Devoted Deceptions

Devoted Deceptions A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3 Cherie Singer Hard Shell Word Factory This story copyright 200...

Author: Singer Cherie

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Devoted Deceptions A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3 Cherie Singer

Hard Shell Word Factory

This story copyright 2002 by Cherie Singer. All other rights are reserved. Thank you for honoring the copyright. Published by Hard Shell Word Factory. 8946 Loberg Rd. Amherst Junction, WI 54407 http://www.hardshell.com Electronic book created by Seattle Book Company. eBook ISBN: 0−7599−1257−2 Cover art © 2002 Mary Z. Wolf

Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatever to anyone bearing the same name or names. These characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.


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• Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16 • Chapter 17 Devoted Deceptions, A 4th Millennium Adventure, Book 3

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• Chapter 18 • Chapter 19 • Chapter 20 • Chapter 21 • Chapter 22 • Chapter 23


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Chapter 1 Thirty−first day of the seventh month, standard year 3164 Medical bay, aboard the Space Corps Fleet Starcruiser Falchion HIS WIFE'S hoarse cry of agony shattered the uneasy silence, twisted his nerve endings with harsh, splintery claws. Wulfe Kincade ground his teeth together. Her torturous pain flew across the mental link between them, staggering him. He fought to ignore the rare sensation of fear−−fear that he'd lose the only woman he'd ever loved, the only woman he ever could love. Simply because she refused to bend to his will and accept the physician's attempt to take the babe surgically. Wulfe felt utterly helpless to do anything but curse Garesh, the Overseer of the Underworld. He had never heard his mate, Cat, scream from pain. She'd raised her voice in pure rage, yes, but never from this kind of physical anguish, something over which he had absolutely no control. "Easy, love, easy," he urged. Frantic to help her any way he could, he forced his words to sound calm and reassuring. Chapter 1

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"You take...it easy," Cat managed as the most recent contraction waned and she gulped in air, "when you try...to push a...flamemelon... out your−−" "Catherine! Concentrate on your breathing," Doctor Albright warned sharply. "Here comes another one." "We can do this, Cat," Wulfe encouraged her. "We can?" She changed her breathing as the contraction built to a crescendo. "Can we? We?" Cat's pain slammed into him through their mental link. His knees started to buckle. Albright grabbed him by his left ear and yanked his head down to her level. "Don't you even think about fainting on her!" Wulfe allowed the doctor such liberty only because of her concern for Cat. He cleared his throat. "Bellons do not faint." Albright gave him a frosty glance of her blue eyes and then let go of him. "Make certain you don't. You won't like me if you do." The fingers of Wulfe's right hand, numbed from the grip Cat had on him, refused to function properly when he tried to flex them. Cat's suffering made her oblivious to how tightly she clenched his hand, how far her fingernails gouged into his flesh. Wulfe cupped Chapter 1

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the side of Cat's face. "I would willingly take all the pain, if it would spare you, love." Nora Albright, his ship's chief medical officer, ran her experienced hands over Cat's huge, swollen belly, the examination gentle and efficient. "Catherine, you must allow me to help." "No." A low groan escaped from between Cat's gritted teeth before she managed to continue speaking. "I am Bellon, mated to a... Bellon warrior. I will...birth...my own...child." Drenched with perspiration, Cat panted for air. Moira, the other physician in the room, placed her fingertips to Cat's left temple in an attempt to help Cat regain a level of mental control. "Focus, Commander, and use your Erosian talent. See the sunset in your mind. Allow the gentle evening breeze to cool your body, calm your mind." "I'm trying−−I'm trying−−I'm trying." Another crushing contraction hit her. Cat's usually throaty voice rose through several octaves, hitting a new high note, destroying the words. The sound of Cat's torment pierced Wulfe's heart with an anguish he'd never before experienced. He'd seen Cat lying broken, burnt and bloody from a madman's brutal attack, but she hadn't cried out like this. At least then he could rage against the Mallochon responsible for Cat's injury; he'd almost killed the assassin in retaliation. Now he had no Chapter 1

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one to blame but himself. He hated himself for being the cause, detested himself for being unable to take the suffering away. If he could do anything to alleviate her pain, the deed would have been long done. Never again, he vowed, would his ma'ten suffer this way. "Focus." Obviously dissatisfied with Cat's response, Moira tried to reinforce the earlier suggestion in her no−nonsense fashion. "You must focus, Commander Culver." "Focus this, Moira," Cat ordered, her voice rough with pain as she half−completed a rude Bellon gesture before Wulfe grabbed the motioning hand and stopped her. She sagged back into the supporting arc of his left arm. Her body trembled with exhaustion and the residue of body−rending torture. Wulfe took a fortifying breath of air tainted with the medicinal odors common to all ship sickbays. "Cat, you will allow Nora to do something for you." "No." She bit her bottom lip to keep back another gasp. "You're too small to do this on your own." "No, I'm not." "Then this boy of yours is simply too big." Wulfe wiped her face, pushing back long strands of wet hair. Love for this woman whom he'd lost for seven long years−−an eternity−−filled his heart and soul. Now that he had her back, he must remain strong for Chapter 1

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her. "I am your Lord. You have vowed your allegiance to me. You will do as I order." "No." She shook her head, Bellon stubbornness reigning. "I can do this. My oath...makes you...my Lord...not my master." "Breathe," Nora reminded her. "You bloody well breathe!" Cat stopped long enough to take in a shallow breath. "I will birth...your son for you, my husband." She ground her teeth together until the spasm passed, then glared at Wulfe. "Despite your male interference." Wulfe worked his hand free of Cat's grip and motioned Albright off to the side. His legs went rubbery when another contraction hit Cat. "Nora, she's in more pain than she's telling you. Give her something, block the agony for her." "I'd like to, but if Catherine can't feel the pain, she won't believe she needs help delivering the child and will never accept assistance." "Is this normal?" Gods, it couldn't be, not this much pain. "How do I know?" Albright pushed the heel of her hand against her forehead, muttered a curse. "I don't know anyone else with her ancestry, let alone someone who's given birth. Or tried to, at any rate." She cast an unfriendly eye at him. "It doesn't help matters that your wife is so small, or you're so blasted big and your son has inherited your size." Chapter 1

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"It's too late for me to do anything about that now." "Well do Catherine a favor and don't get her pregnant again," Albright whispered angrily. "You forget yourself, Doctor." Wulfe glanced to the bed cradling two of the most precious lives in the universe and looked away again. No one, not even his chief medical officer, could blame him more than he condemned himself for putting Cat through this cruel, unspeakable suffering. Albright shook her head. "Sorry. Look, it's not your fault. Because of her mixed ancestry, I can't even tell you for sure if the baby is full−term, early or late. Lot of help I am." "Will the child be safe?" Wulfe couldn't bring himself to give voice to the question haunting him: Were they cursed to lose another son before he drew his first breath of life? He saw compassion in the doctor's blue eyes. Neither could he tolerate the grief and dread Albright's soft emotion conjured up in him. Must he choose between mate and son? "He should be safe enough, if we can keep his mother well. Earther and Syllogian women both carry about thirty−nine weeks. Erosian females average forty−five. Your Bellon females are the impatient ones. They carry between thirty−two and thirty−four Chapter 1

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weeks. Cat has genes from all four genetic backgrounds, so her baseline could be any one of those, or an average." "She's at thirty−three weeks, right?" "Barely." "That's time enough for the babe, isn't it? I don't know if Cat could endure the loss of another son." Wulfe locked his legs as phantom pain, excruciatingly intense even through the filter of the link, ripped through his body. Sweet Creator, how did Cat withstand the real thing? "Based on his size and all the good test results, I'd say the baby will be fine, assuming I get to him in time. It's Catherine that worries me. For her sake, I thank the stars your son didn't decide to wait any longer. He'd literally tear her apart if he had. I'd be far happier if she'd allow me to intervene." Albright studiously avoided looking in Cat's direction, stared directly at him. "If you give me the word, Captain, I'll step in right now before this goes on any longer." "You realize your intervention will be an insult to Cat." "An insult? To her or to you? Take your pick, Captain. Bruise some ridiculous Bellon pride or risk her life further." Chapter 1

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"You will not allow her to die, regardless whose pride is damaged. Cat's life is what matters." Wulfe glanced back to the bed, wishing he could exchange his life for hers, take on her suffering. The fierce grimace of determination on Cat's face would forever haunt him. "How long can she continue like this?" "Not long. Catherine's been in hard labor−−the hardest I've ever seen−−for hours. I don't think she has any reserves left. Moreover, against my explicit advice, she's wasting precious energy trying to shield you from the worst of her pain." Wulfe knew what he felt, the grinding agony radiating in relentless waves from his mate. If Cat was trying to protect him by damping the full force of the link, what must she be enduring firsthand? "Give her what time you can, then take over, Nora, whether or not she agrees. I'll hold her down myself if you have to put her under." "You'll need to hold her, unless she passes out first." Wulfe returned to Cat's side, offered his hand to her again. She accepted, licking the blood from the edge of her lip where her teeth had ravaged the skin during his absence. Her grip felt decidedly weaker now, and her fingertips had grown cold. "You don't have to go through this, Cat. Nora can help you." "Forget it." Chapter 1

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"There is no shame, no dishonor, in accepting assistance. Do not argue with me, wife. I will not allow it." "Even you can't−−uh−−narg−−control me this time." Desperate to protect her, he used the only thing he knew would snare her full attention. "Think of the babe's safety." "That's not fair," Cat gasped, trying to get through another contraction. She arched up from the birthing bed, the new spasm riding viciously on the wave of the previous one. "Fair or not, consider the truth of my words." The insignia on Wulfe's collar chirped. "Not now," he responded, furious with whomever dared to intrude. His first officer's voice came back to him. 'This is important, Captain.' "What I'm doing isn't?" Dark, ruthless shadows of pain gripped the lower half of Wulfe's body, as though muscle and tendon fought, trying to twist him in two different directions. 'I know it is, Sir,' Wheeler continued, 'but this is an emergency. I'm in the doctor's office and will wait for you.' Albright spoke up. "Go ahead, Captain. I doubt anything's going to happen here in the next few minutes." "I won't leave her." Chapter 1

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"Go, my husband. Attend to what must be done." Cat released the hold she had on his hand and took a deep breath. "Your son and I will be here when you return." Wulfe traced the line of her jaw, his fingers lingering on her lower lip, refusing to allow any trace of fear to show in his expression. "Are you certain?" Cat gave him a weak smile, the spark exhausted from her eyes. "You won't be able to concentrate until you've talked to Erich. Besides, the average Bellon warrior doesn't attend the birthing of his sons." Wulfe forced a smile to spread across his face as he gazed down at the valiant little warrior he'd taken as mate. "I thought you said I wasn't an average Bellon male. Have you been untruthful with me, my Lady?" His provocation worked, however briefly. Cat's sense of humor peeked through her weariness, an all−too−brief flash of better times. "Oh, you're not average in any way, my love. You are exceptional." "When I return, you will argue no further on this matter. The doctors will assist you." "You think. Go. Now." Wulfe leaned over to whisper in Cat's ear, "Remember, my wife, my lifemate, ma'ten, I cherish you above all others." Chapter 1

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"As I do you, my husband," she whispered in her sultry voice. Her amber eyes widened as another powerful contraction began. The expression on her face changed from tender affection to open hostility. Cat reached blindly for something to grip and found Moira's forearm. "Leave me, Wulfe! Be gone!" Wulfe left the delivery room, Albright's professional voice and his wife's labored breathing following him until the doors slid shut, cutting off the sounds. The silence should have brought some measure of relief, but not being with his mate only increased his worry. Wheeler waited for Wulfe on the other side, apparently not content to stay in Nora's office. Wulfe took out his frustration on his first officer. "This better be a Class One Emergency, Mister." "It is." Wheeler's face had turned chalky. "Let's hear it, Erich." Wulfe braced himself for the next onslaught of pain he felt building. Cat valiantly tried to keep her suffering from him, but their mental link made the task all but impossible for her at the moment. The echo of the contraction rolled through Wulfe, robbing him of control, making it impossible for him to draw a complete breath. "We just received word from Space Corps Command. The Mallochons have made a preemptive strike against the League. They hit Station Garrett. Hard. She was full of Chapter 1

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civilians." The Mallochons had already murdered untold thousands and seemed determined to kill more. Cold trepidation marched up Wulfe's spine. More than once, Mallochons had come within a heartbeat of costing Cat her life. "How much do we know?" "Reports are sketchy at the moment, but what little information we've received doesn't sound encouraging." "We're going to have full−blown war on our hands before we know it. If the League of Unified Worlds doesn't give Space Corps the freedom to respond, now, millions will die!" "Looks that way, Captain, unless the Mallochons can be stopped right where they are." "We're too far away to be of any use to Station Garrett. Do we have any information as to who's in that sector of space?" "The Egyptian and the Silver Song are closest." "Good ships. Good captains." An echo of Cat's agony sliced through Wulfe, making him break out in a sweat. "Anything else?" "We intercepted a transmission. Two other vessels will be coming out of hyperspace over Garrett any time now. The Bellon Yataghan, your brother Hawke's ship, and Cass Burnelle's Moon Maiden." Chapter 1

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Wulfe nodded. Hardly two weeks ago, Hawke and Cass, his own mate's sister, had taken their bonding oaths. "Hawke's a good man to have in a tight situation and Cass makes a living doing search and rescue operations. I don't know how many evacuees their ships can take, but the station will need all the help they can find." Wheeler glanced at the door to Cat's room. "How's Catherine? Wulfe met his first officer's gaze and then looked away, unwilling to let the Earther see the fear coiling through him. "Not good, Erich." "You plan to tell her about the Mallochon strike?" "Cat doesn't need to know. She can't do anything for them right now. I have to get back to her." "I'll keep you informed of anything critical, Captain." "Do that." The most agonizing wall of pain yet hit Wulfe with heart−stopping force. Steeling himself, he spun around, took giant steps back to Cat and her ordeal. Wulfe reentered the private room just in time to hear the lusty squalling of his son. Just in time to see the life−sustaining blood gush from his beloved mate's body.

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Chapter 2 Fifteenth day of the eighth month, standard year 3164 Aboard the Starcruiser Falchion WULFE TUCKED an extra, miniature blanket around his infant son. He allowed the cradle to resume its gentle rocking motion and watched the babe sleep, marveling at so much perfection in so tiny a bundle. Love for his son swelled through him with breath−stealing intensity, despite the agony the babe had innocently inflicted upon Cat as she struggled to birth him. A new ache of loss lodged beneath his heart. He knew he must send the babe and his older daughter away to keep them safe from Mallochon attack, but already felt the emptiness of their absence. Each day, the Mallochon Imperium threatened someone's way of life. Even one person endangered by them was one too many. "You have harmed my family, my people, too often. We will stop you," he vowed in a whisper, "before you cause others to suffer the way we have." Chapter 2

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Wulfe padded back to his own bed, pulled the covers up over himself and shivered. Not so much because he felt cold, but because he hated the way the big bed seemed to taunt him when he lay mateless in the sleeper. Hundreds of people aboard the Falchion, and one unshared bed made him feel alone, empty. The communit next to the bed emitted a soft beep. "Kincade," Wulfe responded quietly, not wanting to wake the babe. "Keep your voice down." 'Wheeler here. We've had a message from Admiral Flemming.' "New orders, Commander?" 'Aye. We're to report to Station Uhlein in eleven hours.' "Set course. Maximum speed should put us there in time." 'Aye, with about forty minutes to spare. Course correction laid in. We're on our way. See you in the morning, Cap.' Wulfe closed the channel. He pressed his forearm across his eyes, blocking out the minimal lighting in the room. The layover at Uhlein would be the first step in transforming the Falchion from a top−of−the−line starcruiser to a battle cruiser. The pending change instilled a sense of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Chapter 2

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He tried to ignore the presentiment; Bellons had been bred for war, and he should be reveling, glorying in the preparations. But those preliminaries meant sending his children back to the homeworld. A seductive scent, spicy and mysterious, tantalized him away from thoughts of war. His nostrils flared in appreciation. The rest of his body responded with the ancient instincts, heating and growing hard. He grinned, not moving his forearm, simply glorying in the scent. "I thought you'd never finish your shower." "Miss me?" Cat sat on the bed, ran her hand under the covers and up his bare leg. "What did you do while you waited?" Her husky voice and teasing touch brought all his nerve endings to exquisite attention. "I spent some time with Morgan." "Good. I don't want her to have any reason to resent her new brother. Morgan still mourns her natural mother's death and needs reassurance. We can't allow her to think she's losing her father now, or me as her Oath Mother. She must know we both love her as much now as before Garrett's birth." Cat let out a soft sigh. The sigh bothered him. "Nothing is amiss with her Oath Mother? You took longer in the shower than I thought you would." Concern moved him to sit up. "Are you unwell?" Chapter 2

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"Rest easy. I did an exercise session this morning and as a result had a couple of sore spots I let the hot water pound." "That's all?" "That's all. I think I'll have a cup of tea. Want one?" "Aye. I won't sleep until you've come to bed, anyway." He'd spent seven years of restless, sleepless nights without her, so he spoke from unpalatable experience. Wulfe opted to pull on a pair of pliable Bellon leather breeches instead of his uniform trousers while Cat found a robe to wrap around herself. He followed her into the common room of their suite, seating himself at the desk area both used when they had work but still wanted to be in the midst of family. If he needed quiet, his office adjoined the living area and could be accessed from the corridor by the crew. His daughter, Morgan, and the children's nurse, Fallon, slept in other sleeping chambers off the communal area of the suite. Cat's private office, situated two decks down in the sciences area, saw her more often again these days as she recovered from childbirth. Cat brought a copper pot of tea back from the dispenser. She passed him a filled mug and settled her slight weight in his lap, then shifted position. The movement snugged Chapter 2

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intriguing parts of her anatomy against his, earned her his full attention. Her mesmerizing gaze met his, stealing his heart all over again as she seemed to look down into his soul. He set the mug of hot tea aside so he could caress the smoothness of her slender neck. Wulfe nuzzled her collarbone when her silk robe slipped down one shoulder. He kissed Cat's full lips. Greed and hunger and the need to be gentle with her warred feverishly inside him. Her lush taste and scent ignited ancient Bellon instincts, fanned the flame of heated desire. Cat's wealth of mahogany−red hair cascaded around him. The curls brushed his bare torso, each soft strand a sweet torment as she pressed her body to his. Her firm full breast scorched his palm through the silken robe. Amber eyes gone smoky with passion, Cat lifted her head a bit, turned as though listening. The glow of lustful, eager desire on her face muted, though only a bit. "The babe's awake." "Your mental link with him grows stronger every day." "Little by little. I believe your son is hungry again." "The boy has the appetite of a true warrior." "He is your son, after all." Cat moved to slip from his lap, a look of reluctance on her Chapter 2

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face. "He eats like you." Wulfe stood, taking her with him in his arms, savoring the extra minute of contact. Blessings upon the Creator for the intervention. Any more temptation from Cat and he'd not be able to control the need for his mate, despite the fact only two weeks had passed since her exhausting ordeal of birthing their son. They could never regain the seven years of separation he had enforced upon them−−through his own blind arrogance, he could now admit−−but he intended to insure they were together every possible moment now and in the future. He carried her back to the bedroom, settled her on the sleeper. "I'll bring him." Wulfe picked up the babe and delivered him to her, memorizing every detail of the miniature warrior. They would be apart all too soon. The eyes looking up at Wulfe echoed Cat's, a depthless amber he would always treasure. He placed the tiny bundle in his mate's slender arms, where the babe immediately seemed bigger and sturdier. Already weighing nearly eight kilograms, he'd outgrow Cat's embrace soon at this rate. Garrett, named for the station blown to oblivion the night of his birth, latched onto his mother's breast with zeal and began to nurse with greedy little sounds of pleasure. Chapter 2

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Cat favored son and father with a serene smile. "Nora is still amazed by how quiet Garrett is, especially when he's hungry. She expected him to scream at the top of his warrior lungs every chance he got." Cat arched her left eyebrow at Wulfe, eyes lit with mischief. "For some reason, Nora seems to think Bellon males are overly demanding. I can't imagine why she'd believe such nonsense. Can you?" "No. The good doctor is quite obviously misinformed on the subject." Wulfe shed his breeches and settled next to Cat, lying on his right side, head propped in his hand to watch. She half−reclined against the jumble of pillows, the robe gone, her satiny bronzed skin bared to the waist with only a corner of the sheet draped over a portion of her sleek thighs. As always, he appreciated the fact his mate preferred to rest and sleep unfettered by anything other than his arms or legs. "I explained to Albright about the survival instinct inbred into Bellon children; how over a millennium of time our babes have learned to cry out only when conditions are safe." Wulfe shook his head. "I don't think she believed me." "Maybe not at first, but she's convinced now." "Cat?" "What, love?" "I would have mourned the loss of this son for all time if he had died." Roughened by Chapter 2

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the battle between his heart and Bellon philosophy, the words sounded hoarse to his own ears. The ancient tenet insisted the child's life to be more precious than the mother's. Wulfe stroked Garrett's downy cheek with his little finger, deeply grateful for the Creator's blessings. "I wouldn't have survived my grief if I had lost you, my wife." "Ah, love." Her emotion−filled amber gaze met his. With the lightest of touches, Cat placed the fingertips of her right hand against Wulfe's left temple. "Together, through all time, joined as one, stronger than we ever were alone. On my oath, we shall never be parted, my Lord. Nothing will ever separate us again." Twenty minutes later when Garrett had filled his belly and fallen asleep, Cat got up to place the babe in his cradle. She came back, slipped into their bed and draped her bare leg over Wulfe's groin, rested her head on his shoulder. The intimate contact only made Wulfe grow harder. He wrapped his arms around Cat, snugging her up against him as closely as he could. He caressed the soft skin of her shoulder, then decided he must distract himself. "You worked too hard today. I thought Albright ordered only half shifts for a while." "I birthed Garrett over two weeks ago. I'm fine." "I see. Does that mean I shouldn't bother massaging your poor, tired body with any more Chapter 2

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Erosian healing oil? Too bad, because I managed to find another vial." "Wait a minute. I didn't say that." "Didn't think so." Wulfe changed position slightly so he could see her face. "I keep telling myself you are recovered from your ordeal, but sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wake up and don't believe your recuperation is complete." "After you've had the dream about me being gone." "Not gone, dead, and you were, almost permanently." "The key word is almost. Nothing as simple as childbirth will take me from your side. I was gone less than a minute. Never doubt Nora's ability, my husband." Cat twirled her fingers through his chest hair, slyly working her hand downward. As if he wouldn't notice! Her mere touch filled him with the heat of arousal. Wulfe covered her hand with his, completely engulfing the delicate fingers. He brought her hand to his mouth, pressed his lips, then the tip of his tongue to the palm, tasted her familiar sweetness. "Caution, my Lady, you are starting something I cannot allow you to finish." "That's another thing. I should have final say, not Nora." "Cat, we've been through this−−" "I want you," Cat whispered fiercely, moving her body against his, hot bare skin to hot Chapter 2

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bare skin. Wulfe groaned, in genuine pain now. "No more than I want you. I will desire you until the day I draw my last breath." Her silken skin seemed to flame hotter against his. Heat increased the sensual, exotic scent belonging only to Cat, a mixture of smoky Bellon sandalwood and Earther cinnamon. The thrill of pride went through him; only he could identify her body's natural perfume in this exact way. The scent often took him to the verge of forgetting his duties and risking his honor, right to the brink of insanity. He would have it no other way. "You will yet drive me mad with your wanton behavior." "Then I must protect you from madness at all costs, my Lord." Cat freed her hand, glided her palm down over his belly, then stroked him even lower, her bold, knowing touch making him suck in a shuddering breath of aching anticipation. He tried to still her suggestive, pleasure−inducing movements. "Not until Albright gives the okay. I won't take the risk of harming you. I fear I would, the way I hunger for you." Cat drew one warm finger up the length of his manhood. "It wasn't my intention to make the situation, uh, harder for you." "You shameless wench, you nargging well did." Wulfe rolled over, trapped her delicious Chapter 2

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body beneath him. "And to think there was a time, long ago, when I foolishly believed you'd be the one to break under the onslaught of my mating lust." Cat's throaty laughter filled his heart. "Oh, you believed me to be that fragile? Do you mind so terribly being wrong?" "No." His own chuckle joined with hers. "Because you'll be the one who must explain to Space Corps Command why the captain of the fleet's flagship is a drooling idiot with brains of mush and a rod of biranium in his trousers. Sleep now, because once the doctor gives you that medical release, I guarantee you won't sleep for a long time." "I keep telling you−−" "No." Wulfe rolled to his side, bringing her with him. "If it had been any other type of injury, I wouldn't question your judgment or your ability to use your Erosian healing rhapsody. We need to be certain about this, especially if we ever intend to give Garrett a younger sibling." "Promise you'll keep me from sleeping for at least a week." "Oh, no, you're not getting off that easily." Wulfe brushed his lips across her forehead. "At least two weeks, no excuses." "As my Lord wishes. But only because I wish it so, too." Chapter 2

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"Sleep, now," Wulfe admonished, wanting to smile. "First, a question." "What?" "Did I hear the communit a while ago?" Wulfe groaned inwardly. He'd hoped to keep the news from her until she'd had at least a few hours sleep. He should have known better. "Aye, you did. Confirming our orders to Uhlein." "Damn." Cat sat up. "The Falchion's to be refitted?" "Aye. We should be there in under ten hours. As long as we're awake and talking about plans for the ship−−" "No." The single word held a serious note of warning. "We can't ignore the situation with the children." "I said no!" Cat scooted to the end of the bed, her voice carrying an edge that clearly told him the argument hadn't even begun. She slid to the deck and began a furious pacing at the foot of the bed. "Garrett and Morgan are staying here." "I will not argue this matter any further with you." "Good," she hissed back. "About bloody time you realized you are going to lose this Chapter 2

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argument anyway." "You should have used cold water in that shower to douse that hot temper of yours." Wulfe resisted the self−protective urge to duck, but watched her reaction with a sharp eye. Fortunately, she wasn't within reach of anything lethal to throw. Instead, she crossed her arms over her bare chest and glared at him before responding. "Cold water will not silence me, you barbarian. Always thinking you're right. Bear the brunt of my anger with honor−−you're the cause." "I am not the cause." Wulfe felt like pounding his fists against the nearest wall partition. From somewhere inside, he managed to find a level of patience he hadn't believed he possessed. "The children must be kept safe from the Mallochons." "No one can keep Garrett as safe as I can. Morgan, either." Wulfe watched her, admiring each graceful movement as she stalked back and forth. When Cat turned just right, he caught a glimpse of the dove−shaped birthmark soaring across her taut rib cage. The traditional, symbolic bonding chains wrapped around her waist and thighs gleamed in the dim light. Every time she spun around, her calf−length red hair swirled and danced around her naked body, making her appear wild and wanton. The sight threatened to distract him from Chapter 2

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his objective. Worse, she knew his reaction and the reason all too well. They'd spent every possible moment since their reconciliation making up for the years lost, and he couldn't forget their greedy passion for one another. "My son is barely fifteen days old! I will not send him away!" Wulfe couldn't help but smile to himself. Seemed that only minutes ago, the time reference had been 'over two weeks', but now, to suit her purpose, 'barely fifteen days'. "Cat, we can't guarantee our son's safety here aboard the ship once we're engaged in battle, and you know battle with the Mallochon Imperium is inevitable. The only place he and Morgan will be protected is on Bellona. I realize you will miss them deeply. I will, too, more than I thought possible." Perhaps he could keep her safe along with the children. "Do you wish to stay on the homeworld with the children?" Cat stopped in midstride and stared at him. Color bleached from her face. "Leave you? Is that what you want?" Some giant's fist slammed into his chest with those words. They'd been reconciled only months, and the thought of losing Cat yet again made him go hollow inside. "If that's what you think, why don't you reach into my mind and touch my thoughts?" Chapter 2

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Cat simply glared at him in response, outrage narrowing her eyes and flushing her cheeks with dusky color again. Wulfe swept his hands through the air. "I retract my question. I know you are too honorable to invade another's mind like that." Cat inclined her head in bare acceptance of his words. "Do you want me to leave, Wulfe?" "I'd prefer you didn't, but I will not impose my will upon you. This time. I would even be willing to listen to an alternative to Bellona, if you have one." "Oh, that's mighty big of you. You won't impose your will−−this time. Bah! You can be such a lurdin!" Cat snatched her robe, pulled the fabric around her, jerked the sash tight at her waist. "You do what you bloody well please. You will anyway. I have work to do." Wulfe vented his frustration on the pillows. He punched them into shape until synthfill exploded from one of the cushions and rained down upon him and the bed. That woman would be the death of him yet! Cat's racial heritage seemed designed solely to bedevil him. She'd inherited a maddening Syllogian logic and Earther perverseness from her father, Ambassador Aidan Culver. Wulfe settled against the few pillows left intact. He silently acknowledged the strength and Chapter 2

