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Authors: Veronica Scott

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She was silent for a moment. “I have a thing about storms,” she said finally.

“Seems to be a pretty bad ‘thing’,” he answered. “This is one of the few times you’ve displayed any nerves at all on this trek.”

“I have nerves.” She laughed. “You should have seen me quaking when I was searching for the courage to run from the ruined station into the forest with an unknown enemy lurking.”

“But you infallibly do what needs to be done.” Red’s voice was admiring.

There was a violent flash of light and the explosive boom of thunder directly outside. Red held her close with one arm. Meg ran her fingers through her hair, gently combing the tangled tresses, the motion soothing.

“Do you want me to go outside and check the stability of the nest?” Red asked.

“No!” The idea gave Meg the chills. “Even with your size, you’d be blown away. I’m ordering you to stay inside.”

He subsided. “I’d be happy to make the attempt, if it would give you peace of mind.”

“And I appreciate the offer, but there’ll probably be more close hits like that one and you can’t investigate them all. Or do much about the wind damage either. I’ll be fine.” She realized he wouldn’t press her for an answer about her aversion to storms. Red was proving himself to be an understanding person and perversely, his empathetic, no-questions attitude made her want to explain herself. She swallowed hard. “When I was five, I was playing hide-n-seek with my brothers. At some point, my siblings decided it would be funny to go home without bothering to find me.” She made herself shrug, trying to make light of the incident—it was an old memory, but dredging it up still brought shivers to her spine. When she realized she’d been left alone, the terror had overwhelmed her younger self. Trying to keep a light tone, she continued. “Kids, you know? By the time I figured it out, it was getting dark and a massive thunderstorm hit. I spent the night in the woods. I don’t even remember some of it. The doctors said it was disassociation. Anyway, storms combined with being in the woods are my worst nightmare.”

“Didn’t your parents search for you?” He sounded angry on behalf of her five-year-old self.

“Not until morning. There was a tornado warning, and no one was allowed out of the community shelter. My brothers never forgave themselves, but I’ve forgiven them.”

“I’d have searched,” he said, his voice quiet and sure. “I’ll always find you, Meg.”

She curled her hand around his and rested her head on the nest wall behind her. “You’re a comforting person to have around, Simon Thomsill.”

“Well, you say that
now,
Miss Antille, but until recently, I had the distinct impression I was more of a nuisance.” His voice was teasing.

“Well, you are a rookie.” Meg was amused at how much fun it was to tease him in return.

“Not at everything,” he said. “I’m exceedingly good at some things. Which I hope to be able to prove to you at some point.”

The wind howled and there was another cannonade of thunder. Red leaned over so he could speak close to her ear. “I screwed up whenever you were around,” he admitted. “Fell over my own feet, as it were. Couldn’t help myself. Drove me nuts, being so clumsy, which is not my normal operating mode, but you have quite the effect on me. Of course, Drewson and the others thought it was hilarious to steer me in the wrong direction, like with the coffee request on the shuttle the day we arrived here.”

“I can’t imagine elite soldiers fall over their own feet much,” she said, hoping he could hear the teasing in her tone, over the storm’s ruckus.

“Making a good impression on you mattered to me. You’re important to me.”

Closing her eyes for a moment, Meg indulged in some mental pictures of Red in short sleeves, muscles bulging, the hint of a tattoo on his upper arms, along with his smile and the warmth of his green eyes. Knowing she was taking a step into vulnerable emotional territory for herself, she decided to pursue the topic. “Keeping my distance wasn’t personal,” she said. “I had a couple of bad experiences with crew when I first shipped out, being a naïve girl from a frontier planet, you know? Such a cliché, but true. I learned my lesson the hard way. Luxury yachts are too small when a crew-staff romance goes bad. Lost my first berth, nearly got a black mark on my record when the captain sided with his First Officer, rather than believe me. And after the case was over, I said I’d never get involved with another shipmate. Too complicated.”

“Is your rule subject to negotiation?”

She answered his question with one of her own, something on her mind since he’d first mentioned the subject. “Did you mean what you said—you signed onto our ship because of me?”

