Dana Cartwright Mission 3: Kal-King (12 page)

They looked to Fomard, but he shook his head negatively, sending raven-black hair flying. “Hawk has seen me about the plaza. I’m not easy to forget.” The Rigelian pointed out, “You and Cartwright have history. It would make more sense.”

Kieran had expected their objections. He was the logical choice. “Looks like the two of you handle security for the conference without me.” He began working at the console. “I’ve ordered the Spaceport Commissioner to eject
Kal-King
by 0700 hours tomorrow — to force Hawk to move. You shall collect Captain… Or should I say, SSID Commander Cartwright. If she’s not still at her room at Spacer’s Haven, you’ll need to track her down. Show her your credentials and bring her here. No time to lose.”

Fomard and Sullivan made a hasty dash for the exit.

The plan Kieran Jai had in mind depended on Dana’s cooperation and on timing. There was no plausible reason for her to accept Hawk’s offer after having point-blank turned him down, unless some solid motive could be found. He scanned her Star Service records, including medical and psychological data, but it was her private finances that met his needs.

With the recent debts, for her medical care after the crash of the
Seraph,
as an alibi, Dana could easily recant her hasty refusal, and Hawk would have no reason to question her.

What remained then was the reason he would need to tag along. Yes, they had history, and more could be invented, if necessary. That still didn’t get him aboard. Hawk was not foolish enough to allow a known SSID officer to join the crew. Besides,
Kal-King
had an eight-person crew; two navigators, two computer/circuitry officers, a communications officer, an engineer, an assistant and a captain. Assuming no one had quit, been fired, or died, if they added Dana as Captain, they would most certainly not need him, too. Unless she insisted...

“Unless,” he chuckled, “I’m her mate.” The idea gave the term “marriage of convenience” a new twist.

What if it didn’t work? He began working on an alternate plan after ordering the proper Star Service documents to reinstate Cartwright, Dana January, as a commander assigned to the intelligence division — directly under his command.

“Well, that was a giant waste of time!” Dana went through her routine of scanning her suite as she always did. When satisfied nothing had been disturbed, she set the locks on the door with her thumbprint. The message light on the hover-ball blinked, but her first order of business was a shower and fresh clothes.

The star liner union had essentially spit on her. The Spaceport Commissioner was too busy to see her. It cost her the last prepaid trip on the ground transportation card.
 

She had to take a public transport back to Tonnertown and felt as though sand and grit were even in her teeth as she finally reached the lobby of Spacer’s Haven.

Nothing like a freshwater shower. After, with her wet hair sending rivulets down her bare behind as she combed it, she called to the hover-ball, “Repeat message.”

“I am Hawk. I must see you on urgent business. I will wait in the lounge.”

“I, I, I…” she grumbled, adding several swear words under her breath. The Tresgan language had no personal pronouns, so when they spoke galactic, they wore it out.

“Save or delete?” The hover-ball repeated, not understanding the swear words or, at least, it was not programmed to respond to them.

“Delete,” she hissed, tempted to add, “and don’t bother recording any more from Hawk.”

She tied her hair back and was halfway into the
 
clean jumpsuit, when the door tone sounded. She quickened the dressing process, sealing the front seam before crossing to the door to check the scanner. Two beings — two very big beings
 
—
 
waited for a response.

“What do you want?” She asked, not bothering with the “Who are you?” part. The massive left hand on the dark-haired Rigelian came up toward the scanner with an SSID identification badge.

Dana reviewed her options. She could not open the door and watch it be torn off its track; or she could voluntarily let them in.

Getting billed for the damages didn’t seem like a good idea, considering the state of her already faulty finances. She pressed her thumb against the locks and the door slid aside.

“I suppose Commodore Jai sent you to collect me,” she guessed.

“Pack everything, because you won’t be coming back,” Jack Sullivan ordered.

“I believe I have the right of refusal,” Dana tested.

“Commander Cartwright, you understand about orders and such. We’re just the errand boys.”

Fomard took a wrestler’s stance, as if to emphasize their determination.