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sensuality she'd garnered from her mother, Dove Burnelle, who carried Bellon and Erosian blood. He twisted to his right side, mumbled an oath of frustration into a cushion. Sleep would obviously be a rare commodity tonight. If he insisted Cat stay out of harm's way with the children on Bellona, he may as well wager his last credit she'd nargging lead the first wave of attack against the Mallochons. She'd do it simply to remind him she claimed Bellon blood. If Space Corps didn't catch up with her first and court−martial her for desertion. Cat almost lost her life during the Mallochon Uprising eight years earlier, and he didn't ever want to see that possibility repeated. Then only months ago, a Mallochon agent had come so close to murdering Cat the thought still sent adrenalin rushing through him. As if that hadn't been enough, next they'd discovered Morgan's birth mother, Danelle, had been murdered by a vengeful Mallochon who'd mistaken Danelle for Cat. Wulfe flipped to the other side, his thoughts racing, heart thundering. Cat's position as a Free Agent in the League's elite Covert Ops had always been an area of contention between them, but she'd compounded the problem recently. Wulfe's old mentor, Admiral Roy Flemming, had been on the verge of retiring−−until Cat recruited him to the secret organization of the Covert Corps. Two covert operatives to cope with made his life twice as Chapter 2

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complicated. He glowered at the closed door. If Cat expected him to relent on this matter, she'd have a long wait. He found himself giving in to her sweet persuasion more times than not lately, but not on this. Absolutely not. The children must go. Now all he had to do was to come up with a feasible plan to keep Cat safe and immune to Space Corps prosecution. CAT SHUT OFF the computer and rubbed her burning eyes. She could have accomplished twice the work in half the time under normal circumstances. The only consolation came in knowing Wulfe hadn't rested any more than she had over the last few hours. She'd sensed his emotions as they'd changed during the long night. Bitter reality remained unchanged, though. They must send the children to a safe haven. She'd taken the Mother Oath with Danelle, pledging to care for Morgan as her own flesh and blood. With or without the Oath, she couldn't endanger the girl any more than she could willingly put Garrett in harm's way. They were targets here aboard the Falchion, pure and simple. Garesh, how she hated the idea of admitting to Wulfe that she'd been wrong. Time to face the sonata. If she'd met Wulfe head−on all those years ago, instead of trying to salvage Chapter 2

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his Bellon honor by keeping the secret of the first babe's fatal deformity, they never would have had to endure seven years of separation, the rite of Abandonment. Cat scowled with self−disgust. No; she'd not make that mistake any time again soon. A glance at the chronometer verified the feeling that day watch would begin soon. Cat felt a subliminal stirring of discomfort; Garrett awakening and wanting to be fed again. His hunger reinforced the increasing fullness in her breasts. Now she had no choice but to return to the bedroom and face her husband. Bracing herself for the humbling experience, she rose from her chair and entered the sleeping chamber. Wulfe lay on his side in the bed, a freshly diapered Garrett next to him. He met her gaze, his dark brown eyes filled with nothing but warmth and welcome, same as the emotions she felt coming from him, each seasoned with caution. Wulfe's wavy, sable−colored hair spilled around the incredible width of his shoulders. The gold bonding chain glinted around his neck. His beard and moustache shadowed the planes of his face. A war god, she thought irreverently; her very own war god. Cat swallowed once. If he'd harbored even an iota of anger, this would be easier, but she felt no lingering resentment radiating from him. "You were correct, my husband. As much as I might begrudge the fact, Bellona is safer than the Falchion. While your family can Chapter 2

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keep the children from harm, you rely upon me to be at your side during this conflict." "Aye, I do." She wished he wouldn't watch her quite so closely. "Space Corps and the League of Unified Worlds are depending on us." "Aye, they are, as I'm sure the Covert Corps is counting on your assistance, rather than you spending time in a Space Corps brig." Wulfe tucked Garrett's blanket around the babe's body. The gesture of tenderness became her undoing. "No one ever told me," Cat's voice caught, making her take a shaky breath, "that sending my child away would hurt so much." Wulfe whipped his covers back, met her at the foot of the bed. He pulled her onto his lap, held her against him, soothed her with touch and soft deep sounds of comfort. "I know, cherished one, I know. I like the idea no more than you do, but better to be separated a few weeks or months than to lose him forever." "Oh, gods, yes." Cat wrapped her arms around Wulfe's neck. His musky man−scent reassured her. "Garesh take the Mallochons to the deepest levels of the Underworld for this." Wulfe pressed his lips to the side of her neck. "He will, if I have anything to say in the Chapter 2

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matter. We'll do what we must to keep the children safe." Cat squeezed him, seeking comfort. Being officers in Space Corps limited their options. Under normal, peaceful conditions, the Corps would have granted them both parental leave after Garrett's birth, if they requested the time. The increasingly hostile advances by the Mallochons effectively eliminated any hope of that possibility. Damn the Mallochons! For years, Covert Ops had been her salvation, one of the few reasons to go on living. Now she resented the interference in her life. If she took matters into her own hands by staying with the children on Bellona and the Corps court−martialed her for desertion, she'd be in the brig and unable to be with Garrett and Morgan anyway. Separated either way. Resigned to what they must surely do, Cat watched Garrett. Overwhelmed by love, she swallowed back the thickness in her throat. No matter how much it hurt her, the children's safety came first. "I'll nurse the babe while we have breakfast with Morgan." She glanced away, drew on some inner maternal strength to continue. "Then we can get on with our plans for their departure. By the time arrangements are finalized, Nora will have perfected the formula for Garrett." Forty−five minutes later, Fallon took charge of the children and left Cat alone with Wulfe. Something to which she'd better become accustomed. Cat glanced at Wulfe, then Chapter 2

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the comm screen on the desk in their quarters. Worry pulled continually at her stomach, making her doubly glad she'd had nothing more than tea and fruit for breakfast. Incoming transmissions this morning contained little good news. Malloch, homeworld of the Mallochon Imperium, refused all of the League's attempts to talk peace. Furthermore, the Mallochons denied any wrongdoing on their part. "The way things are shaping up, my husband, I fear we have about a one in one−thousand chance of not being drawn directly into war." She watched Wulfe tie his long hair back into a leather thong, admired the way his titan−like body moved under the tailored, muscle−hugging gray and black Corps uniform. He slanted her a wry look. "Unfortunately, that one chance would be the result of us being blown to Creation and back before we get an opportunity to fire a shot in our own defense." Dread skittered its way up Cat's spine with sharp little claws, almost strong enough to be called premonition if she believed in such a thing. "Not exactly a reassuring thought, is it?" "I think we both know how the League members will vote on the sanctions against Malloch. A formal declaration." Cat shifted under Wulfe's scrutiny. He watched her as though waiting for a reaction or Chapter 2

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some kind of telltale sign she couldn't quite define. Ever since her little dance with death in the delivery room, something in her husband had changed. A hard, savage edge he'd possessed all his life, an edge that some people might mistakenly call brutal, had yielded. Cat still hadn't decided if she favored the transformation, even though she'd campaigned for that exact same thing a few months back. Caution what you dream for, she admonished herself, or Sister Fate may make the dreams a reality, for good or ill. "We have certain steps we need to take, Cat." She'd known this moment would come, but forewarning didn't make the reality sit any easier. "Aye. We have−−what?−−an even dozen children aboard. We need to get them all to safety." "How do you want to go about the relocations?" "Good question. Station Uhlein doesn't have the facilities to accommodate all of them on a permanent basis." "Not comfortably, anyway," Wulfe agreed. "And now that Space Corps is beginning to shuffle personnel around in grudging anticipation of war, the situation will only grow worse." Chapter 2

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Cat did a series of quick calculations in her head. "What's your time estimate to lay in supplies, do the refit to upgrade our weapon systems, run diagnostics on the Falchion's comm systems and complete crew transfers once we reach Uhlein?" Wulfe stroked the goatee−like beard covering his strong, determined chin−−a habit he'd acquired over the months of watching her carry his son−−while he did his own figuring. "Fifteen hours, maybe eighteen, depending on how long before the other cruisers, freighters and carriers put into the station." Cat nodded. His assessment matched hers well enough. "That would give me just about enough time to shuttle all the little ones to the J'Net Center. From that neutral point, the children could be safely moved to join family members or caretakers." "Maybe, but if you had any type of delay, you wouldn't make it back in time for the Falchion's departure from Uhlein." "Then I'd hitch a ride and catch up with you out there." "I'm not crazy about the idea." Wulfe reached over, placed a forefinger against her lips, effectively stopping her argument before she could speak. "But your suggestion makes sense, ma'ten. What specific arrangements are you thinking of for Morgan and Garrett?" "Have my sister pick them up at the J'Net Center and take them back to Bellona for us." Chapter 2

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"Cass? The perpetual Bellon nay−sayer?" "Any objections?" Cat arched an eyebrow at him, waiting. "Several dozen, right off the top of my head. She'd do it?" "Yes, my Lord. Garrett is my Firstborn, the new generation of the Burnelle House. She'll take him home, if only to insure continuation of our bloodline on Bellona. If anything should happen to her and to me during this confrontation with Malloch, Garrett will inherit the Burnelle holdings and Tribunal seat." "Perhaps, but will she protect our daughter so zealously?" "Cass will see to Morgan and protect the Kincade interests the girl is to inherit. Now that Cass has wed into the Kincade clan, she'll do right by your ancestral House. She's finally learning to accept her Bellon heritage, thanks to Hawke." "Do you intend to send Fallon with the children?" Cat left the desk, walked over to her husband. She smoothed the fabric across his chest. "Of course. Without us, they'll need her more than ever." "Erich Wheeler might feel differently. He seems to have become quite attached to Fallon since she arrived with Morgan." "Wheeler is always looking for a conquest, and she's exactly his type: pretty, Chapter 2

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impressionable, and very malleable. I must admit, Fallon seems quite taken by his well−oiled charm. Bah!" Cat spun around and paced the width of the living area. "She's young and will outgrow his kind one day soon. I hope." "Don't hold back, ma'ten; tell me what you really think of my first officer." "We don't have the time, but even you must admit his attitude has altered over recent months. He's become withdrawn one moment and gregarious the next." "True. He's not as predictable as he once was." "Forget Wheeler for now. You agree with the plan for the children, then?" Wulfe gave a reluctant−looking nod of agreement. "So that means you have less than two hours to make arrangements with the other parents and the intended caretakers before we reach Uhlein. Enlist assistance from Lieutenant Lyon if you need him. I'm sure our chief of security would be more than pleased to help you." "Mykal Lyon has been a good friend to me and to you, my Lord. He has proven his loyalty many times over." "Aye, he has, which is why I trust him with you−−and the children. I want you to use the shuttle Righteous to transport the little ones. The other three shuttles will be moving supplies and personnel while we run diagnostics on our translocator and weapon systems." Chapter 2

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Wulfe caught her arm, pulled her to an abrupt stop. "Cat, I expect the Righteous to be the first shuttle out of the bay. I want you gone before anyone on the outside knows you're leaving. Understood?" CAT STOOD IN the control room of the main shuttle bay, leaning one hip against Frank Ellery's control console, hoping that outwardly she presented an unconcerned facade. She and the chief watched the flurry of activity in the bay. Cat did her best to ignore the fact she had only hours left to spend with her children. Ten children and their assorted parents were in the process of saying goodbye. One by one, the parents secured the little passengers in the Righteous. Fallon had already boarded with Morgan and Garrett. A team of service personnel stowed the last of the cargo destined for J'Net. The sight made Cat take a deep breath. Three or four times to nurse Garrett, just a handful of chances to giggle with Morgan over one of the girl's silly jokes. A tech slammed the shuttle's cargo hatch. "That's my cue to get moving. See you when I get back, Chief." Cat crossed the bay, entered the craft. She sank into the shuttle's pilot seat and tried to clear all but the launch from her mind. The last hour and a half of frenzied activity had taken its toll on everyone. "Beginning preflight check, Chief." Chapter 2

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'Aye,' Ellery responded. "Commander?" "What is it, Fallon?" Cat swivelled her seat to see her children's nurse making her way forward. "The little ones okay?" "For the most part. Morgan forgot her doll." "Oh, space debris." She'd purposefully reinforced her mental shields to keep everyone else's emotions at bay so she could concentrate more easily on her tasks. Now she felt guilty, because in doing so, she'd missed Morgan's distress. "She needs it. Going to live with people she's never met before, even if they are her grandparents, is going to be tough enough. You sit tight with the twelve little monsters and I'll go find the doll." Cat double−timed her way across the bay. "Chief, I have to go back to my quarters for a minute." "The delay will throw off the captain's schedule." "Not if you release the crew shuttle, then the supply shuttles. I'll take the Righteous out last." "Commander, the captain specifically said−−" "He won't know the difference. Start moving those shuttles out." Cat ran from the bay Chapter 2

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before Ellery could open his mouth to protest. She reached the nearest lift in record time. Halfway to the deck containing their quarters, a yellow alert sounded throughout the ship. Now what? She spilled from the lift, ran down the corridor and burst through the door of their suite. "Computer, activate visual, main screen, all major exterior views." The large wall screen lit up and split into nine separate views of surrounding space. Cat saw the personnel shuttle sail into open space, orient herself and turn toward Uhlein. Seconds later, red alert klaxons sounded. One view depicted the awful sight of a Mallochon warship deshrouding. Cat watched the screen in absolute frozen horror as the Mallochon plasma cannons discharged directly at the Falchion's launched shuttle. The same shuttle she'd ordered to go first. All those people! her mind shrilled in frenzied protest. Death screams from the people aboard the shuttle exploded into her mind as the craft disintegrated. The psychic assault of their death cries drove her to her knees, ripped at her sanity. The Falchion took a savage Mallochon hit. The deck bucked crazily beneath her. She struggled to her feet in panic. Unable to feel the strong, familiar mental connection to her husband, the more tenuous one with her son, Cat panicked. Gone! Ripped away from her! Cat whirled and bolted from the rooms. She raced to reach the children, driven to feel Chapter 2

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them in her arms, to hold them close. Wulfe! Where was Wulfe? What had happened to the children? Dear, sweet Creator! What had happened to all of them? She commandeered a lift reserved for senior officers during an emergency. Part way down to the shuttle bay levels, the entire ship shuddered around her. The Falchion reeled under the hellish impact of another barrage of vicious enemy fire. The lift hesitated, rocked in violent movements, plunged downward, slammed her to the deck with brutal force.

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Chapter 3 WULFE HURRIED through the corridors of the Falchion, determined to get to the main shuttle bay before Cat launched her craft. They'd said their goodbyes, but he wanted to give her one last kiss and hug as a sendoff. The downward motion of the lift moved right along, but now that the nargging car had to go horizontally, the progress seemed to have slowed by half. He tapped his foot impatiently until he caught the uncomfortable expression on the face of the science intern riding with him. He shrugged; Cat always claimed he scared the newbies spitless. The car came to a halt and the door panels finally opened. Wulfe put on a burst of speed to run the last few meters of the corridor and through the main entrance of the bay. His heart sank with disappointment. The first shuttle had just cleared the bay launch doors. He could see through the invisible forcefield to the stars and the departing shuttle beyond. A yellow alert signal sounded, effectively diverting his attention. "Kincade to Wheeler. What's with the yellow alert?" 'Seleen's picked up an energy reading−−oh, hell, go to red alert! Captain, Mallochon vessel deshrouding off our−−' Chapter 3

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"Bring that shuttle back!" Wulfe shouted across the bay to Ellery to get the chief's attention. "Get her back here! Now!" The red alert klaxons drowned out his frantic order. Wulfe watched in helpless horror as a Mallochon warship fired her forced plasma cannon point−blank on the launched shuttle. The attack wrenched an anguished bellow from him. "Nooo!" The Righteous exploded into a million tiny flickers of brilliant white light. "By the gods, no!" The warship pivoted against the stars and fired at the Falchion. Another blinding burst of light flared right on top of him. Wulfe cursed and threw his arm across his face. The bay erupted, surrounded him with flames, deafening noise and crashing bulkheads. The forcefield collapsed. The drop in pressure sucked out the air, extinguished the fire. The maelstrom of outrushing atmosphere dragged Wulfe toward cold, dark space and the scattered atoms of his family. "I'm coming, cherished ones. You will not die alone. Wait for me..." CAT STAGGERED back to her feet in the sudden darkness, rubbing a bruised knee. Reality gripped her. The children! Wulfe! Gel oozed from overhead electrical channels and Chapter 3

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leaked onto her face. She ducked away, hissed an oath of disgust. The hard landing of the car must have damaged the control panels and circuitry. She wiped the cold slime away. The lift car shifted again, jolted under the impact of what felt like another strike by the enemy. Garesh take the Mallochons! The compartment finally seemed to stabilize enough for her to try moving again. Feeling her way in the dark, she hobbled forward, intent on getting to her loved ones. Creator, protect them! The nargging doors refused to open. Garrett! Morgan! Wulfe! Cat beat her fists against the panels, fighting back the terror. No good. Cursing the Mallochons and feeling her way in the dark, she snatched the stiletto from her thigh sheath and attempted to work the tip through the seal. The damn thing kept slipping through her sweaty hands. The lift door mechanism groaned and squealed. By the dim light entering through the slit between seals, Cat saw the vague shape of big fingers push through the narrow opening and gain tenuous leverage. A harsh voice uttered a choice Bellon oath. "Commander, are you in there?" Mykal Lyon's voice, still raspy and uneven, came to her between hacking coughs. "Mykal?" Cat braced herself against a sudden maneuver by the Falchion that tried to bounce her around the car's interior. Bloody artificial gravity acting up. "I can't sense the Chapter 3

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children or Wulfe. I've got to get to them. Get me out of here!" "Aye." The security chief grunted as he forced one arm and then part of his shoulder through the opening. The widened gap allowed smoky, acrid air into the lift. "Are you injured?" "I'm okay. How badly are we hit? What's damaged? Do we have injury reports?" "Half the shuttle bay's gone. That's all I know." "The shuttle bay? Sweet Creator, the children." "Can you slide through?" Cat desperately wiggled and squeezed her way out of the lift, fought her way under Lyon's braced arm. Gods, she couldn't breathe right with all the smoke! Her contortions set the car to swaying in its tube. "Mykal, I can't sense Garrett. Or Wulfe. Why can't I feel them?" Lyon boosted her over a fallen beam in the corridor, then hauled himself across to join her. They ran the length of the passage, coughed their way through the smoke, dashed around smoldering debris. The fitful red−colored alert lights gave everything the appearance of being bathed in a blood−red haze. They finally reached the doorway to the shuttle bay. Chapter 3

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"Secured by emergency protocol," Lyon's fist thudded a futile tattoo against the offending portal while he cursed. His dark blonde hair fell across his face when he turned away, but not far enough to hide the outward signs of his escalating concern. Cat scanned the blinking readout panel set flush in the bulkhead. She forced back the useless panic threatening to overwhelm her as the facts sank into her awareness. "The bay−−the bay lost atmosphere. Anybody outside a sealed shuttle−−gods, did I secure the hatch on the Righteous behind me? I can't bloody remember. Sweet Creator, spare the little ones!" She beat her fists against the door. "Help me, Mykal!" A grinding noise filled the corridor. Lyon looked upward. He lunged for Cat, knocked her backward in the same instant part of the structure from the level above crashed down. A support strut slanted over their bodies, keeping all but the smaller pieces of debris off them. The Falchion rocked under them, then righted herself. By the gods, this couldn't be happening! Lyon jerked Cat to her feet, helped her clear a new pathway to the bay door. "Emergency fields generating in the bay, Commander." He flung the final larger pieces of rubble behind them. "Oxygen and pressure levels rising. We'll be able to get inside any second." Chapter 3

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How many seconds too late will that be? Her mind screamed the question, gave voice to the panic she worked so hard to subdue. She felt cold all over. Her insides shook uncontrollably. Lyon grabbed her arm. "I have every faith that you secured the shuttle's hatch, Commander." He spoke in a cool, calm voice. "You must believe this." Cat nodded numbly. She held no such illusion. Her jaw trembled too hard to let words out. "Commander Culver?" Cat didn't recognize the voice. She turned to stare at Frank Ellery, who stood behind her in a torn and dirty uniform. Freckles popped out against a face even paler than normal. His corkscrew curls plastered to his forehead with sweat. "What?" She took a deep breath, then managed to ask, "Status?" Ellery shook his head. "I got out through the panic tube in the control room after my arm got broken. The captain−−" He wouldn't meet her eyes. Her heart froze in her chest. "What about the captain?" "In the bay. Seconds before−−before−−I couldn't do−−" "No! No, you're wrong. He must have been on the bridge." But the truth ravaged her Chapter 3

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heart, raped her mind, extinguished her hope. The mental link between them had vanished during the chaos of the attack, as though Wulfe no longer existed. And now she couldn't reforge that bond. "He can't be in there, too." An emergency repair team rushed down the corridor just as Lyon managed to release the bay door. The panels parted reluctantly only to reveal a nightmare of destruction and lurking grief. Harsh, glaring emergency lights snapped on, gave the bay a ghastly, surreal appearance. Bulkheads and struts, twisted, blackened by smoke and splattered with blood, surrounded them. Cat clambered over a collapsed beam; the raw edges cut her hands and legs. She fought her way through a morass of charred and jagged rubble. She found Wulfe, crumpled on the floor beneath fallen supports, lying in a slow−growing, red pool of death. No! Not Wulfe! Screaming her defiance, Cat lodged her shoulder under the strut wedged over Wulfe's chest and lifted until muscles threatened to tear. Lyon heaved against the struts along with Cat. Ellery used his good shoulder. They raised the beam off Wulfe with their unified exertions. Cat knelt beside this man she loved beyond all reasoning. She searched for signs−−gods, any sign−−of his precious life. Still unable to sense his presence, she grabbed a fistful of Chapter 3

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his long hair, come loose from the confining leather thong. "Don't you dare do this to me, Wulfe! You promised you'd never leave me again! Don't Abandon me again! Don't break your vow to me!" Bellon instinct, her heart, everything in her, demanded she go to Garrett and Morgan. Cat lurched to her feet. Her head spun. She nearly fell face first. "The children−−" "No." Lyon steadied Cat then pushed her back down to her knees. "Stay with the captain. You may be his only chance of survival." "Garrett−−Morgan−−they need−−" "I will see to your children myself, Commander. Trust me." Natural instinct and learned reaction waged a violent war within her until she couldn't breathe. Skilled training finally surfaced, drove her mind to focus even when her body tried to shut down from shock. "Go then, Mykal." She slapped at her comm tag. "Culver to Albright. Priority message. We need a trauma team in the shuttle bay. The captain is down." 'How bad−−' "Get a preservation field down here, now!" Cat rechecked for any signs of life from Wulfe, a sense of his mind. "I can't find a pulse! He's not breathing! Move it!" Chapter 3

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'Already halfway there. Hang on.' Cat labored to save her husband's life. She breathed for him, compressed his chest to force his great heart to move blood. She gritted her teeth, determined to keep him from slipping away. Everything except Wulfe and her fear for Morgan, Garrett and the other children receded. Time blurred. Lyon hunkered his big body down next to her, took over the chest compressions. "Everyone on the Righteous will come through this, Commander. Fallon, bless the Creator, had all the children and herself strapped in, so injuries from the shuttle's flip and impact are practically nonexistent." He spoke in rhythm to his work and Cat's efforts to breathe air into Wulfe. "The pilots and support crews in the other two shuttles didn't survive. The captain?" Cat met Lyon's dark green gaze and for that split second wanted to lose herself, to let her mind wander lost in the calm refuge his eyes offered. But she couldn't hide from this. Everyone needed her more than ever before. Not simply Wulfe and Garrett and Morgan, but the entire crew. Duty and honor demanded she act. "Stand aside," Albright ordered as she plowed her way through the debris to Wulfe's Chapter 3

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side, pushing against Cat's shoulder with her thigh to move Cat aside. The doctor activated the medical scanner in her hand and gave a detached, professional report of Wulfe's injuries. The medical team worked with every drug and piece of equipment available to stabilize their captain and prepare him to be moved. "He's ready to go, Doctor." Moira set the anti−grav gurney into motion. "I'll have teams work with security to check for additional casualties on all other levels of the ship." Cat stood, found her legs shaking from reaction and dread. She wiped blood−sticky hands on the front of her uniform. Her stomach rolled only when she realized most of the dark red fluid belonged to Wulfe. He'd lost far too much. She watched them take her husband away. Would he be alive when she saw him again? "Mykal, once we know we're space−worthy, if we have a chance in the Underworld of taking that Mallochon vessel down, do it! I want that ship's commanding officer!" "Aye, Commander. Shields are already back on line. Our weapons will be soon. Life support is at minimum function." "Help Wheeler coordinate other emergency repair efforts." "Aye." "The children−−" She wanted to see them herself, hold them, comfort them, kiss away Chapter 3

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the bruises and the fright. "Two of my security people are assisting Nurse Fallon. The children are unharmed and quite calm. You have no cause for concern, Commander. Go with the captain. He needs you the most right now." No. Cat shook her head. She wanted a few minutes to reassure herself that Garrett and Morgan, the other ten children and dear Fallon, had come through unscathed. They needed her familiar touch, her familiar voice. She needed them even more. ALBRIGHT SCRUBBED a hand over her tired−looking blue eyes and blinked a couple of times before meeting Cat's steady gaze. "I'm not going to kid you. If we hadn't had the most sophisticated equipment available, the captain never would have survived. Then again, you and Mykal are the ones who kept him alive long enough for me to do my job." "Tell me everything." "The autohealer is mending his broken leg and shoulder. The surgihealer is repairing the damage to his internal organs. The liver, spleen, his lungs and a kidney all received grave injuries. Most of the head trauma has been treated to my satisfaction." Chapter 3

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"Most?" A little word with painfully huge consequences. "I've done everything possible for the head injury, but the captain isn't responding the way I feel he should be." Cat took an unsteady breath. Could brain injury be the reason she couldn't sense Wulfe? No, their connection was as much emotional as mental, and Wulfe's trauma couldn't begin to explain why she no longer sensed Garrett's emotions or presence. Though her connection to her son hadn't had time to deepen as the one with Wulfe had, the loss created a void all its own. She felt isolated and, for one of the few times in her life, uncertain what to do next or how to solve the problem. To make matters worse, her empathic abilities seemed to have forsaken her, as well. She'd come to realize, bit by bit after leaving the shuttle bay and shock had worn off, that she couldn't sense surface emotions from any of the people around her, something she'd relied upon most of her life. Cat debated telling Albright, decided against doing so. The doctor already had enough on her plate with the influx of crew injuries on top of Wulfe's critical condition. "How soon before my husband wakes?" "He should have done so by now." Chapter 3

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"Thought so." The doctor's words made her face what she feared the most. Wulfe might not wake up at all. "How about you? You didn't come through this unscathed." "I think one of the medtechs patched up my knee and the cuts. I can't remember for sure. I'm fit for duty, and that's what counts." Cat pressed her left forearm under breasts grown full and painful with the need to nurse Garrett. Albright, ever observant, noted the gesture. "Catherine, why don't you go see to Morgan and the baby's needs? I'll find you if the least little thing changes here. I promise." Cat found Morgan huddled in her bed, the forgotten doll clutched to her chest. Garrett's restlessness and Fallon's inability to soothe him confirmed his need to nurse. Cat held Garrett in her left arm to feed him, pulled Morgan close to her right side so that they all touched. She looked deep into Garrett's eyes before he grew sleepy and almost whimpered when she failed to reforge the mental connection that had been lost. After a half hour with the children, Cat sent them off with Fallon. Outwardly, the young nurse seemed to be handling the aftermath of the attack well enough, but her tortoiseshell−colored eyes held elements of lingering fear. Cat hoped adherence to routine would reassure Morgan and keep both the girl and Fallon calm. With his stomach full, Chapter 3

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Garrett somehow managed to sleep through chaos. Physically, Cat felt better after nursing Garrett, but the missing connection left her emotionally bereft. Her failure to reestablish the budding link with Garrett infuriated and unnerved her. Maybe routine wasn't such a bad idea. Cat decided to return to her own duties. Erich Wheeler showed up at the door to the family quarters as she was on her way out. She'd never seen his compulsively short brown hair appear so disheveled. Even in the last few weeks when his behavior seemed to go from simply unique to eccentric, he'd maintained the regulation−cut style. "How rough are things looking for us, Erich?" "All the injuries have been managed; reports indicate up to seventy−five people on that list. We lost fourteen people in the launched shuttle, six more from the shuttles still in the bay and one technician who was crushed in a collapsed maintenance tunnel on the starboard side." His eyelids flickered over hazel eyes, his gaze roaming the common area of the captain's quarters. Cat guessed he looked for the children's nurse. "Don't worry about Fallon. She's fine and is with the children, keeping them calm." "Good, good. Sickbay tells me the captain is still out of commission. No sign of the Chapter 3

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Mallochon vessel after she shrouded. Ghosting ships are impossible to find. Repair crews have patched everything together. Everything but the shuttle bay, that is. We're looking at a lot of repair time. What a mess." Cat remembered her first panicked glimpse of the damage and shuddered. She had no desire even to think about the horror. "Maybe now is a good time to reconsider our plans for the bay." "What do you mean, Commander?" "We planned to convert the bay, and several of the lower levels, for that matter. Most of the dismantling has been done for us. Instead of stopping at battle cruiser ability, we should do a complete refit, go straight to warcruiser status. It'll come to that, anyway. Doing so now makes the best use of our enforced downtime and will save us days in the long run." "That's not your decision to make, is it?" Wheeler's lips trembled with his anger. "You may be the captain's wife, but don't forget I am his first officer. I'm in charge until Captain Kincade is ready to resume his duties." Wheeler had seemed insecure in his position as first officer since her arrival. Now that lack of confidence aggrandized. His attitude chilled her, especially when she had no way of knowing what he truly felt about the situation. Like trying to read without knowing the Chapter 3

