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  Meredith is a beautiful woman, and she wants to kiss me. Why? That he couldn’t understand. Here stood the unwanted son of Crick Sur Banden, the known universe’s most vile mass murderer, who believed it was his Goddess-given right to crush and kill at will. Even his evil father hadn’t wanted him, hadn’t seen a feature he thought worth keeping, but this beautiful woman did somehow. It didn’t make any sense to him. So he would work, he promised himself, and investigate these emotions until he understood them. The same way he did everything else. Then, if luck holds, we might forge something together. Maybe.

  Meredith stepped forward, her hand brushing over his face. “I want to know more about you, Chowd. I know we have a dangerous mission ahead, but it didn’t seem right to let the opportunity go past without seeing if you wanted me the way I want you. Now I have the answer. I can start work, knowing that sometime down the track, we might just find out if there is more than just attraction between us.” She smiled softly.

  She must have read the uncertainty in his face, as she pulled back.

  “I know. Right now we have work to do. I just wanted to make sure you knew. I’ve watched you ever since I met you. I could only hope you thought I was... Darn, this is so much harder than rehearsing it was.”

  He nearly laughed then, but she looked so flustered that he didn’t dare.

  “I had this all planned out in my mind.” The last words died away to a mutter. He was fascinated by the way she carried on her internal dialogue so openly.

  Her hand covered her eyes, and she breathed in, her chest rising and falling with the action. He watched the movement of her breasts through the suit. He couldn’t help himself. Though small, they were just the right size for his hands, and he struggled to clear his mind.

  “What?” Her voice sounded tart as she looked at him, startling his from his thoughts. “You act like you’ve never seen breasts before.”

  “Well, I haven’t. I mean...”

  She gaped at his admission, and how he wanted to call it back. The tide of red tingeing his cheekbones burned him. He could almost hear her thoughts—He’s a virgin? No way!—and he cringed inwardly.

  She smiled, reaching out and grabbing hold of his hand. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  He smiled through his embarrassment. “Yeah, well. Maybe we should just get to work. You know, concentrate on the threat to the Elector and the ambassador.” But now she knew the truth in all its innocent glory, and he wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

  * * * *

  Images flowed across the screen, and Meredith rubbed her tired eyes, feeling the sting and ache as her abused body chastised her. How she longed to crawl into bed and curl up. She cast a look at the empty bed behind her, but she hadn’t achieved her self-imposed quota of work.

  She needed to finalize this one passage before she could rest. Something about it told her that within these pages lay the key. She entered a keystroke and watched with dismay as the work unraveled before her, the unfamiliar characters filling the viewscreen once more.

  “No! Don’t do that!” She slapped her hands to the desk in frustration, her hands smarting as they met with the cool and hard metal of the table.

  Carefully, she tapped in the command to undo the last action before pushing away from the desk, the chair squeaking in protest. Perhaps a quick meal would help. Her aching legs and back reminded her of the hours she’d spent hunched over the desk screen in the tiny cabin. She wondered if there was a free desk somewhere—perhaps one with a bit more space to work.

  She exited the room and gave the lock command before swiftly moving through the empty corridor, heading in the direction of the mess hall. The clank of her feet on the metal flooring echoed through the silence as she hurried up the stairs. Her stomach rumbled and her gut churned painfully as vertigo hit, and for a moment, everything swayed in front of her. She reached out a hand, looking for support. Barsha! It’s either later than I thought, or earlier.

  “When did I last take a break or eat?” She glanced at her wrist chrono. Just after 0300 hours. I should have eaten earlier, when Duvall beeped. But she had been in the middle of breaking an encryption on some data and refused the invitation. That would have been some seven hours ago.

  Meredith carefully placed one foot in front of the other until she reached the top of the stairs and entered the silent room, continuing toward the dispenser. Her weariness blurred her vision as she scanned the choices, and she squinted slightly, waiting for the words to finally clear. A hearty broth and coffee sounded good. After placing her order, Meredith grabbed a tube of water and gulped it down while she waited for the dish to appear. The aperture appeared and her food slid out. With quick, efficient movements, she stacked the food onto a small tray then carried it in the direction of a table.

