Chalmers said nothing as she guided him onto the bed, holding the top sheet and blankets as he lowered himself atop the mattress with a groan. As she pulled the covers up to his chest, she gave him a long, considering look and chuckled. “Darn,” she whispered. “Story of my life. And here was I hoping you were about to suggest a fling of wild passion.”
She eyed the surrounding curtains, head cocked as she listened for the sounds of slumber coming from the nearby beds. “I’ve made love in a few different places, but never in a medbay. Could be fun. Though we’d have to mute our moans of passion, so as not to wake the other patients. And Doctor Hawthorne might favor us with a stern glare of disapproval should he discover us in flagrante, so to speak.”
Grady’s brows rose, and he shook his head. “Sorry, I’m afraid I’m hallucinating. The meds must be really messing with my mind. For a moment there, I thought you said…”
Chalmers tossed him a mischievous grin. “Said what, Jack?”
A heavy silence followed, then Grady murmured, “You’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”
“Only metaphorically.”
Grady lay back and blew out a breath. “Nice one. I’m seeing a whole different side of you, Monika. You’re quite the practical joker when you want to be, aren’t you?”
“Where’s the joy of living if we’re formal and professional all the time?” Chalmers asked. “Heck, I bet even spaceship captains get to relax and unwind sometimes.”
“Not as often as you might expect,” Grady murmured. As he spoke, an image of the bottle of whiskey in his cabin desk drawer flitted across his mind before he dismissed it. “Not for nothing is it said that command is a lonely place.”
He glanced up to see Chalmers stroking her chin and staring down at him, her eyebrows quirked. He eased sideways and patted the bed beside him. “Take a load off. Your other patients are out for the count. The monitoring equipment will beep if anyone needs your help.”
As Chalmers sat, she absentmindedly brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. She leaned toward him and whispered, “Well, then, here you are with no command decisions to make and nothing to do except rest and recuperate until the doctor clears you to return to duty.”
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep. Too much on my mind.”
“Then I’ll just have to distract you,” Chalmers whispered, a smirk spreading across her face.
“There you go again with the practical jokes. How is a guy to know when you’re being serious?”
“Oh, you’ll know, believe me.” Chalmers glanced toward the entrance to the ward, perhaps wondering if Zoe was still there, unable to see past the curtains. “So, you can’t sleep, huh?”
“That’s right,” Grady said, keeping his voice low. “And my mind is too woozy for playing cards, even if we had a deck. Or any other games to pass the time.”
Chalmers gave him another contemplative look and whispered, “Then tell me about yourself. I want the full lowdown on the real Jack Grady.”
“You’d only be bored.”
“Trust me, I wouldn’t.”
Grady reached over his shoulder to adjust the pillow, which had slipped down behind his back. “Here, let me get that for you,” Chalmers said. “Lean forward.” He watched as she retrieved the pillow and settled it behind his head with ease.
“You honestly want to hear my life story?” he asked, his voice husky. He realized it had been quite a while since he’d been this close to a woman. And a vibrant, attractive one at that. Her perfume, fragrant and fruity, tickled the back of his throat, and his pulse began to race. He had to force himself to pay attention as she answered his question.
“I asked, didn’t I?” Chalmers let her hands rest on her thighs as her legs dangled over the side of the tall hospital bed. “And, like I said, I meant it. It’s not as if you’ve got anywhere else to be right now.”
“That’s true. But if you fall asleep in the middle of my boring tale, I’m in no position to sling you over my shoulder and carry you to the desk over there.”
“Shoulder slinging’s off the menu anyway,” Chalmers whispered. She adjusted the blankets and met his gaze. “Okay, mister tough spacecraft captain, spill the proverbial beans. Don’t spare the embarrassing details—I want to know everything. And before you ask, my lips are sealed. Your dark secrets are safe with me.”
26
As was his custom, Captain Ezra Withers of the Earth Galactic Gorgon-class super destroyer Balsam clasped his hands behind his back as his gaze swept the stations clustered around the bridge. “Report,” he demanded in a nasal, impatient voice, his lips barely seeming to move amid his pale, cadaverous features.
He suppressed the urge to pace. Ever since half of the force—his force—blockading the rebel held New Hebrides space station had been detached to the fleet gathering near the Badlands, he’d experienced a growing sense of unease, tinged with frustration. How did Central Command expect him to police the blockade when, acting on supposedly reliable intel, they reassigned his largest and most powerful warships to Rear Admiral Casey’s task group?
The gathering fleet was intended to deliver a crushing blow to the insurgents who were believed to be holed up in that remote, lawless zone. With no other option, Withers had been forced to reorganize his remaining assets, dividing up his now depleted flotilla to patrol an area too vast for the number of vessels left at his disposal.
He ground his teeth, his fingers cinched around each other in a death grip. He envied those captains whose ships had been redirected to the assault on the Badlands. What he wouldn’t give for an opportunity to win glory in battle, even against an enemy as weak as the rebel alliance had become, its paltry resources whittled away in the face of remorseless pressure.
Instead, he faced the prospect of an endless procession of repetitive, wearisome days spent crisscrossing open space, on the alert for blockade runners who seemed too timid, or smart, to risk attempting to sneak through to New Hebrides.
The Earth Galactic naval flotilla enforcing the blockade had a straightforward role: prevent rebel supply ships—and troop carriers—from reinforcing their comrades on the space station. Starve them out. Command wanted to capture the vital facility intact, so eschewed a massed frontal attack that would result in serious, perhaps catastrophic damage.
He had just come from his day cabin, where he reviewed the latest intelligence reports. These implied the rebellion was spread thin, running low on resources, especially ships and the pilots to fly them. Its combat fleet was said to be reduced to a ragtag mix of single-seater fighters, larger bombers, and repurposed freighters. No match for the assembled firepower of Earth Galactic might.
If so, it wouldn’t be long before the insurrectionists on New Heb either tried to flee or sued for terms of surrender. And he would be on hand to witness their humiliation. Perhaps he would receive a medal, and a promotion, for his role in bringing an end to the revolt, however dull the duty. He smiled at the thought and cocked his head, eyes fixed on the sensor display overlaid on top of the massive wraparound screen that dominated the front of the bridge.
“Incoming vessel is an Eagle-class gunship, sir, designation GN-XTZ5,” came the sensor operator’s crisp, clear tones, dragging Withers’s thoughts back to the job at hand. He appreciated and expected his bridge crew to respond with certainty and clarity to every question or command he uttered, and he gave a slight nod of approval.
“Has it transmitted a valid clearance code?”
“Coming through on a secure channel now, Captain,” declared the comm officer. She frowned, peering at the holo floating in front of her.
“Something wrong?”
“No, sir.” The woman hesitated, leaning closer to her display. “The code is correct. It’s just old, outdated.”
Withers took a step forward and bent at the waist, his gaze intense. When they were certain not to be overheard, his bridge crew often gossiped among themselves about how they could sometimes feel their captain’s breath on their necks as he stood right behind them. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, leading one to suggest it was like a hawk about to spring on an unsuspecting—and helpless—rabbit, and rip it to shreds.
