CHAPTER 45

His eyes are molten. I let myself look my fill for the first time in months, and I note he’s thinner, cheekbones jutting like jagged rocks, and his face holds a weariness that no sleep can assuage. He’s letting me see it. The shields are down. No longer does he play the role of commander with me.

I take a step toward him. Suddenly it doesn’t matter that he put the good of the ship ahead of us. Would he be the man I love if he had chosen differently?

His arms go around me, and he buries his face in my hair. I can hear his heartbeat, thumping too fast beneath my ear. I wind my arms around his waist.

“I love you,” I whisper. “It won’t go away because I can’t have you in my bed.”

Maybe he had a flicker of doubt. Maybe he thought because I fell for him—though I didn’t want to—after Kai died, that I’m still the woman who loves the one she’s with. But it was never like that between us. It’s more that March proved himself the man I didn’t know I wanted but always needed.

He breathes, “I need you. It’s killing me.”

The ache blazes to life in me as well when I remember how he took me in here on this very ship. We could do it again. Nobody would know.

Against the door, in his pilot’s chair. I don’t care where.

Long tremors shake through me. It’s too much, being this close to him. No wonder he’s been avoiding me. I didn’t know until this second just how much I had shoved back and compartmentalized, and it’s threatening to break me in two.

“Me, too,” I whisper.

March lifts me, as if he can’t control himself. We’re not supposed to, bad for morale, but I don’t have any self-denial left. He rocks against me through our clothes, and I’m utterly undone.

“We’re not going to,” he murmurs. I don’t know if he’s trying to convince himself or me. “I just need to feel you.”

I guess he hasn’t noticed; I’m not exactly fighting him off. Instead I curl my fingers into his waist, pulling him closer. Searching under his jacket I find a strip of hot, silky skin. He shudders at my touch.

Helpless, he mirrors the movement, his fingers skimming my bare belly. These touches are tiny, almost innocent, but I’m so hungry for him, the contact leaves me reeling.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” the docking officer says over the comm. “We’re working on some things with Chancellor Tarn on our end. We want everything to be perfect when you arrive, Commander.”

With little sigh of loss, he pulls away and goes to answer. “It’s not a problem. Just keep me posted.”

When he returns to me, I sense he’s taken a step back from completely unprofessional behavior. But he puts his arms around me again, and I take comfort in it.

He rubs his cheek slowly back and forth across the top of my head. “I just keep pushing you. Testing you. I’m not doing it on purpose . . . Circumstances dictate my choices, but deep down, I’m afraid I’ll hit your breaking point. That you’ll decide it’s more trouble than it’s worth—and I’m not worth waiting for.”

It’s time for me to say something I should have, ages ago. “You’re worth everything. I’ve changed because of you. You inspire people, make them want to be better and stronger than they ever thought they could be. Who else could’ve cobbled together an armada from the dregs of society?”

“And yet, it’s not enough.”

“It will be,” I say firmly. “It must be. We haven’t seen the endgame. There may yet be some surprises.”

He raises his head then, his face stark. “We’re at the wall, Jax, and I cannot see the door from here.”

I understand his despair. Somewhere in the silence of space, three thousand Morgut ships muster against us. The idea of fighting such a force seems laughable.

“These are the worst odds yet,” I agree.

“I can bear anything, as long as I know you’re with me.”

I reach up and touch his face, tracing his features with my fingertips. March closes his eyes as if I offer a pleasure too sharp to be borne. At length he turns into my caress, sealing his lips against my palm.

“I am with you. You are my captain, my commander, and my love. Neither war nor death will change it.”

His hands curve around my back, holding me tighter. “I couldn’t survive losing you. It nearly destroyed me, thinking I had.”

I shake my head. “You can’t consider that. You were wise in saying we had to put distance between us. This is not the time for personal concerns.”

“When will it ever be?” he demands.

“I can’t answer that.”

Responsibility weighs on him today. He’s feeling the burden of all the lives resting on his shoulders, and there’s nothing I can do. My one consolation is that I don’t see the cold detachment building in him. This is a different kind of war from the one he fought against humans in tunnels.

“Do you ever wish you’d answered differently?”

I tilt my head, puzzled. “When?”

“Back on New Terra, when I asked you to come away with me.”

“You suggested we grow rutabagas.” Much as I love him, I can’t regret not becoming a farmer. That would’ve meant sacrificing one great love for another.

“You didn’t think that was your only option, did you?”

To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it too much. Back then, I didn’t realize he was seriously asking me something. He’s the mind reader, not me.

“I didn’t want a life where I had to stay in one place,” I tell him gently.

“So you’re not sorry.”

Warmth surges through me. He’s touched my mind at last, trying to get a sense of how I feel. “Here, as we teeter on the brink, I’m in your arms. So no, I’m not sorry.”

March draws back, incredulous. “You think we’ll figure some way out of this.”

“We always have before.”

“If I didn’t know better, Jax, I’d call that faith.”

I nod. “In you, not indifferent gods.”

He kisses me then, his hands in my hair. For one glorious moment, I’m overflowing with him. The loneliness recedes, and I’m reminded why I wait for him, why nobody else will do.

A crackle from the comm pulls him from me. With an apologetic look, he takes his seat. “This is the Triumph.”