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language. She'd relied on her empathic talent, reading surface emotions, more than she realized. "Wulfe won't be standing down long enough for you to get comfortable in the position, Erich. You won't have time to lower the big chair enough so your feet can reach the floor." Wheeler scowled at her. "Under the circumstance, I think it best for everyone if I relieve you of duty, Commander Culver." "You truly don't want to do that." She'd lost her empathic abilities and her links to Wulfe and Garrett. Without duty to keep her sane, Cat doubted she'd be able to hold everything else together. If one more disaster occurred, she'd go irretrievably space mad. A possibility, under the circumstances. "I've already done it. By the way, two other Space Corps ships are searching for the Mallochon vessel that attacked us, so keep your Bellon buddy, Lyon, off my back." "If I'm relieved of duty, I can hardly issue orders to Lieutenant Lyon, now can I?" Anger drove her now, hot and volatile. How dare he endanger the people around him? She could handle Wheeler's animosity, but when his actions affected the crew or the ship, she knew she needed to be ready to step in. And squash Wheeler in the process, if need be. "Don't get cute on me, Catherine. Keep Lyon at a distance, a far quiet distance, or I'll Chapter 3

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transfer him out on the next freighter doing deep space duty and he'll never see the inside of the Falchion again. Do you understand me?" "Every word, Commander Wheeler. Every single word." She couldn't allow this situation to get out of hand. Cat softened her tone, hoping to foster some sort of an understanding between them, if only for the sake of the crew. She needed Wheeler to take care of Wulfe's ship while she tended to Wulfe and their children. "Have you given thought to a memorial service for the people we lost?" "What? Oh, right." His trim, athletic body seemed to shrink in on itself, sweat beaded his brow. "I'll arrange for some kind of observance at the beginning of day watch." "Good. With Wulfe out of commission, it's your responsibility to send personal condolences to their families, too." An expression of dismay flashed across Wheeler's face and disappeared. "I don't need you or anyone else to remind me of my duties." "I didn't say you did." Cat resigned herself to the fact she couldn't bloody trust Wheeler to handle the crisis with any degree of competency. She stuffed her anger and resentment toward Wheeler into a hard little ball in the pit of her stomach, then tried to ignore the lump. Wheeler might be Chapter 3

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reacting out of fear or shock, but without her empathic ability to rely on, she had no way to be certain. She couldn't take the chance. Cat waited only until the door closed behind the executive officer. "Computer, open secure channel, authorization Culver−epsilon−omega, match and verify voice print. Establish communication link with Admiral Roy Flemming, scrambled, his eyes only." Stand by. 'Catherine?' "Roy. Glad I caught you." Flemming, one of the highest ranked Covert Specialists operatives in the Corps, smiled at her. The deep, familiar creases in his ebony face immediately made her feel better. 'I haven't had the opportunity to tell you how pleased I am that your parents were safely rescued from their Mallochon kidnappers. Cass and Hawke did an excellent job with that. Nor have I had the chance to offer my congratulations on the recent birth of your son.' "Your sentiments are appreciated." 'How's the proud daddy?' Cat buried her pain, hid the worry, and filled Flemming in on the facts. All except the severed links and her missing ability to read emotions. She kept her voice steady and Chapter 3

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inflection−free. Cat valued his input−−after all, that's why she'd recruited him to Covert Corps−−and didn't want to influence his opinion. 'Wheeler actually relieved you of duty? Ridiculous! That explains why I haven't seen a report detailing the attack. Wheeler's afraid someone like ol' gray−haired me will step in.' "Maybe. I'm not sure exactly what Wheeler's up to." 'I believe you're right about the warcruiser status, but it'll be a scramble to pull all the loose ends together. The League hasn't had two−man fighters for more than a century. The fighter pilots are slated for several weeks of training yet.' "After this last attack, do you truly think we have weeks? I don't. Give us the pilots. Lyon and I will train them while the Falchion is refitted and repaired. We could well have to give them on−the−job experience." War: an ugly word, an uglier reality. A blasphemous thought from a Bellon, but heartfelt. Flemming paused, his brows scrunched together. 'Well, they're your people, a mixture of Fullbloods, Halfbloods, or even less, but all Bellons to one degree or another. They'd probably shape up faster with you and Lyon rather than with our instructors here. That leaves a problem by the name of Wheeler.' "Not if Space Corps Command makes it clear the pilots and flight crews report to me Chapter 3

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until Wulfe is up and about." She'd keep things running the way Wulfe would expect, no matter the cost or who got in the way. Cat felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about how much she'd have to push off on Mykal Lyon. Lyon might regret ever naming her friend, but she'd nearly reached her limit this time. 'By Command, I suppose you mean me.' "No one else." 'Let me conduct a few negotiations on this end, because the change in procedure won't happen on its own. To think I could be retired by now, but no, I had to let you talk me into Covert.' "You live for this kind of thing, Roy. You'd be blithering after a month of dull, uneventful retirement. Besides, the Corps can't afford to lose you right now." 'Convinced you know me pretty well, aren't you? Give me a few hours. You'll know I've succeeded when hell breaks loose.' Cat blanked the comm screen. She closed her eyes, hoping the stolen moment of quiet would soothe the edges of her crumbling control. She seemed to have everyone else convinced she could handle the crisis. Flemming would come through for her. She had to believe. That faith kept all hope alive for her. For the children. For Wulfe. For all of them. Chapter 3

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CAT HESITATED outside sickbay. She still had no sense of connection with Wulfe. Twice in the past Wulfe had been unconscious. Neither time resulted in losing the mental link. This new sense of isolation mangled her confidence. What if they could never reform that wondrous bond? The thought terrified her. "Commander?" Cat turned to find Mykal Lyon's green−eyed gaze searching her face. What a dear friend. When they were among other people, Mykal took scrupulous care always to refer to her as 'Commander' or 'Lady'. Only when they were alone did he call her Cat. "Lost in thought, I guess. Did you say something?" "I asked after the captain." She gestured to the doorway opposite where they stood. "I'm on my way in to see Wulfe now, though I doubt there's a change." "He's not awake?" "Not yet." "The captain doesn't have your remarkable powers of healing, Commander. You need to develop some patience for the untrained. Nothing will keep Wulfe Kincade from your side. Chapter 3

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Nothing. Surely you know he would battle Garesh himself to be with you." "I needed to be reminded of that." A friend who always knew what to say. She squared her shoulders and entered Albright's domain, now slightly less intimidated. Cat stood at the side of Wulfe's recovery bed. Never had she seen this indomitable, fearless, obstinate giant of a warrior so defenseless. The sight quite simply broke her heart, and she couldn't do a thing about his condition. Her confidence deflated. Gods, how she despised feeling so helpless, so ineffectual. "Nora?" Without flinching, Albright met her gaze from the other side of the bed. The doctor's recently cropped blonde hair looked ragged and spiky from running her hands through the unfamiliar short strands. "I want to move him across to the station." Fear for Wulfe prickled sharply across her skin. "Why? I trust you and Moira more than anyone else. What's gone wrong?" "Relax, Catherine. Admittedly, I'm not happy about the fact he hasn't wakened, but that's not the reason. The techs will be working in sickbay to expand our capacity level. Isn't the threat of war grand?" Albright bared her teeth in a mirthless grimace. "Just in case enough people don't die by natural causes, some idiot invented war." The doctor's gesturing hands settled at her sides. "Sorry. I get carried away sometimes. I Chapter 3

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don't want the captain disturbed by the noise, that's all." Cat's quick swell of panic settled back into the murky pool of worry to which she'd become accustomed over the past hours. "I can live with that reason easily enough if it's the only one." "Catherine, do you feel the captain's any closer to consciousness?" Cat couldn't look at Albright. She didn't know if she had the strength to admit her weakness, so she kept her gaze on Wulfe's face instead. "You're the doctor." "I just thought that with your−−" "I can't sense anything from him, okay?" Cat glared at her, feeling defensive and utterly vulnerable all at the same time. Albright's eyes popped wide open. Then she developed a strong fascination with the bio readouts next to Wulfe's bed. "You sense nothing from him? I mean, well, I thought−−" "Normally, you'd be right." "I knew you were acting strangely. I shouldn't have pushed you. How badly has the bond deteriorated?" "Gone entirely," Cat forced the admission out. "Oh, heavenly stars, why didn't you say something sooner?" Chapter 3

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"You had enough to be concerned about." "I'll let you know when I've reached overload. Anything I can do? Do you think his head injury destroyed the link?" "I don't know." Even talking about the break in the link made her feel twitchy. What if the broken bond was part of the reason Wulfe hadn't wakened? It could be her fault, she could have caused this damage. "Forget I said anything. You're certain moving Wulfe to the station won't aggravate his condition?" "No reason it should, but your presence might be of help. Can the crew spare you long enough to let you go with us?" "My time is yours, at least for the next few hours. Mister Wheeler has seen fit to relieve me of duty." At the moment, that gave her a sense of relief, the freedom to be with her husband. Albright's mouth opened in silent surprise. "Nora, could I have a few minutes alone with Wulfe before you move him?" "Of course. I'll be in my office when you're ready." Cat sat on the edge of the bed. Then, in a moment of painful self−indulgence, changed her mind. She couldn't bear to feel so far away from him even when this close. Cat Chapter 3

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stretched out on the bed next to Wulfe. She wrapped an arm around his waist and rested her head on his massive chest so she could hear the rhythm of his mighty warrior's heart. If only, oh, gods, if only she could touch his mind, help him to heal himself. She'd do anything within her power to see those dark eyes open and blaze with emotion. Rage, passion, joy. Any emotion at all would do. When Wulfe abandoned her after she miscarried the baby all those years ago, she'd felt desperately alone, but even then, she'd sensed the essence of him, deep in her mind, because the bonding link hadn't been severed. Now that lifeline to sanity had vanished without warning or reason, and she felt more alone, more forsaken, than at any other time in her life. Truly abandoned. Lying next to him like this should have filled her with an indescribable sense of joyous completion, but she found instead unqualified loneliness. The same desolate solitude that drove some Erosians to madness or death upon the demise of a mate. Cat shivered. Possible scenarios flooded her brain with unwanted, unpleasant images. Only someone who had been privileged enough to experienced the Erosian bonding could understand the void threatening her logic, the very core of her rationality, her existence. Cat blessed the Creator for the Glory of Wulfe's continued life, and in the same breath, Chapter 3

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cursed Garesh for taking her husband from her and plunging them into the deepest levels of the Underworld. From far, far away, she heard the maniacal laughter of the Underworld overseer as he crept closer, as if rational thought already trickled away, like tiny grains of sand through dry fingers.

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Chapter 4 'MERCIFUL HEAVENS, but we've managed to open a pod full of dirt crawlers, Catherine.' Cat's initial alarm faded away when she noticed Flemming's quietly pleased expression. She admired the way the admiral always seemed to find the brighter side to any dark moment. Cat smiled weakly at his reassuring image on her comm screen. "Am I to understand you've hit a snag or two?" 'Have you considered all the ramifications? By shipping the fighters and their crews to you now, we begin a personnel shuffle not expected so soon. To say the Command brass has been caught with their command pants down around their command ankles is accurate, though, I must admit, not an overly appealing mental image.' "And you're right in the middle of the chaos, enjoying every minute of their collective discomfort." 'Every second, because for once, my pants are still fastened securely at my waist. Wheeler's report finally came through. Can't say that I'm pleased by all of his choices. He also neglected to mention a few minor details, such as relieving you of duty. Chapter 4

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"I'm not surprised, Admiral." 'Wulfe hasn't come to yet?' Cat bit her lip and shook her head. The slight buoyancy of mood she'd experienced disappeared in a flash of emotional pain. Wulfe should be awake by now. She worried that his head injuries were more serious than Albright let on. 'Damn.' Everyone needed Wulfe back on the job. Cat felt a fleeting sense of guilt and selfishness for missing him personally, then decided she had every right. She didn't want to broadcast her inadequacy, though, even to Flemming. Her feelings remained secondary. If admitting her own weakness helped Wulfe, then so be it. "Roy, I need to do this for Wulfe. He would expect me to act on his behalf and I−−I need that connection right now." 'Catherine, the orders for the flight crews are being cut now. The crews will be on their way before the day is done. The news will be released within the hour. Brace yourself young lady; Wheeler's not going to be happy with us. "Tell me something I don't know." When the screen went blank, Cat decided to be even more selfish and take advantage of the time Flemming had given her. She called out to Chapter 4

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Fallon, in Morgan's bedroom. "Let's take the children out of the quarters. Morgan needs a chance to run off some energy." For forty−five minutes, Cat pushed everything but her son and daughter to the back of her mind. She fed and cuddled Garrett while Fallon and Morgan played an exuberant game of tag through the arboretum's trees. She held Morgan on her lap while the girl giggled through the newest childish joke learned in the children's center. Even Fallon relaxed as she stretched out on the soft moss under the trees with Cat and the children. Wheeler eventually found Cat in the Falchion's arboretum. She watched him approach, his stiff−legged gait a warning indicator of his agitated mood. She motioned to Fallon, whose complexion had finally returned to a healthy, natural toffee color. "Take Garrett and Morgan back to our quarters. I'll join you as soon as I'm able." Fallon obliged her, gathered the little ones and their toys. Seemingly unaware of the stifling tension, the nurse gave Wheeler a flirtatious smile on her way past him. Wheeler spewed a string of angry, belligerent words meant to intimidate. His tactics didn't work. Cat sliced her hand through the air, stopped him in midsentence. "I won't have you ranting like a lunatic around my children, Mister Wheeler. You will have the decency to Chapter 4

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wait until they are gone." Cold silence filled the garden area until the nurse and her charges disappeared from sight. Cat tried to feel Wheeler's emotions, failed completely. Her own inner chaos more than made up for the lack. Dread and determination warred a silent battle. "Now, what's your problem?" "You just couldn't stay out of it, could you, Catherine?" So the orders had arrived from Command. Cat took a deep breath, prepared to bluff her way through. "What do you mean?" "Don't play the innocent with me. I know your game. You went over my head. The Falchion is being transformed into a warcruiser, despite my best suggestions. The fighters and flight crews are assigned to you. As an added insult, Lieutenant Lyon has been ordered to report directly to you, too. Tidy little job you've done, outflanking me that way." "I see." Did something more than hurt feelings drive him? She couldn't tell, but she took the fact that his hazel eyes wouldn't meet hers as a bad omen. Even without her empathic ability working, it was obvious his moods skipped from anger and on to near−mania at a drop of a nanochip. "You see? You see?" Wheeler's pretty−boy face contorted into ugly lines. "I'm surprised Chapter 4

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you didn't convince Flemming to court−martial me while you were at it." "The idea definitely appeals to me right now." Cat moved to sidestep him. "If I'm reinstated, I'd better get back to duty. We have enough work to keep an army busy." He grabbed her upper arm and squeezed. "That's all you have to say to me, Catherine? This is so easy for you, isn't it?" Easy? Nothing could be further from the truth. Cat wouldn't give him the satisfaction of looking up into his face, nor did she have the time to appeal to his vanity. Brutal truth, then. She stared at his grasping hand until he self−consciously released her and moved away. She exhaled a breath of relief. "Consider yourself lucky, Mister Wheeler. Up until now, I've tried not to step too hard on your touchy little toes, but with your present attitude, all wagers are off. If you can't help, stay out of my way. End of conversation." Cat walked away toward the nearest exit without hurrying, never looked back. She didn't need to block out Wheeler's anger; she couldn't feel any of his emotions. Fine by her. Empathic ability equaled pain; haunting death screams echoed in her mind. Cat shied away from thinking about those cries. Never hearing another death scream seemed like a wonderful idea. She almost stopped in her tracks. Could accepting the loss of her empathic abilities be the first telling sign of madness? Chapter 4

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The lift didn't even get Cat as far as the next deck before the comm tag on her uniform collar emitted a low tone, alerting her to an active link. "Culver." 'Catherine, Nora here.' Cat instantly went on guard. The doctor seldom identified herself by her first name over a comm link. "One moment." Cat stepped off the lift when the car halted at the next deck. She found a deserted stretch of corridor before asking, "Wulfe?" Albright laughed gently, a sound of obvious relief. 'He's beginning to regain consciousness. Finally. Moira's giving the captain a quick scan. By the time you get over here to the station, you'll be able to see for yourself. Interested?' "Oh, gods, Nora. I'm on my way." Heart beating almost as fast as her running feet pounded the deck, she raced to reach her husband's side. Cat pushed aside the worry of still not being able to sense him. She rejoiced in his awakening, even if she should have intuitively recognized his return to consciousness long before some piece of Albright's equipment did. One step at a time, she counseled herself, one victory at a time. Cat rushed back to the lift and zoomed her way down several levels to the secondary bay, where she commandeered the first available cutter and flew to the station. Once docked at Uhlein, she located an idle lift, thumbed the safety override and sped her way to Chapter 4

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the twenty−first level. She spied Moira standing in the corridor opposite Uhlein's main medical section. The woman's cool, remote expression remained unchanged. Cat's breath hitched in her chest. She barely managed to keep from shouting her questions. Only when she stood directly in front of the Syllogian doctor did she ask in a forced, calm voice, "Has something gone wrong?" "No, Commander. The captain should be opening his eyes any moment." Moira reached out to brush her fingertips against Cat's left temple, an automatic gesture of comfort and contact between those trained in the healing arts on Erosia. Moira drew her hand back and tucked a stray lock of black hair into the severely styled bun positioned at the back of her head. The typical Syllogian serenity of Moira's face managed to convey concern. "Are you coping with the situation, Commander?" "As well as can be expected." It was one thing to consciously block out or filter the strident emotions of those around her, but not having the choice changed matters, took away her control. Cat couldn't help but wonder if not being able to use her empathic powers hindered or helped her performance under pressure. Either way, the new isolation Chapter 4

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unnerved her. Now it seemed Moira may have picked up on some of the uncertainty. Cat could only hope the Syllogian hadn't discerned the reason for the insecurity badgering her. "Are you ready, Commander?" "Completely." "Go on in, then. Doctor Albright is with the captain." "CAPTAIN? WAKE up, Captain. Time to rejoin us." "W'at?" Wulfe struggled and fought his way up from a blackness that seemed colder and more endless than space. Lonelier, too. What had he been doing? Images blurred together in his mind. Smoke. Fire. Desolate airlessness. Wulfe cleared his throat and tried again. "What'd you say?" "Rise and shine. Lie still a moment so I can take a few readings now that you're conscious." He complied even though the enforced lull in darkness felt like a perverse form of Earther torture. His muscles screamed for movement, action. "Finish. Now." "Take it easy. Catherine's on her way." Chapter 4

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"Catherine?" Wulfe blinked gritty, swollen eyelids. "Of course. She'd have my head if I didn't send for her right away. She may be busy making plans for the damage repair and modifications to the Falchion, but that won't stop her." "I see." He didn't, not really. Every time Albright mentioned Catherine he felt...nothing. A void. And what the narg was this person doing making plans for his ship? "Doctor? About this Ca−−" Wulfe heard door panels slide open. He turned his head toward the sound in the darkness, tried to discern who entered the room. Why didn't someone turn on the lights? "Speaking of the lady, here she is now," Albright announced. The physician's false cheerfulness grated on his nerves, and with good reason. An overly cheerful Nora Albright usually meant trouble of some kind. "Who?" "Catherine, of course. Your wi−−" "Blast it, Doctor, if you want me to meet this Catherine, whoever the narg she is, you could at least turn on some lights so I can see. Lights, fifty percent." "Oh, my dear sweet stars," Albright whispered. Wulfe heard a small noise come from the direction of the new arrival, a sound that could Chapter 4

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have been a soft gasp either of shock or of pain. The quiet exclamation made his heart lurch. "What's happened?" "Wulfe?" His entire body reacted in a decidedly male way to the throaty, feminine voice speaking his name. Then the scent worn by the one with the sultry voice reached him. Spicy, mysterious, as smoky as her voice. Oh, he had to see who possessed such richness. His imagination produced an image of a lithe body clad in curve−hugging ivory leather. "Who is it? Are you Catherine?" "Aye." The single word carried a hint of hesitation, but also an undercurrent of determined strength. "Perhaps you can tell me why we have no power in here. As usual, Doctor Albright tends to speak in time−wasting riddles." Wulfe rubbed a spot on his head. The dull ache inside his skull refused to subside, testing his temper even further. "Captain, we have power," Albright informed him with a note of cool detachment. Professional; the doctor had gone professional on him. Another bad sign. "Where are we, Doctor?" "We are in Station Uhlein's medical bay." Chapter 4

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"What the narg−−" Wulfe sat up with a jolt he regretted when pain roared through his head. "And we have lights, Captain," Albright continued. "Just now, when you ordered lights to fifty percent, they dimmed." "But I can't−−" Reality hit him with a heavy fist. His headache expanded. Blind? He couldn't be! Once blinded, warriors didn't exist any longer as warriors. They became burdens. Useless encumbrances to those around them. More honorable to die outright, and far more preferable. "I am blind." "So I now understand," Albright assuaged with maddening ease. "My job will be to discover what the problem is and proceed to repair the damage." Wulfe recoiled from his chief medical officer's words. He resented her need to soothe him as if he were some weak Earther child. Burgeoning frustration only made his head pound harder. A slim hand, too small to be Albright's, slid into his, gripped him with unexpected force, as though attempting to imbue strength through touch. The exotic scent floated closer, teased his senses. Wulfe reached with his free hand and found a slender shoulder covered in a thick fall of curly, silky−feeling hair. Chapter 4

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"Catherine?" "Aye. You are among friends, Wulfe. Comrades dedicated to making you well once more. Do not forget that. You will see again. The Creator will put this right, with Nora's help. You are a burden to no one. Today was not the best of times to die. Sister Fate holds other, better plans for you." The female's confident touch, her words, even her tone of voice, did the unexpected. They seemed to temper his rising anger and frustration with the situation, relieve the sense of unfairness and waste. Almost as if she understood what he felt. Impossible, because only another Bellon could comprehend. Only another warrior would know what awaited him. "Stay as calm as you can, Captain," Albright advised him in that damnable professional voice. "Moira will stay with you for a minute or two while I see to someone else. We will answer all your questions as soon as possible." "Then answer this one: How soon am I going to see again?" The petite hand he held tensed, then eased from his. The delicate fingers glided past his in a slow, pleasure−giving withdrawal that brought his body to attention. Inexplicably, he felt abandoned and bereft when her touch vanished, as if he'd unwittingly allowed something precious to slip away. Chapter 4

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CAT'S KNEES threatened to buckle, but only because her heart seemed to have stopped beating and her lungs to have ceased breathing. She leaned against the corridor's bulkhead while she tried to take it all in. The mind simply refused to absorb some facts readily. Cat looked at the hand Wulfe had held in his, shook her head. She slid down the bulkhead to sit on the deck, clenched that same hand and pounded the fist against her bent knee. "He can't see. He didn't know me." Albright joined her, sitting cross−legged, and rested the back of her head against the wall. "This is a bit of a sticky situation, but I'm not going to give up, and neither will he. That means you can't surrender to despair, either." "I won't have to. I'm going back in there right now and tell Wulfe the truth, tell him who I am. The sooner he knows everything, the sooner we can get back to normal around here." Cat scrambled to her knees, intent on suiting actions to words. Albright caught her before she could stand, yanked her down to the deck again. "Whoa! You're doing no such thing." "Wulfe needs to know." Gods, I need him to know. "Yes, when he's ready." Albright pursed her lips, fiddled with the short spikes of her Chapter 4

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hair. "In my opinion, the captain isn't at that point, yet. Psychologically speaking." A black hole yawned wide beneath Cat, its inexorable force jeopardizing her tenuous hold in the emotional universe. "Explain." "This has been a shock to all of us. I've found no physical reason for either the amnesia or the blindness. That leaves a few other possibilities. You saw my antics in the recovery room, the light in his eyes, how I waved my hand in his face. I even stuck my tongue out at him." Nora Albright was the only Earther Cat knew who'd have the temerity to do such a thing to Wulfe Kincade. "I'm here and alive to tell the tale, so that alone proves he's not, uh, faking the blindness." Outrage roiled through Cat, followed by a cowardly strand of doubt. "You can't possibly entertain the idea Wulfe would even try to do something like feigning blindness or memory loss!" "No, of course not, but, logically, that particular avenue had to be considered and systematically discarded as an option." Cat struggled to keep from lashing out at her friend, the same woman who'd saved Chapter 4

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Wulfe's life, and hers, more than once. "So we're down to psychological and emotional options unless you manage to come up with a physical cause you haven't yet discovered." "Looks that way to me. Until we deduce the exact point in time these afflictions struck him, determine the precise cause, we could create even more damage to his psyche by revealing the truth too soon. I hate to admit it, but damage we may not be skilled enough to heal." Fear. Ghastly doubt. Resentment. Chilling insecurity. The grim possibilities numbed her. Cat searched Albright's clear blue eyes, found a dim shadow that echoed the thought torturing her own mind. "Oh, gods, you think Wulfe doesn't want to remember me." "I did not say that! A severe emotional trauma could create reactions like those we're seeing. We'll have to backtrack, find out everything we can about his actions up to the point of the shuttle bay explosion and resulting decompression." "Everything−−the bond−−all gone. I feel like I'm working with only half a brain. How can I be certain I'm doing the right thing?" "You do what I do. Simply believe the captain will manage to overcome this setback." "Setback? Nora, who are you kidding? One whisper of this," she jerked her head in the direction of the infirmary, "gets back to Space Corps Command, and Wulfe's position as Chapter 4

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captain of the Falchion is gone. Blindness they'll accept, but memory loss? Not a chance, especially with war looming on the horizon." "How can I keep something this big out of the medical logs?" Cat could only hope the Creator guided her along the right path. She made a split−second decision. "How soon are you required to report Wulfe's condition?" Albright pushed the fingers of one hand through her short, blonde hair, rearranging the spikes again, and shrugged. "Technically, now. But with the uproar over the Mallochon attack, medical reports aren't at the top of everyone's list. Why? What's going on in that head of yours?" "What if you received a direct order from, say, someone like Admiral Flemming, to keep this news to yourself?" She'd buy any time she could for Wulfe, even if she had to break every rule. Albright turned her head far enough to look at Cat through squinted eyes. She plumped out one cheek for a moment. "Well, technically, I suppose I would be obligated to follow orders." "Pretend you've gotten that order, for at least an hour." "What are you up to?" Albright held up a hand, palm out. "No, please, don't tell me any Chapter 4

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of the sordid details. The less you say, the less I can hurt you if Command corners me." "You know if Wulfe is forced to relinquish captaincy of the Falchion, the loss will destroy him. Forfeiting the Falchion would be like losing a part of himself, a very critical part. His entire life has been built around this command." The life he led without me. Cat tried to drive the painful thought away, only half succeeded. "I'm not above using extreme measures to keep Wulfe exactly where he belongs. In the big chair." "You're gambling an awful lot." "He's worth the risk, no matter how high. I'll hazard everything I need to. You going to give me that hour?" Cat held her breath. She couldn't order Nora to jeopardize her career. "Why not? I've always hated making out those pesky reports anyway." Albright closed her eyes. "Catherine, you must believe the blindness and amnesia are only temporary. The captain could never truly forget you. I know−−stars, I've seen−−how much that man loves you." She opened her eyes and looked at Cat squarely. "He'll be his old self in no time flat." "Creator willing." Gods, what if the memory lapse became permanent? How could she live like that? How could the children? "I might not like the truth of this predicament, but right now, remembering me is secondary." Her mind churned with hectic plans to buy time for her husband. "Nora, if you were Chapter 4

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under orders to cut the Falchion crew by half, could you make a list of remaining personnel you'd swear were loyal to Wulfe?" "I suppose so. Most of the crew would follow him anywhere, but I can think of some who would question the reason." "Those are the ones we have to cut. I'll need the roster by the end of the hour you're giving me. We must keep news of Wulfe's condition from everyone else for now. You, Moira, Mykal, me. That's all. Not even Wheeler. Agreed?" Albright stood, pulled Cat to her feet. "Agreed. In the meantime, Moira and I will begin a battery of tests to see how extensive the blindness and amnesia are and to find any possible underlying cause. We might be overreacting. The captain could be in there with Moira talking about you right now." "If you believed that, you wouldn't give me the hour so easily." Cat returned to the Falchion while plans and ways to circumvent protocol fermented in her mind. The first endeavor, convincing Wheeler to work with her rather than against her, fell flat. In the space of less than three minutes, Wheeler's taciturn attitude degenerated into open hostility before he walked away from her. Meeting with Lyon restored Cat's confidence enough to conduct business effectively. Chapter 4

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They agreed on a plan and how to implement the scheme with the least amount of turmoil. A conversation with Flemming reinforced her conviction she was doing the right thing. The admiral vowed to call in as many favors owed him as he could to expedite her hasty plan to keep Wulfe in command. Flemming even admitted he'd make good on some outlandish promises in the effort to support plans for the Falchion. Cat pushed the boundaries of protocol herself. She threatened, cajoled, blackmailed and put the fear of the Creator into anyone worth contacting. Her position within the clandestine Covert Ops, along with her family's status, extended her reach far beyond that of the normal Corps officer. A Syllogian ambassador for a father. A mother seated on the Bellon Tribunal. Remarkable clout, though she'd never drawn upon it before. Cat squared her shoulders with conviction. Not many people besides Wulfe, or the cause on his behalf, could have convinced her to wield that power, but use it she did. Ruthlessly. An hour later, Cat practically collapsed into a chair opposite Albright and Moira in the temporary office the station had assigned to the Falchion's medical personnel. Mykal Lyon, who'd come back to the station with her, pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Albright shook her head. "You look like the devil himself has been punishing you." Cat returned Albright's grim look. Even now, Flemming would be authorizing the Chapter 4

