Skyport Virgo 1 - Refuge (15 page)

Laleh realized she needed to be perfectly clear with her new friend about establishing boundaries. "Quinn, I'm married. Happily married," she added for good measure.

"I know."

"Do you? I'd like to be friends with you, but I just have to make sure we're on the same page."

"We're on the same page," Quinn assured her.

"Okay." Laleh nodded. "Then sure I'd love to get together on the Rec Deck."

"You free tomorrow evening? Say 1900 hours?"

"Sounds good. I'll meet you there." Laleh stepped off the elevator. "Bye!"

"Later."

She found Pike waiting for her. By the perturbed expression on his face, he'd recognized the voice of her elevator companion. Remembering how he'd acted the last time she'd been with Quinn, she decided to be completely up front with him. She wasn't about to let him dictate who she could and couldn't be friends with but respected his feelings enough to be honest.

"Yes, that was Quinn, and yes, we're getting together tomorrow evening on the Rec Deck." Laleh brushed her lips against his cheek. "Please don't blow your stack."

His jaw twitched but he remained calm. "I trust your judgment."

Pleased by his response, she smiled. "Good."

"How did your interview with the ambassador go?"

She bubbled with excitement. "You're looking at Skyport Virgo's new cultural attaché."

Pike's jaw dropped with surprise. He crushed her in a bear hug. "Congratulations!

That's great!"

"I was stunned," Laleh said as he released her. "I thought I was going to be offered a position as an assistant. I never imagined I'd be offered a place on the diplomatic service."

"I know it's not academic research, but I think it's perfect for you." He tipped her chin and kissed her. "I'm really happy for you."

Laleh tingled under his warm gaze. But then she remembered what else the ambassador had told her.

"What's wrong?" Pike seemed to sense her worry.

She sighed heavily. "When Ambassador Leroy pulled my file yesterday, he discovered an issue."

"What kind of issue?" Pike warily asked.

"Jai lodged a complaint with the Immigration office, disputing the issuance of a marriage license to me—us. They wouldn't give him the time of day, and he apparently became violent and was booted from Earth."

"You're worried he's going to pop up again, aren't you?"

"You don't know what he's like, Pike. He's not going to stop. It's about family honor now. Mother and I embarrassed my father by running away. Jai failed to bring me back.

Now I've married someone else." Laleh swallowed hard. "There's only one way to restore the family's honor."

Pike swore under his breath. Apparently, he understood the warped principles behind Hezman honor codes. He knew what she meant. A fierce look of protection flashed across his face. He cupped her cheek. "Laleh, he's never going to touch you again."

He spoke with such ferocity it shook her to the very core. The strongest sense of safety and security washed over her. Standing there, his hand on her face, she truly believed he could protect her from Jai, from anything. She just hoped her belief would translate into reality.

* * * *

Laleh nearly collapsed in a fit of giggles as Quinn threw yet another gutter ball. For a man so skilled in weapons and combat, he was an absolute nightmare with a bowling ball. He'd busted his butt on the first throw, his shoes sliding on the polished wooden floor. The sight of him flailing on the ground had nearly killed her. Laleh's ribs still ached from the laughing fit. How a man could leap through space from ship to ship but not have the balance to remain upright when launching a bowling ball confounded Laleh.

"That's it!" Quinn threw up his hands. "I'm done making a fool of myself today. You win."

Laleh pointed to the digital scorecard. "It's not much of a forfeit when you haven't a snowball's chance in hell of winning."

Quinn snorted and flopped down beside her on the retro style chairs. The bowling alley had been designed rather whimsically in a twentieth century style, the 1970s if Laleh remembered correctly. The garish color combinations—brown and orange and chartreuse—would have looked absolutely hideous anywhere else. Even the music blaring over the sound system was period appropriate.

As she sat back and sipped her soda, Laleh wondered if Pike liked to bowl. "I should bring Pike here," she mused aloud.

Quinn swallowed a mouthful of beer. "He won't come."

She frowned. "Why not?"

Quinn gestured around the bowling alley. "Take a look around, Laleh. Do you see any other officers?"

She didn't. "You're an officer."

"Non-commissioned," Quinn corrected. "The admiral is the highest ranking commissioned officer aboard this vessel. It would be completely inappropriate for him to fraternize with enlisted members."

