OK. Here we go.
Hoshi tucked her hands behind her back.
“I want to square things between us now, Trev. We’ll be working together. I expect a professional relationship. After today, we don’t talk about the past.”
Blunt. Concise. Not the same Hoshi.
“We’ll see how it goes. Say your piece.”
She sighed. “You haven’t changed. A suit instead of a uniform.”
“Don’t make this about me.”
“You’re right, Trev. There’s blame to go around. I spent months trying to forgive you for the dark room. Worked hard. If not for Connor, I wouldn’t have gotten over the hump. He made me realize you weren’t to blame. You were curious and stubborn. You outplayed me. The rest was down to that cunt Devonshire. Good riddance.”
Trevor took the verbal blows with a steady hand.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Hoshi, but you don’t sound like you’re over the proverbial hump.”
She licked her lips with apparent relish.
“There’s a war on. This station would fall without us.”
“Good chance. Yes.”
“Which means we’ll find a way to work together. I start my days early. I like a large breakfast. Connor tells me the Executive Dining Room has a great reputation. I’ll see you there tomorrow at H6. Don’t be late, Governor.”
She pivoted with military precision and caught up to her contingent, never looking back.
Trevor sidled over to Haas, who watched with equal bewilderment.
“That went well,” he said with a dose of snark.
“They act as if we’re an inconvenience.”
“Straight from their playbook, I suspect.”
She petted his arm.
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you in sooner. We have to be careful.”
“Yep. We also need to know their plans. This Sukareva business worries me. What are they expecting from Halifax and Atumwa?”
“No idea. I was thinking, Trevor. Since we’ve been given a reprieve, would you like to join me for dinner?”
Trevor used his imagination.
“A kiosk meal in the stairwell landing, perhaps?”
She let rip a chuckle.
“I thought it was time we got to know each other.”
“Sure, but how about tomorrow? Would you mind if Shireena joins us? She’s my partner.”
“Will she be your next wife?”
“I hope so.”
“Love to, Trevor.”
He led her toward the Customs gate.
“My head is swimming. I don’t know where to start.”
“One item at a time works best for me. Don’t push too hard.”
“Got it.”
They followed the Hampton Wave contingent to the rifter docks, bid farewell, and went their separate ways.
Three hours later, Battle Group Capt. Remy Graygone turned over Guardian command to Capt. Andre Felt. Trevor watched the ceremony then the secure cam feeds as the three warships reached departure coordinates and opened wormhole apertures. When they jumped away, Trevor felt a desperate sense of loss.
He settled in for the night at H21. Sleep beckoned, but he also wanted to make love to Shireena. Couldn’t he end the day with something good and pure?
She wasn’t in the mood. The meeting with Intel officer Delhi turned her stomach. He wasn’t a bad man, she said, but far too eager to “root out” the hidden enemy.
“He advised we work overtime to finish our profiles then start again with a more intrusive approach. The things he proposed ... Trev, we already crossed lines.”