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uncooperative Wheeler's immediate transfer. "You're not so far from the truth. Do you have that list of names we discussed?" Albright nodded and handed her a tiny data chip. "For what it's worth, here you go." "Now to correlate your list with mine and Mykal's." Cat popped the chip into the small handheld computer she'd brought with her, set the parameters, and allowed the simple program to run in the handcom. She couldn't wait any longer to ask, "Did your last battery of tests find any new information about Wulfe's condition?" "I don't know what's wrong, Catherine. I've run every test known to medical science. Twice. Then I invented some of my own. We can send a crew to any quadrant of the universe, so you'd think we'd be able to−−oh, don't let me get started." Albright's blue eyes appeared faded out and tired, and she suddenly looked far older than her mere forty−some cycles as she continued. "After a few subtle questions, it seems the captain remembers nothing about you, Garrett or Morgan. He vaguely recalls seeing your father at the Corps Academy, but says he never met the ambassador in person. Naturally, he knows of the famous Dove Burnelle, but insists he's never met your mother. Neither does he remember Morgan's birth mother." "He's lost the last ten years of his life?" Cat heard the note of panic in her own voice, Chapter 4

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instantly regretted the slip. Lyon took a mug from Moira, handed the Bellon tea to Cat as he nodded his encouragement. She accepted gratefully, suddenly aware Lyon, with his neat uniform and long blond hair securely tied back, seemed to be the only person in the room not fraying around the edges. The same sure couldn't be said for her. "The captain hasn't lost the entire ten years, only portions of that time. He can tell you to the day when he took command of the Falchion, and everything concerning his career up to today, including the last few months. He even knows what time he went to the wardroom for lunch two days ago." Cat sipped at the hot tea and mulled over Albright's disclosures. She had to stay calm and in control in front of others. "Two days ago? As I recall, Wulfe met me at thirteen−ten." The stress had even begun to unravel Moira's stoic facade; more and more black strands of hair kept popping out of her tight chignon. "That's approximately the time he gave us, but according to the captain, he ate his meal alone." Cat had expected as much, but the confirmation of the facts cut through her like a keen−edged yataghan, left her unable to speak. Chapter 4

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"We won't know the full extent of his amnesia for quite some time," Albright took up the explanation. "We'll discover other items he's forgotten the more the captain converses. On a brighter note, everything may come back to him before we get that far. Wouldn't be the first time." "What's the bottom line here?" Cat traced the familiar, intricate design on her stiletto hilt with a shaky forefinger. She kept her other hand busy squeezing the mug. "I can find no physical reason for either affliction to continue. He could−−and please note I say could−−go to sleep tonight, wake up tomorrow, remember everything but having the amnesia and being blind!" "Give him a sedative and put him to sleep, then. I'm willing to give almost anything a try." Cat bit her bottom lip, fighting the note of hysterical desperation and the hateful quaver in her voice that threatened to betray her wavering control. She couldn't fall apart until she was alone, away from observation of any kind. "I wish it were that easy, but it isn't. The captain has very reluctantly agreed to stay put until Moira finishes the personal sensor array she's redesigning for him. The equipment will allow him to move around on his own until he does regain his sight." Made sense. Wulfe wouldn't ask for help to get around. Cat finished her tea, plunked the Chapter 4

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mug to the desk surface. "Okay, so now what?" "I hope you're ready to put this scheme into action. The captain is furious because we've refused to answer most of his questions." Albright shrugged a shoulder. "I wasn't certain where you were headed with all your preparations. He won't accept being put off much longer, and I'd prefer not to have an enraged Bellon in sickbay. Raises hell with the equipment, not to mention the personnel." Cat checked the faces of the others for any indication of hesitancy. "This is the final decision time." "It is," Lyon agreed, "and we are with you. I suggest Doctor Moira and I continue with our individual work while you and Doctor Albright proceed with your plans for the captain." He and Moira left Cat and Albright alone in the office. Cat swallowed back the expanding doubts and insecurities. She'd better be right the first time, because they wouldn't get a second chance. Space Corps Command wouldn't give them the opportunity, even if she managed to hang on to her sanity. "Let's carry out the plan, Doctor. Follow my lead. If you have any questions as we go along, remember to ask me later. If−−when−−we clear this first hurdle, we can work out the details once we're alone. Only a handful of people know what's going to happen next." Chapter 4

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Cat reached across the desk, clasped Albright, forearm to forearm, warrior to warrior. "Nora, as good a doctor as you are, you're an even better friend." Albright let out a slow breath, an obvious effort to stay calm. "In for a credit, in for a fortune, I always say." Cat gave an extra squeeze of reassurance before breaking her grip. "Later, other key individuals will be told, but only as needed. Between now and the time Wulfe is released to go back to the Falchion, you will see the fastest shuffle of starcruiser personnel ever conceived. Not to mention the editing I have planned for the ship's computer and its logs." Cat turned to leave the office with Albright. Unbidden, her most secret inner fear forced its way into her awareness. What if Wulfe really could remember, but simply didn't want or need her anymore? After all, he had Abandoned her once, and now she'd provided him with that all−important Bellon son. What stopped him from Abandoning her now? She tried to touch Wulfe mentally, failed miserably. In reality, he'd Abandoned her already. She felt another grain of sand slip through her fingers as one more degree of rational thought faltered.

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Chapter 5 CAT FALTERED at the entrance to Wulfe's recovery room. She glanced up and down the corridor in the station's medical wing, delaying the moment, loathing the hesitancy that invaded her. If she approached Wulfe incorrectly, more disaster would surely follow. Uncertainty rolled through her, laid the foundation for further doubts, additional skepticism. Her objective of helping Wulfe generated risks to everyone else. Could she honestly justify the dangers? Yes, because, Wulfe ultimately continued to be the best protector of those others. Add in the fact that she loved Wulfe more than she'd ever believed it possible to love someone.... "Catherine?" Albright touched Cat's arm and gave her a questioning look. "You want to rethink your intention to keep Wulfe in charge?" Of course she bloody well wanted to reevaluate her plans. What sane person wouldn't? "We don't have the time to deviate now even if I wanted to. I must do this." "Ready, then?" Cat nodded and stepped inside, her mind yelling, no, no, I'm not ready. In her wildest Chapter 5

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dreams, she could never have imagined a time when Wulfe wouldn't know her. She willed herself to be strong enough to face the challenge of what awaited her, determined no one would realize how dry her mouth felt, how her stomach jumped. Wulfe's body filled the too−small chair next to the bed. He swung his head in their direction. "Who's there? Erich, is that you? Answer me, blast it!" His deep voice held frustration, worry, and an abundance of Bellon anger. Cat decided to take all three as positive signs. "Tell me who's there!" "Your favorite doctor," Albright answered, "and Catherine." "Why haven't you allowed Erich in to see me?" Wulfe took a breath. His nostrils flared. He stopped his demands and turned in Cat's direction. Cat forced herself to go forward and sit on the edge of the bed, close enough to get a good look at him. He seemed calmer all of a sudden, at least to a casual observer, but the muscles in his jaw bunched and flexed, betrayed his inner turmoil. Lines of tension had formed around Wulfe's sexy brown eyes, now devoid of expression or fire. Gods, she wanted−−needed−−to touch him, hold him, and be held by him. The last things she could do or be at this moment. "I assume you mean Erich Wheeler?" Chapter 5

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"Yes. He is my first officer." Wulfe took another breath and angled his head as though concentrating, then turned back toward her. The muscles in his jaw relaxed. "I remember you." "You do?" Cat's heart thumped madly at the three simple words. "Oh, yes." He inhaled again, a ghost of a smile lifted one corner of his moustache. "You were here right after I woke up." "Correct, Captain." For one heart−rending moment, she'd taken his words at face value. Sharp disappointment cut through her now and efficiently destroyed those few seconds of absolute joy. "In answer to your question, Mister Wheeler is no longer your executive officer. He has been transferred to the Orion." "Impossible. First, I would know about such a change. Second, Space Corps Command wouldn't put him on a smaller ship without a solid reason." "The Orion needed a captain. Mister Wheeler has been promoted. Solid enough for you?" She worked to keep her voice level. Flemming had fought Wheeler's promotion, but she'd managed to convince the admiral they owed Wheeler that much. Cat hoped she would have no reason to regret her efforts. "When? I don't remember−−" Chapter 5

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"I'm your first officer now. Commander Catherine Culver." "Command wouldn't make a total stranger my first. A captain has prerogative in such matters." "Aye, a captain does, and you did. I've been aboard the Falchion for several months now, as your second officer and your head of sciences." "My second officer is Jinny Riordan." "And she is again." Unable to shake the feeling she betrayed Wulfe, Cat stared at the deck. She hated the half−truths so much she couldn't look at him. She knew the deceptions needed to be uttered for the good of all. "Command assigned me to your ship with warcruiser status as the ultimate goal." "And the goal of replacing Wheeler?" "I suppose it must seem that way now. The Orion's sudden need for a captain came as a surprise to Corps Command, and Wheeler was the closest available qualified officer." Cat managed to get the last two words out without them choking her. "Once the Falchion sustained such extensive damage in the Mallochon attack, Command decided to upgrade her status to warcruiser as quickly as possible instead of waiting. Since Mister Wheeler has no practical experience with fighters and flight crews, I'm the logical Chapter 5

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choice to take the slot as the exec on a warcruiser." "You have the required proficiency?" "Aye, Captain, I do. My training is extensive." "Blast Corps Command and their ineptness straight to the Underworld!" His fist slammed into the opposing palm. "You object to my posting?" She hadn't counted on that. What would she do if he adamantly opposed her? "Nothing personal, Commander, but I thought the first squadron of pilots is composed entirely of Bellons." "So it is. What's the problem, Sir?" A small sound of impatience escaped from him. "Be realistic, Commander. A division of Bellon pilots would be too much for an Earther male. A female like you hasn't a chance." "Like me, Sir?" Maybe lack of sleep, too little food and the situation itself made her edgy, but Wulfe's overt Bellon attitude pushed a lot of buttons for her. Shades of years past. "In what way do you mean that?" "Small. Not accustomed to commanding Bellons. Earther." "Ah." Cat endured all the old hurts and resentments in silence as they welled up inside, Chapter 5

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reopened bygone wounds. She reminded herself that Wulfe didn't know any better. Again. He'd forgotten the revelations that had once turned his universe upside down−−the Bellon heart beating within her chest, for one−−when he'd accepted her for whom, not what, she was. He couldn't recall any of the sacrifices each had made to be with the other, risking their lives for each other and the good of the League. He didn't even remember he'd claimed to love her more than he cared for honor or pride−−something nearly unthinkable to a Bellon. Would he ever feel that way again, the way she still did? Someday, when peace returned to the galaxies, she'd do her best to remind him of the claim, what they meant to each other. Wulfe had fought his attraction to her so many years ago, using the prejudices against offworlders and mixed blood as a barrier between them. Until he'd admitted what he'd known all along−−a person's heart and soul and actions mattered more than any outward appearance or racial bloodlines. For one doubt−filled moment, Cat wondered if she had the strength to go through the tempest again. A heartbeat later she decided she could march unarmed through the Underworld against Garesh to reach the glorious rewards of their union. "I want immediate access to the Falchion's computer." Chapter 5

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"Not possible at the moment, Captain," Cat answered without hesitation. She'd expected the demand and had prepared a believable response based, in part, on truth. "Our main computer system is down−−an unusually strong electromagnetic power surge nearly wiped the core−−and all auxiliary memory is being utilized for diagnostics, life support and repairs. Life support hasn't even been restored to a few sections yet. Every crew member capable of using a sonic wrench or gel biopatch is on the job." "We were hit that badly?" Wulfe's jaw tightened again. "Aye. The Falchion took heavy damage to the shuttle bay and adjoining decks and sectors. She received moderate structural damage up another four decks, with lesser disruption of services for an additional three levels. We've repaired and verified integrity of the primary and secondary hulls." "The shuttle bay. Moira said that's where I was." "Aye. You were, though none of us knew it at first." Lines barely noticeable only days ago now etched themselves more deeply into Wulfe's fiercely handsome face. Cat's heart grieved for him, and all the others affected by the Mallochon's attack. The need to avenge their latest murders and acts of violence went from simmer to full boil in her. Once the children were safe, nothing and no one would deter her Chapter 5

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from her chosen mission: stop the Mallochons from dominating the entire sector. "How many people did we lose, Commander?" "Twenty−one total, most of whom were on the shuttles. At final count, over a hundred crew members suffered varying degrees of injuries, although most are fit for duty at this time." Wulfe's right fist clenched so tightly the tendons on the back of his hand stood out. "Memorial services?" "Taken care of, Sir, along with the condolence messages." She'd completed both tasks herself after Wheeler saw fit to walk away from her and ignore the need to tend his own duties. Or perhaps he simply hadn't been able to face the somber responsibility. Whatever the reason, she couldn't leave the onerous job to Wulfe, not after what he'd already been through. "Rotten way to begin your tour as my first officer." A minuscule sense of relief washed over her. This might work yet. She refocused on Wulfe's comments. "We'll need to cut the present size of the crew to make room for the new flight teams coming in, and we certainly won't need our normal complement of science personnel." Chapter 5

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"Already done, Captain. The final roster will be ready as soon as I receive identity confirmation of the squadron members assigned to us." Half−truths and partial lies−−every one of them left a sour taste in her mouth. Doubly so, considering to whom she must lie. The need to touch him, to confess her deceptions−−gods, where would she find the strength to get through this? "You seem to have the administrative situation under control, Commander, I'll give you that much." "I believe you will discover my abilities in the hands−on areas acceptable, too, if given the chance. I can meet with you again when you're ready to board the Falchion, if you wish." One word, her heart pleaded, one word and I'll stay here by your side. He remained silent. Cat sent Albright a meaningful glance. "I will need to see your medical logs to finalize one of my reports, Doctor. Do you have a few minutes?" "By all means, Commander." Relieved her plan seemed to be working, Cat's shoulder muscles relaxed a bit once she and Albright left the station's medical section behind, though the tight, burning sensation Chapter 5

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remained. Still, a part of her resented the success, made her almost wish Wulfe had caught her in the untruths. But he didn't know her well enough now. Her heart gave a painful squeeze. He seemed so...distant. Duty would distract her from the pain, and so much needed to be done. Time to harness the efforts of others. People like Seleen from communication and tactical. Transport Chief Frank Ellery. She said as much to Nora, who agreed wholeheartedly. "Commander Culver?" Cat groaned inwardly at the sound of Wheeler's keyed−up voice, and her stomach tightened into yet another knot. She thought she'd seen the last of him. Albright snapped to attention beside her. Cat stopped short, too, when she noticed the new captain's insignia on his comm tag. "Captain Wheeler. I thought the Orion was scheduled for departure." "She will be, Commander Culver, as soon as we've completed some crew transfers. Lot of that happening." Sarcasm tinged the statement. "Yes, there is. We must all adapt." "I also need to see Fallon and reassure her before we go. I wanted to say goodbye to the doctor and to thank you, Commander." "Thank me?" Cat had fully expected Wheeler to be furious. Chapter 5

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"Of course." Wheeler bestowed a high−powered smile on her. "Rumor tells me Corps Command intended to give me only a lateral transfer. Rumor also says you're the one who insisted I receive a promotion. Even with war looming on the horizon, captain bars aren't handed out blindly. I'm grateful, though Command gave me a ship less impressive than the Falchion." "Space Corps doesn't have another like the Falchion available. I tried to do the right thing for everyone, Erich." "However you view your input, I wanted you to be aware I knew about your part in the strategy." Oh, to be able to feel Wheeler's emotions instead of trying to guess them. The words might be right, but a certain manic quality lurked in the back of his hazel eyes, the twist of his lips lent a sinister flavor. "Any chance I can see Captain Kincade before I leave?" "No," Cat answered before Albright could. "He's not up to visitors just yet." She tensed for an argument with him. "I'll be certain to give him your regards, though." "I'd appreciate that. Doctor Albright, it's been a great pleasure and honor serving on the same ship with you." Chapter 5

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"As it has been for me," Albright responded. "Good luck, Captain Wheeler." Cat listened as Wheeler effused over Albright, dumbfounded and feeling oddly deflated. She'd expected something less civilized from Wheeler and had girded herself for a nova−sized argument. Creator, without her empathic ability, her instincts were proving to be bloody useless! She had to think of some way to compensate. The women watched Wheeler wend his jaunty way through the chaotic influx of personnel clogging the corridor. "Erich's trying very hard not to swagger over his new rank. It did happen fast." Albright glanced at Cat. "I'm glad he doesn't harbor any animosity about the transfer." "I hope that's true, for everyone's sake." Had she imagined Wheeler's bitterness, or had Nora simply not seen it? "We'll see. If Wheeler even has a hint of what we're trying to do−−" "How could he? Until the transfer orders are completed, only a handful of us know, plus any others you plan to include when you get back to the ship. Even if Erich knew, why would he want to hurt the captain's chances of keeping the Falchion?" "Good question." Cat lost sight of Wheeler's back. Unfortunately, the twinge of apprehension didn't disappear with him. He was up to something. She could feel it in the Chapter 5

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pit of her stomach. "Nora, have you noticed anything odd about Wheeler?" "Recently or historically?" "Either. Both. Seems to me his personality and emotions have been all over the star chart the last few months." "None of our lives have been exactly uneventful lately." "True. How soon will Wulfe be able to go back to the ship?" "The autohealer and the surgihealer have long since repaired the physical damages, so, as soon as Moira finishes the sensors. Sometime in the next hour. Depends how cooperative he is." "Then I'd better get back there myself to double−check the preparations. Lyon's been working like a madman." Cat made a mental note to have Lyon store away an assortment of the Falchion's wreckage in one of the cargo bays. The mess might come in handy for something. She paused, gave the thought consideration. A germ of an idea struggled to take root in the back of her mind, but she didn't have the time to allow the concept to bloom yet. Maybe her subconscious could make something of it. "How are the computer logs coming?" Chapter 5

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Cat shrugged. "I've dumped the new routines into the core and secondary systems. Everything within the outlined parameters will be isolated and either confined or overwritten. Gods, I hope I didn't miss something." She used the short flight back to the ship to marshal her strength for what had to come next. The trip didn't take nearly long enough. Cat took one last look around the sleeping chamber she'd shared with Wulfe. The Creator had blessed them with seven glorious months together in this haven here on the Falchion. She could still feel the deep green− and cream−colored bedding against her skin. She spared a few precious seconds to acknowledge the boon and allow time for the ache in the back of her throat to dissipate a bit. Fallon, bless the Creator, had overseen the removal of all the family's belongings from the quarters, leaving only Wulfe's personal items behind. Cat doubted if she could have completed the task herself without losing control. Next, housekeeping went through the entire suite of rooms. They'd done their job so thoroughly not even a familiar scent lingered in the air. Those seven wonderful months gone, wiped from existence. Her heart writhed with the pain of loss, as though an angry god's fist sought to wring out every drop of the hope and joy created by their time reunited. Chapter 5

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Sadness overwhelmed Cat, cast her into shadowy despair. Even the strength to keep her shoulders squared deserted her. Defeat had never loomed so close. Vacating a ship's living quarters shouldn't be so bloody difficult. She bit her bottom lip to stop its trembling. The unfounded presentiment that she'd eternally forfeit a priceless part of her life haunted her thoughts. She'd felt much the same way when she'd begun the oppressive job of overwriting all the computer files about herself. With a touch of a pad or single voiced word, she deleted herself from Wulfe's life. Erased the continued existence of her beloved parents. Destroyed evidence of her life, of her true self, leaving only shadows and quick glimpses, and even those hid behind prevarication and deceit. Her stomach wrenched with sickness. Sister Fate really believed in twisting people's lives around, didn't she? The curra. "Cat?" She felt Morgan's arms go around her thigh and squeeze. Cat hugged Morgan's shoulders, then placed her hand on the top of the girl's head where it rested near her waist. She stroked the soft sable−colored hair so like Wulfe's. "What are you doing here?" "I'm thinking about Father." "I'd be surprised if you weren't. Doctor Nora is taking good care of him. So is Doctor Chapter 5

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Moira. You know that." "I know." The girl took a shaky breath. "But why can't I see him before Fallon and Garrett and I leave? He'd want to see us." "Morgan, dear heart, we've been through the reasons. He needs to rest. Seeing you or Garrett could...tire your father more than he should be right now. He'll be better soon." "Promise?" Morgan looked up at her with the warm dark−brown eyes she'd inherited from her father. "He's not going to die, is he? I'm scared. Mother died, and you almost did, too." Cat's heart lurched. This poor little girl had been through so much. Too much. First, losing her natural mother, then being shipped off to live with Wulfe, a father she'd never met. Now this. All because of the Mallochons. Again. She went down on her knees next to Morgan, gathered the girl into her arms, rocked her close. "Morgan, I promise you, your father will not die because of what's happened to him. I simply won't allow that to happen." Morgan giggled, buried her face in Cat's neck. "Then I know he won't, 'cause he doesn't like to argue with you." Cat treasured the feel of the girl in her arms. Somehow, she had to return Morgan's Chapter 5

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father to her. "READY TO GO back to the ship, Captain?" "You have no idea." Wulfe 'watched' Albright approach him from the doorway of his recovery room on Uhlein. The specialized sensor implants, strategically placed throughout his body, fed information back to a miniature implanted processing unit. He could tell the size, shape, color, texture, even the temperature of an object. Speed, too, if the targeted item moved. The processed images reminded him of how ancient computer−generated virtual likenesses would have appeared to his forefathers. Albright claimed the system would improve as he adapted. Grateful as he should be for the sensors' capabilities, they could never take the place of organic eyesight. He disliked the bitter thought tainting his attitude. Honor demanded he make the most of the situation Sister Fate handed him. Determined to justify Space Corps's belief in his abilities, Wulfe stood and squared his shoulders. "Flemming must have spearheaded quite an effort to convince the Corps to go along with this," he voiced his thoughts almost absently, not really expecting a response from the doctor. "Command has always accepted the physically challenged, but an Chapter 5

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impaired memory is another saga entirely." "All well and good, Captain, but the Corps and Flemming still would have kept you off active duty for much longer without the assurances and leadership qualities of your w−−" Albright made a noise sounding like a cross between a muffled cough and a suppressed stutter, "−−first officer." "One little commander won't change Corps policy, Doctor." Another muffled sound, this time resembling a choked coughing fit. What, exactly, had Albright so tied into knots? "Sorry. I must have something in my throat, which is better than a foot in my mouth. You might be surprised, Captain. I realize, due to the unusual circumstances, Commander Culver seems a stranger to you, but give her a chance. You won't be sorry to have her on your side. She went to the bulkhead for you." "The gods deliver me from a walking, talking piece of salvation." A quick feeling of deja vu rippled through Wulfe, as though he'd heard−−no, as if he'd said−−similar words once before. "I want to board the Falchion. Now." "Let's go." Albright accompanied him to his office aboard the Falchion and kept up a running monologue of inane subjects. Once they started the journey from the Falchion's Chapter 5

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shuttle bay to his office, she turned serious. "Command doesn't know about your amnesia." "Say again." Wulfe stopped in the corridor, certain he'd heard wrong. "It was an intentional oversight on Admiral Flemming's part. He enlisted and received Commander Culver's full cooperation." Wulfe mulled over the implications until they entered his office. "As of the moment you told me about the deception, you officially became part of the conspiracy, too." Albright brushed aside his warning and breezed out the doorway. Just when he believed he understood Earthers. He posted a message to Commander Culver ordering her to report to him as soon as her duties would allow. Wulfe sank into the familiar comfort of his office chair. He remembered the sensation well enough, the welcome aroma of aged leather. Comfortable, not too soft. He grimaced, thinking of the proclivity Earthers had for excessive, pampering softness. They embraced comfort to the point of weakness, touted bland ales, drank lifeless coffees, ate overcooked or synthetic meat, sipped weak teas, produced anemic blood and claimed ambivalent emotions too far removed from anything even resembling passion. Bah! Earthers. To think his ancient forefathers−−even if engineered by design−−had sprung and flourished from such feeble stock. Irony at its worst. Chapter 5

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Wulfe shifted in his chair. His hand glided over the smooth, worn area of its arm. He adjusted his position again, remembered the feel of his hand on Catherine's slender, feminine shoulder. So delicate. Fragile enough to shatter in only one of his hands. Foolish thought. As if an Earther like her would ever be in his grasp. Just why had Catherine gone along with Flemming's wild scheme? Did she somehow see a chance for promotion? A court−martial seemed more the case, if she got caught. He cleared his throat. "Computer, service records of Commander Catherine Culver, working backward from current posting." While he waited for the computer's response, he struggled to forget the exotic scent Catherine wore, a fragrance he'd already come to identify with her alone. Accessed. Ready. Wulfe grimaced at the genderless computerized voice. Definitely not sultry or evocative. "Read." Commander Catherine Culver, assigned as second officer of the SCFS Falchion, twelfth month of 3163. Rank of Commander, executive assistant to Commodore Phillips, research and testing, sixth month, 3163. Lieutenant Commander, second in command at Station−− "Stop." She'd been assigned to a commodore? That type of prize assignment didn't come Chapter 5

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along every day. "List service awards, if any, first to most recent." Medallion of Bravery, Mallochon Uprising, 3156. Level Ten Status in Communications, 3157. Level Nine Status in Xenobiology, 3158. Flight Wreath of Excellence, 3159. Membership, Engineering Design Review Board, 3160. Medal of Honor, 3161. League of Unified Worlds Peace Award, 3162. Cluster of Distinction for negotiating−− "Stop." He'd been right. A walking piece of salvation. Did she make the Sacred Desert Sands part, too? "Locate the commander's educational and personal files." Born on Earth, eighth day of the eighth month, 3133. One younger sister. Both parents deceased. Single mother of two, a boy and a girl, father or fathers unknown or unlisted. Graduated top two percent of Space Corps Academy, 3155, with double major in communication and xenobiology, a minor in ship engine design. Recommended for−− "Stop." He had graduated the year before Catherine−−the first Fullblood Bellon ever to attend the academy−−with majors in engineering and the full range of quantum theories. Could he have seen her there? He surely hadn't spoken with her. He would have recalled that magnificent, sultry voice. "Aye, I'd remember." Do you require further information? If so, rephrase. "Hold." Wulfe rested his elbows on the desk, considered all the information provided by Chapter 5

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the computer. A double major and a minor? "Doesn't this female do anything wrong?" Rephrase question. "Any reprimands or disciplinary actions on record?" Demoted from Lieutenant Commander to Lieutenant for insubordination; rank reinstated when superior officer found derelict in duty, 3162. Charged with striking a superior officer, charges dismissed, 3161. Served two months in a Space Corps brig for going AWOL, returned to duty with no further prejudice, 3160. Assigned to sickbay duty as a one month reprimand for−− "AWOL?" Commander Efficiency had gone AWOL? She'd struck a superior officer? A regular little hellcat." Wulfe laughed aloud, throwing his head back in genuine amusement. Rephrase. "Cancel." So the little deli' wasn't the perfect officer she seemed to be. Capable, strong−willed and talented, but a wicked temper reminiscent of his own Bellon roots. Catherine might work out as his executive officer yet, once he took her in hand. A firm lesson here, a solid example there. The first glimmer of anticipation he'd felt since awakening sent a little thrill through his midsection and then, unexpectedly, on down to his groin. He straightened, adjusted his uniform trousers and named the reaction nothing more Chapter 5

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than an anomaly. Wulfe tapped his fingers against the edge of the desk. Gods, but it felt good to be back on his own ship, in his own office. Familiarity that should soothe the roughest edges of restlessness. He needed to do something to cut through the growing disquiet. No matter how much information the computer provided him, he couldn't shake the feeling something was missing. He could always have the audio portions of the logs linked through to his comm tag while he walked. Wulfe pushed away from the desk. Time to inspect his ship, stem to stern, bowels to bridge. Time to see what damage this female had done to his pride and joy during his absence. The gods pity her if she'd overstepped the boundaries.