“I dropped in on the Guild mixer on Sector Hub and you were there. The one celebrating the planet’s First Ship Day? My buddy, the one who’s hiring me for the CLC lines, talked me into going. I…had some pretty bad experiences on my last couple of missions, spent time in medical, wasn’t fit for downrange duty any longer, according to the medicos. So I’m going civilian. He suggested that I mingle with my new peers.”

Hearing bitterness in his voice, she squeezed his hand. “Hey, you’re doing pretty damn good so far in this mess we’re caught in.”

“Praise from my commanding officer is not to be sneezed at.” He kissed her hand. “Anyway, you were there, with a bunch of other staff and crew, and once I saw you, I couldn’t stop staring.”

Meg didn’t know what to say, settling for murmuring, “I’m nothing special, Red.”

“Sez you. I felt like I’d been hit by a comet when the crowd shifted and there you were.” The wind rose to a shriek, cutting off the conversation for a few moments. When the volume outside became bearable again, Red continued. “Have you heard of the Mellureans?”

Wondering how the odd segue could be relevant, she said, “Yes, who hasn’t? Telepathic, maybe shape-changing, an ancient race here long before the humans of Terra made it out into the galaxy. I always had half a suspicion the whole story was a myth. Or something invented by the trideo industry.”

“Oh, they exist all right. We do protection duty sometimes in the Teams, if the person is high value enough. My unit got assigned as bodyguards to a Mind of Mellure once. Lady Jeffek, one of their ruling Council. I can’t tell you anything about the circumstances, classified till I die. Ask me, we were window dressing, there to demonstrate the human commitment to the objective. Lady Jeffek was pure power and she had her own bodyguards besides. The whole delegation was spooky.”

“What happened?” Fascinated by this view into an exotic legend, Meg couldn’t imagine how the topic related to Red’s pursuit of her.

“Enlisted bodyguards are most definitely
not
encouraged to chitchat with the sentient being protected. Hell, no one talks to a Mellurean without being invited to do so. I’ve heard even the Mawreg are afraid of Mellureans. That’s what made the incident with me so odd. She and her retinue were leaving, the job was done, and we were about to stand down and redeploy. She—the Mind—stopped in front of me and never spoke a word, or so my buddies swore later. All I knew was she transfixed me with one look from her huge violet-blue eyes and I couldn’t look away. It was like an out of body experience, paralysis or something. In my head, I heard a voice say ‘You have one chance in your life at true love, Simon Thomsill. When the moment presents itself, promise me you’ll pursue the chance. To lose true love is the saddest fate that can befall a being.’ And then she’d walked on and I wasn’t sure the whole thing wasn’t a dream.”

“She gave you a prophecy? Just
gave
you a prophecy? I’ve heard the Sectors’ government begs for any scrap of help or advice from Mellure.”

“Yeah, I know, hard to believe. The Mellureans rarely choose to interact with humans, much less tell fortunes. They have their own agenda, and from what I know, the Sectors try to stay out of their way and hope their objectives align with ours.” He picked at a twig protruding from the nest floor, crumbling the attached dry leaves between his fingers. “I heard scuttlebutt later that if a Mellurean dies, his or her mate dies too, because the two beings are linked so tightly to each other on the mental plane. I don’t know if it’s true, but if her people take mating so seriously, the belief might explain why she took a moment to speak to me, give me a prophecy about love.” He rubbed his head. “The higher ups didn’t even ask me what she’d said. In fact, the general sent for me immediately and told me not to ever repeat what she’d communicated, not even to him, and to absolutely do whatever she’d told me. I saluted and said, ‘Yes, sir’.”

Meg tried to imagine someone speaking to her telepathically. “What did her voice sound like in your head?”

“You know that song Mrs. Bettis sang earlier?”

Meg nodded. “Gorgeous music.”

“Lady Jeffek’s voice sounded like music, only using words, not notes. Seeing you at the Guild party, I heard the echo of her voice, like she was standing next to me.”

Meg knew her jaw dropped. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Ask me to dance? Buy me a drink?” She pushed at his rock hard bicep. “And don’t try to tell me you’re shy.”