She certainly did know about orders and such; and damn Kieran Jai for invoking them. She began to pack without a second look at her escorts.

“What about my bill? I prepaid for a full week,” she complained.

“No refunds,” Fomard reminded.

Kieran finished his review of the data on the view screen before turning his gaze to the trio entering the conference room. He traded unemotional stares with Dana, then scanned her form — somewhat disappointed at the sight of her old clothing.

“Have a seat, Commander.”

She defiantly remained positioned by the door where her escorts dropped her backpack.

“You’ve met Jack and Lodan, so no introductions are necessary. They’re part of my project team for security on the upcoming conference.” He went on to outline the connection to Crown Enterprises and the primary plan which he’d begun to define while Sullivan and Fomard were gone.

The three men began exchanging additional ideas for disguises, background information and safety plans, without any input from Cartwright.

Her frown deepened. “Excuse me, but I’d like a few words with Commodore Jai in private.”

Kieran deliberated in silence, then nodded to his aides to take a coffee break and wait outside.

Dana didn’t move — didn’t blink — her attention riveted on Kieran as she spoke. “I refuse to participate in this foolhardy and potentially life-threatening plan.”

“Need I remind you of my rank and authority?”

“You may order my court martial, sir, but I refuse to participate in this…”

“Dana?”

She stared.

“I’d forgotten how stubborn you can be,” he remarked, rising from his chair. “Come here.” He shouted it a second time, but still got no response. She did not move.

With three long strides, he was in front of her, his left hand roughly lifting her chin so their eyes would meet. “I will court martial you for insubordination when this mission is complete, Commander. If you’re doing this because of Janz, you’re being a fool.”

“I will never forgive you!”

His grip tightened and using a chilling, almost vicious tone, he spelled it out for her. “It was necessary for Janz Macao to ‘appear’ to be dead. Do you understand?”

She shut her eyes to him.

His grip relaxed, his hand slid around to the nape of her neck, massaging the place where he always touched her for the telepathic link. Then he gently forced her head against his shoulder. In an apologetic whisper, he spoke.
 

“You love Janz, I know…probably more than you love me. Dana, if he came back, he’d be in prison today. That much I can guarantee. Trust me…I cannot give you all the details.”

She swallowed, but said nothing.

After a moment of undisturbed silence for that fact to be absorbed, Kieran sighed. “Now then, about Hawk…”

Dana quickly regained her outer semblance of composure. She backed away a discrete step, but still did not say what he wanted to hear.

“Your plan won’t work, Commodore.
Kal-King
has a captain. Hawk doesn’t want me as a captain. He wants ME!”

“Well, we’ll just need to convince him that two are better than one.”

“You're coming?”

“To protect your back.”

“You can’t be with me every waking moment,” Dana countered.

He chuckled, assuring, “Oh, but I can.”
 

“I won’t mate with you,” she said icily.

“There are other ways. However, if you’re to be a member of my project team, I must have your full co-operation. That means obeying orders and not just when it’s convenient.”

She seemed ready to contradict part of his statement, but held back.

“There are rewards. You could pay off all your debts,” Kieran added.

Her expression softened. “They’re not all monetary.”

“I have a few of those, too,” he admitted thoughtfully. He went to the door to recall Sullivan and Fomard. “Lodan? Put a watch on Hawk and his crew. Jack, get Dana fitted with a link and some weapons; I’ll arrange for a locator.”

“Hawk left a message that he wanted me to meet him in the lounge near Spacer’s Haven,” Dana told the Rigelian.

“Good place to start,” Fomard said and stalked out.

Sullivan motioned that she follow him, but first she cast a glance over her shoulder in Kieran’s direction and found him smiling.

Hawk blocked the alleyway by stretching his arms out full, as if spreading his wings to swoop for the kill. Another Tresgan, sporting an array of totally illegal and barely legal weapons, stood by to back him up.

Dana stopped, folding her arms and waiting.
 

“I am deeply offended that Captain Cartwright ignored my messages,” Hawk squawked.

“No offense intended… I,” she emphasized the pronoun, “had another surgery on my leg and just now got your message.”