Laleh started to object but realized Quinn was likely right. And it made her sad. Even in the mess hall, Pike sat apart from the general crew in an area populated with officers.

So where did he go to blow off steam? She knew there was an officer's club a few decks up but it hardly seemed like a place to go for a little fun. It was more of an upscale restaurant and bar.

Quinn stretched out his legs. "I don't envy him one bit. A lot of pressure on that man's shoulders." He shook his head. "You know he's the youngest admiral in the history of Spacefleet."

"I didn't," Laleh admitted, feeling a little guilty at how little she knew of her husband.

"Well he is," Quinn said. "After the Faltador Campaign, it's no surprise."

Laleh's interest piqued. The judge who'd married them had mentioned his daughter being injured in that conflict. "What was the Faltador Campaign?"

Quinn got a far-off look in his eye. His entire mood shifted from happy to somber.

"Thirteen months of the bloodiest fighting on the Outer Nine. We'd pushed the Scourge back and forced a retreat. They regrouped in the Faltador System and launched a brutal series of sustained attacks. They even hit us with terrorist attacks, blowing up our vessels from the inside out. Absolute nightmare."

He paused and rubbed his chin. After a long swig of beer, he continued with his tale.

"We'd lost thousands of Spacefleet members. Entire ships destroyed. Everyone knew the Faltador Campaign would make or break the war. When intelligence located the Hive, a massive floating vessel hosting almost the entire Scourge force, they decided to act swiftly, decisively."

Completely enthralled, Laleh leaned forward. "How?"

"The Admiralty loaded up the ships captained by their best and brightest with Spacefleet's most powerful bombs and sent them on a kamikaze mission." He stared into his mug. "My crew was held back on the second wave of contingency ships. We watched the live feed from the launch pad. I'll never forget it as long as I live. How Grayson or any of those who survived ever manage to get a wink of sleep, I'll never know."

Dread gripped her belly. "What happened?"

"The first wave of ships was detected and all hell broke loose. They took heavy fire.

You couldn't see much of anything on the video screens for all the explosions. Somehow, Grayson kept his ship, the
Icarus
, moving forward. They took a nasty hit to the weapon's deck. They couldn't launch anything. One of the other Spacefleet ships had managed to damage the Hive until they were sitting ducks. Another ship had slammed into their main weapon's system. They were finally vulnerable."

Laleh's stomach churned as she listened to the violent tale. "But?"

"No one knew how long the Hive would stay down. Admiral Grayson made the only choice he could. He ordered an immediate evacuation of the ship and set the
Icarus
on a collision course for the heart of the Hive."

"What's so bad about that?"

Quinn turned a grim face toward her. "Almost a fourth of the ship's crew couldn't jettison their escape pods. The
Icarus
had taken too much damage on that one side.

Grayson knew this, of course, but he didn't have any other choice. He knew the arithmetic of war. Sacrificing a few hundred lives saved hundreds of thousands of others."

She couldn't comprehend what she'd just heard. Her belly lurched at the idea of Pike sending so many to their deaths. She knew nothing of the realities of war and would never judge him for what he'd done. But she couldn't imagine how he'd borne that burden, how he'd lived every day knowing he'd sacrificed his own crew.

"I shouldn't have told you." Quinn seemed suddenly regretful. He sat forward and touched her jean-clad knee. "You have to understand, Laleh. The rules of the battlefield are nothing like those of civilized life. We do things out there…" His voice trailed off.

"Just don't look unkindly on your husband. His decision ended the conflict on the Outer Nine. Within Spacefleet, he's revered as a true hero, a leader willing to make the ugly choices that sometimes have to be made."

Laleh finally understood all the adoring looks of the cadets and the respect the
Spica
's crew showed him. And that haunted sadness she'd spied in his eyes that first night she'd met him. It all made sense.

Overwhelmed by the need to see him, Laleh stood rather abruptly. "I need to go."

Quinn nodded understandingly. "I'm sorry if I've upset you."

She touched his shoulder. "You haven't." Not wanting Quinn to feel awkward, she grinned mischievously. "Before we get together again, I'd suggest you practice your bowling game. It's pretty sad how thoroughly I whipped your ass tonight."

