The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2) (59 page)

She wasn't certain that they would have full security here or that someone wouldn't manage to get some kind of eavesdropping equipment in place.  She had obtained a room whose narrow window looked out on the blank wall of the next building over, with just a sliver of sky dimly visible above.  Still, she hoped that their enemies would assume that Stavros merely had some tryst planned and not anything more sinister.

There was a sharp rap on the door and she checked the sensor she had mounted on it to confirm it was Mason before she opened it.  “Were you followed?”

He wore his most inconspicuous of Stavros's normal wardrobe, a black shirt, barely open at the top, and gray pants.  He gave her a smile as he slipped inside.  “Of course.  I shook them off at a brothel, though.”  

She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, so she let the comment slide.  She moved over to the room's single chair and gestured for him to take a seat on the bed.

He quirked an eyebrow at her as he took a seat, “What's the problem?”

Lauren took a moment to collect her thoughts.  “What are your intentions with Lucretta Mannetti?”  She didn't like the hard edge to her voice... yet she wasn't very good at hiding her disapproval.

He gave her a confused look, “Uh, find out her goals here, prevent her and Collae from stabbing your good Baron in the back, and maybe even find a way to bring the both of them down.”

“All well and good,” Lauren said.  “But where in there does a make-out session fall?”   
It's not like I'm jealous of her,
Lauren thought,
I'm just worried about the effect she might have on Mason. 
She saw Mason flush and then set back.  Something dark haunted his eyes for a moment.

When he finally spoke, his voice was even and measured, but she could hear how carefully he chose his words, “I'm not certain
how
you know about that, but I didn't plan for that to happen.  I'm not going to lie and say that some part of me doesn't respond to her... but I'm also repulsed by her.  There's some aspects of her that my darker nature are drawn towards.  The way she's wired, the mentality that she can manipulate everyone is disturbing to me, not least because it reflects some of my worst sociopathic tendencies.  She's dangerous in more ways than one, but my goals haven't changed.”

Lauren stood and put her hands on her hips, “So if you're not interested in her... shouldn't you think about how to handle the next little rendezvous she has planned?”

Mason's face went blank.  “I hadn't really thought of that.”

“She doesn't seem like the type to take 'it's not you, it's me' very well,” Lauren said.  “Matter of fact, there's a rumor that the Baron said something like that just before she stabbed him.”

Mason gave her a wry grin, “You do have a point there.”  His face went sober.  “Honestly, I was more focused on trying to earn her trust to find out her end game than I was concerned with what I'd have to do for her on a more... physical level.”

“Could you, if you had to?” Lauren asked.  “Get physical, I mean?”  For some reason, the question seemed very important to ask.

Mason looked away, “I suppose.  I've done worse.  But I really wouldn't want to do that.”

“Good,” Lauren said.  “Good... because I don't like the effect she seems to have on you.”  She certainly wasn't pleased because of any personal interest.  It was just that she didn't want Mason to revert back to the man he'd been.

Mason's blue eyes met hers and she licked her lips, suddenly nervous.  On impulse she leaned forward, caught his head in her hands and kissed him full on the lips.  A shock went through her as her lips met his.  It was like the shock she felt from when he had kissed her in the shuttle back at Port Klast, only a thousand times better for the fact that it was
her
decision.

She pulled back and her brown eyes met Mason's confused blue eyes.  “Well, I'm glad we settled that,” Lauren said with a wicked smile.  Her hands dropped to his shoulders and then the collar of his black shirt.  Before he could open his mouth to speak, she leaned in again.  This time the kiss was sharp, passionate, and full of hunger.  Her hands tugged and she heard the buttons snap off as she ripped his shirt open.

Mason grunted in surprise and denial.  Even so, his hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in tight.  As she broke the kiss for a moment of air, he met her eyes.  “This is a bad idea,” Mason said.  Even so, his arms only seemed to hold her tighter, as if he were afraid she would slip away.

“I think it's the best idea we've had since we left Faraday,” Lauren responded as she ran her hands down his chest.  Her fingers found the top of his belt and she smiled as she unhooked his belt buckle.  “Let me prove it.”