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Chapter 6 WULFE ALLOWED the processed images of his artificial vision to flood his brain. Upon his return, the trip through the Falchion with Albright helped to acclimate him to the implanted sensors. Now he found himself capable of maintaining his normal gait. No amount of adaptation prepared him for what he found, though. The majority of loose wreckage had either been removed from the Falchion or recycled−−overseen by Commander Efficiency, no doubt. The resulting breaches between decks and gaps in the bulkheads of the cruiser made him realize firsthand how many more people could have died as a result of the Mallochon attack. The Creator had protected hundreds. Blessings among the grief. He searched for a way to use his simmering anger against the Mallochons and not allow the rage to rule him. He took a deep breath to strengthen himself for the work ahead. If Corps Command believed him capable of doing the job−−whether or not they knew the entire truth−−he didn't intend to let them down. He'd do his utmost to stop the Mallochons from killing more people, even entire worlds as was their wont. He wouldn't disappoint the first Space Corps officer who accepted him Chapter 6

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unconditionally−−Roy Flemming. Roy wouldn't have to question his choice to take a green Bellon ensign and teach him the realities of life in the Space Corps so many years ago. The good and the harsh. Nor would the old admiral have reason to doubt his decision to leave him as captain of the Falchion now. Wulfe strode further along the corridor to the next section, yet another scientific research sector turned over to warfare preparations. Three figures moved toward him around the interior curve of the ship's corridor. Pieces of memory merged with artificial likenesses until he recognized the largest individual as Mykal Lyon. A shorter, lean−bodied form mobilized by precise, economical movements belonged to Nora Albright. The third, little more than child height, trim and graceful, held no familiarity for him. His mind remained a blank, but his body−− The exotic, arousing scent reached him on the corridor's air currents. Reaction, hard and savage, blasted through his body, shocked him with its intensity. Simply from Catherine's perfume. Gods, he'd been without a woman too long. "Good to have you aboard, Captain." Lyon's words, typically short and to the point, reached him first. "I believe you wanted me, Captain?" Catherine's husky voice caught his immediate Chapter 6

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attention. Yes! his body screamed of its own accord. Wulfe snapped his mouth shut to trap the response he'd nearly spoken so thoughtlessly. The little Earther wouldn't appreciate ribald Bellon humor. Nargging wonderful; now he even had to monitor his words in front of his own first officer. "Ah, yes, the message that I needed to see you. I studied the ship's logs from the last day or so. You've done a decent job." Her left brow arched upward. "I'm glad you agree with the decisions I've made." "I didn't say that, Commander." Too sure of herself. "Any choice in particular with which you don't concur?" A grin tugged at the corner of Wulfe's mouth when one of his sensors told him Catherine's temperature rose a couple of degrees. Temper, temper. Her increased body heat intensified the erotic scent of the perfume she wore. "You arranged to have the male and female pilots bunked in separate quarters, for one." "Aye, I did, Captain." "Bellon warriors house with their comrades." "I know, but they're part of Space Corps now, aren't they?" "True, but−−" Chapter 6

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"The refitting is nearly done. To change the plans at this point would only put us behind schedule." Wulfe gritted his teeth. She seemed to have an answer for everything. "The schedule is the second area of disagreement." "Oh, really." Her eyebrow went a fraction higher. "Why?" "The pilots, tech crews and fighters should never have been dispatched until the fighter bay had been completed." "I disagree. I've made arrangements with Uhlein to temporarily berth those we can't accommodate immediately. The full squadron won't be flying at the same time for a few days." "Why the narg not?" Catherine crossed her arms over her upper body, the movement fluid and somehow...familiar. "I have a few surprises ready for those poor, unsuspecting pilots you're so worried about." "Commander, trust me when I say those pilots will have more than a few eye openers in store for you." "Nothing those Bellons can do will shock me, Captain." Chapter 6

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"You don't comprehend what an entire squadron of Bellons can be like." Must she be so obstinate? So defiant? "You don't understand what I can be like, Captain." "I'm beginning to believe that." "Didn't I say you'd be your old self before you knew it, Captain?" Albright interrupted, projecting a forced, typically Earther cheerfulness no doubt meant to be encouraging. Instead, her enthusiasm sent a twinge right through the side of his skull. "And just when is that likely to happen, Doctor? Have you determined when I will see again?" Catherine moved lightning−fast, surprising him by being brave enough to confront him. She stood so close he'd trample her if he so much as moved any other direction but backward, something he flat−out refused to do. Honor would not allow him to retreat, especially before such a little−−little snip of an Earther. A female Earther, at that. "Maybe you'll regain your vision when you're done feeling sorry for yourself," Catherine accused. She poked him in the middle of his chest with a stiff forefinger. "Grieve for the families who lost loved ones or friends during the attack, but do not lament your own loss. You bloody well would not abide such self−pity from any other crew member on this ship." Chapter 6

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Catherine sidestepped and moved past him like a tiny but powerful whirlwind. As she disappeared around the corridor's curve, the long, thick braid of hair swung against the back of her knees. He heard her mutter, "Bloody damn fool." Wulfe let out a low whistle. "Now that is a hot temper." "Um, Captain, I'm sure Catherine didn't mean that the way it sounded. I−−" Wulfe shook his head. "I hope she did, Doctor. She's right. I wouldn't tolerate such behavior from others." "The commander has been carrying a massive workload, Captain," Lyon added with a note of defensiveness. "And doing so quite well, from what I've been able to ascertain. Relax. I don't plan on jettisoning her out an airlock. Not yet, anyway. And what about you, Mykal? You've been working hard, yourself." "Duty has definitely taken priority lately." "We could probably both use an exercise session. I doubt sleep is in the near future for either of us." His Bellon need to relieve stress with strenuous physical exertion had surfaced the moment he'd awakened. Once the flight crews arrived, he'd have a new assortment of combat partners. Wulfe looked forward to that, but he'd rely upon the able Chapter 6

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Lyon for now. Albright slapped her palms together. "That is the perfect prescription for both of you. Only wish I had thought of it." "Captain, allow me a quarter of an hour, and I will meet you in the arboretum," Lyon suggested. "Done. Doctor, I have an assignment for you." Wulfe waited until Lyon left before continuing. "Your finesse is required." "Of course, Captain." "Have a talk with Commander Culver. Explain to her that while I know the females of Earth have the tendency to wear artificial scent−−do not take this personally, Doctor−−I sincerely believe wearing perfume when we're within a sword stroke of entering war is...unnecessary and distracting." Distracting? What a nargging understatement. The scent triggered ancient, driving reactions in his body and mind better left alone. Now, if he ever found a Bellon female whose body created that scent naturally...Creator, he'd lock the bonding chains around her so fast.... "Perfume?" Chapter 6

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"Is the duty too difficult for you, Doctor?" "What? No, Sir! Not at all. I'll see to the matter before I retire for the evening." THWARTED AGAIN by her fruitless efforts to recreate the bond with Garrett, Cat sighed. She finally forced herself to accept the inevitability of sending the children away before she accomplished the link. She'd hoped to reconnect with Garrett before then, but the safety of the little ones remained a priority. Once Garrett and Morgan settled in for the night, Cat used a secured communication channel to insure her sister's help regarding moving the children to safety. After receiving a brief explanation of what had happened, Cass promised to come to Uhlein for Garrett and Morgan. A wave of sadness and resentful self−pity wound through Cat. She recognized the feelings for what they were, but, damn, she had to get a grip on her emotions. Or, at the very least, her outward responses. She'd allowed her anger at the Mallochons and the crisis they'd created to rule her reactions. Her words to Wulfe in the corridor could have done irreparable harm, and she would not allow that to happen. It hadn't been enough for the Mallochons to try to kill her, or to actually succeed in Chapter 6

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kidnapping her parents. Now they'd endangered her husband and children. And, not content with the worlds their malevolent Imperium already controlled or annihilated, they kept reaching out for more planets to crush, more people to destroy. Well, she'd do her part to stop the Mallochons, any way she could. To that end, Cat turned her mental energies to work on the problem Space Corps labored to solve: find or duplicate a suitable source of fuel for the newly engineered shrouding devices. Several months before, Covert Ops found a crashed Mallochon ship. Unknown to the Mallochons or even the main section of Space Corps, Covert retrieved the shrouding device. First, Covert reverse engineered the one taken from the Mallochons and produced more devices. Then they secretly fitted the equipment to Cass's ship, mainly because the Moon Maiden was the right size and mass, but also because Cass could keep a secret better than a tight−lipped Syllogian. Two remaining problems stymied that path of experimentation. Every time the researchers attempted to replicate the fuel required, the crystalline substance known as plunarium demonstrated itself to be explosively unstable. The obvious solution, natural crystals, proved to be even more elusive than bloodcrystals. No source had yet been Chapter 6

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discovered, though mining engineers had been scrambling for months to find a deposit. A few weeks ago, a Covert Free Agent managed to smuggle a small amount of natural plunarium across the Mallochon border. He came back with enough to operate a small shrouding device with just enough power to shroud Cat's specialized little fighter. The only fighter capable of ghosting that the Corps possessed. If she held on to her sanity long enough, she might be able to use it as an advantage against Malloch. Cat rubbed her tired eyes. They stung and made the screen blur. The muscles in her neck and shoulders cramped and burned with fatigue. "Computer off." Work didn't tire her body half as much as emotions exhausted her spirit. Cat glanced at her journal on the desk, picked up the comforting book that tied her to past generations of Bellon women, her mother, grandmother and on back through the ages. Although she'd chronicled the highs and lows of her life within its pages, she'd been unable to write anything since the Mallochon attack on the crew's shuttle and the Falchion. Maybe if she could sense someone's−−anyone's−−emotions again, she wouldn't feel so isolated. The soft door chime pulled Cat from her dark contemplation. Briefly, she considered Chapter 6

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ignoring the summons, then realized not too many crew members would bother her with something trivial. "Enter at your own risk," Cat called out. The door panels slid apart, but no one stood in sight. "Anybody there?" Albright poked her head around the edge of the doorway, her blue eyes showing signs of mischief. "Will I be safe inside?" Cat gave her a weak smile, the best she could muster. "Safer than anybody else would be right now." "Good." Albright entered, one hand hidden behind her back. She noticed the journal. "Taking a trip down memory lane?" "No. Can't face the memories−−good or bad−−yet." Cat set the book down on the wood−grained desk. The wulfenite crystal, nestled within its gold mounting set into the front of the antique cover, glinted in the light. Albright ran a finger over the golden crystal's faceting. "I can remember when you had Morgan convinced this stone carried all your happy memories. She believed the wulfenite−−excuse me, the memory stone−−would reinforce your desire to live. A child's belief system can be so idealistic, almost magical." Chapter 6

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"Maybe. Think about it, though. Around the time Morgan brought the memory stone to sickbay, my healing rhapsody really kicked in and you started to think I had a chance to recover." Albright chewed on her bottom lip, a look of consternation on her face. "That's true, but it's only a Bellon myth, right?" "Perhaps." Cat smiled, leaned around to the doctor's side. "You hiding something back there I should know about?" "Oh." Albright laughed, moving her other hand into sight. "I bring an offering." She held up a garnet−colored bottle and two glasses. "For medicinal purposes only, of course." Cat eyed the heavy glass bottle, then Albright, as the doctor poured two healthy portions into the snifters she'd brought with her. The potent aroma of aged Bellon liquor wafted through the room. "Do you know what that is, Nora?" "You bet. I did a little research−−courtesy of Mykal Lyon−−and discovered that wildfire brandy is one of the few alcoholic beverages known to sentient beings that can really set you Bellons on your keisters." "If we drink it in sufficient quantity, which is a good amount. I needn't remind you we metabolize alcohol a bit differently than Earthers. Nursing mothers even manage to keep Chapter 6

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from passing it on to their babes." "But it does manage to pin back your ears on occasion?" "It's been known to." Cat grinned. "I'll have to take you to a Bellon bonding ceremony or a victory celebration sometime." "Ooh, I'd love it. Maybe I should have given some of this magic elixir to the captain to soothe his prickly mood." "What do you mean? What about Wulfe?" The doctor shrugged peevishly then sighed. "I've been over and over his medical records−−sideways, backwards, you name it−−all with an eye to anything out of the ordinary. Can't find a damn thing physically wrong. I'm beginning to wonder...maybe he saw something...oh, forget it." Albright handed Cat a glass. "Here's to you." "Hold it!" What could Wulfe have seen that would so effectively wipe everything from his mind? "What are you talking about?" "Grasping at stars, I guess. I dislike not knowing the answers, especially about something like this. I'm frustrated because I can't solve the problem." "Frustration I understand. Wait! Nora, have you ever had any of this brandy before?" "Nope, but I'm looking forward to the taste experience." Albright leaned toward her and Chapter 6

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sniffed. "Didn't think so." "Didn't think what?" Cat decided to bide her time, allow the brandy to loosen Albright's tongue. Then she'd pull the information about Wulfe from her. "You don't wear perfume." "No, I don't." "Anything scented?" "I use bath oils, light ones, sometimes, when I manage to find time for a soak instead of a sonic shower, which seems to be a cycle or more ago. Why?" "Not important." "It was important enough for you to mention." One corner of Albright's mouth twisted upward into a moue of impatience. "The captain said something about your perfume." Goose bumps swept across Cat's skin. "Of all the bloody, incompetent−−how could I miss that detail?" "What detail?" "Mated Bellons−−when they're bonded−−know one another by scent. In the dark. Across the kilometers." Chapter 6

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"A pheromone thing?" "Precisely, and only the couple can detect each other's scent in that particular way." "Ah−ha! Then, subconsciously, the captain does remember you! We only have to bring the memory to the surface." "Only, she says." "Here. Bottoms up." "Nora, do yourself a really big favor. Take a very small, very slow sip. Wildfire brandy is potent." Albright shrugged, took a quick, deliberate taste and swallowed. "That's not so−−good God! My stomach's on fire!" "Hence the name." Cat tossed back a mouthful of her own, welcomed the heat exploding in her midsection; oh, she should have eaten something. Sparkling light and bright colors burst onto her inner eyelids when she closed her eyes for a second. Definitely not a replicated product; this was the real thing. "Good year." "Catherine, I think this stuff has blinded me!" Albright's blue eyes streamed with reflexive tears as she gasped for air. "Give it a few seconds. The flashing lights will stop." Chapter 6

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"It's supposed to do this? You intentionally do this to yourselves? No wonder Bellons are so hot−tempered! I think I'm beginning to understand quite a few things." Albright tried another experimental taste, this one much smaller, but she coughed and sputtered, nonetheless. Cat nodded, sipped and waited. In ten minutes, Nora would be giggling and nearly incoherent like any other Earther under the influence of wildfire brandy, and in twenty, be passed out. She'd have to get Nora to talk in that window of time. Then, once the doctor fell asleep, Cat planned to get back to work. "Sheesh," Albright slurred right on schedule. "Glad I didn' share any o' thish stuff with Lyon and the cap'ain 'fore they went to exershise." Albright broke into peals of laughter. "They'd never find eash other wi' their fal−−falk−−um, their swordy things. 'Course, jus' maybe, th' alca−−alca−−the brandy−−would make th' cap'ain fo'get about what he doesn' wanna see an' 'member, an' then he'd jus' 'member." Make the captain forget about what he doesn't want to see and remember? If she followed Albright's convoluted, alcohol−impaired thinking, the doctor suspected Wulfe intentionally blocked something. What in the Underworld had Nora believing that now? And what could it be? One way to find out. Chapter 6

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"Why do you say that, Nora? No! Don't drink anymore! Pay attention! What doesn't Wulfe want to remember?" Blast! She couldn't make sense of Albright's garbled monologue. "I'm sure you're right," she soothed Nora, then helped her sink down onto the ecru lounger. "Can you tell me anything more about the captain's condition? Don't go to sleep yet! What do you think is happening?" Albright snored her answer. "Blast!" Cat poured herself another dose of 'medicine' and headed for her bedroom. She changed into a set of Bellon leathers−−the ivory−colored set Wulfe had chosen for her−−to the accompaniment of the doctor's not−so−gentle snoring. Cat slid her falchion from its sheath, inspected the edge, resheathed the blade. Yes; exactly what the doctor had ordered in this case. Before leaving her quarters, she stopped long enough in the common area to drape a soft, apricot−colored throw over Nora's slumbering form. She stoppered the bottle and locked the brandy away from the eager, foolish hands of children and Earthers. Minutes later, Cat made her way along one of the secondary paths in the ship's arboretum. She followed the sound of metal clashing against metal, spoken suggestions and Chapter 6

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muttered curses that led her to where Lyon and Wulfe wielded their falchions. Cat found a low−slung branch of a satin−barked tree, swung up to the limb and made herself comfortable. Shielded behind a profusion of aromatic gray−green leaves, she treated herself to the commanding sight of her husband dressed in his dark leathers, the magnificent body strong and virile. The powerful bare arms that held her with such protective vitality. The well−muscled chest covered with short dark curls. Long, wavy hair tied back with a thong. The air currents brought his musky man−scent to her. Automatically, her mind reached out, strived to reconnect with Wulfe. Nothing but blank walls. She couldn't fight her way through or vault over the obstacle. Hopeful expectation turned to bitter frustration and renewed anger. "That's it, Captain. Follow the sounds," Lyon urged. Cat noted Wulfe had deactivated the sensor system he now used for sight, the small pulsing light normally seen at his right temple gone dark. Evidently, Wulfe had decided to remaster the art of falchion defense without the advantage of vision. If anyone could do so, he could, she thought proudly. At the very least, the exercise would sharpen his other senses beyond their normal acuteness. Chapter 6

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Wulfe lunged with his sword, barely missed Lyon. Lyon retaliated with a thrust of his own. Wulfe managed to parry, though clumsily for him. Lyon didn't push his obvious advantage. Cat frowned when the chief of security sidestepped and dragged one foot across the ground. Lyon intentionally gave Wulfe the added sensory input by making the noise! She couldn't stand to see anyone, even Mykal Lyon, take pity on Wulfe. She'd put this right, treat him like a warrior instead of some helpless child who had yet to undergo his initiation rites. Wulfe swivelled after Lyon, following his opponent's movement by sound. He managed better than ninety−nine men out of a hundred would have under the same circumstances, but.... "Right, Captain. Track by sound. Trust your instincts. Good job," Lyon encouraged. Cat slid out of the tree, so fired up over the situation it was hard to stand still, but she leaned against the trunk with an air of indifference. Determined to provoke Wulfe's sense of honor, she called out, "Not bad for a blind man being led, Captain, but not really good." Both men swung around, surprised by her presence and words. "How long have you been there?" Wulfe demanded. Chapter 6

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"Long enough to see Mykal going easy on you." "I wasn't−−" "Yes, you were, Mykal, even if unintentionally. I'll demonstrate, Captain, if you're willing." "Try me." "As the captain prefers." Cat slid her falchion from the finely−worked sheath nestled against her spine. She motioned Lyon in her direction, indicated a rough circle on the ground, the area of combat. "Captain, Mykal and I will go at it for a bit. Concentrate...listen." She and Lyon went through the standard exercise movements for forty−five or sixty seconds. "Hold," she said. "Captain, could you track our movements?" "For the most part." "Good." Relieved to find Wulfe paying attention, Cat sheathed her blade. "Computer, replay thirty seconds, audio only, of the last combat exercise between Captain Kincade and Lieutenant Lyon." Wulfe tilted his head. He listened with great attention to the sounds, then nodded when the recording finished. "She's right, Mykal. You made excessive noise−−your steps and Chapter 6

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your breathing−−for my benefit. Your technique is different, far more subtle, with Catherine. The way you used to be with me." "I didn't realize I−−" Lieutenant Lyon's comm tag chirped one unique tone. He sheathed his blade. "I have a session with the refitting crew working on the flight deck." "You go on ahead, Mykal. I'll stay and work with the captain." She turned to Wulfe. "That is, if you have no objection, Captain Kincade?" She'd bet every last credit to her name she knew how he'd answer. "It wouldn't be a fair match, Commander." Did she know him, or did she know him? Albright's mumbling about Wulfe not wanting to remember or see echoed in her mind. Did she know him anymore? Maybe the doctor had a point hidden somewhere behind the haze of wildfire brandy, a point that hurt like the devil. But, if her natural scent bothered him... "I quite understand if you feel you're not up to the effort." Lyon turned back, watched with apparent fascination, shook his head and walked away, smothering a fit of laughter. The strong, handsome lines of Wulfe's face went grim and menacing. "That is not what I meant, Commander. The match wouldn't be fair because you wouldn't stand a chance." Chapter 6

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"That sounds like a challenge to me." Cat walked a wide circle around him, smiled when Wulfe pivoted to follow the sound of her voice. With luck, she might get him so involved in the session, he'd remember something−−unless, as Albright seemed to suspect, he didn't want to remember. If nothing else, she'd give him the opportunity to act and react like the warrior she knew him to be. An honorable warrior who couldn't hide from the truth for long. "I accept. What's the wager?" Wulfe clenched his teeth until his jaws ached. He'd teach this little snip of an Earther female her place. She'd learn not to test his patience. "Let's make this really interesting. The winner doesn't have to name his prize until he's won." "Agreed. The victor names her price." The husky voice he'd come to recognize as Catherine's made him feel swathed in rich, expensive satin. Wulfe shook off the seductive sensation, mentally prepared himself for the challenge of sparring with Catherine without doing her serious harm. Not as easy as it sounded, especially when he wanted to teach her a lesson in the process. "How do you wish to begin, Catherine?" "Pretty much the way you and Mykal were doing it, only I won't make the task so easy for you." Chapter 6

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"I see." So sure of herself. "Any words of wisdom you wish to impart before we start?" "Concentrate on the sound of my movements−−those you can detect, anyway. More importantly, envision me. Anticipate my next action. Feel me in your gut. Oh, yes, one more thing; prepare to defend yourself." Well, at least Catherine talked like she knew what she was doing. Talk could be a cheap commodity. "I'll give it my best shot." "I am more than ready for you." Wulfe lunged toward the softly mocking words−−and missed. "Good, but not good enough, Captain." He swung to his left, caught off balance from hearing her words spoken on the same height as his ear. The little wench must have found a boulder to stand on. "You cheat, Commander." "Oh, and a true enemy would treat you fairly? Envision me." Wulfe swung his blade in response to her goading. He fully expected to make her jump in surprise. Now, that he could envision. Instead, Catherine parried his stroke with joint−popping deftness. A second later, the tip of her blade sliced across his chest, the sting−−to his body and to his pride−−accompanied by the sweet, spicy scent of her Chapter 6

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perfume. "Too slow, Captain. Picture me, dammit." Her taunt found its target−−his pride. He spun to the right, crouched to match her lack of height. She blocked his thrust and then had the nerve to rap his knuckles with the hilt of her sword. "You're not bloody trying." Catherine's words, laced with impatience and frustration, slapped at him, at his honor. "Picture me in your mind. Or are you incapable of even that level of control? Bellon warriors do this simple exercise blindfolded before they're old enough for their rites." "Aye." Wulfe set his jaw, pivoted to follow her again. "Don't hold back just because I'm your captain. You might−−" Wulfe anticipated her thrust and evaded her blade−−"regret−−narg!" Her backslash caught him on the neck, just enough to drag the skin. He scrambled to defend himself against her swift attack. Who the narg had taught her that Bellon move? He went at her, moving−−and listening−−with new awareness. "See me," Catherine demanded. Her blade sliced the leather of his vest, assaulted his body, nipped the top layer of skin, taunted him. Chapter 6

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"It's so simple, Wulfe−−" Thrust−−spin. "−−if you try." Swing−−parry. "Your problem−−" Lunge−−evade. "−−is you don't want to see me!" Thrust−−retreat. "You could see me−−" Spin. Wulfe gasped for air. "−−if you bloody well wanted to−−" Stagger−−parry. "−−damn you to the deepest levels! See me, Wulfe!" Between the blows given and received, Wulfe began to visualize her. He envisioned Catherine dressed in curve−caressing leather. The ivory color emphasized the fantasy color of her honey−bronze skin. He imagined a gold−laced copper hairpin slipping loose to allow a wealth of mahogany−colored curls to billow around Catherine. The cloud of red silk Chapter 6

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covered her from the top of her head to the middle of her shapely calves. Her scent came to him, warmed by the strenuous exercise. In his mind's eye, he saw her push the heavy length of hair away from her exotic, beautiful face, whip the thick curls over her shoulder and brace for his next swing. At the last minute, Catherine spun away. The mass of hair swirled around her, crackling with static electricity. The sparks reached for him, danced on the surface of his skin. In this illusion, she came to a quick stop and her gaze met his. The dark amber eyes flashed with green flecks. Wulfe swept an imaginary, exploring glance over her body. His manhood swelled and pounded heavily in immediate response. Catherine smiled. The gesture made her face even more gorgeous and stole the breath from him. "Wulfe?" In his vision, she held stone−still, stared at him. Her falchion wavered ever so slightly and the smile melted away. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," Wulfe answered, gulping in air. "I never before realized how vivid my imagination can be." "What do you see?" Her voice shook on the last word. Without thinking, he described his fantasy vision in detail, right down to the green trim on her ivory leathers. The same vibrant green as the flecks in her eyes. Chapter 6

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Catherine's falchion−−her falchion?−−slipped from her grasp, came to rest on the ground at her feet. Feet encased in soft−grained leather, a perfect match to her leather trousers and vest. Bellon leathers, if he had a drop of Bellon blood in him! Wait a minute. Wulfe shook his head. "This can't be right." With a slow, careful movement, she reached for the comm tag attached to her vest. Catherine watched him follow the movement. She shivered. "Culver to sickbay." 'Moira here,' the Syllogian doctor responded within seconds. "Do you have time to examine the captain?" 'I will make the time. What's happened?' "He can see. By the gods, Moira, he can see me!" Wulfe uttered a soft curse. "What man with a breath of life in him wouldn't want to see you, Cat?" She stared at him, her dark amber eyes gone wide with what looked to be shock. "What did you just say?" Puzzled by her reaction, he thought about what he'd said, relaxed when he found the obvious answer. "I meant no offense. After all, you are not unpleasant to look upon, Commander. Most men would want to see you." Chapter 6

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She shook her head. "What did you call me?" "Oh." Now he truly understood. Earthers could never comprehend the importance of traditional Bellon names. For example, one of his ancestors had commanded a group of soldiers known as Wulfe Squadron, but Earthers wouldn't understand the significance. "Cat would be the Bellon form of your name. I didn't use it as an insult." "That's all, then?" "Why would there be anything more?" Wulfe looked around the clearing, absorbed true−to−life colors and familiar shapes, and appreciated them more than at any other time in his life. By the gods! He really could see! And he owed it all to one defiant little Earther. "Catherine, I−−" "Show your appreciation by reporting to sickbay." For just one moment, he had the eerie feeling she knew him better than he knew himself. \

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Chapter 7 CAT FLIPPED her stiletto, caught it by the hilt, repeated the motion for what must be the five−hundredth time. Moira still held Wulfe captive in her exam room. What in the six levels of the Underworld made the Syllogian take so long? Cat believed in thoroughness as much as the next officer, but Moira defined the process. The door finally opened and Moira emerged. "I'll need a few minutes to correlate data, Commander. Perhaps you'd care to spend that time with the captain? He seems quite jubilant." "Can't imagine why. Sure, I'll keep him company." Cat sheathed the dagger. Her hand shook from a mixture of nervousness and eagerness. Her legs trembled, too, as she walked into the exam room, uncertain of her welcome. Wulfe turned from studying the bio readouts against one wall. His slow smile, sexily familiar, spread across his face. "Commander. I forgot to mention, that's quite an outfit you have on." Devilment flashed in his dark eyes. "From which poor Bellon child did you purloin those leathers?" Cat ran a hand across her hip, down her thigh in a self−conscious gesture. The creamy Chapter 7

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feel of the leather reassured her. "Do these look as though they were made for a child?" "Good point." Wulfe studied her with typical Bellon boldness and grinned. "They look like a child's in length, perhaps, but unless you've made special alterations to conform to your attributes, I'd guess not." Attributes, was it? She'd heard her curves referred to as many things, but 'attributes' ranked as a new one. Still, a slow tingle spread through her body, stoked by the heat in his expression. "I don't know whether to be flattered or flustered." "I don't flatter, Commander, and somehow, I can't see you flustered. Ivory isn't a common color for our leathers, but in this case, the shade and cut perfect the already pleasing image." "They were chosen for me by someone very special." "I can see that." Wulfe laughed. "Literally as well as figuratively. Whoever he is, the man knows what suits you." "Are you so certain a 'he' did the choosing?" "Aye, there's no room in my mind for dispute." His good humor lulled her into a sense of well−being. A false sense, Cat discovered the instant she reached out to him mentally and found nothing with which to connect. The Chapter 7

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failure left the taste of dry ashes in her mouth. "So your vision is completely normal?" "Evidently. Moira plans to remove the sensors and processing unit, so I'm on my own." "Well, that's good news." "Good news we might not be celebrating without your, uh, unique method of instruction. Are you always so direct?" "My technique is effective, is it not?" Cat worked hard to maintain the same bantering tone Wulfe used when all she wanted was to walk into his embrace and stay there. "Commander, you could give lessons." Wulfe looked around the exam room, shook his head. "I dislike being indebted to anyone, but I do owe you for doing your best to restore my sight." His gaze moved over her body, returned to her face. "What may I do for you in return? I would pay my debt in full, whether in hard credits or..." A heat moved through her, so palpable she felt the tendrils coil deep inside and her face flush. Cat considered a plethora of possible responses, chose the one she thought would do the most good. "I claim the right..." Wulfe moved closer, until the fire from his body melded with the fever from hers. "Yes?" His voice deepened, roughened. "What do you claim?" Cat retreated one jerky step, then another, cleared her throat. "...the right to demonstrate Chapter 7

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and prove why I'm the best choice for your first officer." "Ah." He scanned her face, looked into her eyes. "You obviously are not a stranger to Bellon custom any more than you are to our clothing, and you are clever. If you had asked for the opportunity, I may have denied you." "I know. Consider my claim as part of the wager I won." "Won? Commander, we never finished our exercise! But, I agree to your claim. For now. Give me one reason to regret my generosity, and I will deny what has been granted. I won't be easy on you, but I will be fair." "Understood, Captain. I expect nothing else. For now." Cat wheeled around and left sick bay, unwilling to trust herself in his presence any further. She must decide how to treat him now. Breezy and offhand? Direct and official? Neither seemed the right tack. Perhaps a blend. Bah! Unimportant for the moment−−he could see again and that's all that mattered! "YOU CAN'T MAKE me drink that," Cat heard Nora declare. "Oh, God's stars, I've been poisoned." A muffled groan followed on the heels of the doctor's croaked assertion. In her sleeping chamber, Cat grinned to herself, clipped the comm tag to the collar of her clean uniform. Little tingles of excitement coursed through her−−Wulfe's vision had been Chapter 7