  “Here, let me help you.” The words startled her, and she lifted her head. Chowd reached out, taking the tray and leading the way to a booth.

  “What are you doing here?” She knew her words sounded terse.

  “Probably the same as you. Grabbing a late meal—or early—then heading back to my cabin to sleep. We only have a couple of hours before we’re due back in Duvall’s office for the briefing.”

  The heat of his eyes seared her, warming the cold recesses within her, waking her up enough to let her focus on the empty room and the man opposite her. He shifted his empty food container to the end of the table, making room for her tray.

  “I needed to take a break from decoding the message. It just isn’t working though.” She picked up the spoon once she had lowered herself into the seat and took a taste of the meaty soup. “Aahh, this is good.” The smell of the food filled the air, succulent meats and the hint of herbs enticing her taste buds.

  “Yes, it is good. But you need to rest. You won’t be able to focus in the meeting otherwise.”

  She heard the concern in his voice and stopped her hand in midair, considered his words. “I know. I’m thinking maybe the best thing I can do is take a break, grab some sleep, then look at it again in the morning. But something about this particular code is just eating at me.” She shook her head, tendrils of hair whipping around her face.

  The glint in his eyes caught her attention, and she drew an unsteady breath.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You look so...innocent...sitting there with your hair curling slightly and the bowl of soup. I’ve just never seen this side of you before.”

  She grinned. “There’s always a first time, Chowd.”

  She took another spoonful and swallowed it, letting it fill her stomach, calming the rippling sea that the hunger had aroused. With quick moves she made her way through the bowl until only a thin layer of liquid covered its bottom. She grabbed the hunks of bread on the plate and mopped up the juices.

  He snickered at her, and she grinned. “I know. My mother hates it when I do this at home. But it just seems a shame to waste what is left.”

  “Can I help, somehow? With the code?”

  “I don’t know. When would you like to take a look?”

  “Well, I was about to turn in now, but I can take a look after the briefing if that suits you.”

  Meredith cocked her head as if weighing his suggestion. “Sleep is the best thing for now. After the briefing will be fine.”

  She smiled up at him and noticed that the intense look she associated with him was missing. Instead before her sat a man open, if a little vulnerable. She gave in to the urge, reached out one hand, and let it touch the planes of his cheek, surprised when he nestled into her hand with a smile and covered her hand with his before turning his head and planting a soft kiss on her palm.

  An explosion of feeling erupted like a wildfire coursing through her blood. In the depths of his eyes, she detected a fiery passion.

  “One day, beautiful Meredith. Perhaps.” He released her hand and rose smoothly from the soft seats. “But for now, let me escort you to your cabin.”

  She took the hand he held out and rose. They wa
lked out the door of the mess.

  * * * *

  Chowd tossed and turned. Thoughts of Meredith filling and warming him, almost as much as the conversation he’d had with Duvall and Raven before meeting her in the mess gave him hope.

  He’d returned to Duvall’s office after the initial briefing with the Admiral. His discussions with Raven and Duvall had swiftly turned personal though. Facing her brother had seemed an impossible task, but he had no choice given Duvall’s status as his commanding officer and provision needing to be made for the safety of the ambassador.

  When he arrived in the office, he knew they’d picked up immediately that something had transpired, and he wondered if the tide of red on his face had given him away. The discussion had started off in the usual vein regarding the tactical needs of protecting the ambassador, but no matter how hard he concentrated on the discussion, his thoughts returned to that moment when she had pressed her lips against his.

  No matter how hard he hoped fate would throw him a lifeline and let him out of there without the discussion he dreaded, it came at the end of the meeting.

  “So, Chowd. What happened?” Duvall’s voice caught him by surprise, and his head rose sharply.

  “What do you mean?” His body stiffened, alert and prepared, while he waited for the argument he knew would come.

  “Meredith. She finally cornered you?” The mirth in Raven’s voice upset his equilibrium, as Chowd couldn’t see anything funny in the comment. Of all people, Raven should understand.