***

Tannis Mercenary Transport
Mule

Shadow Space

November 8, 2403

Garret grunted as he stared at his hand.  He was seriously coming to regret inviting some of the new crew to his poker night. 
I should have played spades,
he thought,
but Heller likes throwing games just to get a reaction and no one else in the squadron can keep up with me. 
“I call,” he said, putting as much confidence as he could into his voice, “and raise you.” He dropped two bags of his precious coffee in the pot.  They didn't normally play for cash, not aboard ship.  Instead, they played for the little luxuries that made life a bit more bearable.  Since they were on day four of their twelve day trip to Wenceslaus, they had some time to kill and the loss of those little luxuries was enough incentive to play for keeps.  The tiny, cramped freighter that acted as their carrier wasn't much more than bare metal cargo bays and engines, with a large shadow space drive so that their Hammers stayed inside its drive field.

Heller didn't even bother to pull her ear-buds out, “Fold.”  The diminutive blonde woman threw her cards down with no hesitation. 

Jude looked between Garret and Abigail Gordon.  The short, black man shook his head.  He peered at Garret warily and when he spoke, his thick accent was heavy with suspicion, “You can't be that confident.”

“Too rich for you, Derstele?” Abigail asked.

Jude frowned and slowly put his cards down and slid them over to where Clint had the discard pile.  The stocky man nodded slowly, “To rich for my blood.”

Jason pitched his cards without a word. Clint, who'd dealt the hand, scowled at his cards, and then back and forth between Abigail and Garret.  The older man squinted at Abigail uncertainly, “Call.”  He pushed a box of cigars into the pot, next to the two bags of coffee and the pile of gourmet chocolates.  Garret cocked an eyebrow at Abigail as the bet went back to her.

Caela had already folded and just shook her head, “I can't get a hand to save my life.”

Abigail smiled confidently, “I call.”  She looked over at Clint, who dealt the final cards.  She didn't even look at her last card, “All in.”  She pushed her current winnings, some scented soap bars, two vouchers for a massage spa on Halcyon, and some hand-rolled cigarillos from New Paris.

Garret winced.  He could cover that with his coffee stash... but only just.  If he lost, he'd be drastically low on the precious brew until his next shipment would arrive.  Still, he couldn't let the others think the young ensign had bluffed him.  He would never live
that
down. 
The smirk on Heller suggests that she'll give me enough crap as it is,
he thought darkly.  “I call.”  He pushed four of his five bags of coffee into the pot.

Clint fingered his cards and finally shook his head.  “I'm out,” he said.  “Show your hands.”

Abigail whooped and flipped her cards, “Four Jacks, you got nothing, right?”  Garret blanched and pitched his pair of aces.  “I knew it!” Abigail crowed, “I'm the winner!”  She drew her winnings to her with a giggle, “Sorry, Captain, but you're just as easy to read as I remember.”  She held up the coffee bags, “And I don't even drink this stuff.”

Garret shook his head.  He remembered, vaguely, playing cards with Jessica, her father, and Abigail over a decade previously, but he hadn't remembered her being so lucky.  Then again, he'd been more focused on Jessica at the time. 
As I remember it,
he thought,
I kept throwing hands to let her kid sister win so Jessica would like me more.

“Another hand?” Clint asked, somewhat hopefully.  Jason, his normal backup for playing just shook his head.  Jude grunted sourly and shook his head as well.

Heller shrugged, ear-buds still in, “I could play more.”  She hadn't really lost much, Garret knew.  Heller, as in all things, was a calculating and shrewd woman... when she wanted to be.

Abigail looked somewhat conflicted.  “I've got to run a full hundred hour scheduled maintenance on my Hammer before we get to Wenceslaus.”  That would probably take her even longer than most, Garret knew.  Not because she didn't know her business, more because she was incredibly thorough.  Better, with her father's guidance, she knew mechanical systems very well and she had already caught a couple of their flight mechanics errors.  Showing them up like that bruised some egos, but it also made them work that much harder.  “Sorry, I got to go.”

“That leaves four?” Clint asked as Abigail, Jason and Jude left the cramped room.  It was, officially, a supply room on the tiny vessel.  Since the Hammer's flight crews ate a lot, that meant they'd managed to condense the supplies out of it early on in their twelve day journey.  It currently served as their lounge.