“You’re cleared to enter our airspace,” the docking officer tells him. “And landing vectors have been transmitted and received.”

Like any good pilot, March double-checks before initiating the landing sequence. “Acknowledged, control. We’ll see you shortly.” He glances at me. “You should probably take a seat in case there’s turbulence.”

“Is that code for ‘please, stay’?” I raise a brow as I settle into the nav chair.

He shakes his head. “No code. I’ll say it straight-out—please stay. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Sure I do.”

March taps the comm. “We’re landing shortly. All crew should be prepared.”

New Terra swells before us: Patchwork land deepens into contour and texture, then I can begin to make out details as the Triumph angles downward. We won’t be visiting Ankaraj this time. Since we left, Tarn has seen to the construction of a new capital complex in a more hospitable city.

We put down in Ocklind, a more temperate locale. Since we’re VIPs instead of fugitives, disembarkation doesn’t take long. Long lines of people snake all the way to the far doors, and they offer us ugly looks when they see we’re not joining the queue. Instead, officials wave us through the checkpoints, manned by an embarrassment of Peacemaker units. These bots wear enough ordnance to pacify a small country.

But it’s not the droids that cool the heat of resentment in these folks. “Mary’s grace! That’s the Armada commander. Something big must be brewing.”

“They saved a bunch of colonists out on Dobrinya asteroid,” someone else says. “Saw it on the midnight bounce.”

Unlike Perlas, they recognize him, not me. That makes me so proud.

On the other side, we find the docking officer. “Welcome back to New Terra.”

“Thanks. The rest of our crew will arrive shortly.” March glances back as if looking for them.

I spot Doc and Evelyn heading our way. Nearly joined at the hip, they are. Even if it’s a strictly working relationship, I can’t help feeling sorry for Rose. It’s five minutes before she arrives, and Doc looks surprised, as if he thought she’d stay on ship. Which makes no sense, considering we’re on New Terra and not some Podunk outpost.

Dina ambles up, the slow stride camouflaging her limp. Her expression is brighter than I’ve seen it for a while, though, and I’m positive I know why.

I grin. “She’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

“They were near a jump zone when our message came in. So, yeah, she will.”

That means they made it. I hadn’t realized how afraid I was that Kora and Hit might’ve been among those six vessels reported lost. Since we jumped from Dobrinya, I haven’t heard from comms whether they’ve determined what ships we have left.

While I’m thinking of Kora—

“Are we going to have trouble?” I ask March, low. “Some of our ships have nonhuman crew.” And the new immigration laws are harsh.

“I’ll leave word. If they want us to keep fighting out there, they can’t afford to limit the pool from which we can draw our soldiers.”

At length, Tarn sends an honor guard to escort us to the quarters he’s arranged for the Triumph officers. The crew just seems happy to get some R&R in a decent human settlement. Ocklind is the capital city on a large island, highly defensible. In addition, there are white-sand beaches here and crystal blue water.

They, at least, can expect a little joy while we’re here.

.CLASSIFIED-TRANSMISSION.

.CONTACT.

.FROM-EDUN_LEVITER.

.TO-SUNI_TARN.

. ENCRYPT-DESTR UCT-ENABLED.

The team arrived shortly after the departure of the Triumph. Everything you requested came to pass. Mining-colony residents were appropriately thankful, and they told the media of their great love and appreciation for the Conglomerate. Several suitable sound bites resulted and have been since bounced to every major satellite.

Your requested smear campaign proceeds apace. We have uncovered several little-known facts about Ramona Jax. Cruelty can be quite delicious when deployed against one’s enemies, don’t you agree? In any event, the people will be hard-pressed to overlook these atrocities, should they become public. Henceforth, she may smile for the vids all she likes, but those voice files are unmistakable. Even I am shocked at the sins she has committed against her fellow man, and I believe I may be acquitted of naïveté. She will either bend to my will, or I shall see her broken before I’m done. I should have some response from her shortly regarding how she intends to proceed.

If you review the market shares, you’ll see that the Conglomerate has gained more than twenty points while Syndicate approval ratings are falling. Polls indicate the general public sees the Syndicate not as security, but as brutal, heartless thugs. We’re winning the media war on New Terra, at least. The rest will follow. After all, you have employed me to make it so.

Though you had not directly asked me to do so, I have taken the liberty of destroying a Syndicate weapons cache on New Terra. If their people are poorly supplied, they will find it harder to fight. Hired hands lose morale faster than those who fight for higher ideals.

Lastly, I successfully made contact with the gray men and they have agreed to meet. I will need to travel to them in person, so they can scan my DNA to ascertain I am who I claim to be. I cannot avoid this circumstance, but I will take all precautions to prevent any whisper of my identity leaving that locale. The gray men can be trusted, absolutely, because they have no interest in anything but hunting, not for the kill but for the chase. They are lawful in the extreme and if we reach an agreement with them, you can rely on their keeping the contract, though sometimes in annoyingly literal fashion. They will do business only with me because I am a known factor, and they understand that I, too, am bound by my word. Once we have established tentative terms, I will forward the facts and figures, as relate to their hire, including salary and benefits. Do not fear. In these negotiations, I will not compromise you or the Conglomerate in any fashion.

.END-TRANSMISSION.

.ACTIVATE-WORM: Y/N?

.Y.

.TRANSMISSION-DESTROYED.