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restored! Their lives would return to normal soon. Assuming nothing else crazy happened. Before she walked into the living area of her quarters, she considered her stiletto. No, too Bellon. She felt naked without the traditional dagger, but the family crests−−Burnelle and Kincade interwoven−−worked into its hilt could generate too many awkward questions from Wulfe. She almost danced into the common area of her quarters. Wulfe could see. The turn of events thrilled her. He'd called her Cat−−then went on as if he didn't know her from the First Ones. That thought dampened her enthusiasm. What disaster would today bring? Better to be prepared than to blindly expect progress. She put the thought from her mind. Morgan held a steaming mug of jeela in her hand, offering the brew to Albright. The girl's little foot tapped with impatience while she waited for Albright to accept. "Another life lesson for you, Daughter Morgan." Cat rested a hand on the girl's shoulder. "Doctors are among the worst of patients. Drink the jeela, Nora. I know of only two other remedies for a wildfire hangover." "What's another one," Albright asked, her voice muffled by the blanket she'd pulled over her head. "Because my stomach can't handle that vile Bellon tea." Chapter 7

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"Bellon coffee then, strong and black." "Ugh. Even worse. The third?" Cat glanced at Morgan. "Some other time when young, impressionable minds aren't around." Albright pulled the blanket down and rubbed her forehead. Her eyes squinted against the light. "With a pounder like this? You've got to be kidding. Please tell me you're joking." "I never joke about that. Believe me, it's more fun than drinking some brew. Really gets that blood pumping." Cat finished her own Bellon coffee, then fought a yawn because the stimulant effect hadn't kicked in yet. A few seconds more and, with luck, the jolt would hit. It better. If she didn't manage some bunk time soon, she'd be out on her feet. Albright peered up at her, holding a hand over one eye. "Did you get any sleep last night?" "Not a wink. I've been busy." Who could sleep after what had happened? About the time she'd unwound enough to even consider closing her eyes, Garrett demanded to be fed. Morgan offered the mug again. "Take the tea, Doctor Nora. I have lessons to do this morning and Fallon's waiting for me." Albright took the mug, shuddered after she swallowed a mouthful. "I fail to believe Chapter 7

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poison will counteract poison." Morgan giggled, returned Cat's hug, skipped from the room. Albright tried to focus on Cat. "For not sleeping, you look obscenely healthy this morning. I think I may have to hate you." "Do you good to sweat out the effects of the brandy." Cat sat on the arm of the lounger, swung her feet up to rest on the seat cushion. "Exercise will clear your head. How about it?" "No way. Right now, thinking even makes my hair hurt." Albright forced more of the tea down. With most of the jeela in her stomach now, her red−rimmed eyes finally opened all the way. "The pounding's down to a thud, but I couldn't face any form of exercise and survive." She yawned hugely. "Yuck. Some furred creature died in my mouth. Anything exciting happen overnight?" "Well, let's see. The flight deck is almost completed, which is good, because the pilots should be here in an hour or so. The Mallochons raided another mining camp, this one on Dannon Four." Cat sobered. "The miners got off lucky, I'd say. They reported no deaths, though most have injuries to one degree or another." She looked in the general direction of the large sleeping chamber Fallon shared with Morgan and Garrett, stiffened her spine Chapter 7

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against the quick, sharp wave of desolation. "The children will be leaving for Bellona soon." "Morgan and Garrett are the last to go, right?" "Right. All the other children have been shipped out." Cat kept a close eye on Albright now, waiting for her reaction to the news she'd impart next. "Oh, and Wulfe regained his sight." Albright tried to swallow the last of the cooling tea and speak at the same time, ended up sputtering. "How did that happen? I mean, not that I'm anything but elated, you understand, but how? When?" Cat gave her an abridged version of the combat exercise and its result. Maybe Albright could offer her some insight, once the hangover abated enough for the Earther to think clearly. "And before you ask, no, he hasn't overcome the amnesia yet, but Moira says his vision is once again perfect. I'm thrilled and disappointed, all at the same time." Two understatements in one sentence; a new record. "I don't know if I should jump with joy or curse from frustration." "I can understand that. How's the captain doing now that his vision has been restored?" "Well, apparently, and keeping busy. According to ship logs, he never returned to his Chapter 7

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quarters last night once we sealed our deal." Albright's red−rimmed eyes stretched open. "Deal? What deal? Ooh, I bet this is going to be good." "Not that good. He'll allow me to try my hand with the Bellon pilots." "Excuse me? That was a given, anyway. Some deal. Say, if the captain didn't return to his quarters, what was he doing?" "I believe he spent the time in his office going over the computer logs." "You think he suspects something?" Cat shrugged, half−hoping he did suspect things weren't right, because an investigation by Wulfe could lead to him remembering. "Hard to say. He's been accessing a diverse spread of information files." "You still have that personal file of yours in the system? The one protected with the nursery rhyme the captain hates so?" "Sure. Why?" "If he remembers something, he could get into it, find out every detail there is about you, the two of you, the children." "If Wulfe remembers enough to repeat that rhyme, he's remembered everything else, too, Chapter 7

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and it won't matter. He barely recalled the words when my very life depended on it a few months ago! If Wulfe hadn't pulled that verse out of his memory so he could access my files, you never would have found my medical data." "Don't remind me. We damn near lost you." Albright threw the blanket aside and sat up in a determined motion. She groaned and clutched her forehead. "Oh, boy, was that stupid. Word to the unsuspecting: No sudden moves when you have a wildfire hangover." "Nora, I think you might be right." "I know I am. No quick moves. Oh. I'm right about what?" "I'm−−it's possible Wulfe doesn't want to remember me or the children. I've been asking myself if that's conceivable. Nora, do you really think Wulfe didn't want to see?" The question nearly ripped out her heart. "Oh, stars. When did I say something so stupid? Last night? Remind me not to touch that devil's poison again, will you?" She pushed fingers through her matted hair. "I don't know, Catherine. I'd like to think not, but all I can say for certain is neither Moira nor I could find a physical reason for the blindness." "Do you think it's the same with his memory?" "Anything's pos−−give me one good reason Captain Kincade wouldn't want to remember Chapter 7

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you or the children!" "How do you want the reasons indexed, Nora? How about randomly? He regrets not taking a Fullblood as his mate. I didn't tell him Danelle had his child. Think about poor Morgan. I'm the reason that demented Mallochon murdered Danelle. She mistook Danelle for me." "Catherine, you're not at fault." "It sure feels like I am sometimes. Need some more? I'm still a member of the Covert Corps, despite Wulfe's objections. Maybe he regrets the fact that I birthed his son." "You know that is ridiculous! Ouch. Please don't make me yell−−it hurts my head too much." "Perhaps now that he has a son, Wulfe has decided he doesn't need me anymore. Face it, I'm the least traditional Bellon female the Sweet Creator ever made. I refuse to back down from him. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside, Wulfe still blames me for the death of his first son." Every reason she listed filled her with cold dread. Fear and self−doubt held amazing power. "I don't believe any of this. That first baby would have died no matter what anyone did, or didn't do. You've gone too long without a good, sound sleep, so you're not thinking Chapter 7

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rationally." "I hope that's all it is," Cat choked out, "because I'm starting to get scared." Terrified, she amended. Unfounded fears could be another sign she'd lost a tight grip on reasoning. Without the strength and reassurance of their now nonexistent bonding link, she slipped closer to the edge of madness. It approached her on stealthy little feet, but her inability to remain focused and her emotional weakness only confirmed her fears. WULFE STOOD on the upper level of the Falchion's new flight deck and watched the squadron of flight crews file in. Watched them, by the gods, courtesy of Catherine. When Moira removed the sensors, he'd had the wildest urge to kiss the physician. The Syllogian doctor would have been mortified. He sure as narg should have kissed Catherine when he had the chance. Wulfe considered the newest members of his crew to arrive as they lined up below. Fullbloods with rebellion in their hearts. Halfbloods with attitude. Bellon descendants with a point to prove. Lyon could hold his own with the flight crews, but this group would chew up Catherine and spit her out in little bloody pieces. He supposed he'd have to be the one to protect her, considering she'd been the one to Chapter 7

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somehow spark the return of his vision. He'd promised her the chance to work with the pilots, and he'd give her that. Then, when she failed, Catherine would have no one to blame. Lyon walked down the rows of pilots and flight technicians, stopping here and there to ask a question or make a comment. Each member of the squadron stood at parade rest. The ones addressed by Lyon responded with guarded civility. As expected, Lyon needed to earn their total respect. The lower level side entry opposite Wulfe's vantage point whooshed open. Catherine stepped into the flight bay, paused for a few seconds. Her gaze swept down the columns of squadron members. She crossed the deck, her steps firm, unhurried, the light impact of her boots on the deck plates the only sound. The teal and gray of her Corps uniform drew Wulfe's attention. No standard issue there; top and bottom both had been tailored to perfection. The material made love to Catherine's lithe little body with every move she made. First damn time he could remember envying a piece of cloth. Wulfe leaned a shoulder against the nearest reinforcement strut, prepared to watch the show in comfort. As close as he could get to comfort for the moment, at any rate. His body Chapter 7

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had come to painful attention since Catherine's arrival. He'd give his first officer five minutes−−long enough for him to regain control. Then when she found herself in over her head and at the mercy of a mob of Bellon warriors, he'd step in and put things right, save Catherine from them and herself. As a result, she'd step down of her own accord, and he could put someone−−probably Lyon−−in as his first officer. The Bellon flight crews needed a Bellon leader. Riordan, besides being another Earther, didn't have the necessary experience with a flight crew. Lyon snapped Catherine a salute then faced the rows of new crew members. "This is Commander Culver, first officer of the Falchion. The commander will oversee the last stages of your training in the new Class IX two−man fighters." "Why her instead of you?" an unidentified female voice demanded, her reluctance to accept an Earther overtly clear. Lyon started to swing around, a look of outraged anger on his face. Catherine moved her left hand the slightest bit. The tight little motion stopped Lyon where he stood. Impressed, Wulfe straightened away from the strut, waited to see what would happen next. The little byplay between Catherine and Lyon chafed his leathers for no apparent reason. Clearly, the flight crews had noticed the silent communication, too. Chapter 7

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Catherine zeroed in on the pilot who had dared to ask the question and walked all the way around the Bellon. She looked the mouthy female up and down. For an insane second, Wulfe was heartily pleased not to be on the receiving end of his first officer's scrutiny. Catherine completed the inspection. Her left eyebrow slanted upward, she faced the pilot. "Because I'm the best Class IX pilot you're likely to find. Because I finalized the design on the Class IXs. Because I'm the first officer of this ship." Catherine leaned in close and her voice took on an ominous edge. "Because I said so." Wulfe observed, fascinated and surprised. She'd used impeccable Bellon reasoning to make her point without a hint of hesitancy. She was the superior officer, period, second only to the captain of the ship and unwilling to take any guff from a lowly pilot. As Bellons, they would understand or not make the cut. Catherine helped design the fighters? Why hadn't he known that? He probably had, once. Catherine hadn't broken eye contact with the pilot yet, and showed no signs of backing down. "Any more questions?" The pilot looked away first. "Ma'am, no Ma'am." "Good. You might live through the final training period after all, Pilot, which would greatly please the Corps." Catherine exchanged comments with many of the new crewmen. Chapter 7

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She listened with interest and responded with honesty to all of them, then finished up. "You all have one hour to find your quarters, unpack and report back here. Dismissed." So much for saving Catherine from herself. Wulfe stroked his beard as he reevaluated the situation. Catherine understood Bellons even more clearly than he'd thought. How she'd come by that knowledge he didn't know, but he would need to watch himself closely around her. Wulfe grinned. The stakes had just gone up. She'd passed the first test and would stay as his exec, if she managed to pass the next trial. He'd need to make the problem tougher. Aye, he loved a challenge, and he hadn't felt this...challenged... since−−he rubbed a spot on his aching head−−he couldn't remember ever being this intrigued. He left the bay and returned to his office. Aye, Catherine intrigued him. His fingers drummed the surface of his desk. Only because she seemed to be a very unusual Earther. Bah. Unusual or not, Wulfe convinced himself in no uncertain terms that any relationship with Catherine−−beyond professional Space Corps business−−was totally out of the realm of possibility. He almost managed to believe that a professional relationship didn't interest him either. After all, he preferred people he knew and could relate to, people Chapter 7

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who contained no surprises, and Catherine had more than a few of those. Even in his strangest imaginings, he couldn't see himself with an Earther. Although...Catherine possessed more fire and passion in her sensual little−−fragile little−−body than some Bellon warriors he could name. Damn. He didn't have the answers. Catherine seemed unaware of her own courage−−she'd needed a full supply to face down the Bellon flight crews, whether she knew it or not−−but managed to nurture confidence in others with well−chosen words of honest encouragement and approval. On top of that, he'd witnessed Lyon's devotion to her. How deep did that loyalty run? Interesting that a Bellon would demonstrate such. Did Catherine return that esteem? Appearances said a resounding yes. An empty feeling in the pit of his stomach took him by surprise. Idly, he wondered how an Earther male would go about claiming a female such as Catherine. "Computer, access Earther customs regarding claiming a mate." Suitor bestows object of desire with gifts such as flowers, favorite foods, jewelry or finery. Bribery! A shameful, dishonorable practice. Suitor bestows parental or guardian units with a mate−price. Chapter 7

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Might as well buy a slave. Parental or guardian units give the suitor's parental or guardian units agreed upon amount of credits or goods. The parents paid someone to take their own daughter? Barbaric. "Stop. Suggested activities before claiming a mate." A walk upon the beach. A stroll through a forest. "Stop." Did no man challenge his chosen? Test her courage, her ability to protect his children in his absence? Did they not demand a vow of allegiance from the female? Did they not simply take that which they desired? No wonder the weak Earthers seldom mated for life−−they grew bored and disillusioned. "Continue." Meals are eaten together. Discussions about the arts, philosophies, current events, religion. "Stop." Talk, talk and more talk. Exchange of credits and goods. Bah! Imagine trying to buy loyalty! Bless the Creator, Bellons needn't endure such pitiable attempts. The thought that Lyon carried half Earther blood along with the Bellon half suddenly infuriated him. With a growl of disgust and frustration, Wulfe kicked his chair out of the way and stalked from his office, aiming to ease the tension building in him. Physical release, as all Chapter 7

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Bellons needed, the drive engineered into them. Powerful, sometimes violent release. In this case, the gym would have to suffice. A deserted gym, a blessing from the Creator. He needed a woman. The gods knew he didn't want a woman−−too much of a distraction−−but he needed one. The Falchion had been and always would be the only lady he needed. Except, the Falchion had somehow misplaced some of her legendary charm. Wulfe drove his fists into the punching bag. Bam−bam! He resented the physical demands surging over him. Thud−−THUD−−thud. Though not unfamiliar to a warrior, this desire boiled through his body, hotter than anything in his memory. Wulfe laughed mirthlessly. What memory? Thwack−thwack. The sound of each blow seemed to echo a name. Frustration rumbled deep inside. Whack−−Cat−−whack. "Nasty left hook you have there." Wulfe wiped the sweat away from his eyes with a forearm before he turned to face the owner of the sweet, throaty voice. Her body, clad in exercise gear leaving too little to his hot imagination, made him suck in a deep breath. Catherine watched him with observant Chapter 7

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amber eyes. She continued a series of arm curls with the free weight in her hand. Wulfe took a closer look, surprised by the actual weight of the bell she used. "That left hook will be a killer once you've recovered completely. The right cross isn't bad, either, considering." "Doctor Albright seems to think I have recovered." "She hasn't sparred with you." "I couldn't see when we began our exercise last night, Commander. Now I can." Wulfe gestured to the punching bag. "What am I doing that makes you think I'm not recovered?" "Your timing's off. The rhythm of your body isn't...as warrior−smooth as it should be." "Oh, and you know the rhythm of my body that well, Catherine?" The thought heated him like a rampaging fever. His mouth went dry when he wondered if she'd be the remedy. She met his eyes unflinchingly, a silent provocation, still doing her reps. "Yes." Amused and curious now, Wulfe challenged her in return. "What else can you tell me about my body?" Catherine flipped the weight into her other hand. Wulfe waited to hear the quick snap of fragile wrist bones, but she began a new series of curls without so much as a wince. "You're frustrated because you need a woman." Chapter 7

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Momentarily stunned, he glanced downward and then grinned. Most Earthers would have ignored the blatant physical signs out of a false sense of propriety. "Not a difficult observation to make, considering the evidence my body's presenting at the moment. Can't you tell me anything less obvious?" Meeting his gaze again, her left eyebrow arched higher. "Sure you want to hear my opinion?" "I think I can handle whatever you have to say." "Not only are you frustrated because you need a woman, you're bloody well angry because you want me." Wulfe forced a laugh out a throat suddenly gone dry. What in the Creator's sweet universe would make her believe that? "You? I have at least a dozen or more females with Bellon blood aboard. Any one of them would willingly enter my bed, and soon may. Why would I want a frail little deli' like you?" The amber of her eyes changed, as if altered by pain or some other distress. Anger perhaps? Outrage? More likely shock. "You want me because I'm the one you know you can't have." He leaned in closer, using his height and bulk to intimidate. "Earther females break in Chapter 7

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the arms of a Bellon." Catherine replaced the weight in the rack, doing so by touch, her gaze still not leaving his. She stepped closer to him, tilted her head back far enough to see his face. "Then you've tried the wrong Earther women, Captain. But, like I said, you can't have me." A growl of anger rose from his chest. "I could have you anytime I decided." To prove his point, Wulfe grabbed Catherine, lifted her to him. The aching, heavy length of his arousal strained to reach her body. He took a deep breath, inhaled the erotic, spicy scent radiating from her. The exotic fragrance did the impossible, made him harder, made him burn hotter for her. He held the female in his grasp, but narg it, she controlled him! "You would die in the trying, barbarian." Catherine whispered the words in her husky voice. Her warm breath caressed his lips, and his mouth opened, seeking contact. The gods help him, something in her voice nearly convinced him he could die, or want to, once he'd tasted her sweetness. Wulfe allowed her to slip down his length. The movement created an agony in his body and an unfathomable, unexplained joy in his heart. "I would not want to die by your hand, my Lady." Catherine's eyes went wide before she briefly−−all too briefly−−favored him with a breath−stealing smile. The merest hint of green flashed in her eyes. She pushed away from Chapter 7

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him. Her hand lingered over his heart for a mere second, a lifetime. "Then mind your manners, Captain." Wulfe watched her leave the gym, fought the ridiculous urge to go after her. That's when the realization rocked through him. The mere fact that he'd wanted Catherine to need his protection back on the flight deck should have been the warning signal to drive the point home. She was the worst type of danger, simply because she'd been right. He desired her, and that hunger for her might cause him to overprotect her at the cost of someone else's life. Catherine also presented the worst kind of danger to him personally. Wulfe reached beneath the neck of his shirt, fingered the bonding chain that proclaimed him to be legally and morally wed. The best he could offer Catherine would be consort status. Hardly something an Earther female would understand, even if some Bellon females would see the position as an honor. Sweet Creator, what was he thinking? He lowered himself to the deck, held his aching head in one hand. He didn't understand, either. Wulfe swallowed dryly. His mate−−whoever and wherever she might be−−−−lived, for he grew no mourning braid. His hair fell to below his shoulder blades all in one length. No matter how he tried, he couldn't put a name or even a face to this phantom mate. Worse Chapter 7

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yet, the only scent that lingered with him belonged to Catherine. Wulfe groaned against the pain stabbing through his skull.

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Chapter 8 CAT BARELY made her way back to her quarters before reaction set in. Her legs shook until she didn't think they'd support her. Guilt and anger raged a war within her, both emotions tarnished with disappointment. Guilt because she'd pushed Wulfe so hard to regain his memory, tried to force him to remember the same way she'd goaded him into seeing again. For an instant, when he'd called her 'my Lady' Cat thought she'd succeeded. He obviously desired her, and that could be a start, if she played it right. Wulfe liked few things better than a challenge. And anger. Anger because she still couldn't connect with him, or even feel his surface emotions. Anger because each passing hour convinced her Wulfe really did remember but had decided to sever his bond with her. She admitted to being insecure enough to wonder if some part of him couldn't accept their union, wouldn't tolerate all the pain and suffering that had gone before. The lost babe. Her defiance of his wishes. She'd be damned if she'd allow him to see the pain that possibility created in her. Bellon honor simply wouldn't allow it. Maybe she should cut her losses, privately admit defeat. Not bloody likely. If she had to choose between quitting and pushing him to Chapter 8

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remember...Cat nodded to herself. Aye; no one but no one, could drive Wulfe Kincade over the edge as thoroughly and as efficiently as she could. Still, her heart ached relentlessly. Her journal lay face down on her desk. Cat reached for the book. She closed her hand into a fist before she could touch the antique diary. No. The pages contained too many memories, good and bad, for her to bear right now. The journal continued to draw her, tempted her with the promise of reassurance. Maybe if she read an entry from her grandmother, the Peacemaker of Bellona, she'd find inspiration for the strength she needed. Weakness or not, Cat reached for the book, turned it over and found the wulfenite gone from its gold mounting. That little scamp Morgan must have taken the crystal, intending to carry it with her when she left the Falchion. Ah, well, let the girl take the memory stone if it gave her a sense of connection, made her feel better about leaving. Cat put the journal down without opening the pages. Gods, if only she had the luxury of giving in to her urges. Scream and kick! Lash out at everyone around her! Make wild, hot love to her husband! Cat took a deep breath. She had to maintain control of herself and the situation. The best way to do that−−keep busy! Mind made up, she changed into her uniform and headed to the fighter bay. Duty would help keep her sane while she edged her husband in the other direction. If the missing Chapter 8

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mental link didn't push the Erosian part of her mind to the terrible extreme. Some moments, she felt as if she already stood at the abyss and watched the grains of sand fall faster and faster from her hand. WULFE STRODE past the lines of fighters, each craft sleek, formidable. Lyon walked to his right, silent and observant. The Avenger. The Sabre. The BlackMagic. He stopped and took a second look at the one in front of him. The Peacemaker? What kind of name was that for a fighter? The same name given to that Bellon female who'd negotiated peace between Bellona and Earth a few generations ago. "Who pilots this fighter?" Lyon, fists clasped behind his back, cleared his throat. "Commander Culver, Sir." "Figures." Wulfe moved closer, drawn to the fighter whether he wanted to be or not. "I want to see the inside." "Sir?" "Problem?" Lyon hesitated only a split second before triggering the remote. A narrow gangway lowered from the fighter. Wulfe climbed the incline. Lyon followed, silent. Wulfe held no doubt Catherine flew the Peacemaker. The pilot's seat and the front half Chapter 8

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of the cockpit had been customized to her tiny body. He wouldn't be able to squeeze into her seat without his knees breaking his jaw and cutting off all circulation, or his legs threatening to crush his...Wulfe pushed that harrowing thought away. The copilot's seat, though not nearly big enough to be comfortable for him, would hold his body with less threat to his pride and joy. He studied the arrangement of one seat behind the other and the instrument arrays. The Peacemaker appeared the same as the others from the outside, sleek enough to fly in the thickest of atmospheres, but Catherine had decreased the overall interior dimensions of her fighter. "Captain." Catherine's throaty voice floated into the cockpit. Wulfe's body tightened, instinctively braced for the reaction her scent always triggered. Despite his determined efforts, her effect on him seemed to be increasing with startling rapidity. He'd have to take her as his consort yet, simply to save his sanity! "I've been meaning to get inside one of these." Wulfe twisted around to see her standing behind Lyon's crouching form. "Well, you're inside now. How does she feel? Tight fit?" Her left eyebrow slanted upward at enough of an angle to irritate him, but not enough to smack of complete insubordination. "Would the captain care for a ride−−uh, a demonstration?" Chapter 8

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Lyon coughed. "Captain, your fighter is still being checked out by the techs, but my Wildchild is ready to roll. I'd be honored to take you for a flight." Catherine's eyebrow lifted a fraction higher. "As the captain prefers, of course." Her nonchalant shrug nearly put Wulfe into orbit without benefit of a craft. Dismiss him, would she? "Since I'm already here, Lyon, the commander can show me what she has to offer." "Uh, Sir..." "This won't be a problem, Lieutenant." Catherine moved past both men and slid into her seat. "Buckle in, Sir. We shouldn't need flight suits for a short run." She slipped restraining straps over her shoulders. Another set automatically sealed across her slim thighs. "Coming, Captain?" She touched the comm control. "Culver to flight control. Peacemaker to launch, tee minus forty−five seconds." 'Initiating preflight sequence.' The lockdowns released and the Peacemaker gave a gentle lurch. Lyon made a quick retreat. The gangway retracted and sealed while Wulfe squeezed himself into the copilot seat. The ship began the short journey to the launch doors. 'Tee minus thirty.' Chapter 8

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"Do you want a standard automatic launch, Captain, or should I control our release manually?" Wulfe squirmed deeper into the seat. The straps locked around him. "Hands on. Show me what you've got, Commander." Catherine laughed richly, as if she knew something he didn't. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours, huh?" 'Tee minus twenty.' Catherine thumbed the communication pad again. "Chief, I'll take control from here. We're going manual." The fingers of her left hand moved in swift, intricate patterns over the control pads. The fighter pivoted, headed toward the launch doors. Catherine's right hand wrapped around the thick joystick, grasping so firmly Wulfe winced in male sympathy, while he watched and imagined with absolute male fascination. Their fighter screamed out of the bay. They flew in clear space five−hundred kilometers from the Falchion before Wulfe's stomach realized they'd left the mother ship. "Narg," Wulfe grunted as he slammed into the resistance of his seat. The straps cutting into his upper thighs tightened even further. Chapter 8

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Catherine pulled an end−for−end flip. Too late, Wulfe realized he should be watching a fixed object−−hard to do with Catherine maneuvering the fighter so daringly. The only thing bouncing harder than his eyeballs was his stomach, and it hit home with a sickening thud that threatened to revolt. "Find your stomach yet, Captain?" "Aye." His frantic gulps and swallows must have given him away. He couldn't have invoked the Creator's name aloud. Catherine ran a caressing hand over the control panel. She twisted her other hand on the joystick, her thumb flicking at two tiny pads on the end. The intimate familiarity made Wulfe's groin muscles tighten and jump. "She really moves, doesn't she, Captain?" Watching her hand, Wulfe cleared his throat and tried not to breathe so heavily. "Definitely." Her tone of prideful ownership sparked a new suspicion. "All the other fighters equipped the same?" "Well, I have, uh, tweaked the Peacemaker a bit here and there. Some minor nonregulation adjustments." "Figures. You plan to show me how she reacts under fire?" Chapter 8

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"Could, if your stomach's up to the maneuvers." "To quote my executive, I'll show you mine..." "Oh, I'll show you, all right." Catherine jabbed the comm pad. "Culver to Falchion. Pipe me through to Lyon." 'Lyon' "Send out the drones." "Hold up," Wulfe ordered. "The drones are targets only. Thought you had something that fired back." 'We do, Captain. I can give you a half dozen shadows.' Catherine cut in. "Mykal, send out a dozen furies." Wulfe heard Lyon's sharp intake of air, quickly followed by Catherine's pointed inquiry. "Problem complying, Lieutenant?" 'No, Ma'am, not at all. A dozen furies, as the commander prefers. Launch in thirty seconds.' Catherine gave Lyon new coordinates well away from the station and any of the surrounding ships. Wulfe waited until the comm channel terminated. "Is there some sort of problem? Why Chapter 8

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doesn't Lyon want to send furies?" "We haven't tested them yet. They have no remote destruct. The only way to stop furies is for the fighter to destroy them, but that's not a problem, Sir." "Don't overtax your abilities on my account, Commander." Catherine thumbed the autocontrol, twisted around in her seat to look at him, her face dead−calm. Only the thin, tender skin around her left eye moved, a fragile twitch revealing her anger. "I'll be piloting and taking out targets while you're still looking for this morning's breakfast. Sir." Shocked, he listened to how easily the words, spoken in perfect Bellonese−−a rare dialect used by the Nomads, at that−−rolled from her tongue, intonation and inflection native−pure. "No problem then, because I didn't eat breakfast, Commander." She flashed him a look, half pique, half amusement, before she turned around to resume control of the fighter. How the narg did she know Bellonese? Few Earthers ever managed more than a handful of syllables. The furies descended and it didn't matter. The Peacemaker and her pilot battled to stay space−worthy and alive. Chapter 8

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Chapter 9 CATHERINE DESTROYED the furies with a calculated efficiency capable of impressing Wulfe even more if he hadn't been so occupied keeping control over his stomach. It rolled and flipped with every quick maneuver of the fighter. Why did he only have this problem when someone else piloted? Albright would give him a ridiculous load of of'al about control issues or some such blather. Leave it to an Earther to complicate things. The mutiny going on in his stomach finally subsided when Catherine took the Peacemaker back to the Falchion and set the fighter into the flight bay with a delicate touch. The woman flew with the skill of a Bellon. Now that he could concentrate on something other than his internal organs, Wulfe had to wonder who'd taught her the language and how to fly. She got up from her seat the second her harness released and leaned a shapely hip against the backrest. Catherine watched him, one of her eyebrows slanted at an insolent angle, while she refastened a bronze clip at the end of her thick braid of hair. "Need some help getting pried out of there, Captain?" Chapter 9

