Starline Read online

  Starline

  by

  Imogene Nix

  Starline

  Copyright © 2016, Imogene Nix

  ISBN: 9781944270308

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: July 2016

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  One man, one woman, one psychotic alien. The race is on to save humanity. Past, present, and future.

  Mellissa Davis is your average bookstore owner and aspiring romance author until one day an electronic bookpad slides through the mail slot of her small store. Now all she has to worry about is a sexy, time-traveling stealth ship captain, staying out of the way of the bad guy, and saving the universe. Not much to ask…

  Duvall McCord, an up-and-coming space captain, travels to the past to stop the Ru’Edan leader’s plans to destroy the Earth Empire before it can be formed. His mission? Retrieve the handbook for the Elector. He doesn’t count on saving a woman who intrigues him or having to bring her back to his time in order to keep her safe.

  Time is running out. They must do whatever they can to stop the plot, but will it be enough?

  Content Warning: Space and time travel, violence, and evil aliens abound

  Dedication

  For everyone who reads Science Fiction Romance, my family, and of course the wonderful Beachwalk Press, without whom this series would be back on my computer and not in readers’ hands.

  Prologue

  Duvall McCord stepped out of line as the parade was dismissed, inwardly wincing as his new boots rubbed his feet and his new uniform scratched his neck. He looked at his family, considering and measuring. He’d worked hard to attain the grades needed to be able to enter the academy, but it was all he’d ever wanted and dreamed of. To travel the stars and eventually captain his own ship. Now there he was on the cusp. Even as a fosterling, his room had been decorated with the ships he one day wanted to command, and at the age of twenty-three he was finally on the way.

  His father, Captain Gentry, who had given up the chance of a plum command to keep his family happy, was always in the back of his mind. He now captained inter-galaxy runs for the Admiralty. He’d even given up his Star Destroyer for his wife’s peace of mind. Duvall promised himself he’d never do that.

  He belonged somewhere out there, among the biggest, the boldest, and the best.

  His little sister, Meredith, bounced up and down, squeaking excitedly, and his parents smiled. He felt their genuine fondness for him, their foster son. They were proud of his many achievements, and if there were doubts in their minds, they were never spoken of.

  Duvall was driven, almost obsessive in his desire to become the best of the best. That was why, now at the end of his time in the academy, he had been nominated as Best of his Class. The Top Graduate. The one his peers looked up to. The question had been asked and answered: was he good enough? His answer was always an unequivocal “yes.” His family, peers, and instructors saw the drive and accepted it for what it was—an integral part of who he was.

  His mentor, Captain Gustav Elphin, had requested that he serve aboard the Star of Ishtar, and had taken a great personal interest in this cadet.

  It was acknowledged he would be on the fast-track to the stars. And, as Elphin told him again and again, emotional entanglements grounded a man; a piece of advice Duvall took seriously, so he had been careful in his social encounters. Always keeping a light touch with his lovers. Love ’em and leave ’em was his motto. He refused to let anything get in the way of his achievements and the desire to captain his own ship.

  If privately his parents had any doubts about his lack of emotional ties to the women he was seen with, they kept them to themselves. No doubt they believed that one day a woman would change his mind and the attitude he had worked so hard to foster. For now, he accepted their belief that he knew what he wanted and had the drive to achieve it.

  War was finally over and there was time to settle down. Long days of peace stretched out before them. The uneasy truce between the Earth Empire and the Ru’Edan, while new and tenuous, meant that there were opportunities diplomatically for the right kind of man and woman.

  The rogue Admiral of the Ru’Edan Empire, Crick Sur Banden, might still be on the loose, but there was a belief that soon he would be brought to ground and that a true peace might be the outcome. Well, that was the opinion of the hopeful in the Empire anyway. The Empire held its collective breath as the newest graduates of the Earth Empire Academy marched out. They hoped to reap the benefits of those who came before.

  * * * *

  Crick Sur Banden, crouched low, on the balls of his feet, hoping that once he got into the craft, he could escape to Sienna V, where a base had been set up during the struggle. The cold, miserable planet on the edges of the Ru’Edan Empire was far enough away that it was rarely considered a haven for anyone. His lips curled with derision for the current ruling Senate. Oh, they may think that calling a cease-fire would allow them to rest and recover, but he knew that this struggle could not end so swiftly. Not at all, if he had anything to say about it.

  He darted through the open doorway as soon as the corridor cleared. During the celebrations, he’d arranged for his most trusted supporters to prepare the shuttle. Freedom was in sight, and not looking back, he lunged in. The door shut behind him, and making his way swiftly to the bridge, he bellowed, “Ascend now!”

  In the chaos of celebrations only one controller was on duty in the Space Control Center, and he didn’t even notice one small shuttle make its way out of the atmosphere until it was too late. Abruptly, the craft disappeared from view.

  Chapter 1

  Maybe it’s time for a romantic interlude between George and Eliza, Mellissa mused as she headed to the door of her little bookstore, where she sold both new and used books.

