He was leaner than Kell, but no less potent, his 8 thWing uniform hugging wide shoulders and clinging to tight, muscled arms. Hed moved with power in SimCom, his legs long and strong. And, yes, Celene had seen his ass. Taut and sculpted, it was the kind of behind a woman fantasized about digging her nails into.
Yeah, I can see how much you arent noticing, Mara observed.
So my eyesight works. Doesnt matter. All I need is for him to track the power signature and stay out of my way when I take Marek down. The best she could ever hope for with any man was a quick tumble and an even quicker retreat, before his inevitable disappointment when it was revealed that, yes, she had the same emotional needs as any living being. It would never go that far with Calder. Especially not on a mission.
She strode toward the Phantom. We ready to go?
Calder closed a side panel on the ship and dusted off his hands. She tried not to stare at his thighs as he wiped his palms on them. I ran one final diagnostic protocol. Were good.
All your gears aboard?
The lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest. Ive been on missions before, Lieutenant Jur.
Good. Because this mission is too important to risk on a nebula newbies inexperience. She didnt like the sharpness of her tone, but this mission was crucial. Nothing could be left to fate.
No communication with base unless its an absolute emergency, the admiral directed. Stealth is essentialanother reason why you need the Phantom. Since it can hold you both for longer journeys, theres no need to compromise security by docking at any stations. It will be just you two on that ship, for as long as it takes.
Understood. As Calder spoke, his gaze flicked over to Celene, and a flush darkened his cheeks.
She felt an answering heat in her own face. This was ridiculous. Shed been on long missions before, with other men, and felt nothing, only the need to complete the objective. This must be no different. She had to be Stainless Jur, invulnerable, an ace pilotnever a woman.
Well depart as soon as the last protocols are run, she said.
Ive run them all, Calder answered. We can leave immediately.
Good luck, Lieutenants. The admiral gave them a salute, which they returned. Youve got the 8 thWing depending on you.
I wont fail, maam, she said.
We wont, Calder added.
She glared at Kell and Mara when they both smirked. But every mission was dangerous, this more so than any other, so she shook hands with her friends, knowing that there was always the possibility that this could be the last time she ever saw them.
Kell glanced over at Calder, who was speaking with the admiral. Youve got a good man in your corner. Dont underestimate him.
Coming from Kell, one of the toughest men she knew, those simple words carried tremendous weight.
I wont.
Fly strong. Kell gave her shoulder a squeeze.
She smiled. I will.
Well have that competition when you get back, Mara said.
Get ready to be humiliated.
Serve it up, Jur, because Im hungry.
The two women grinned, bound by the need to be better than everyone elseespecially each other.
Shall we, Lieutenant? Calder stood at the door to the Phantom. If he had any fear about the dangers they were about to face, he didnt show it. He stood light on his toes, his hands loose at his sides, looking ready to put himself in the thick of danger.
She nodded and headed into the ship. Calder was not her first choice for a partner, but at least she could be glad that he wanted retribution just as much as she did.
How many?
Calder looked up from the tracking screen. He blinked at her, as if having forgotten that she sat beside him in the Phantoms cockpit. For the past solar hour, theyd been flying without speaking except to adjust their course, moving through the vast darkness toward their objective.
How many missions have you been on? Celene asked.
Ah. He stared down at the tracking screen again and watched the faint pulse of light that indicated the power signature. They were still too far out to determine the actual distance away, but at least Calder had the skill to pick up even the thinnest trace. Still, he hesitated before speaking. Three.
She kept her hands on the controls, but gaped at him. What?
I said
I heard you. She shook her head. At least tell me they were combat missions.
His gaze slid away. Research and discovery.
Research. She cursed. They saddled me with a damned cub.
When his gaze met hers again, it flared with anger. Not a cub. Im an officer. And Ive already proven that I can handle myself.
In a controlled environment. We dont know what were going to face at the end of this signal. She tapped the tracking screen. Whatever comes, I need an experienced fighter at my side, one who can handle anything thrown in his path.
Ill carry my weight. His voice was tight, his jaw hard. They held each others gaze, neither willing to budge. Finally she broke the stalemate, turning back to face the window.
Yes, Im being a hardass. She stared out at the passing stars, the hundreds of worlds bound together in the galaxy. Some were allies, others werent, and everything she saw was threatened by PRAXIS. A very long time ago, the 8 thWing had actually been part of PRAXIS, serving as part of its military force. But when the goals of PRAXIS turned from the betterment of the galaxy to its exploitation, the 8 thWing had rebelled. It formed a resistance group, retaining its name as a show of defiance. That same spirit of disobedience and willingness to battle ran through every member of the 8 thWing. Including, it seemed, the engineers.