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Wulfe growled out a response barely acceptable in Bellon company, let alone Earther, then a terse, "I can manage." "Suit yourself. Only trying to be friendly." Wulfe glared at her back when she turned away. Friendly! Bah! The woman needed a firm hand. Right now, he'd willingly oblige. One more uppity response from her...he watched the way the Space Corps uniform conformed to her body as she maneuvered her way through the narrow cockpit to the hatch. Catherine's destiny: usher him into complete lust madness. "Argh!" Cat muttered to herself. "Some things never change." Churlishly self−reliant, Wulfe made a point of not accepting help from others. She opened the hatch, itching for the chance to shake some sense of reality into the big oaf, force him into remembering. She and the others sought to preserve Wulfe's sanity with the requisite silence about the relationship between them. If he didn't remember soon, she'd be edged toward the damnation of eternal space madness. One weakness of her Erosian heritage she'd have to live or die by. At this rate, die. Lyon waited for her deckside, an island of sanity in her ever−increasing sphere of chaos. "The captain's conscious?" Chapter 9

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She nodded, still worrying how much Wulfe had noticed about her craft. More than enough, if she knew him at all. She'd probably need to distract him. "How'd the run look from here, Mykal?" Lyon grinned. "I'm impressed, and I knew what to expect. What about the captain? Suitably surprised?" "Maybe his stomach complained too much for him to notice everything, but I'd be shocked if he missed the smaller inner dimensions of the fighter." "Guess we'll find out." Lyon's gaze moved up to a spot behind her. "He seems to be walking okay." A few seconds later, Cat felt Wulfe's presence to her left. The heat generated by his body reached her a heartbeat before his deep voice cut into the conversation. "Think you two can teach the new pilots to fly like that?" Lyon nodded. "That's the goal." Cat stayed silent while she watched five of the newly arrived pilots make their way to the trio of officers. A Halfblood female−−the tall and muscular Blackwood, the mouthy one from the first meeting−−stepped forward first. "I want a shot at the furies, Commander." Chapter 9

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"When you're ready, Blackwood." "Now." Cat spun to face the belligerent pilot. Temper and patience warred to cross the fine, fragile line of her control. "When you and your craft are ready, Pilot. Not a nanosecond before." "My ship is ready, and so am I." Temper crossed the line as victor, but Cat gritted her teeth in an effort to keep her voice level. Lack of sleep and the general chaos continued to push her to the brink of breaking. Too much depended on her, though. Too damn much. "Not anymore, Blackwood. You've just volunteered your ship for the first teardown. No pilot will be fully certified for combat until he or she can take the fighters apart and put them back together." Blackwood glared down at Cat. "I fly. I don't do maintenance and repair. That's why we have techs aboard." "You do maintenance now if you ever want to fly the stars for the Corps. What happens if you get stranded with a damaged craft? Who's going to repair your fighter for you? The Mallochons? Or maybe your arrogance can do the job." Cat ran an appraising gaze over the other four pilots, allowed the sarcasm to sink in. "I'd intended for the squadron to draw lots, Chapter 9

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three at a time working on teardown. Do I have two more volunteers?" Xiang, a Fullblood male, darker than Blackwood, nodded. "First to complete the teardown and rebuild has first shot at the furies, right?" Cat nodded, satisfied. Bellons seldom ignored a challenge. "Unless something else stupid gets in the way." Xiang taunted Blackwood, "I'll be in the air before you figure out how the targeting links connect." A third male, Cervantes, another Fullblood, stepped forward. "Might as well give you the three you need right now, Commander. I wouldn't mind a go at the furies." "You three and your copilots will comprise the first flight squad. I expect you to set the standard for the others. First team done−−and approved by the tech crews−−gets the chance to rotate position as temporary squadron leader. Prove yourselves, you might get to keep the extra stripe on your snappy new tan and burgundy uniforms." Glad the confrontation had ended, Cat eyed Blackwood's stiff back as the pilot strode away with the others. "That's a bomb waiting to go boom. It's going to be loud when it goes." Wulfe whistled softly between his teeth. "Looks like you just made your first Bellon Chapter 9

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enemy, Commander." Cat shrugged, too tired and depressed to even care. "Blackwood's not the first. She bloody well won't be the last." "I'll keep an eye on her, Commander," Lyon said quietly. Cat sighed. "She'll have to come around on her own, Mykal." WULFE CARRIED his tankard across the officers' mess. The aromas of exotic foods from an array of worlds encompassed him, sweet and spicy, strange and homey. He even detected the unique smell of bresk't stew, an occurrence reflecting the extra Bellons aboard. He sat across from Catherine at the secluded game table where she studied a holographic projection coloring the white bulkhead next to her. The image contained four separate lists of names: planets, space stations, two different series of ships' names with their home registries. Each entry contained a date. Wulfe took a deep swallow of Bellon ale, savored the familiar bite while he waited for Catherine to speak. She looked tired. He wondered how much time had passed since she'd actually slept. With a body so delicate, she'd need adequate rest. When she only glanced at him with one brow arched in question, he took it upon himself to begin the conversation. Chapter 9

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"Looks like you have more than the usual on your mind." "What, exactly, would be usual?" She toyed with a dark rook from the chessboard set up between them, let the piece settle back into its original place. "Did you see the report about the Mallochons raiding the Stowiak mining operation, Captain?" "I did." Wulfe moved a light pawn forward, enjoying the texture of the game piece in his hand. So much more pleasurable than the holographic version of the game where you touched nothing but the flat control pads. He frowned at Catherine, not wanting to admit to his uncertain memory. "The raids are becoming more frequent, aren't they?" "Aye." She gestured to the holographic image. "The first three lists contain the site and ship names of all confirmed Mallochon attacks. The fourth is a list of missing ships we can't verify as Mallochon targets, though all evidence suggests as much. I finished this last roster a few minutes ago." Wulfe studied the names, tried to make correlations between them, something solid and inarguable. "The attacks seem more random than I'd expect from the Mallochons." "I know." A single, fine line of concentration formed midway between her eyebrows. She moved one of her dark−colored game pieces, countering his cursory opening gambit with an obviously unplanned move. Catherine drank jeela from her mug. Chapter 9

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He tried to keep from staring at her mug and the muddy−looking brew. He favored the tea, but hadn't seen too many Earthers drink jeela. How had she developed a taste for the potent tea? Wulfe skimmed the list in an effort to make sense of the attacks. "Very random. Unless..." Catherine sat up a little straighter. "What?" She looked at him, her remarkable amber eyes wide as they called to him, pulled him in with their promise of glorious magic. Catherine's perfume, rich with exotic sensuality, embraced him. Either Albright hadn't completed her assigned task, or Catherine had ignored the offered advice about the perfume. No matter; he'd miss the scent if she stopped wearing it now, anyway. Wulfe fought an oddly dizzying sense of familiarity that spoke to him at every level of his being, and wrenched his gaze from hers. He refocused on the names and dates. "I'm wondering if the Mallochons are trying to make us think the hits are random." "Random on the surface, but in a manner controlled by them?" Wulfe nodded in agreement, appreciating the way they seemed to work together, to think alike. "To throw us off." Chapter 9

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"In other words, you think some of the targets are genuine, but some are decoys." "Exactly." He pushed one of his light knights forward recklessly, threatening her advanced pawn. "Not every one of the ships and sites are League property. Some belong to the non−aligned worlds. What do the majority of the ships or sites have in common?" Catherine touched a control pad. The groups of names reformed into two separate lists, one markedly longer than the other. "Mining? Wulfe, look! Mining operations and ore carriers." Wulfe paused a moment, realizing he liked the way she said his name. "Ore. Sweet Creator, the Mallochons are looking for plunarium!" "Hang on." She tapped out another sequence on the pads and the names reshuffled. "And stations that had ore carriers in orbit at the time of attack. I should have caught this." "You would have. This all but confirms that the Mallochons can't replicate the power source for new shrouding devices any more than we can." "I'd say so, blessings upon the Creator." Startled by her use of the Bellon phrase, Wulfe watched her and recalled all the nuances that pointed to a Bellon connection. What was the key factor? She made another hurried and haphazard move on the chessboard, as if she did it only to keep busy. Her sudden Chapter 9

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nervousness distracted him. "Catherine, they haven't figured out we possess their shrouding technology, have they?" "I don't see how." She gave him a quick, tired smile. "Not that the technology does us much good without plunarium." "Our replication efforts still exploding in our faces?" "Within seconds of activation." A dark shadow haunted her eyes for a moment. "Your technical knowledge hasn't suffered any with memory loss." "I know. I can remember all of that as clearly as the Sacred Desert, but certain other things..." Certain other hazy glimpses drove him space happy! "What kind of other things?" Catherine leaned forward, an expectant look on her exquisite face. "Perhaps I can help." "I doubt it." If she only knew the kind of help his body needed! Wulfe tapped a finger to his forehead. The intrusive ache expanded with hateful determination. Every time he tried to force a memory, the dull ache bloomed into full−blown pain. To distract himself, he made a countering move on the chessboard. "Too bad we have only the one shrouding device." "Isn't it, though?" Catherine shot him a quizzical look that set him to wondering. Chapter 9

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"The equipment must have been dismantled down to its molecules by now." He watched for her reaction. "One would think so." Bland enough answer. Maybe too bland. Chin propped in the palm of her hand, Catherine studied his countering move. A frown crept across her features. A server placed another tankard of ale on the table in front of Wulfe. "Congratulations, Captain. Looks like you have the commander on the run again." "Again?" Wulfe asked, surprised and somehow pleased by this new discovery−−he played chess! When the server walked away, he shook his head. "How about that? I didn't realize I knew the game." He glanced at Catherine only to see her frown had deepened, her eyes narrowed. "What?" Catherine sat back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest. "Actually, you're quite a chess man. I ought to know. I taught you, you bloody fraud." Something that could have been pain dulled the green flecks in her eyes. "What else do you remember that you haven't told us?" He watched in amazement as she shoved back her chair and stormed out of the mess hall. Chapter 9

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OUTRAGE PROPELLED Cat as far as sickbay. She paced the confines of Albright's office, so torn between rage and jubilation the room spun around her. She heartily disliked the suspicions about Wulfe swirling through her, detested even more what they could mean about her mental stability. "I'm telling you, Nora, the bloody idiot remembers. He must!" "Calm down. Remembering how to play chess is equivalent to remembering how to−−oh, I don't know−−how to take a shower." "Oh, come on!" Cat growled a sound of disgust. She slapped her palms flat to the top of Albright's desk, leaned over the surface and hung her head, so close to admitting defeat. "You can do better than that!" "Catherine, you've had enough medical background to know I'm right. If you could feel the captain's emotions, you'd agree with me." "Maybe. Maybe not. The point is, I can't feel his emotions! What about the technical information Wulfe's able to recall? What about it?" "Even that follows the same pattern." "How?" She'd moved beyond recognizing anything as logical as patterns. Only frustration and pain registered right now. Chapter 9

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"For one, he remembers the shrouder, but assumes Space Corps has dismantled the device." "True, or so he makes it seem." "The captain apparently has no idea your sister is using the equipment. Once again, he can't recall anything that might tie you to him." Nothing seemed to make sense any more. Pessimism would keep her from being disappointed. "I think he does remember, but has no intention of resuming every aspect of our life together. The facts are quite plain to me." "Space debris!" Albright sat on the corner of her desk, blew out a huff of air. "You're so accustomed to depending on your empathic talents to guide you...well, quite simply, you're lost without them. And that's driving you crazy." "You can say that again. I've made the mistake of taking the ability for granted. I never realized to what extent." "How do you think people like me get along? Instinct, intuition, that's how. You've always told me about outstanding Bellon instincts. This is an opportunity to allow your natural insights to develop without relying on the Erosian attributes." "An opportunity, huh? Sounds bloody easy when you put it into words." Cat put a palm Chapter 9

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to each temple and pushed, as though trying to squeeze the missing talent out of hiding. She detested this helpless feeling! "I can't seem to think clearly. Too tired, I guess." "Lack of sleep will do that to the sanest person. I can only imagine what the result can be on Bellons." "Your encouragement is so heartfelt." "Okay, so you're not exactly in a lighthearted mood. My advice is to spend some time with Garrett and Morgan. They'll be leaving soon enough. Once they're safe, you can finally sleep. Oops, that reminds me; make sure you see me after they've gone so we can do something about the abrupt stop in nursing. I still have the dosage ready from before." Already mourning the children's absences, Cat tried to crowd her impending loneliness into a neat little corner to be ignored. An impossibility. "Nora? I don't know how much longer I can cope with this mess. In some ways, this is worse than when Wulfe and I were separated. He's here, so close, but I can't touch him or say the things I want−−need−−to say. I feel completely ineffectual. Dammit, I miss my husband!" "Then imagine how the captain must feel, knowing he can't recall everything and not knowing how critical the lost information might be." Albright draped a comforting arm around Cat's shoulders and squeezed. "Believe it or not, things will come right. I hesitate to Chapter 9

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say this, but all you need is a little more patience." "Patience is not a Bellon personality trait." "Boy, don't I know it," Albright lamented on a sigh. DETERMINED TO discover why the chess game, or rather the aimless maneuvering of the chess pieces, had disturbed her so, Wulfe followed the sound of Catherine's gentle voice. He stood at the edge of a small clearing in the ship's arboretum, transfixed by the sight. Catherine swept the thick wealth of mahogany−colored curls to one side−−hair that would feel like silk and velvet−−leaving her face in profile. He'd never seen so much strength in such a delicate bone structure. She knelt next to a naked babe while she fastened the top half of her uniform closed. The boy child waved his arms and legs, cooing in response to Catherine's smile and soft tone. Catherine had a child on board? A young babe? Catherine had been aboard the Falchion for several months, so did that 'unknown' father remain part of the crew? Which man? "I vow, Garrett, every day you outgrow at least one piece of clothing. At this rate, you could challenge even your father by your twentieth cycle." She touched the babe's cheek. "I would advise you not..." her voice broke and trailed off, "...father...strongest warrior I've Chapter 9

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ever known." Who was this warrior Catherine believed to be so strong? A flush of jealousy moved over Wulfe, quickly followed by the memory of the first time he'd challenged his father. He'd just attained his own twentieth cycle. Raptor wasted no time in knocking him back down to size and the proper level of respect demanded from a Bellon son. A fleeting moment of nostalgia, a yearning for their harshly beautiful homeworld, washed over Wulfe. He sighed in response. Catherine whirled in a defensive crouch. The movement placed her body between him and the helpless child. She grabbed at air near her right thigh and muttered a soft oath, then relaxed as her searching gaze found him. "Wul−−Captain. I didn't hear you approach." Her body posture eased. She reached for some sort of miniature clothing and turned toward the babe. The smile reappeared on her face, obscuring the facade of the duty−minded officer he'd become accustomed to seeing. "He−e−e−lp!" The high−pitched, childish shriek destroyed the serenity of the arboretum. A loud splash punctuated the end of the yell, leaving only ominous silence. "Stars and space dust! That's Morgan!" Catherine jumped up, threw the tiny piece of loose cloth at Wulfe, bounded through the bushes in the direction of the sounds. "Watch the Chapter 9

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babe!" Wulfe gaped at the child while Catherine raced away. He stared at the cloth−like article in his hand. Obviously meant for the babe, but...the exact purpose eluded him. What the narg was he supposed to do now? Find a nurse here in the trees? He paused to listen, waiting to see if Catherine would call for help. Not likely that Commander Efficiency would do so. The child−−Garrett, had she said?−−stared back at him and then smiled a sweet, innocent expression of absolute acceptance. A sensation of warmth and enchanted awe filled Wulfe. He sank to the ground. "Your father has no idea what he's missing." He studied the child, not believing his eyes. Bellon! The child carried Bellon blood. A lot of it, from the looks of him. Wulfe shook his head. Couldn't be. Catherine's tiny body never should have been able to sustain the life of this robust child. He knew without a doubt, though, that the babe belonged to Catherine. Wulfe leaned over the child and grinned. "You have your mother's remarkable eyes, young warrior." The vicious little fiend repaid the honorable compliment by aiming a golden stream at Wulfe's beard. Wulfe dodged sideways. The arching liquid caught him at waist level, across his crotch and down the leg of his uniform. Chapter 9

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"Argh!" His initial roar of outrage quickly transformed into laughter. Caught off guard by a warrior only a fraction of his size! Purely in self−defense, Wulfe fastened the cloth−like rectangle around the boy. He picked up Garrett and settled him along his forearm. "You won't get the chance to do that to me again, you little commando. You are too much like your mother for your own good. Have you been taking lessons from her?" Catherine charged back into the clearing. She carried a young girl, both of them drenched through. "I heard you yell. What's wrong?" Setting the girl on her feet, Catherine pointed at Wulfe and laughed until she sounded breathless. "You're a bit wet around the edges, but I must admit the diapering job has been done quite competently." Wulfe glanced at the swathed babe in the crook of his arm, almost surprised to see him resting so easily there. Moments ago, he wouldn't have believed himself capable of putting up with such a fragile being, let alone hold him and have the child's nearness feel so right. "I managed, for my first time." Catherine moved closer, her left eyebrow arched upward. "Looks expertly done to me. Sure you haven't done this before?" Wulfe squared his shoulders and tried to change the abruptly uncomfortable subject. Fierce pain shot through his head. "The babe's been smiling. Your son seems to like me." Chapter 9

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"Uh−huh, sure he does." Catherine moved Wulfe's arm so the boy lay in a more upright position. The little monster he held burped. "Gas," Catherine said with a roll of her eyes. The girl, about six or seven cycles, watched him with wide−eyed consternation and then giggled. She looked absolutely nothing like Catherine. Instead, Morgan appeared enough like a Bellon she might be mistaken for a Fullblood. So much so, she reminded Wulfe of his own brother at that age. Obviously born of a far different union than the babe, who carried overt traits of both Earther and Bellon. Wulfe glanced at Catherine. Unions with two different Bellons? Unlikely. He immediately thought of Mykal Lyon. Catherine and Mykal seemed so comfortable together, and with the security chief being only a Halfblood, a mating between them shouldn't cause serious harm to Catherine. Fullbloods, in the throes of mating lust, had been known to unwittingly injure mates of a more fragile race. Some offworlders had even died when the warriors' mating lust had been tainted with blood lust, and it hadn't always been the females who failed to survive. "Fa−−" "Morgan," Catherine interrupted sharply as she moved between Wulfe and the girl, "take your already−in−trouble behind back to your room and change into something dry. Right Chapter 9

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now." The girl protested, but one look from Catherine got her moving. After a last pleading look at Wulfe, Morgan hightailed it down one of the paths. Wulfe glanced back to Catherine. A mating with Lyon didn't convincingly explain Morgan. "She fall in the pond?" "Face first, naturally." Catherine leaned over from the waist and wrung the water from her thick, curly hair. She straightened, flipped the damp hair over a shoulder. Wulfe suddenly realized how revealing cold, wet clothing could be. Catherine's nipples hardened to peaks beneath the soft fabric of her teal uniform top. The palms of his hands tingled in response. Unfortunately, his body recognized the same thing. His arousal strained uncomfortably against his wet trousers. Catherine reached for the babe's blanket. "I'd better go change my clothes, too." "Good idea." He took the blanket from her and draped a corner of the material over the babe. The arrangement allowed most of the cloth to hang down the front of his own clothing. "I'll carry the little comman−−, uh, carry Garrett back to your quarters, so you don't soak him through." Chapter 9

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She glanced at the blanket, the babe, then at Wulfe's trousers. "You think on your feet, I'll give you that." Wulfe shifted his focus to Catherine's exquisite face as they walked. "All I have to do is watch you around Garrett and Morgan to see how much they mean to you. If war's declared, they won't be safe aboard the Falchion. They may not be even now." "I know. Arrangements have been made for their passage home." "Home?" Where did Catherine call home? "Aye, home." "Good. I'd hate to see anything happen to them." "I appreciate your concern." "Catherine, does either Garrett's or Morgan's father hold a special place in your heart?" Her amber eyes widened, her breath seemed to catch. Several seconds passed before she exhaled, and then it looked as though her chin quivered. "Aye, the children's father fills my heart as no other man ever could." Wulfe's midsection suddenly felt hollow. "Then why aren't you with this fortunate man?" Catherine glanced away, then uneasily met his probing look again. "Circumstances prevent that option." Chapter 9

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Oh, Garesh! The man was dead! His question must have caused renewed grief for her−−he saw pain in her face, deep in her eyes. For that reason, he regretted his prying, but the desire to learn more about this female consumed him. "I meant no intrusion nor offense." "You have not offended, Captain." They'd almost reached their goal. Wulfe thought he was home free until they came across Albright and Lyon in the main corridor of officer quarters. He adjusted the babe's blanket, working to unobtrusively stretch the fabric enough to cover the wet crotch of his uniform. He managed to maintain his dignity until Albright burst out laughing. "What in the stars happened? We saw Morgan slosh through here a minute ago, now look at you two. Is there a leak somewhere we don't know about?" Albright laughed so hard her eyes watered. Lyon's jaw jumped with the effort to contain his mirth, but Wulfe saw the lieutenant's laughter threaten to erupt at any moment. "Is everyone finished amusing themselves?" Wulfe asked with as much dignity as possible under the circumstance. "No," Catherine answered, a grin finally breaking through. "They should know that Chapter 9

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Morgan and I have only pond water soaking us. The captain, however, has been anointed with−−" "I don't think they need to know, Commander." She flicked him a mutinous look that he felt right down to his tailbone−−and other places. "As the captain prefers. I'm happy to accommodate." Catherine plucked her son and her son's blanket from Wulfe's arms, walked away to her quarters. Albright and Lyon stared at Wulfe, and his trousers. "Either of you want to say anything?" "No, Sir," Lyon responded immediately. "Yes, Sir, but I won't, Sir," Albright choked out before she disappeared around the curve in the corridor with Lyon. Secluded in his suite, Wulfe washed and changed his uniform, but couldn't settle to anything. He stalked through his quarters from one room to another, the target of his restless search elusive and indefinable. The rooms pulled pranks on him. He'd walk into one of the stark sleeping chambers to find the room empty, turn to leave. If he whirled back, the chamber would be occupied, only for an instant. Sometimes he'd see a baby's cradle, or a child sitting on the floor playing a game of Shiylon, the board and pieces Chapter 9

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scattered haphazardly. Did his mind play tricks on him−−a manifestation of the amnesia−−or did an odd residual effect of the blindness plague him? Either way, the visions made him twitchy. Sometimes he'd see a small bed filled with a child and tumbled covers tossed around. So many times, as the ghostly images faded, he'd catch the faintest scent. Warm, earthy, spicy, and totally arousing, totally Catherine. Then the perfume would vanish as quickly as the visual illusions. "Enough!" Wulfe bellowed to the unsympathetic bulkheads. Nargging wonderful. Now he talked to empty rooms. He needed something to occupy him. If he went to the flight deck again, the techs would mutiny for certain, this time. He decided to go where simple instinct would lead him. Wulfe escaped from the illusions and sought solace for his wounded pride and endangered sanity in the deserted officers' exercise room. The somber grays of the gym's bulkheads and deck suited his mood. As he pumped his way through a second set of reps, Wulfe computed in his mind how much weight to add for the next set, how far to lunge with each lift. He worked out a timetable for completing repairs on the ship. He approximated the time of day they'd be able to leave Station Uhlein. He estimated how Chapter 9

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many days before he'd see his mother and father again. Anything to keep his mind off one inescapable fact. He needed a woman. Short of banging his head against the bulkhead−−repeatedly−−he couldn't figure out how to ignore the obvious fact, the obvious evidence. Then again, maybe he should go up against a bulkhead−−a good rap to the skull might shake loose the last of the forgotten information. "Well, Captain, I'm in awe. Not many warriors concentrate so effectively on their...lunges. Fascinating." Wulfe replaced the barbell with a clang, turned to face the intruder. The pilot, Blackwood, inspected his body with Bellon brazenness. Her near−black eyes filled with female appreciation before she stepped closer. Beware what you dream, Wulfe thought absently, for Sister Fate may respond. Each of Blackwood's movements shouted seduction. Every slow, deliberate, long−legged stride toward him. Even the breaths she took, intentionally deep, thrusting her breasts to attention. She'd inherited her height from her Bellon ancestors, so she barely had to angle her head back to meet his gaze. She licked her upper lip with a studied sensuality calculated to drive any living male insane with mating lust. "I love the scent of a man's body when he's worked himself hard. Very erotic." Chapter 9

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Blackwood ran the palm of her hand up his bicep. "I enjoy the feel of his sweat−slicked body against mine. Very arousing. It's been too long since a warrior has taken me." Wulfe's gaze followed her hand's movement across his chest, down his abdomen. "Seeing your more than eager willingness to go after what you want, Blackwood, I can understand how you graduated flight training at the top of your class." "I thoroughly enjoy being on top, Captain." "Oh, I bet you do." Wulfe grabbed her hand, stopped any further downward exploration. He brought the hand to his face, touched the tip of his tongue to her palm, inhaled. Her scent, her taste...ordinary, Wulfe realized. Nothing like.... Blackwood snaked an arm around his neck, dragging his face to hers. Wulfe devoured her mouth, hoping to find easement with her. Her hand resumed its initial quest, groped downward. Shocked, Wulfe realized Blackwood's intended target had gone limply unmoved, flaccidly uninterested. Before he could jerk away, a Bellon battle cry of outrage split the air. Wulfe and Blackwood turned as one, instantly on guard, and met, of all things, the wrath−filled glare blazing from Commander Culver's eyes. "Blackwood," Catherine managed between gritted teeth, "did I or did I not give you a Chapter 9

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direct order regarding your fighter?" "Aye, you did." "Finished already?" Catherine demanded, almost snarling. "No, Ma'am." "I don't want to see your promiscuous tail off the flight deck until you've completed your task and had the results verified by the techs. Do you understand those orders?" "Yes, Ma'am." Blackwood strode toward the exit with a deliberate, exaggerated swing of said promiscuous tail. "That does it," Catherine almost growled the words. She grabbed the bigger, younger woman, braced herself and jerked the pilot around to face her. Catherine twisted the fistful of uniform until Blackwood's collar threatened to choke off her air. "If I ever find you in such a compromising position with the captain again, you won't have to worry about your bloody career." "Ma'am?" Blackwood coughed, fought for air. "Dead pilots have no future but that of space dust," Catherine prophesied in clipped, perfect Bellonese. With a near−soundless snarl, she twisted tighter. "Go ahead, keep reaching for your stiletto, Blackwood, and I guarantee you'll find it. Firmly lodged between Chapter 9

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your fifth and sixth ribs. Am I clear?" Blackwood's hand froze centimeters from the hilt of her dagger. Wulfe blew out a breath. He been so engrossed in the confrontation he hadn't noticed Blackwood's careful movement. "A threat, Commander?" Blackwood dared to ask. Catherine released her hold on the pilot with such distaste and so abruptly Blackwood staggered backward. "Don't ever mistake the vow I just voiced for a mere threat, or you will surely die before you ever face a Mallochon in battle." Transfixed by the sight, Wulfe watched a shaken Blackwood make her humbled escape. Then, oh, then, anger filled him. He advanced on Catherine. "You forget your place, Commander!" "Like bloody hell. I gave Blackwood an assignment, a direct order." "Did it occur to you, Commander, that as captain, I may have pulled rank and given her a different assignment?" Catherine's brow arched sharply upward. "Sir, yes, Sir. If the captain wishes, Sir, I'll go and retrieve the bloody wench for the captain. Are those the captain's wishes, Sir?" Wulfe took a menacing step toward her, fully expecting her to back down. "Do not take Chapter 9

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that tone with me, Commander." "Sir, yes, Sir." Hostility fairly crackled between them. "As the captain prefers, Sir." "I repeat, Commander, you forget your place!" Enraged by her lack of fear, he practically saw red. Catherine tilted her head way back, far enough to glare into his eyes. "No, I don't. For the first time in two days, I've finally remembered my place, and I'm acting accordingly. If you have a problem with that, live with it or do something about it. Your choice." Her scent found him−−or did he find the perfume?−−and immediately accomplished what Blackwood's practiced attempts had failed to do. His entire body stood at rigid attention again. Struggling to ignore his pounding arousal, Wulfe baited her with the truth. "You have absolutely no idea what you interrupted, Commander." Catherine glanced down his body, grimaced before meeting his gaze again. "Oh, don't I?" "None, whatsoever." "I'd say I have−−that is, you have−−hard evidence to the contrary. I may not be a Fullblood Bellon like you, but even I know what that is. Stay away from my pilots, Captain." Chapter 9

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Catherine turned her back−−dared to turn her back−−on him to walk away. She looked at him over her shoulder, a wicked grin on her exotic face. The green flecks in her amber eyes sizzled. "That would be the men as well as the women. Sir." Wulfe roared. He reached for her with rage, found her with desire.