  The day had been long and the weather continued steamy so she’d kept an eye on the door, ensuring the air-conditioner worked optimally. Mellissa pushed her hair out of her eyes and stretched slightly left and right to relieve the kink in her sides from hauling titles in and out of the shop. Her left hand raised in farewell to her assistant, Jemma, who was heading out for a hot date.

  “Have a good night,” she called out as Jem swaggered out the door, wriggling her bum in the skin-tight jeans she’d just about poured on, teamed with a glittery top that worked really well with the black hair that swung across her back.

  Mellissa watched her totter and wiggle around the corner in the stilettos that made her look much taller and older than she really was, and she sighed. Jemma was looking for a connection so hard that Mellissa worried she’d never find a man who accepted her for herself.

  She shrugged. “Not much I can do about that right now.” She closed the door with a jingle of the bell and snapped the lock shut. Summer hadn’t waned yet and she felt as limp as lettuce. She snorted to herself silently. “Oh Mel, that’s really poetic.”

  She continued shutting the shop down for the weekend, watching as the blind dropped over the door with a clunk. That would ensure her privacy, she thought as she headed toward the back and the cooler office she loved.

  A quick stop in the small staff bathroom—little more than a glorified toilet with space for changing and a shower—and she was ready to work. A glance in the mirror showed a moderately passable female, with a trim figure, hazel
eyes, and mousy brown hair against white skin.

  She grimaced at her wide mouth, wishing as always for cupid’s bow lips like Jem’s. Mellissa had always found it hard to be thankful for what she had. She’d been called nondescript by some, but accepted that her brains and work ethic would get her forward in life, so she had worked religiously since she was sixteen. She’d told herself time and again that wasting time outside, running and athletics weren’t her strong point.

  Whatever DNA inhabited her system it must be okay, because even though she didn’t actively exercise, she didn’t seem to run to fat, just lacked the toned appeal of other women. Not that she was unhealthy, far from it, but she had other fish to fry and a future to build.

  “Where the hell did those pitying thoughts come from, Mel? Hmm. I think a session of George and Eliza will do me wonders.”

  Glancing at her white linen camisole top and black pants, she grimaced. The outfit wasn’t exactly high fashion, and after a full day, not as fresh as it could be, but she too had a date.

  She pushed the bag of Jem’s discarded clothes to one side. “Well, you obviously had other plans for tonight.” She just hoped Jemma remembered to be safe. Given that she’d chosen to leave her work clothes behind, it was obvious Jemma wasn’t intending to go home tonight, otherwise she would have stashed them in her backpack and taken it with her.

  She moved into her office. Truly a haven, she mused as she eased into the squeaky, squishy office chair she had splurged on last year when she finally made the decision that she wanted to write a book. Not just any book, but a romance novel. Her lips curved upward as she booted up her ancient computer, listening to the chug and churn as it groaned into life. That would be her next treat, she reassured herself. Soon. She’d promised herself that she would invest in a new machine—which she had already picked out—once she reached the halfway point in the book.

  The monitor blinked and the room filled with music as she logged into her remote server. Stretching again, she set the clock for ten PM—her self-imposed limit for working nights. Thankfully, living in the apartment upstairs from the shop, she didn’t have to worry about a commute, and she allowed herself time to run through the chapter she’d worked on last night.

  “George leaned forward in his seat as Eliza moved the throttle toward the point of lifting the machine into the sky,” she read aloud. “Oh please, George’s actions should be more interesting than that,” she grumped audibly to herself and slowly immersed herself in the theory of how a space captain, and maybe someday, wannabe-lover, would move while teaching his young, sexy protégée how to go about moving a space freighter into the sky..

  Slowly the words came, spilling out like a river flowing from her mind to the paper via the keyboard.

  * * * *

  “What do you mean the handbook is missing from the secure records, sir? No one else had access except the crew of the Elector, your personal staff, and the designers and builders.” Duvall McCord ran his hand through his hair. Tension screamed in the tense fingers that scraped along his scalp. “I thought everyone had top-level access and as such had been thoroughly screened before being awarded a position in this project?”

  “We don’t know at this stage how this could have happened, Captain McCord. However, I fear the worst, which means it could be an infiltrator. The thing is, we just don’t know. I have security checking the vidscreen records as we speak, and we’re running full scans of the crew and staff backgrounds again, including deep-level family screening. There has to be more to this. We just don’t know what that is though.” Admiral Gustav Elphin sounded weary, and Duvall could almost hear the disgust in his mentor’s voice as he leaned forward in his chair.

  “Sir, do we even have any inkling where it might have gone?” Duvall tensed as he waited for an answer.

  “Not really, Duvall.” In the viewer he looked exhausted and worried. “I need you to keep eyes open on this one. If there is an infiltrator, he or she could be aboard the Elector. If that’s the case, we don’t know exactly what has been passed on or how it was done. All I can tell you is we need to catch them quickly. I don’t need to remind you this is a need to know case though.”

  Duvall shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The concept of an infiltrator, a mole aboard his command, sat wrong. “Aye, sir, will do.” His eyes narrowed with frustration.

