He reached Landing zone 12 as the Scramjet Pennix completed dock procedures. He joined the President and Lt. Stallion.
“Wasn’t expecting you, Connor.”
The Lieutenant burst with pride.
“You must not know, bruv. These are my mates. My crew. I was alerted when they jumped in.”
Your mates. Requiem. Of course, they are.
“Will they be as much as fun?”
He couldn’t help the snark, but Connor’s steeled jaw said Trevor had crossed a line.
“These are some of the finest people I know, T. We’ve been to war together. Show them the respect they deserve.”
“Is that a command, Lieutenant?”
Haas poked him in the side.
“Come now, Governor. Let’s show appreciation to our new guardians.”
Loosely translated: Get with the cudfrucking game!
Five officers departed the Scramjet. The tallest of the lot, leading the way and no doubt the Captain, was flanked by three women and a thin, wiry man with a broad mustache. Only one mattered to Trevor. He focused on the Hokki woman to the Captain’s right.
She returned as she departed: In uniform. Otherwise, few features resembled the woman he briefly called partner.
Hoshi Oda seemed inches taller in the blue and gray, her chest also decorated in bars and stars. The hair was shorter – buzzcut around the sides. No innocence, no naivete, nothing placid about her. The desperate, defeated coit he trapped in the Raison Club had been nicely tucked away.
At least Haas gave him a heads-up. There’d be no need for a moment of shock and awe followed by twenty questions.
The President stepped forward to greet the contingent.
The five officers came to a stop and saluted Haas.
Interesting. Who’s really in charge here?
“Madam President,” the Captain said, extending his hand. “On behalf of the Hampton Wave, we’re honored to protect Amity Station. Capt. Andre Felt.”
Haas gave her political all, sporting a well-spring of enthusiasm.
“I’ve heard a great deal about your amazing work. I’m thrilled the Admiralty chose you to safeguard the station.”
“Thank you, mam.” Felt turned to Trevor. “Gov. Stallion. Your brother here speaks of you with enormous pride.”
Trevor improvised without going for the snark.
“I’m sure Lt. Stallion lays it on thick. I’m just doing my job.”
Felt glanced between the brothers, who flanked Haas.
“Connor has proven himself a remarkable patriot and soldier in a short time. If his courage and leadership runs in the family, I’m sure we’ll have a fine working relationship.”
Courage. Leadership. Cold-blooded murder. Yep.
Felt turned to the woman at his immediate left.
“Madam President, Gov. Stallion, may I introduce my XO, Col. Cessa Tyloe. No finer commanding officer in the fleet.”
Tyloe offered Trevor and Haas a curt nod with a staid grin. She struck Trevor as someone who never lost an argument.
Felt continued, calling forward the pencil-thin man with a pronounced mustache.
“Mid-Star Lt. Karson Delhi is our intelligence officer.”
Unlike Tyloe, this man offered both recipients an enthusiastic handshake. He hit Trevor with a rock-solid grip one might expect of a muscular behemoth like Connor.
“Governor, I’d like to arrange a meeting tonight if possible with Shireena Balance, your Director of Safety and Profiling.”
Trevor didn’t make the mistake of flinching or asking why.
Give them what they want.
“Certainly, Lieutenant. I’ll arrange it.”
“Perfect. There are a few urgent matters I wish to address. On second thought, I’d prefer to speak with her entire team.”
“Of course.”
