How had he become so necessary to her in such a short amount of time? Planets formed over millions of years, yet her own system had changed tremendously within a few days. No wonder her gravity was out of alignment.
Kell saw her looking at him, and bent close. Welcome home, he murmured for her ears alone.
A confused flush spread through her. Home. Hers, if she wanted it to be.
Gods, she needed time alone to think.
8th Wing officers came forward, trying to look stern but largely failing.
You look shocked to see me, sirs. Kell drew himself up so he seemed, if possible, even taller.
Only surprised to have you back so quickly, Commander, a captain answered.
We placed bets, said another commander.
Kell raised a brow.
Who won?
Ensign Neta.
A young woman with an ensigns single stripe hooted. Thats five hundred creds and Lieutenant Orji has to clean my bunk for a solar month.
Someone, presumably Lieutenant Orji, groaned. Shes messier than that sipkaswine Ensign Garek smuggled aboard.
Status, Lieutenant Jur, said a captain.
Jur, looking tired but relieved, answered, A little weary and bruised, maam, but Im in fighting form. She eyed the medical personnel working their way toward her. I dont think the doctors are necessary.
Standard procedure following a rescue mission. Go, Lieutenant.
Jur saluted and made to follow the medical personnel. Before she departed, she turned to Mara and stuck out her hand.
They strong-armed me into the mission, Mara said. Thanks arent necessary.
But the lieutenant smiled. What I saw werent the actions of someone being coerced. You had your own stake in the mission. Her gaze slid toward Kell, talking with an officer.
And you? Mara struggled to keep the tension from her voice.
Jurs smile turned melancholy at the edges. That ship has flown. It flew away years ago. Then she left with the medical team, with a volley of new applause following her as she departed the docking bay.
The captain noticed Kells arm still wrapped around Maras shoulders, but said only, You two must be exhausted and, she added, eyeing their wounds, you need treating, as well. Commander Rigg, escort the commander and our honored guest to the medical bay.
Honored guest? Mara repeated.
That you are. Kells gaze was a warm caress. The 8th Wing is honored by your presence. As they should be.
Shouts of agreement rose up from the assembled crowd.
She had no answer to that, to them. She felt herself dropped into someone elses lifesomeone who did not run with criminals, who was not an exile. Someone who belonged . A similar feeling to whenever she had set foot in that tawdry bar on Ryge. But here, the currency was honor, not cunning.
That life was lost to her now.
Her chest tightened with panic. She belonged to no one, and no one would have her.
She told herself that again, when Commander Rigg escorted her and Kell from the docking bay and more cheers sounded from the throng. Disturbing, to walk through the 8th Wing ship and see not suspicion or curiosity in the faces that passed her, but welcoming smiles.
It did not take long for her wounds to be cleaned and mended. The medical team worked quickly,
with a minimum of fussing, which she appreciated. She remembered the hovering nurses and nannies from her childhood, the oppressive atmosphere that barred her from playing outside like other children, lest she hurt herself. Of course, that had made her desire to sneak off and roughhouse with the groundskeepers children all the stronger.
She sat on an exam table, watched from across the room as medics treated Kells leg. His pants had been cut open, exposing the hard muscles of his calf and thigh and the burned flesh surrounding the plasma pistol wound. Even though the treatment required a bit of probing and some heat sutures, he bore it all with stoicism, talking the entire time with Commander Rigg and giving no notice to the painful work being done on his leg. Yet in the middle of all this, he caught her staring at him and sent her a look of searing, carnal intent. It was a wonder the medical team crossing between them didnt burst into flames.
Her pulse hammered, and her body responded immediately, growing sensitive and aware. She wriggled on the examining table as she glanced away. It had been too long since she touched Kell, felt his body against and within hers. Her need for him frightened her. Somehow, she would have to acclimate herself to this new paradigm: life without Kell.
But what new life awaited her?
Ms. Skiren. A fresh-faced lieutenant stood beside the exam table. Do you think you have the energy for a debriefing?
Im not 8th Wing. I cant be debriefed. She raised an eyebrow. Unless its mandatory, and Im being taken into custody.
Whats the problem, Lieutenant? Kell, against the protests of the medical tech, stood and crossed the bay, scowling.
No problem, sir, said the lieutenant at once. Command just wants to get Ms. Skirens statement about the mission, and then shes free to go.
Am I not free now?