Sex or Suffer [Dark Colony 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (8 page)

Pretty much everyone else was either a robotic drone or a temporary crew member with limited duties. The exceptions being, Doc, the Artificially Intelligent robotic being in medical and Lucas Kershner, his engineer. There were also a few second string personnel he rarely used because their skills were not up to his standards, but he’d grabbed anyone willing to fly right before departure.

The killer schedule on the bridge was one he only intended to apply to himself as Captain of the ship. He’d brokered the deal to gain something for his business. The sacrifice pumped him up and the reward from the arrangement between himself and Dr. Drake made it all worthwhile.

To say she intrigued him was the understatement of the millennium. He’d already resisted the urge to pump Angelica for any tidbits of information regarding their singular guest. The new plan he created alone on the command deck had to do with remaining aloof. He’d let his crew handle Dr. Drake and her needs during the trip across the galaxy.

Glancing at the time, he took a deep breath and tried not to think about the fact that Dr. Drake’s room sat directly next to his for the duration of this long journey. She and her sultry voice would be merely an insolated wall away from him during his off hours, what few hours off he managed to snag anyway.

“Captain?” Angelica had entered the command deck before he shook himself from his reverie of whether Dr. Drake’s sultry voice matched her body.

Gray straightened in his seat, clutching the latest fuel consumption report on his handheld computer. “Is our passenger still all tucked in?” He pretended to read the fuel report as he listened for her answer.

“Yes, sir.”

“She give you any trouble?”

“No, sir. Not at all.” Angelica’s startled tone made him abandon the dry report and turn to see her expression.

“In fact, she seemed very grateful. She asked me to tell you she appreciated your judicious urgency in this matter.” Angelica’s eyebrow went up likely in speculation of whether he knew what those scholarly words meant or not. He didn’t reply.

She took a step closer. “Were you expecting her to be difficult?”

He shrugged and looked away to hide is surprise over Dr. Drake not being a prima donna. “Not exactly. She just came across as a little high-handed when initiating this trip.”

“Hmm. Well, perhaps her lung condition was bothering her. For now, she’s calmed down.” Angelica walked closer and stood next to his chair.

“Good.” After Angelica had gone off duty, Gray had expected Dr. Drake to contact him demanding any number of special requests once she was in the assigned cabin, but after six hours on duty, he hadn’t heard a peep from her.

To that end, he wondered briefly what Angelica was doing here on the bridge. “Aren’t you about six hours early for your next shift, Lieutenant Brice?” He only used her rank and last name to assert the slim to non-existent authority he held over Angelica.

“I’m instigating a rotating six hour shift schedule to be shared between you, me and Ensign Cahill for the first forty eight hours aboard during this journey.”

“Because?”

She sent him a withering glare. “Because as you well know sir, you’ve been awake now for at least twenty five hours.”

“I’m fine.”

“And you’ll be even better with about ten hours of sleep. I know I feel refreshed with just five and a half. Ensign Cahill will relieve me in six hours. You may come back in twelve hours.”

Gray turned what was surely a blood-shot gaze in her direction. “God save me from your exuberant bossiness, Lieutenant Brice…and bless you. I’ll be back in twelve, but tell Cahill to call
me
if anything unusual occurs during his next shift.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

He lifted himself out of the captain’s chair and handed Angelica the fuel consumption report. “Some light reading for you.”

She rolled her eyes and climbed into the chair he’d vacated.

Gray made his way through the narrow halls of the ship to his cabin and passed the sealed door of his elusive passenger. Too tired to conjure any intrigue over Dr. Drake at the moment, Gray slipped into his quarters, set the alarm for six hours and fell face forward into his bunk fully clothed.

His last thought was a mental note and personal vow to contact his only passenger once he woke up for the next shift to ensure she had everything she needed. He was already dreaming about Dr. Drake’s sultry voice before his head settled on his pillow.

* * * *

Angelica Brice read, approved and filed the fuel consumption report Captain Wyckoff had handed off in the first few minutes of her shift. Reveling in the fact she was in total command of the
Dalton
gave her a spike of pleasure that traveled all the way inside her bones. She was more grateful than she could ever express for the Captain’s unwavering trust in her capabilities.

The reason she’d agreed to be on this unusual spontaneous flight was so she could get some quality time to be second in command. Opportunities to sit in the captain’s chair were few and far between and Angelica always took every chance for advancement.

Captain Wyckoff’s primary first officer, Lieutenant Commander Nathan Tyndall, was yet another excellent officer and a good friend. When Nathan was on board he held this lofty position and Angelica was then relegated to third in command.

All things considered, Angelica considered herself extremely lucky to be in the regular third position here. But top dog was very nice on occasion. The third in command for this spontaneous trip was Ensign Jeremy Cahill, who’d be relieving her in a few minutes.

Angelica looked forward to twelve hours of personal time. Six of which she might inquire as to Cahill’s interest in a little temporary onboard romance. It was a forbidden concept as there were loose fraternization rules in place, between those in a particular chain of command, but still she’d watched Cahill very carefully since he’d started on the
Dalton
. He was an excellent worker with a good attitude and he wielded an encyclopedic knowledge of galaxy regulation which she had to admit turned her on a little.

What turned her on a lot was Cahill’s physique. He’d spent several of what she called his formative years in the military and his body still bore the evidence of the extra muscles needed for that career. She’d seen him working out in the on-board athletic room a few months ago and hadn’t been able to get him out of her mind since. Cahill was one of the first to volunteer when the Captain called everyone in to offer the opportunity before disembarking at Bravura.