  “I will not discuss it.” He kept his words stiff as he narrowed his eyes on Duvall and Raven.

  The slap on the back took him by surprise as Raven laughed. “My sister has had a thing for you for the longest time. And while I doubt anyone would ever be good enough for her, she’s grown up enough to know what she wants and how to get it. I’m big enough to let her take the chances on finding happiness.” Duvall looked him in the eye as he delivered his thoughts on the matter.

  “Duvall, I would, but—”

  “But what, man? Are you going to spend your entire life letting his actions stop you from having a life? A woman who wants you badly enough that she will make the first move isn’t enough?”

  Chowd absorbed Duvall’s intent, but it felt... He struggled to find a word that adequately summed up the mass of emotions that swirled within him before finally settling on confused.

  “You’re better than that, or I’m a terrible judge of character.” Duvall paused. “I would trust you with my life, which I do on a regular basis anyway. I trust you with Mellissa.” Chowd didn’t know where to look. “I trust you with Meredith.”

  Chowd didn’t know how to respond, feeling like someone had just given him the world and the stars. But he couldn’t hope. Not until they remembered everything that kept him apart.

  “Duvall, I’m not even human.”

  “You are more human than most humans I know.”

  The words created a warm bubble of emotion within his chest. Acceptance. Duvall accepted him as a potential partner for his sister.

  He looked up at Raven, who stood unsmiling, watching Duvall. “So you did learn something from your outburst when Jemma and I finally got together?”

  Duvall nodded. “Yeah. I did. And now I’m using that to make sure you—” He spun back and pointed at Chowd. “—don’t mess up with my sister. Hurt her, and you’ll be sorry.”

  Raven smiled. “I need to get back to Jemma. With the Ishtar arriving, we have things we need to attend to, including getting her personal items transferred and arranging a communing ceremony.” A broad grin appeared on Raven’s face. “Oh, and wait ’til I tell her what you just said.”

  For just a minute, Chowd felt the bite of jealousy. Would he ever experience that joy? Better not to hope than to let it grow and see it dashed, he told himself, but somehow, that bubble remained, filling a part of the emptiness in his chest.

  Raven left, and Chowd looked at Duvall. “I won’t hurt her. At least, never intentionally, and I will protect her with my life.”

  He needed Duvall to understand. He and Grayson had known exactly who and what he was since the beginning of his association with the Admiralty. They were both aware of how hard he’d worked to fit in with the crew. Raven had entered their circle later, but now had integrated, becoming just as much a family member to Chowd as anyone ever could be.

  “I know, Chowd.”

  Duvall’s quiet words rocked him. He stood still for just a moment longer before he, too, left the office, making for his cabin and letting Duvall’s words filter through his mind as he fought to make sense of them.

  He didn’t usually consider himself indecisive, but this time his actions would have such wide-ranging impact. Its importance burned into his heart and mind so that by the time he had reached his cabin, he knew what he had to do. His very soul depended on taking the chance.

  He needed to shower before going to her, but when he checked his chrono he saw it was past 1100 hours. She was likely resting. So instead he showered, powered up his desk screen, and began the planning work. Hours later, though, hunger roared through him, and he had headed for the mess where he met her. Their conversation captivating him and leaving him confused. When she caressed his cheek, he couldn’t help himself. The need to touch her grew by the moment.

  It was the wrong time and the wrong place for a life-changing conversation, so he walked her back to her cabin, not touching her in any way, though his soul screamed for more, before heading back to his silent and empty cabin.

  His stomach clenched as he threw scenarios up in his head as he stripped down and climbed between the cool sheets. When to make a move? What to do? Not for the first time, he damned his own inexperience, flinging his arm over his eyes. He needed to sleep, but it took a long time for his eyelids to lower.

  * * * *

  The senior staff waited in the cold landing bay, impatient in their formal uniforms as the ambassador prepared to disembark from the larger shuttle sent from the Star of Ishtar.