“Yep,” Garret said.  He still had the one bag of coffee and though Heller was devious enough to take it, he felt like he had to get
some
luck back at this point.

Caela smirked, “Now that the Captain's girlfriend is gone, maybe I can get some good cards.”

Garret felt his face go hard and he glared at the pilot, “You watch your tone.  She's not my girlfriend... and she
is
an officer.”  As mercenaries went, that didn't hold as much weight as in a professional military.  It did, however, hold enough weight that Caela, as a warrant officer, should never make a comment like that... especially not in front of Clint, who was another officer.

Heller pulled her ear-buds out, “Caela, shut your pie-hole.  You're just jealous that she's got a nicer butt than you.”

The warrant officer flushed, but even Garret snorted at the comment.  Caela was notorious for both being extremely conceited and also for sleeping around with the other pilots.  As always, Heller managed to diffuse the situation in a way that made the troublemaker look silly and without picking sides.

Clint looked around at the three of them, “Uh, cards?”

Caela frowned, “I think I'm done here,” she said, venomously.  She pushed away from the table and all but stomped out of the room.

Clint groaned, but he put up the cards.  “Shit, now I'm seriously down on trade goods for the rest of the voyage and she'll be all pissy and not want to play, Captain.”

Garret shook his head, “She should watch what she says, then.”

Clint just shrugged and stepped out.  Garret looked over at Heller, “Really?”

Heller gave him a smirk as she put her ear-buds back in, “What, Captain?  I'm right, your girlfriend has a much nicer butt than Caela.”

***

Wenceslaus System

Colonial Republic

November 16, 2403

Mason gave another glance at Lauren, but much like the past two weeks, she wore no expression beyond her professional mask in public.  His own emotions about her were such a complex tangle that he didn't really know what to make of that.  On the one hand, he couldn't deny the physical attraction he felt for her, had indeed felt for some time.  It went beyond that, really, to a respect of both her capabilities and her determination.  On the other hand, his history of relationships, ranging from friends to lovers was one that had left far more broken and battered lives than he even wanted to contemplate.  The one constant in that category was the sooner someone got as far away as possible the happier they were likely to be in the long run.  Once again he thought of Arela Savino and how the warm, caring woman had turned into a cold, sociopath
he
had eventually walked away from.

What he felt for Lauren wasn't the simple physical draw that Lucretta Mannetti gave him.  That was there, to be sure, but there was something more, something Mason hadn't felt in so long that he hesitated to name it.  It seemed absurd and part of Mason wanted to reject it all out of hand.  Yet, there was no denying it and no denying the longing that kept him awake at night.

Kandergain cleared her throat and Mason tore his gaze away from Lauren to meet her eyes.  The psychic woman had a slight smile on her face, as if she knew exactly what was going through his head. 
No,
he thought,
even a psychic couldn't read my mind when I don't know it myself.
Got to be a female thing, he decided, they always seem to know or understand way too much when it came to relationships.

“We're almost there, Captain Stavros,” Kandergain said.

Mason grimaced, “Lauren, bring us to battle readiness.  Mark, message Commodore Moore with our time to destination and the latest update from Captain Oronkwo.”  They had updated the Commodore and the other vessels before, but it didn't hurt to remind them.  Mason glanced at the latest update.  The military ships were mostly at dock, all but a half dozen destroyers in the alert force.  Those destroyers were at alert status, which meant their drives were online and their reactors were at standby power, ready to go to full power with even a few minutes warning.  Captain Oronkwo hadn't wanted to risk going close enough to identify the destroyers classes, not that Mason blamed him.  There
had
been a slight upgrade to the system's sensor net, primarily in tight orbit over the inhabited planet, Bohemia.  The obvious objective was to cut down on smuggling, but it also prevented the mercenary captain from getting close enough for accurate visual inspection.  Short of one of the ships going to full power for a full emissions signature, Oronkwo couldn't get a good read on them.  In any case, those six destroyers were the primary targets for most of their raid force's firepower.  Mason felt no real temptation to try a repeat of his previous attack at the Ottokar system.  For one thing, the RLF ships at Wenceslaus had a nastier reputation, for another, anything less than lethal force would not be enough to dissuade the docked ships.  Strong as their force was, the station had over a dozen cruisers and enough fighters to swarm them under if they launched all at once.