Quinn threw back his head and laughed. "Forget bowling. Next time we play pool."

"Deal."

Laleh ruffled his hair and headed toward the exits. She paused at the shoe counter to exchange her bowling shoes for her clogs. Ugly as they were, the orange clogs were delightfully comfy. She hurried through the various halls, rode a series of escalators, and hopped onto an elevator.

When she entered their quarters, Laleh found Pike lounging on the couch, bare feet propped on the coffee table. He'd obviously showered, the smell of his soap filling the air. Her gaze swept down his naked chest and abdomen. Only a pair of boxer briefs touched his skin.

Pike turned down the soccer match on the television screen. "You're home early."

And suddenly Laleh didn't know what to say. Maybe it was better not to say anything at all about what she knew. He looked so relaxed and content. Bringing up such an ugly memory seemed cruel.

She shrugged casually and kicked off her clogs. "Quinn's a terrible bowler. Didn't take me long to clean the floor with him."

Pike chuckled. "I know it's petty, but I'm really glad to hear that."

Laleh giggled and kissed his cheek. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone about your gloating." She snuggled close and idly rubbed his tummy. "So who's winning?"

"The red team." And by red team he meant the crimson-skinned players.

"Darnathians," Laleh said. "The red guys are from Darnathia."

"I wondered what that abbreviation stood for." Pike gestured to the scoreboard in the lower left hand corner of the screen.

"Interesting race," Laleh murmured as she drew her initials on Pike's skin.

"How so?"

"They have a rather unique mating ritual."

Pike's attention snapped to her face. "How unique?"

She rolled her eyes, not at all surprised the mention of sex had intrigued him so.

"When a male Darnathian reaches his twenty-fifth birthday, he visits a female matchmaker. She uses a system of star charts to find his perfect soul mate—another man.

They live together for eighteen months before visiting a second matchmaker, who is always a male, to find their female soul mate."

Pike looked skeptical. "Two men sharing one woman?"

"They have some of the highest rates of self-reported happiness in the Federation.

And it's not always just a threesome," she added. "Sometimes widows and widowers are folded into existing marital units."

Pike scoffed. "I don't buy that happiness bullshit for a minute. You expect me to believe there aren't any jealous flare ups?"

"It's a different culture, Pike. From birth, they're surrounded by polyamorous relationships. I'm sure they look at us and think we're nuts for pairing off. Maybe there's something to be said for variety in a long-term relationship. I'm sure there are other perks."

Pike eyebrows arched. "Is that so?"

Laleh's shoulders bobbed. "If a woman has two partners, she'd likely have a better chance of always having emotional support. If Partner A is having a rough week, Partner B can always step up to the plate. And sexually a woman with two partners might be more satisfied."

"Off!" Pike addressed the television as he jerked his feet from the table and turned on the couch. He gave her a hard look. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

"What?" Laleh was bewildered by his apparent unease.

"You just came from a bowling date with Quinn and now you're talking about the perks of threesomes. What am I supposed to think, Laleh?" Pike looked incredibly upset.

Laleh realized her blunder. "Ohmigod! No! I was just discussing Darnathians from a purely cultural and sociological standpoint." She moved closer and put her hands on his shoulders. "I am so not interested in that kind of relationship, Pike."

"Good thing," he gruffly replied. Possessiveness gleamed in his eyes. "I don't care to share what's mine."

Excitement rippled through her body. There was something so primitive about a man staking his claim on his woman. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "Me either."

Chapter Eleven

Pike rubbed his sleepy eyes and glanced at his alarm clock. It wouldn't chirp for another twenty-seven minutes. He considered slipping out of bed and into a shower, but the sensation of Laleh's warm naked body curled up against his kept him in place. Her cheek rested against his chest, her arm draped over his stomach. He stroked her hair and enjoyed a few minutes of relaxing silence.

They'd made good time, just a little over three weeks, crossing the various galaxies on their route. In a just a few short hours, the
Spica
would dock at Skyport Virgo, and Pike would relinquish command of the ship to Captain Arnot. Although the
Spica
remained his flagship, he likely wouldn't captain her again for at least two years. Once he relieved Admiral Bolanle, the temporary commander of the skyport, Pike's full focus would be on carrying out his orders on Virgo.