal held her breath. Was she finally going to get out of the kitchen for good and do some real soldier work? She’d been pissed when she was first assigned to the mess hall a year ago because she knew it would provide relatively few promotion opportunities. Eventually, she’d discovered a passion for nurturing others with good food, which she found difficult to reconcile with her drive to excel at soldiering.
Now, if she could prove herself in action, she could make Sergeant in half the time it’d taken her to make Corporal. With the continuing dispute between the Open Air Society and the Council having the potential to burgeon into a full-scale conflict, she could very likely see field action soon.
“Since the OAS’s initial attacks two moon cycles ago, they’ve adopted methods of non-violent resistance,” the Major continued, “and they’ve recruited a large support base in the First Quadrant.”
Crystal took a shallow breath as she waited for the Major to tell her exactly what her new role would be. She sensed Fisher’s tension in his stance next to her as he too waited.
“A work stoppage has been particularly effective, and the military has been ordered to take over most of the daily operations of First Quadrant.”
“Where are they sending us, sir?” Crystal asked, hoping it wasn’t solid waste recycling.
“With all of manufacturing slowed, First Quadrant is at risk for widespread starvation when their supply of nutrishakes runs out. We’ll be bringing in food production from Fourth Quadrant as emergency relief. Therefore, we need your expertise, Corporal Crystal, to deliver whole food meals to the populace.”
“Yes, sir.” Crystal finally took a deep breath, swallowing the disappointment that she was still going to be stuck in the kitchen.
“And me, sir?” Fisher asked.
“You will assist Corporal Crystal. You will be what I believe is called her
sous-chef
.”
Crystal clamped down on the chortle that threatened to burst free. The Bad Boy of their military class was going to tie on an apron to be her second-in-command in the kitchen.
Oh! How she was going to enjoy this—as long as he didn’t ruin her food with his bitter disposition.
“Is that it, sir?” A touch of resentment shadowed Fisher’s words.
It appeared Corporal Hot Shot wasn’t too pleased with his new assignment.
“No, Corporal. There’s more,” the Major confirmed.
Crystal stiffened as she waited. Could this be more than another cooking job?
“You’ve both shown aptitude for undercover work, so you are going into the field to collect information on the OAS for the Council. Working as Food Preparation Specialists is your cover. You will have the opportunity to interact with the entire population of sector one to gather intel.”
“Sir, if the populace knows it’s the military who has taken over the jobs, how are we going to get any OAS members to trust us?”
“Rumors are coming out of First Quadrant that several high-ranking military officers are working with the OAS to overthrow the Council. You will act as sympathizers to their movement. You will do whatever is necessary to gain access to their core leadership.”
Excitement brewed in Crystal’s chest. This undercover assignment was the perfect fit. She could use her abilities in food preparation and her field training, and the best part was having Fisher assigned as her sous-chef. After her failure in good judgment, she couldn’t wait to boss him around in the kitchen.
* * * *
On the long runabout flight from Fourth Quadrant to First Quadrant, Crystal considered another benefit of this assignment. She would have the chance to reestablish her relationship with Stepho and Henri, two refugees from the First Quadrant she’d met shortly after the first terrorist attacks.
When Fisher stepped out of the runabout cockpit to take a bio-break, Crystal let autopilot fly the craft while she daydreamed about the day she met the scientists nearly two moon cycles ago.
Crystal had looked up from the chopping board to find two shell-shocked men entering her mess hall. The first man was shorter and had a head of dark, thick, silky hair brushed back from his olive-toned forehead. His First Quadrant intelligentsia uniform emphasized his broad shoulders and flat stomach, and even though he had the discombobulated look of a displaced person, he still walked with an air of authority.
The taller, brown-skinned man with him was even more slender; his uniform overlapped in pleats where it was clinched in his trousers. Both men sported unshaven jaws and looked like they’d been living solely on nutrishakes.
They definitely needed some of Crystal’s cooking.
She wiped her hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of her military uniform and stepped up to the grill in the middle of the kitchen.
“Sammy, I need two plates of fish and veggies, ASAP.” She wished it were the last week of the moon cycle. Then she’d be able to give these underfed men a hearty piece of beef, but this fish steak was all she had to work with for now.
“Yes, Specialist Crystal. Coming right up, boss,” Sammy replied.
She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Sammy, you’re not military. You don’t have to call me by my rank.”
Her younger sous-chef gave her a cheeky wink. “Just giving you the respect you deserve, ma’am.”
“You’ve been surrounded by military uniforms too long, Sammy. You’ve adopted all their best behaviors,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. Having grown up in a military family herself, she knew all too well the positives and the negatives, but she wouldn’t change any of it. Family was more important than anything else on the planet.
Sammy refrained from replying. Instead, he flipped two beautifully grilled fish steaks onto plates and added a side of roasted root vegetables.
Crystal grabbed two sets of silverware wrapped in cloth napkins along with the plates of food. With her elbow, she tapped the wall panel and waited for the door to the dining area to slide open. Then, she approached the two men who’d found seats at an empty table at the back of the mess hall.
“Here you go, boys.” She set a plate in front of each of them.
The men stared at her, then at their plates, then back at her.
She chuckled softly. “It’s fish steak. Sorry I can’t give you any beef today. Our order comes in next week.”
“Beef? From the
Bovidae
family?” the brown-skinned man with the short black curly hair asked.
“We didn’t expect anything,” the olive-skinned man said. “We came in here to talk.”
“This is the mess hall,” Crystal explained. “Most people come in here to eat, and you boys look like you could use a good hot meal. Now, eat up.”
“Not until you do us the honor of allowing us to introduce ourselves,” the man with the silky black hair said, using the formal method of address. He appeared to be the senior of the two men; or rather, his natural leadership made him seem more mature.
She nodded her consent at his request for an introduction.
The men pushed back their chairs and stood. The senior man held out his hand, palm up. “I am Doctor Henri, son of Kevin, Robert and Oliver, mates of Cecilia.”
Crystal laid her palm over his and answered, “I am Specialist Crystal, daughter of Jeffers, Thomas and Vanguard, mates of Priscilla.”
He squeezed her hand for a moment, and Crystal sensed a deep strength both in his physical presence and his personality. When he withdrew his hand, Crystal turned to the taller man for his introduction.
“I am Doctor Stepho, son of Santos, Russell and Owen, mates of Angelina.” His voice was soft and deep.
Crystal placed her hand over his much larger, darker one and repeated her lineage. His palm was warm and slightly rough, not what she would have expected from a member of the intelligentsia, who were known for their brain usage, not their physicality.
“Now, sit and eat before it gets cold,” she urged the men.
“Are you able to join us?” Stepho inquired. “We’d be most interested in learning about these food items.”
She quirked a brow. “It’s fish steak and root vegetables. Pretty standard fare.”
Stepho shook his head. “Not in First Quadrant. We have mutton once a moon cycle and green leaves at our nightly meal for those who choose them.”