  “Duval…be careful. Crick Sur Banden is obsessed with you at the moment. You made the list when you rescued Elara from his people, and with your latest mission…” Gustav shook his head. “According to our intel, that inflamed the situation. It wouldn’t surprise me if he is involved in the disappearance of the handbook.” His voice tapered off to a thoughtful silence, then a sound suspiciously like the clearing of a throat. After a further short silence, indicating he was viewing something on his screen, he continued brusquely once again. “That’s all I can tell you at the moment. Elphin out.” The communication abruptly cut out, leaving Duvall with more questions than answers.

  Duvall gazed thoughtfully through the screen separating him from outer space and contemplated what steps he would need to take next. The handbook carried the schematics for the Elector, which was enough of a concern, but was that everything regarding this mission? It was also fitted with the technology to allow for time travel. If whoever had the book knew this, then they could replicate it.

  Not only did that put the past in jeopardy, but what he knew may never come to pass or even exist. Until he had further information, or arrived in the time he was authorized to travel to, he would continue to investigate the loss of the handbook.

  His mind turned to the ship itself. The Elector. He grinned. Damn, what a bird she was, the first of her class. The prototype stealth ship would allow them to maybe claw their way to the front of the battle and perhaps finally bring the last threats to peace in the galaxy to justice.

  Slowly, he spun his chair back to the front of his desk and rose to his full height. Time to begin investigating what had happened. Not trusting his second-in-command would be tricky, particularly given Grayson had been with him almost from the beginning. It was the price of leadership though, and he would need to start by taking another look at the records of his men. He strode through the door, which shut automatically behind him, and headed for the bridge.

  * * * *

  The buzz of the alarm cut through Mellissa’s concentration. Thoroughly lost in the exploits of George and Eliza, the clock reminded her to go up and make dinner and perhaps head straight to bed. Slowly stretching, she reached out to save her work, then rose, stiff from her hours in front of the computer. Mellissa inwardly celebrated the progress made: another couple of thousand words written. The writing made for slow work, but her characters sizzled each time they came in contact. Excellent.

  She made her way through the door, turned left and headed for a hidden staircase, then continued upstairs. Her stomach growled, and she thought, something easy and cool perhaps. As she reached her small living room, Mellissa walked over the rough bare floorboards and passed the metal utility chairs on her way to the kitchen. Maybe a basic salad will do.

  Reaching the refrigerator, she grabbed a ready-made salad and poured a glass of cold white wine. She had just sat down on an old stool at the eatery when she heard a thud. Hmm, probably another book drop-off. She didn’t really pay any attention as she munched and crunched her salad and continued plotting the evolution of the book.

  She could get George and Eliza together quickly or… She discarded idea after idea. “Okay, so maybe it’s time for me to try something else.” Mellissa considered her options for the evening. “I’m thinking a quick shower and bed sounds just about right. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so I get a whole day to work on my book.” She grinned. “Who knows, maybe George and Eliza will see some closer action.”

  With the meal finished, she discarded the disposable plate and padded in the direction of the bedroom while tossing possible scenarios of seduction over in her head.

  * * * *
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  “Sir, you have an encoded message incoming from Admiralty,” Engineer Corbin Jard stated. A young officer, new to Duvall’s team, he looked up expectantly at his captain. His pretty-boy face showed eagerness, and he looked ready to jump up and grab something, anything his captain commanded. Jard had joined the crew just as the ship prepared to make its maiden journey. A big step up for someone so junior who had, until recently, served on the Star of Ishtar under the command of Elphin, before his promotion to Admiral.

  “I’ll take it in my office, Jard,” Duvall said, striding through the automatic doors and heading to his office.

  The crew of the Elector carefully trained for multi-tasking, and given the relatively small size of the crew and the status of a stealth ship, if one officer sustained injury, someone else could continue their role. While they’d all been newly transferred, Duvall felt satisfaction in the way they’d integrated.

  Hopefully this information would take them to the handbook they sought, something to give them a break in the ongoing hunt for Crick Sur Banden. Duvall’s neck itched, and while he didn’t consider himself superstitious, he never neglected to listen to what his senses told him. Right now they screamed that he needed a lead, and quickly.

  Once in his office, he locked the door and opened the secure link. “McCord here.”

  “Duvall, I have a lead, or something, for you.” The earnest voice of Warrant Officer Meredith Gentry came over the line. As much as he looked forward to hearing from his sister, she wasn’t the person he was expecting to hear from.

  Meredith continued her work safely tucked away on Aenna. Didn’t she?

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” she hurried on. “I think someone knows I suspect something. I rigged the handbook with a tracking device. The code is—” He could hear the sound of voices behind her. “Quickly, it’s V-four-two-two-J-five-three. That will allow you to access the feed,” she said as he jotted down the tracking device’s code. He could hear her taking quick breaths. “It moved through the gate outside Eris on code L-X-five-four-three-G-H-four.” He knew that code. He had just generated one giving a similar time path.