Diva (Jit'Suku Chronicles) (3 page)

All active duty military personnel received conception blockers in their daily rations. A mixed gender force required some concessions to human nature. If they were going to be sleeping together, they at least needed to keep up with their contraception. It wouldn’t do to have female soldiers—and women on all the planets visited by the armed forces—falling pregnant all the time. So the military, with typical efficiency, took care of it.

It wasn’t foolproof, though. Sometimes circumstances intervened and certain soldiers on special missions didn’t eat military rations. Sometimes they met the loves of their lives and spent a lot of time away from the mess hall. Occasionally, an Enhanced soldier retired from the field and made his way in the civilian world—though he was never completely free of his military minders. Generally, Enhanced men who could no longer fight on the front lines ended up in intelligence circles, running covert ops or seeing to their own stable of spies and informants while keeping up a civilian façade. They certainly didn’t eat military rations with their usual load of contraceptives. And they certainly weren’t monks.

So Diva and a small handful of other second generation Enhanced children existed quietly and in secret, their pasts shrouded in mystery. Just about every one of them did covert work for the military. That, it seemed, had been passed down from their soldier fathers, along with some of the Enhancements.

Diva thought she recognized a fellow Enhanced in John Starbridge, but she would never know. Nor would he ever know about her. It had to be that way for their own safety. Enhanced soldiers weren’t accepted very well, but there were more than a few out there, doing the job, volunteering for the Enhancements and fighting the good fight. Diva would bet John was one of them.

He certainly had the body to prove he was more than human. His shoulders were broad and muscled, his torso lean and sculpted. His biceps literally made her drool, and he was a good foot and a half taller than she. All in all, he dwarfed her, giant that he was, and she liked the feeling of security that gave her.

Diva remembered her father being a big man, though in reality, he’d probably been at least six inches shorter than John. Still, he’d made her feel small and loved as he swung her around in the air. He’d been such a great father and an even greater soldier.

She began to strum the strings of the guitar, pausing a moment to tune one of them. John had pulled on a short robe, and she regretted losing sight of all that hard muscle, but she knew it was probably for the best.

“I told you about my dad, didn’t I?” Diva watched John settle in the chair across from her.

“You told me he died in the Rim Wars.”

“That’s true, but not exactly.” She wondered how much she could tell him without giving too much away. It was important to her that he know a bit more of the background to her latest composition so he could understand it fully. She didn’t care if others didn’t get all that she meant by her carefully crafted words, but for some reason, it was important to her that John understand. “My father went missing in 2416 while doing recon out near the Pyramid.”

She knew he’d understand the star jockey’s slang for a region of space bounded by five stars in a roughly pyramidal shape. The region was as notorious as the old Bermuda Triangle back on Earth, swallowing many ships and cargoes whole, never to be seen again. Legends abounded about the place, and it was no coincidence that the area contained the only known naturally occurring jumpsite in the galaxy. That it was notoriously unpredictable was no big surprise to anyone, and the region had been cordoned off since the discovery was made—just after her father had gone missing all those years ago.

“I’m sorry, Diva.”

Suddenly, that name grated on her ears. “My father named me Maggie, after his mother. Diva is a stage name. I’d say you qualify to call me by my real name, John, though few people do nowadays. I trust you not to go telling anyone.”

“Is it a secret?”

She shrugged. “Everything about me has to be kept under wraps unless I want to see it splattered across the news vids. I like
some
privacy, so I’ve kept my real identity as quiet as possible. We all have our tragedies. I don’t want to exploit my father’s disappearance for my own gain. If the paparazzi got ahold of his story, it would be all over the place. People would be distracted by that and not hear my music, and that’s what I’m all about. Not my past.”

It sounded good, but it wasn’t quite the truth. She was very much influenced by her past, though she could never really acknowledge it openly.

“Then I’m honored you’d trust me with the information.”

“I knew the moment I met you, John, that you were a man of honor. I think my dad would’ve liked you.” She strummed a few chords experimentally. “I’ve been writing this in his memory, though you’re probably the only person who hears it who might understand fully what it’s about. I’m calling it ‘Warrior’s Lament’.”

She launched into the song then, getting lost in the chords and phrases she’d labored over for the past few weeks. She’d started it the day after meeting John, in fact, and had only done the final polish on the words the night before. Meeting John had impacted her greatly, though they’d only had a few minutes together. Still, he was a striking man, and though he reminded her of the kind of man her father was, she found herself attracted to him on an altogether different level.

She wanted him. Badly.

But she couldn’t have him. Her mission was too important, and it wouldn’t be fair to begin something she could never finish. To either of them.

Chapter Two

John sat back and listened, relishing the sound of her voice. It was even more sweet and beautiful in person than on the various recordings he had of her. Diva—no, make that Maggie—had gifted him with a tiny piece of her past and her real self. As a warrior, he knew there was power in a name. That she’d given him her real name so freely was something special and potent.

The words she sang were well-crafted and haunting. He hadn’t expected anything less from her, but knowing that he was the first outsider to hear this new tune was very special. John put his head back and watched her from under heavy eyelids. He’d pulled an extra-long shift getting them off the ground and then underway. He was really tired, but he was also astounded at the generosity of this small woman, to play and sing for him simply because she could.

The song was beautiful. She was beautiful. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily fall for her, and John knew that was not a winning proposition. He was a soldier. An Enhanced one at that. He had no right entertaining the idea of a relationship of any kind with a woman like this. Not only was she a galactic superstar, she was a good and kind soul.

She continued to sing, her beautiful dark green eyes looking up at him from time to time as she focused her energies on the words and chords of her song. It was haunting. The verses talked about a soldier’s last mission. He knew now she was singing of her father and that made the already poignant tune even more special.