Hawk’s demeanor changed dramatically. He lowered his arms, even stooping a bit to appear less threatening. “I trust you are well now?”

“Much better,” Dana said, taking a more casual stance, showing him her left leg. “And I’m finally cleared to leave by the Spaceport Commissioner. In fact, he wants me out of here by 0700 tomorrow.”

Hawk let out what sounded like a Tresgan expletive. “I am ordered to leave by 0700 hours, too.”

“Why so soon?” Dana queried, taking a step closer as a friendly gesture.
 

Hawk said nothing, but his body language betrayed him.
 

“A little problem with security?” Dana teased, giving the other Tresgan a sidelong glance.
 

“I introduce Trede, my engineering officer. I find I now need a captain and a navigator. I again offer you the captaincy, Captain Cartwright. I allow you to hire another crew person.”

“What happened to Heskar?” Now, she was intrigued and rather enjoyed watching the Tresgan squirm.

“Heskar and Trail failed in the duel of honor with a Rigelian he angered.”

She tried hard to keep a smile from reaching her lips. “That was some bar fight; was he one of yours? Wow, that is quite a problem,” she said, stalling. “Let’s say I do accept your offer and can find a trustworthy navigator on such short notice, will I have authority over all? Even this one?” She indicated Trede.

“I grant you rank over all but me,” Hawk answered.

They exchanged stares. This time Dana blinked first. “I accept.”

His squawk sounded like, “Good,” but she couldn’t be certain. Maybe it was the damned translator again.

“I will take you to the ship now,” Hawk insisted.

“Later,” she said, starting away. “I need to find us a navigator.”
 

He called after her, “Bay 95.”

She waved acknowledgment and headed back the way she’d come, checking several times that they made no attempt to follow her. Then, she went straight to Commodore Jai’s suite at Wind-o-mar.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

His ash-blond hair now appeared blue-black, darker than even the Tresgan’s. His clothes were simple in style, dark-charcoal in color, clinging tightly to his muscular frame. She took a long, hard look.

“What do you think of the disguise?” He queried.

“Body looks good,” she said, admiringly, but had to laugh. “You look like an Alphan trying to appear to be a Galaxean.”

“I don’t have the right blood chemistry for that. I’m supposed to be an Enturian, from Luandra Sector.”

“Why not be an Alphan, so we don’t have to lie?”

“Because, my dear, there are only three Alphans who served as navigators in all of the Star Service during the years you served, all telepaths. Hawk would be suspicious. There were thousands of Enturian Exchange Officers. And it is essential that you and I appear to have an existing relationship.”

“Schaffer,” she decided, “you’re trying to impersonate Schaffer, the Enturian Exchange Officer from
 
Navitor
.”
 

She chuckled. “We didn’t really serve together. I met him once, while I was aboard to assist on your surgery. He went missing, you know.”

Kieran nodded, without offering the details of Janz Macao's mission to rescue the sokem. “I know. I thought that made a good cover.”
 

“Well, his hair would be gray now, and he weighed a lot less.”

“Are you certain? I called up his last Star Service visual.”

“That was nearly ten years ago, when he went missing,” Dana groaned, “however, to look younger, he might dye his hair. Enturians don't normally, but it is possible.”

Kieran sighed, “All right, I’ll go gray.”

He vanished into the bathroom, but didn’t close the door. “You’d better take the blade. I’ve exchanged the wardrobe I bought for some things more your style. They’re already packed.”

She hefted the dagger for a brief moment, not daring to ask how he'd gotten the Sterillian blade back from the Commissioner. Kieran had ways.
 

Dana secured the sheath inside her left boot and practiced with the blade, until able to insert and retrieve smoothly. Then, she picked through the rest of the items on the bed.

“My profile is on the link-reader,” Kieran told her. “You’ll want to review it.”

She started to memorize the details. Their relationship appeared to be quite intimate. “You take many liberties with my reputation,” she called.

“You’ve been to all those places and so has Kent Schaffer. The time frame was slightly off, but only by a year, so we tweaked the record.”