Behind her the doors to the command deck slid open with a nearly soundless whoosh of air. Angelica sensed him enter like a premonition of dark and determined discovery. Cahill earned a silent brownie point in her mind because he arrived promptly to relieve her.

“Lieutenant,” he said.

“Ensign,” she returned without looking around.

His footfalls marched across the expanse to where she sat in the Captain’s chair. Once he stood next to her, he murmured, “Ready to give up control for a few hours, Lieutenant?”

Angelica wished he meant it as a double entendre, but knew he didn’t. It was a pity.

After a year and a half of no contact or significant conversation beyond work-related mission status between them, she changed her outlook of Ensign Cahill several months before.

She’d started with subtle hints the day after seeing him in the athletic room. She then dropped less subtle hints on each subsequent day she come across him on the ship until all these months later, she had almost given up. But not quite yet. Perhaps he needed an even more blatant nudge. Perhaps she’d think one up once he came off duty in six more hours.

Angelica held high hopes of a possible liaison. Perhaps when they were both off duty at the same time. With the limited crew of this special voyage, maybe he’d be more willing to consider an assignation with her. A secret, forbidden exchange of sexual pleasure remained her ultimate goal. Cahill had avoided her not so subtle inquiries likely because he worried about what would happen “after” their rendezvous was complete. Angelica could assure him she had no permanent intentions.

The sheer beauty of his muscled body was the starring feature in all her late night fantasies, but if anything ever happened between them, she wouldn’t let it interfere with their work life. She had too much at stake and too much to lose to pine after anyone for a long term relationship.

Cahill’s mere presence in the immediate area sent her pulse into the red zone. Angelica mentally shook herself. She wasn’t quite ready to reveal her intentions just yet.

Clearing her throat, she finally responded, “I suppose you can be trusted with the ultimate power of his chair for a few hours. The captain said to call him if any trouble arises during your shift. He’ll be relieving you in six hours.” She lifted from the captain’s chair offered him the hand-held computer dedicated to the command deck.

“Right.”

The second he grabbed for the computer a shock zapped from the device and ran up her arm. An arc of blue snapped off the small computer and into the air between them. Once dissipated, a loud hollow thump rocked the command deck, and the power went off along with the lights. With the outer windows covered and hiding the stars, the thick shadow of pitch black draped over her completely. Eyes wide open, she knew she wouldn’t be able to see her hand in front of her face if she put her fingers against her nose.

After a slow count of three, Cahill reached for her in the dark, settling his fingers on her upper arms. Even in the fear-inducing darkness of the blackout, Cahill’s hands gripping her shoulder sent a pulsing delight straight to her moistening core. Her heart pounded in arousal at his mere touch. The inky black air around them ignited her imagination like no other aphrodisiac. She leaned towards him and his utterly male scent.

A millisecond later, the power came back up, and unfortunately his hands dropped from her shoulders, but the impression of arousal from his light contact remained behind.

Angelica ignored the consequences of finally having him touch her and called out, “Computer? Report. What was that?” to the on-board computer mainframe always standing by to deliver immediate status of the ship.

“
Power surge
,” the computer’s flat voice came back with immediately.

“From where?”

“
Unknown origin
.”

“Any damage to the outer hull of the ship?”

“
Scanning.
” And then seconds later. “
No hull damage found on primary scan. Running detailed auxiliary search of all interior defenses. Results will be available in twenty three minutes and thirteen seconds.
”

“Send it to the command deck and Ensign Cahill,” Angelica returned.

“What do you think
that
was?” Cahill chuckled nervously.

She shrugged, but it always bothered her when something out of the ordinary happened when she was on deck. “Don’t know. A glitch, maybe? The ship’s petulant protest at the unexpected trip instead of docking for R and R?”

Cahill grinned. “Petulant protest?”

She inhaled, deeply drawing his freshly showered scent into her lungs once more and exhaled very slowly to calm down. “Just stay alert and keep an eye out for unusual activity.”

“Such as power outages or more petulance?”

“Either.” Angelica half turned to exit the deck. “But if it happens again, call the captain.” She paused in her step and added, “And then call me as well.”

Nodding, Cahill slipped his beautifully shaped butt into the captain’s chair. Angelica thought authority looked very nice resting on his shoulders.

“Sleep well, Lieutenant Brice.”

“Thank you, Ensign Cahill.”
I’ll be dreaming about you and reliving your touch tonight.

* * * *

Penelope opened her eyes and saw black. She mashed her eyes shut again, opened wide…and still saw black. Was she blind? Dreaming? Descended fully into the darkness of Hell for all the blatant lies she’d told in the last few hours?

The lights came back on in that instant, forcing a squint of protection from her wide eyes and likely even wider pupils. She sat up and dislodged the coverlet from her body. Had she just dreamed she was blind or had the lights been out? Blinking awake, she didn’t see anything different. How odd.

With so few clothes to her name for this sudden trip, Penelope slept in a skimpy camisole undershirt and one of three pair of panties she’d scrounged from her locker at work. She didn’t have to be a fashion plate to complete her plans. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she scrubbed her hands roughly across her cheeks to wake up.

During the first few hours of her journey, she’d rested fitfully. She’d eaten one of the pre-packaged meals and discovered it was tastier than upon first inspection. Maybe camping in here wouldn’t be so bad after all. Likely the worst part would be the isolation. She only had eleven minutes of air left in her suit which didn’t give her much socializing time for the duration of the trip. Talking to others aboard with a mask strapped to her face created another predicament she’d just as soon avoid if possible. Look at the crazy pathetic woman with the mask was an expression she’d rather not pursue for the sake of camaraderie aboard this vessel.