When she finished the last note, she let it ring through the air for a few moments before hushing the strings of the old instrument. She looked up at him then, her gaze charmingly uncertain.

“What did you think?”

John smiled. “It’s beautiful. An instant Diva classic.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I could record this. I was thinking of just doing it for the soldiers. I think they’ll understand and appreciate it more than the general public.”

The idea touched him. “I think you’re right about that, but not to record it would be a shame. Many of those troopers have wives and children who would love your song, and it could be used in tribute to the fallen.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She cocked her head as if thinking. “But I don’t want to make any money off this one. It’s too personal to reduce to commerce.”

“Then donate the proceeds. There are a few widows and orphans funds that could always use an influx of cash.”

“John, that’s a brilliant idea!” She laid the guitar aside and nearly bounced off the couch as she thought through the possibilities. “My label couldn’t argue with that. It’s good PR all the way around, and I still get to do what I want without having to sell my left kidney to do it.”

“I thought you were Diva, the All Powerful.” He had to chuckle. “I had no idea there were people who got to tell you what to do with your music.”

“You’d be surprised.” She shook her head, setting the little ponytail of her hair to wagging. “It’s business, just a different kind. My recording label has a lot of say over what I do with my songs, and my manager, Binki, books my concert dates. It’s all I can do to squeeze in a few benefit shows each season, and they grumble at me all the while. Then I remind them who pays their salaries, and they eventually let me have my way, but it’s an uphill battle all the same.” The clock chimed softly, alerting the even shift change. “My goodness, is it really that late already? I’m sorry, John. I didn’t mean to keep you awake.”

“Sweetheart, you could keep me up all night, and I would never complain.”

He hadn’t really meant to say anything quite that provocative, but the slight flush on her cheeks made him glad of the fatigue that caused him to speak without thinking through all his words. He let the statement lie there between them, waiting to see which way she would go. He liked that she could keep him guessing. So few women could, in his experience.

“Is it really true?” she asked softly, surprising him further. “That you listen to my recordings every night?”

Solemnly, he nodded. “Every night I can manage. If I’m on station, in my own cot, I put in my earjacks and let you sing me to sleep.” His voice dropped low.

“Get in bed.”

Her softly spoken words shocked him awake. What, exactly, was she suggesting? He wouldn’t take anything for granted where this surprising woman was concerned. Slowly, he got to his feet and walked over to the huge bed that awaited him. It looked so inviting. It was, by far, the nicest accommodation he’d had since entering the service at the tender age of eighteen. He sank tiredly to sit on the side of the bed, watching her.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Just lie down and close your eyes, John. I’m going to sit here and play a few songs I’ve been working on. I was doing the same in my cabin before the comp pinged me, so I might as well do it here as there. I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

John’s heart clenched. This was just about the sweetest thing anyone had ever wanted to do for him. But he couldn’t let her stay. It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her generosity this way.

“I can’t—”

“You can, and you will. I’m in charge of this tub while you’re sleeping, Captain, and I decide where and when I’ll play my songs.”

Maggie walked right up to him and pushed against his massive shoulder, but he didn’t budge an inch. The man was solid muscle, after all.

“Come on, John. I’ve kept you up too long as it is. Please try to sleep, okay? I won’t rest easy until I know you’re asleep.” And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t just saying it to be nice. Somewhere, somehow, she’d come to care about this soldier, even on such short acquaintance. There was something about John that she recognized and understood on a basic level.

She nudged his shoulder again, and John sighed. He untied the belt on his robe and shrugged out of it, nearly stopping her breath. The man was a living, breathing Michelangelo sculpture. Only better. He was so huge, she felt dwarfed by his size, but never intimidated. No, this was a man who understood how threatening he could seem and tempered his brute strength with snapping intelligence and compassion.

John tossed his robe to the end of the bed and lay down under the turned back covers. He reached for the edge of the blanket at the same moment she did, their hands meeting with a little zap of electricity while his gaze shot to hers. Long minutes later, John moved his hand back, content, it seemed, to let her tuck him in.

Maggie did so with a small pang for what could have been in her heart. This was a man she could easily love, but love was not something she could allow to interfere with her mission in life. She would show him the care he deserved while he was in her realm of influence, but when it came time to part, she would let him go with no promises, no regrets. At least, that was the plan.

Maggie tucked him in, resisting the urge to smooth back his golden hair as she brought the covers up over his arms. Some other woman would kiss him asleep. Perhaps some other woman already did!

“John, you’re not married or engaged or anything, are you? I mean,” she stammered a bit, embarrassed, “there’s no woman out there who’d think my tucking you in would be wildly inappropriate, is there?”

John chuckled, grasping one of her hands in his. “No. I’m a soldier, and you were right—I’m Spec Ops. My life doesn’t have room in it for a special woman, though I’ve never regretted that more than since meeting you.”

She read the message in his eyes that she felt in her heart. He knew as well as she did there was no possibility for them. They could be friends, but that was about it. They both had responsibilities, and they were too dissimilar to allow for anything but a brief interlude between them. This trip out to the rim was all the time they’d ever have.

John brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm sweetly, a shiver running through her with the chaste salute. His expression spoke of regret as he let her hand go and she moved back from the bed on shaky legs. She reclaimed her seat on the couch and held the guitar in front of her like a shield. She faced him and could feel him watching her as she found a comfortable position on the couch.

“Just pretend I’m the voice in the earjacks.” She smiled once at him before pulling a small datapad out of her pocket and placing it on the low table in front of her. She set to work on a few new songs, stopping occasionally to make notes. She was aware of John watching her at first, but the music was consuming, as usual. Before she realized it, several hours had passed, and she was stiff from sitting in one position for far too long.