“I wanted to approach you, but you were sitting there, surrounded by people you seemed to be friends with. And I watched the way you refused other guys. You were more of an observer than a participant. Your girlfriends were dancing with any male sentient who asked, but you sat there nursing your drink. I wanted to know what you were thinking; I wanted to talk to you all night—” He broke off, leaning his head against the nest. “She—the Mellurean—only said it was a chance. I was afraid to blow the chance. I had to get it right. Get to know you as a person, not merely have a dance and a drink.”

Or a one night stand.
Meg didn’t say anything. She might have danced with him if he’d asked, but then again, maybe not. “I was in a pretty bad mood that night. Our tip for the last charter was shabby because the Third Officer messed up, made the Primary on the cruise angry, which is why we had a crew vacancy. I wasn’t able to send my family the usual amount, and I know they needed it pretty badly, so I wasn’t in the mood for company. Probably wise you steered clear.”

“I asked the bartender if she knew you, or what line you worked for. She told me, and added the ship had a crew vacancy. I took the open crew slot as a sign. So I put my other job on hold and signed on. But you’ve got keeping your distance refined to an art form.”

She snuggled close to him. “I was tempted to break my no fraternization rule when it came to you, more than once. I admit it.”

“Really?” He sounded delighted.
 

“Yes. We’re certainly getting to know each other now,” Meg said.
 

“And?”

“And I like what I’m finding out.” Meg’s cheeks grew warm from blushing, but he wouldn’t be able to tell in the gloom. “And we’re marooned now, you know, not shipmates.”

“I’ve thought of that,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I’ll take any loophole.”

“I’m going to get some sleep now,” she said. “The storm’s dying down somewhat. Less wind.”

“Have good dreams.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek, but she turned so their lips met and the caress turned into quite an involved tangle of their tongues, arms awkwardly wrapped around each other, trying not to disturb the others. “Lords of Space, grant this research facility has stout defenses and some damn privacy,” Red said as they drew apart.

CHAPTER SIX

“Bad news,” Red said.

Meg and the others gathered around, sipping at the leaves full of dew she’d gathered.

“The idiots who built the research facility cleared the trees away on either side. We’re going to have to cross open ground to get in.”

“How much further is it?” Meg asked.

“Maybe half an hour at the speed you’re going.” Tilting the makeshift leaf cup to his lips, Red drank deeply of the water she handed to him.

“We haven’t seen any Shemdylann ships since before the storm. Maybe the enemy abandoned the search,” Meg said.

“I hope so.” Wiping his lips, he said, “Either way, we’d better hike.”

When she was standing at the last tree before the small man-made clearing where the research facility stood, Meg wasn’t impressed with the place Red had driven them so hard to reach, and she hated the idea of leaving the sanctuary of the forest.
 

The research facility was unimpressive, not even as large as the ranger station. It was a brown and gray square building, with slab sides and an angular roof, featureless.

“How do we get in?”

“The entry is on the south side,” Red said. “We’ll have to circle around to it.”

“There’s no landing pad,” Meg said. “Odd. How did they bring supplies and staff in and out?”

“One of many mysteries here,” Red answered. “Once we get inside, I’m hoping to learn a lot more.”

Staying close to Red, Meg led her other two companions clockwise through the edge of the trees, getting into position to face the entry. Eventually, after nearly circling the entire building, she was relieved to observe the usual control panel on an exterior wall. “What’s our plan?”

“I’m going to open the door. I’ll go in alone, check out the interior, and make sure it’s safe for us. Then I’ll signal for you three to hightail it while I provide what cover I can with the blaster.”

Nodding her approval, Meg watched with clenched fists as he proceeded to carry out the steps he’d outlined. She alternated between watching Red work on the portal and scanning the sky for their enemy. A one person-sized gap appeared in the gray portal as he punched in his code, and Red stepped cautiously inside. She gasped, taking an involuntary step into the open as the door closed after him. Callina tugged on her shirttail to bring her into the cover of the forest. The next five minutes felt like an hour, until the door slid open again and Red reappeared, waving them on.

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