  Meredith wanted to scratch the irritated skin under the itchy wool of her uniform, or at least peel the scratchy layers away, but she curled her hands in their formal white gloves instead.

  The ambassador exited the shuttle, followed by a blonde woman, who had a large bag slung over her crooked elbow. They had been informed that the ambassador was bringing his personal assistant, Ms. Portia Delfray, but Meredith hadn’t foreseen that she’d look like this. The woman was all angular points with a precision-perfect nose and tilted, almond-shaped eyes, hinting at either a far-removed Asian heritage or the help of an excellent facial-construction surgeon. She smiled broadly as she clattered down the steps, showing perfect snowy-white teeth and her impressive bosom—which Meredith felt sure wasn’t uplifted with the help of nature alone—barely contained in the tight, flimsy white blouse. She wore what Meredith guessed were at least nine inches of spiked heels.

  If Meredith didn’t know better, she would think the woman considered this akin to a career as either a vid star or model. She nearly growled at the sight of her wiggling in her tight, molded skirt which flaunted miles of perfect legs. “Stupid woman.”

  “Did you say something, Meredith?” Chowd spoke quietly, and Meredith started.

  “Oh, just a comment that she might need to be careful where she steps.” Meredith’s tone dripped with mock sweetness, and if she didn’t mishear, she was sure he stifled a tiny laugh.

  Refocusing on the meeting of Duvall and the ambassador, she controlled the irrational dislike.

  “Captain, it’s an honor to be here.”

  “Ambassador, the honor is ours. Welcome to the Elector.”

  “I’ve heard so much about this ship and your missions to date,” the ambassador said. The woman standing behind him all but tapped her foot and the ambassador shot her an indulgent smile. “Allow me to introduce my assistant. Portia Delfray.”

  Ms. Delfray looked at the women with a wide though rather forced smile, then she turned
her attention to Duvall. “Captain? Captain McCord? I’ve heard much about you,” she cooed, extending a hand, and Meredith wanted to cringe at the little-girl voice.

  Meredith looked back to the ambassador, assessing the man who smiled the quintessential politician’s smile, noting that it didn’t reach his eyes. He had to have achieved at least his fifth decade or even entered his sixth, judging by his salt-and-pepper hair, perfectly styled against his casual, blue flight suit. His carefully groomed eyebrows and hairless chin were in perfect proportion with his face. Clearly it had been surgically sculpted, and it remained line free in spite of his obvious middle age. Meredith considered the chances that his body had benefited from the use of a constructive surgeon, as nothing jiggled or drooped the way nature would have intended.

  The ambassador watched the woman as a tiny smile lit his pale-blue eyes, his lips curving at his personal assistant’s antics. I wonder what their relationship is outside of the office.

  “Uh, yes. Ambassador Vierghent? Allow me to introduce my crew.” Duvall’s voice was tight, and she felt amusement at the subtle hint of distaste in his tone. Good to see Duvall isn’t taken in by her fatuous fawning.

  The ambassador stepped forward, shaking each crewmember’s hand. Meredith noticed the woman beside him grimaced when introduced to Duvall’s wife and partner, Mellissa. As each male member stepped forward, her eyes widened and she flushed prettily. Probably all those rampant hormones. Meredith allowed the nasty thought to linger for an instant before brushing it aside.

  As each male officer introduced their partners, her face grew cold, the look becoming increasingly frigid as if she took personal affront to the lack of unattached males in the senior ranks of the crew. What does she think this is, some kind of luxury resort?

  Finally, Portia stepped in front of Chowd, and Meredith tensed slightly as the woman grasped his hand, smiling once more with that vacuous little-girl look as she batted what Meredith would bet were false eyelashes. Chowd exhibited a deer-in-the-headlights expression as she turned on the charm.

  “My sister, Warrant Officer Meredith Gentry. Meredith is the Chief Admiralty Cryptologist with advanced degrees in the study of the codes of Crick Sur Banden. She’s currently working on decoding the intercepted transmissions and ensuring we can understand the tactical maps and plans left behind on the Colony.”