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Chapter 10 CAT HELD HER breath. She moved one split second too late. Before the breath left her lungs, Wulfe pulled her toward him, fitted them together with masterful precision. She read the transformations in his dark brown eyes. She'd seen the metamorphosis too many times to mistake the signs for anything else. Anger changed to desire then exploded into need, the driving need of Bellon mating lust shining clearly in his eyes. Cat's body defied her mind's direct order and instinctively melted against his. "I will have you. Now." Wulfe growled the words, deep and dangerous, his voice roughened by the emotions compelling him. Every instinct in her demanded she give in. Cat stiffened against the man she called husband. She couldn't allow herself that luxury. The pain of denial seared her nerve endings with excruciating retaliation. "Not like this, you won't." Wulfe's laugh rumbled up from deep within his broad chest. His hot mouth took command of hers, proved how utterly wrong she could be. His hungry besiegement shredded the remnants of her restraint and control. Fire sizzled through her veins. Her body Chapter 10

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burned with the inherent response to her lifemate, her soul mate. "Do not allow the uniform to fool you, Catherine." "Wh−what?" she breathed the question. "Beneath this civilized veneer of Corps uniform I am but one thing. A savage Bellon. A barbarian." Cat's heart quivered−−he felt the same, tasted the same, held her the same, sounded the same. Wulfe claimed her body with his big, strong hands. She nearly sobbed with the joy of it. She pressed against him, unable to get close enough. A wild ravenous sound escaped from deep inside Wulfe and she trapped the call of his soul in her mouth, treasured the summons. Cat's comm tag chirped, the sound small and insignificant, barely reaching her awareness. Her heart ignored the intrusion, but Corps−trained reasoning came to the fore. She groped for the blasted insignia with shaking fingers. "Culver." Her voice came out so ragged she almost didn't recognize her own name. Worse, the physical war raging within her ravaged and tattered her emotions beyond all hope. "Hold message." Cat swallowed, regarded Wulfe with as calm a demeanor as she could dredge up. "Put me down." Chapter 10

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She'd intended the words as a stern command, but to her embarrassment and dishonor, they came out almost as a soft plea. Wulfe's dark eyes pinned her, studied her. His broad chest pumped in air. He loosened his hold, but only enough to let her slide down the front of his body. When her feet touched the deck, he kept her from collapsing into a heap. She steadied, locked her knees. Wulfe stepped back a pace or two, his breathing still heavy and quick. The glazed look of shock paled the normal dark bronze color of his face. Still watching Wulfe for any sudden movements, maybe even hoping for one, Cat touched the tag on her collar with fingers that barely trembled this time. "Ready." Seleen's voice, sibilant and feline, drove the wedge of normalcy firmly between them. 'You asked to be notified when the Moon Maiden arrived. That vessel will be putting into Uhlein in approximately ten minutes. She's been assigned to level sixteen, docking ring beta.' "Respond that the message has been received and that I'll meet her captain in the corresponding bay." Bless the Creator, Cass had finally arrived. For once, her sister's timing proved to be an asset. Without the interruption, she and Wulfe might have lost control. They would probably be rolling around on the deck, naked and sweaty and...blast Chapter 10

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Cass for getting here when she should! 'Aye, Commander. I will relay the message.' Cat retreated to the exit, not taking her gaze from him. If she turned her back, Wulfe could take the act as an insult−−or worse in this case, an invitation to continue what they'd started−−and she felt woefully inadequate to either possibility right now. He watched her retreat, silent even when he reached out a hand toward her and then let his arm fall back to his side. Expressions she recognized as loneliness and confused loss shadowed Wulfe's face, then vanished. Though she couldn't feel his emotions, Cat's heart contracted at the sight and felt battered and bruised, buried under the guilt of her omissions, the guilt of how she selfishly wanted him. "Wait." "I−−no−−I can't−−I−−" "Catherine. You seem overwhelmed, as though tormented by some emotion. Guilt, perhaps. Why is this?" Wulfe's accuracy left her nearly speechless. All she could do was shake her head. "Yes," he countered, "and I believe I know the reasons." Chapter 10

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"You do?" Cat managed to croak. "Aye. You think of the man who fills your heart." "Yes." Such bliss to state the truth! "But there's more. You know my mate, don't you?" "What?" "I intend no disrespect to you or my mate. It is not my intention to dishonor you or your memories. I would take you as consort." "You'd do what?!" Oh, that did it! The guilt vanished in a burst of outrage. Take her as consort, indeed! "Glory's Gate! What an egomaniacal male! What makes you think you have a mate? The fact that you'd make such a bloody good Lord?" "No, but I do remember what this signifies." Wulfe reached beneath his shirt and pulled out his bonding chain. Cat wanted to strangle herself with the bloody thing! Creator, how had she managed to forget that? Easy enough in retrospect. When he'd been unconscious, they'd had no inkling of his amnesia, and so had no reason to remove the chain. Once he awoke, the necklace had been the last bloody thing on her mind, or anyone else's. Wulfe let go of the chain, reached back and pulled the thong from his hair to allow the Chapter 10

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strands to flow across his shoulders. "I know my mate lives because I have no mourning braid." Why hadn't she foreseen this? "Catherine?" How to get around this? Logic. Wulfe detested cold Syllogian logic. "How do you expect your mate to react when you show up with a consort?" "Is that an agreement?" Wulfe's eagerness purged cold logic in a flash. "That was a question you haven't answered! Will your mate challenge me? Or will she slit my throat while I sleep? I know which I'd do!" "I don't have the answers you seem to want." "Didn't think so." Cat whirled and made her escape into the corridor. What else could she do? If she stayed, she'd never regain the backbone needed to keep from telling him the entire truth. Gods. She needed to find a new source of strength to protect Wulfe from himself. That revelation haunted her while she checked in on the children and Fallon, and then again on the short cutter flight to the station. The subsequent crowded lift ride to Uhlein's Chapter 10

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beta−sixteen docking ring left her mind awhirl. Well, she'd asked herself what new disaster would strike, and she'd gotten an answer beyond any imaginings! Really late now, Cat bustled across Uhlein's level sixteen bay. She spied an agitated Cass pacing in front of stacked cargo. Looking at Cass was like gazing into a mirror with a stubborn mind of its own. So much alike, but so different. Predawn light and evening twilight. "Sister," Cass greeted. "I thought you'd changed your mind about meeting me." "It took longer to get away than I thought it would." "You haven't altered your plans?" "No. I feel more strongly about getting Morgan and Garrett to safety than I did before." If anything, Morgan's near disaster of calling Wulfe 'Father' while they'd been in the arboretum had only convinced her this must be done soon. She'd done her best to explain to Morgan why her father hadn't recognized her, but Cat had seen the confusion in the girl's eyes. "Morgan and Garrett will leave with you, for their own safety and well−being. Morgan says she understands why she can't see her father, but she's too young to comprehend all the reasons. The enforced separation hurts her deeply." Chapter 10

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Cat's throat closed against the pain and loss flaying at her. Just when she thought she'd break under the load, she felt Cass's arm around her waist, bolstering, encouraging. "I'd wager my last credit Morgan is not the only one suffering from this estrangement," Cass responded in a subdued tone. "I'll protect the children with my life, as will my mate. He awaits us in his own ship, just beyond scanner range." "I entrust them into your capable safekeeping." No one else would keep the children safer, but the thought of separation sent a chill through her. Cass withdrew her arm. "How much does Wulfe know?" Cat looked around the quiet bay, trying to rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling someone watched them. Nerves and guilt, she decided, and disgust with herself for harboring such weaknesses. "To all outward appearances, nothing, although I wonder if he's beginning to suspect some parts." "If Wulfe realizes the truth after we've gone, he'll hunt me down with a vengeance for daring to take his children from him." Cass's mouth twisted into a grim smile. "He's not overly fond of me as it is. Kidnapping won't endear me any further. But first, he will have his reckoning with you, Sister. Bellons do not take kindly to deceptive mates." "He'll be happy they're on their way to safety." Cat could only hope Wulfe would one Chapter 10

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day see the logic of all her deceptions, each intended to protect him and his children. He would understand, and even agree, Creator willing, but not until he remembered everything. She hoped to be around to see the day. Nora continued to assure her it would happen, but also maintained her insistence that Wulfe remember on his own. Cass shrugged, not committing herself to an answer. "What safer way for Garrett and Morgan to be returned home but on a ship that not only can ghost the entire way, but can Seek other shrouded vessels? You must rest easy, Cat, for you are doing the right thing for the good of the children. We've finished offloading our cargo and only need to stow what's slated for us to take out. When will the children be here?" "Fallon will bring them within the next half hour. I should go now, to lessen the chances of anyone seeing us together. The fewer people who know about this, the safer we'll all be." "I'll be leaving for the Devil's Graveyard once I've delivered the children. Some unfinished business to complete." "Take care, Sister. You'll be hard−pressed to find any friendly assistance in that far−flung sector of space." "I'm not staying there any longer than necessary. Leave any messages for me on Bellona or Syllog, because no one besides family is to know of our visit to the Graveyard. I'll Chapter 10

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retrieve any communications as soon as we're out of that sector." "The Creator guide and keep all of you, Cass." "And you, Cat. Our times together are never long enough these days. To my surprise, I'm discovering I miss you." Cat clasped Cass, forearm to forearm. "Now that we wish to spend time together, Sister Fate has other plans. Soon, though." She spun away, hurried from the bay before she weakened and kept her children with her, endangering them and Wulfe. WULFE WATCHED Catherine leave the Falchion's exercise room. He struggled to keep the newly realized truth from his face. By the gods, crazy as the thought seemed to him, he actually wanted this Earther! Not Blackwood or any of the other Bellon females around him, but Catherine. He desired Catherine physically, of course, but wanted her in other, unexpected ways. He'd forego bedding any other female simply to be in the same room with Catherine, eat a meal, share a drink. Plan a future. Gods! His phantom mate would have an opinion on that! Chapter 10

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If those thoughts didn't create enough problems, Wulfe finally admitted to himself that he cared about Catherine. Now, if only he could figure out why. He cared more than he ever should, and knew his concern went deep enough to make himself dangerous to her. She attracted him with far more than her svelte little body. Her mind and soul seemed to call to him as well. How was this possible? What was it about this female that spoke to him, moved him so deeply that his very soul responded? Wulfe's hand strayed to the chain around his neck. When he'd realized he wore a bonding chain, the discovery shocked him. He still couldn't put a name or face to the female who must wear the corresponding links, but when he removed the necklace, he felt absurdly naked and bereft and quickly refastened the chain. Somewhere, he had a mate. Who? Where? How could he forget a mate that seemingly bound him so? He could demand answers of the people who'd known him the longest, but his admission would prick the pride of that mate, possibly even stain her sense of honor. It wouldn't do much for his, either. He ran his fingers through his hair as though checking again for a braid. Aye, she lived. Why weren't he and his mate together? Had he ever felt as strongly about this ghostly mate as he seemed to feel about Catherine now? He assumed so, considering how naked he felt Chapter 10

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without the symbolic chain. He didn't have any of the answers, but determination to find them drove him onward. He'd find them, on his own, as any Bellon would. First on his agenda, he'd see what Catherine intended to do aboard the space station once she met with this other captain. What did that captain mean to her? The short trip to Uhlein after he changed into his uniform seemed to take forever, though he gained access to the docking ring in record time using priority override. Wulfe worked his way between rows of shipping drums, the hexagonal containers stacked two, three and four high. He covertly watched the woman who had filled his thoughts so recently. Catherine held a handcom, apparently doing an inventory of the supplies being readied for stowing aboard a vessel. Wulfe scowled, waited for her to turn in his direction, puzzled by what he could see. Catherine looked taller, maybe four or five centimeters. Must be a trick of the unfamiliar copper−colored leathers she wore so well. She pocketed the handcom and began to pace, but she moved differently, too. Her smooth, graceful walk lacked the slight, uniquely defiant sway to her sweetly curved hips that he found so sensual. Garesh! She'd cut the gossamer veil of her hair! But how, in such a short time? Now the Chapter 10

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red locks draped only to her trim waist, straighter than he'd ever seen, subdued to deep waves instead of the wild curls. The shorter length gave her hair the strange optical illusion of being darker. A shiny auburn, but not the mahogany silk that tempted him. She turned to watch something. Wulfe shook his head distractedly. The overhead lights in the bay did weird things. Catherine's face, though gorgeous as always, lacked the certain delicate perfection he'd grown accustomed to. Wulfe couldn't believe his ears when she finally spoke−−even her voice had altered. "Sister, I thought you'd changed your mind about meeting me." "It took longer to get away than I thought it would," a lushly familiar, husky voice answered. Wulfe gripped the edge of a shipping drum. Much of the ensuing conversation eluded him. He'd lost his mind! Not−quite mirror images faced each other. His disbelieving gaze darted back and forth between the two women. Stunned by the resemblance, he simply stared−−until some of their words slammed into his consciousness and demanded immediate attention. "If Wulfe realizes the truth after we've gone, he'll hunt me down with a vengeance for daring to take his children from him. He's not overly fond of me as it is. Kidnapping won't Chapter 10

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endear me any further. But first, he will have his reckoning with you, Sister. Bellons do not take kindly to deceptive mates." His children? His mate? Catherine? The black vortex that had been swirling around him now threatened to pull him in and down, sucked the air from his lungs. He reached blindly for more support. His children? The girl−−Morgan−−who had birthed her? Couldn't have been Catherine−−too much Bellon blood. Catherine was stealing his children! And taking them where? Vengeance? Catherine's sister had no idea! Righteous retribution! Neither of the females would survive their acts of treachery, he'd see to that! And the other−−Catherine's sibling−−possessed shrouding capabilities as well as detection equipment. How? Only the Mallochons had the technology, except for what Space Corps had been able to discover from their purloined equipment. And as far as he knew no one had the technology to detect ghosting ships. Could they be Mallochon collaborators, traitors, the both of them? His mind screamed 'yes' but his heart denied the prospect. Or did his manhood control his heart now? Wulfe glared at Cat's retreating back, his fists clenching and unclenching with frustrated rage. The female he'd considered as consort−−the female he apparently had taken as Chapter 10

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mate−−dared to betray him by stealing away his children, kidnapping them. One hand around her little neck! No. Too quick. Too clean. She'd pay the price for her lies, her tricks, her honorless deception, but he needed to find out why, and the destination. Each disjointed thought battled the others for supremacy until chaos reigned. In a macabre way, some things finally made sense, though. Small pieces of the huge puzzle began to fit. Wulfe slipped around behind the staging area toward the main entrance to the bay. Once, he thought he heard the sound of another's footsteps, but he couldn't locate the source so he continued on his way. He approached the taller redhead as though he'd come from another docking ring. "Hello, Cass," he said in a casual tone, using the name Catherine−−Cat−−had only moments before. Try as he might, he couldn't remember this woman, but he intended to give the opposite impression. "Been a long time since I've seen you." Cass spun around. She reached for the stiletto strapped to her thigh. "Wulfe! What are you doing here?" A scowl formed shallow lines on her face. "You know who I am?" "Of course," Wulfe bluffed, hoping Cass would drop more information. "Why wouldn't I recognize my own mate's sister?" Chapter 10

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"You rotten son of a curra." "I have only one thing to say to you." "What?" She glared at him, her mouth set in a hard slash. "Mention this conversation to your sister, and you will regret the moment you ever heard the name Wulfe Kincade." "As if I don't already!" Shock and outrage marched over her face. Her jaw tightened in a way so like Cat's that the movement almost unnerved him. "How long have you had your memory back? Or did you ever forget? Why would you do this to Cat? Haven't you disgraced your wife enough for one lifetime?" With a speed and skill that surprised Wulfe, Cass held her stiletto to his ribs. "You're planning to Abandon her again, aren't you? Do the honorable thing, Brother Wulfe. Take the bonding chains from her waist and thighs, wrap them around her neck and choke the life from her. Death would be preferable to another cowardly Abandonment by you." The vortex pulled with more force, exerting an overwhelming compulsion to strip him of his sanity. No wonder Cat's face had reflected such stunned confusion when he'd announced his intention to take her as his consort! And what past transgression had Catherine−−Cat−−committed that he would Abandon her? "You will tell no one of my Chapter 10

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warning to you." "What, exactly, is going to stop me?" "One word of our conversation to anyone, and I will put those bonding chains to use in the manner you suggested−−around your sister's neck. Then I'll take you on. The League and Space Corps will suddenly find reason to doubt your loyalty when I see to it they discover you to be a good friend of the Mallochons." "They won't believe your lies." "Let's try it, shall we? When I'm done with my tales, the League of Unified Worlds will realize you've used your shrouding and detection capabilities against them. Is that understood?" "So you know enough to falsely incriminate me." The auburn−haired Cass continued to glare at him. "What my sister found in you, I will never comprehend. Why she still loves you is beyond mortal understanding. Why she would insist the children be escorted home to your parents also eludes me. The House of Burnelle will not accept your actions lightly. Claiming amnesia as a way of Abandoning your mate is not honorable." Wulfe's heart thudded and then stopped for a soul−rending moment. By the gods! Culver and Burnelle. Dove Burnelle of the Bellon House of Burnelle had mated to an offworlder, Chapter 10

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the Syllogian ambassador, Aidan Culver. Cat did claim Bellon blood, enough that she'd seen to the children's safety by sending them to Bellona. He'd bonded with a Burnelle! "Perhaps the Burnelle House won't accept my actions, but the House of Kincade will." "Do not be so certain, Wulfe. Now that Hawke and I have bonded together, too, our Houses are so closely intertwined, they may as well be one. Any insult to Cat−−which your Abandonment is−−is an insult to me. An insult to me is an insult to my husband−−your own brother. Do you wish to cross swords with him? Brother should not shed blood of a brother." Cass's claim nearly did steal his reasoning then. She lied! If, in fact, he and Cat were bonded, then Cass and Hawke had been forbidden to each other, becoming brother and sister when he and Cat had bonded. Bellon custom dictated this, tradition demanded adherence. How could he trust anything Cass said? "Your words hold no power." "Perhaps not mine alone, but the Bellon Tribunal will have an opinion of its own, I assure you. When the lawmakers rescinded the old rules and allowed Hawke to claim me as his mate, they bound the people of our world more closely together, made us stronger against Malloch. Your actions to divide our Houses defeat their very intent. One day, the Tribunal will summon you to stand before them." Chapter 10

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"One day," Wulfe continued to bluff his way through, "but for now, if you tell anyone of our conversation, your sister will pay the price. Will you carry that burden?" "I won't risk Cat's life. You've won this confrontation only. I warn you, do not underestimate the women from the House of Burnelle." Cass sheathed her blade, turned her back−−a calculated insult−−and walked to her ship without sparing one look toward him again. The personnel hatch to her ship closed with finality. Uhlein's inner seal hissed shut. Wulfe stumbled to a shipping drum, sat upon the container while he tried to absorb everything he'd heard and experienced in the last hour. CAT STOOD ON the narrow observation platform overlooking the flight deck. She watched the shuttle take Garrett and Morgan away from the Falchion, away from her, away from their father. And away from danger, she reminded herself, the words a mantra. Knowing the children and Fallon would be safe with Cass did nothing to alleviate the painful loss twisting through her. Cat intended to stay right in this exact spot until she could be around other people without betraying her emotions. One look of sympathy from a single crew member would Chapter 10

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put her over the edge. A flash of movement snared her attention. A cutter drew closer against the backdrop of stars. The little craft aligned itself to the Falchion's bay door, made an approach to dock. By the time the cutter touched down to the bay's deck, she'd read the markings. The captain's cutter from the Orion. Wheeler. Cat clenched her teeth in reaction. She watched him head toward Ellery in the control room, decided she'd better find out what he wanted. By the time Cat reached the main deck, Ellery had left Wheeler alone in the control room and walked over to the just−arrived cutter. Wheeler, standing behind Ellery's computer console, looked up and saw her through the plazglass. He left the control room and headed toward the main exit. Cat changed paths and went after him. "Captain Wheeler. What can the Falchion do for you?" He stopped and turned to face her with a high−voltage smile. "Commander. Seems my timing is off. I came over to tell Fallon goodbye. Actually, I'd planned to ask Fallon if she'd promise not to see anyone else at least until we can put the Mallochon threat behind us." Wheeler's effusive response grated on her nerves. Dismayed by his intentions toward Fallon, Cat worked to find something to say that wouldn't antagonize him. "You just Chapter 10

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missed her." "Chief Ellery said she went over to the station." "She won't be there long. Fallon is on a tight schedule." Wheeler's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Oh? Then I'd better return to Uhlein. I did want to go back to my old quarters for a minute first." "Why is that?" "I can't seem to find a small keepsake of my mother's. Thought maybe I left it behind." "I doubt it. Housekeeping would have notified you." "You've had my quarters cleaned already?" "Standard procedure, Captain." Cat didn't know if the cleaning crew had been there or not, but she didn't want Wheeler on the ship for one second longer than necessary. She had the oddest sensation she'd stepped in something nasty and needed to scrape the bottom of her boots. "Well, if they didn't find anything, guess I'm looking in the wrong place." "Guess so." Cat watched Wheeler return to his cutter and launch from the bay. Ellery reentered the control room for a moment, then came out to join her, so she asked, "What was that Chapter 10

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about?" "Nothing much. The captain said his cutter gave him a spot of trouble on the way over, so I took a look. Just a loose connection. Took me about five seconds with the sonic wrench." "Something Wheeler could have fixed himself?" "Oh, aye, if he had cared to." The low−pitched tone of her comm tag distracted Cat. "Culver." 'Catherine,' Albright's stressed voice came over the comm link. 'I really need you in medical. Now.' Cat almost groaned aloud. If it wasn't one bloody thing, it was another. She'd given up the idea of a night's sleep and would happily, greedily accept an hour or two at this point. Cat sighed, resigned. "What's happened now?" 'We have a situation−−blast!−−just a minute!−−Catherine, I must take this transmission. How soon can you get to sickbay?' Possible catastrophes whirled through her muddled mind. The alarmed anxiety in Albright's voice pushed her into action. "I'm on my way." Chapter 10

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Less than a minute later−−the lift gods had looked favorably upon her−−Cat dashed into the central chamber of the Falchion's partially remodeled sickbay, propelled by the urgency she'd heard in Albright's voice over the comm channel. She skidded to a stop in front of the doctor. "What's wrong? Something happen to Wulfe? One of our crew injured?" Albright shook her head. "None of ours. Moira and I need your help. An Erosian ship, the Shania, is on her way into Uhlein. The Mallochons attacked her. Half the crew is dead, the other half is in bad shape and need medical attention." Unheralded panic swooped in, threatened to engulf her. "I can't−−" "Any healers aboard the Shania are dead. You studied healing on Erosia. I haven't, nor have any of the physicians on Uhlein or any of the ships in orbit. Moira's the only one, and she won't be enough to save everyone needing emergency treatment." "My empathic abilities are gone, Nora! Vanished as if they never existed." Dread she couldn't contain or categorize rose up in her. Panic choked off her air, jerked her heart around like an out−of−control aeroball. To feel and hear the death screams again−−no, not ever again! "I can't. I won't." "Whoa. I didn't mean to set you off. I tend to think of you as the Bellon who conquered Chapter 10

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Wulfe, capable of withstanding anything. I thought this might help you regain your empathic ability. I didn't know the situation was so tough," Albright tried to soothe her with syrupy words. "Why should the situation be tough? Simply because I've warped or broken nearly every regulation Space Corps has regarding command officers? I've lied to half the command brass. I've lied to my own husband. I'm sneaking my children around like they're something to be ashamed of, and narg it all, I've lost the connection to my husband! On top of that, he doesn't bloody remember me! Tough? Not yet, but wait until things really get heated up. Stand back and watch me go nova!" Cat slapped a hand to her mouth and stared at Albright. She lowered her hand a few centimeters at a time, then used it to brush back an annoying strand of hair from her face. "I have no idea where that outburst came from." "Stars, I do. Glad you got that out before you popped a vein." Albright's words only sounded concerned and caring now. Cat shook her head helplessly, embarrassed by her fit of temper, but oddly relieved at the same time once she got past the sense of panic and doom hovering around her. Moira bustled into the central chamber carrying three diagnostic medical packs. "Uhlein Chapter 10

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just contacted me. The Shania is docking. Her remaining crew is in dire need. The injured will likely not respond to standard medical methodology. To minimize further trauma and facilitate access, Uhlein personnel are setting up a triage in the bay adjoining the Shania." Years of ingrained training surfaced in Cat and took command, forced everything else temporarily into the background to be sorted through later. She threw off the burden of futility weighing her down and automatically grabbed a pack. She headed out of medical on a run, called over her shoulder to the other women, "Let's hit it!" In the station's docking bay, Cat's quick assessment of the senseless destruction of life raised her loathing and bitter anger against the Mallochons to new heights. Erosians−−all peace−loving, kind, generous, spiritual people−−surrounded her in the temporary triage. Their bodies, bathed in blood and gore, covered with forced plasma burns, broken and shattered, revealed the horrifying depths of Mallochon depravity. The moans of the dying, the stench of burned flesh and pooling blood screamed of Mallochon cruelty. Medical scanner clenched so tightly her knuckles hurt, Cat stopped and knelt next to the first victim she found with life signs. Such weak signs. To her left, a frenzied Albright struggled to establish a preservation field around a wounded man. In all likelihood, a fruitless effort, because the victims had gone so long Chapter 10

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between the injuries and help, but Albright persisted. Medical science could perform many miracles, but once the body degenerated beyond a certain point, nothing could sustain or restore life. Cat glanced over at Moira. The physician already touched her hand against another victim's temple, guiding the wounded woman into a healing rhapsody. Throat dry, Cat tried swallowing as she strove to find the guts to do the same as Moira. She worked at opening her mind enough to save lives. Enough to feel others die. She shivered with dread. Cat looked down at the man beside whom she knelt, touched his temple, closed her eyes and fought to subdue her terror. She strained to pry her mind open, to tear down the mental shields. As fast as she demolished portions of the barriers, allowing the victims' pain to leak into her awareness, the barricades rebuilt themselves. Each time the shields came back thicker, stronger, higher, darker than before. The grievously wounded man next to her expended precious life energy to comfort her by touching the side of her face with a trembling hand. "Thank you for trying. The gods smile upon you." Startled, Cat looked into the golden−hued eyes shadowed with so much pain. His eyes revealed understanding and compassion for her distress, as well. The realization humbled Chapter 10

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her, made her feel weak and insignificant. In one large, mind−rending burst, the mental barriers came tumbling down. The agony of all the victims rushed in, swept her away into their hellish suffering. Unprepared for the harsh onslaught, Cat doubled over. Her forehead struck the deck. She struggled to draw in a breath, fought to sort the overwhelming flood of emotions and physical sensations. Her natural coping mechanisms kicked in, filtering and segregating the sensory input. Only that reflex saved her sanity. Cat touched the fringes of the injured man's mind with hers, made a tenuous connection, guided him along the difficult path to his personal healing rhapsody. She moved on to the next wounded Erosian. The next. Then yet another, until time held no meaning for her. Only cheating death mattered. Five more of the Erosians died; a woman Cat held in her arms while the Erosian took her last breath; a man who pleaded with Cat to save his wife; three others before she could get to them. Each death haunted her, ripped out a piece of her heart, devastated a fragment of her soul. And strengthened her determination. Cat finally reached the end of the last row of wounded. She watched through fatigue−blurred eyes as the station's and ships' medical techs and doctors checked and Chapter 10

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rechecked the Erosians' vital signs. One technician gestured sharply for assistance. Moira sped to the tech's side, worked to restore the victim's rhapsody. Too enervated to stop her own weak momentum, Cat felt herself slump toward the deck in a slow disjointed tumble. Massive, sweetly familiar arms caught her. Wulfe lifted her, held her against his chest as he strode from the station's bay. Though he remained silent and grim−faced when she peered up at him, Cat sensed no animosity aimed in her direction. Only his curiosity, concern and unexpected tenderness reached her. For now, that would be enough. She pressed her face against the side of his neck, breathed in the wild, spicy man−scent. She allowed her body to move with his long−legged rhythm, let darkness close around her. Cat stirred from her daze when Wulfe eased her onto the bed. Their bed aboard the Falchion, some dim and distant corner of her mind realized. Her heart fluttered in weak response. Wulfe held a glass to her lips. "Drink. Wildfire brandy." She managed to open her eyes long enough to look into his, wanting nothing more than to stay lost within their dark depths. "No need for you to worry, Cat. I haven't poisoned the brandy. Much too good a year to ruin that way." Chapter 10

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"Ah, well, in that case." Cat sipped, swallowed, gasped as the fire exploded in her stomach. "Needed that." "Thought as much. Finish the ration." When she complied, Wulfe sat beside her, pillows propped behind his back. He pulled her to his chest, sheltered her in his arms. "Sleep, and regain your strength, for we have much yet to argue and settle between us, my wife. The days ahead will not be easy." "Wulfe−−" Funny. In her exhaustion, she'd mistaken his words to sound like he'd called her his wife. "Hush. Sleep. I command it." "Aye, my Lord." Cat melted against him, into him. At least he still seemed to believe they had some sort of future ahead of them. This one moment of contentment must satisfy her for now. She closed her eyes. "But only because I wish to do so."

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Chapter 11 FINALLY, WULFE thought, as he felt Cat's little body relax against his. With her soft breathing the only sound, the vision of what he'd witnessed in the station's triage replayed in his mind. The stark images haunted him. He'd seen Cat's initial reluctance, her obvious fear of committing herself to the ordeal of helping the Erosians, and had wondered why. Then he'd witnessed her overcome the panic, and the arduous result. He'd observed Cat and her perseverence, awed by her drive to help every victim she touched. He watched her grow paler after every session, appear frailer and more vulnerable with each death, until she'd given everything she had. Still, she offered more, draining her own energy until, too weak to stand, she literally crawled from patient to patient. Spellbound, he'd begun to comprehend some small part of the fear she had surmounted. Many times during those long hours, he'd struggled against the compulsion to go to Cat, stop her ministrations, but deep inside his heart, Wulfe understood she'd never forgive him if he did. The physicians not trained in Erosian techniques did whatever they could, but they didn't Chapter 11

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have the skills required for these patients. When every casualty had been tended, he blessed the Creator. Some inner knowledge or fear told him that even one more wounded Erosian would have been too much for Cat. One more attempt to save a life would have stolen the last of her life energy. That's when, despite the anger and resentment toward Cat and her deceptions, he'd known the final truth. Somehow, he'd lost days, weeks, months, possibly years with Cat, his ma'ten. Time he couldn't remember. The waste filled him with a profound regret, a grief so deep he couldn't put the pain into words, wouldn't know how, wouldn't dare try. With that revelation, he'd scooped Cat into his arms and brought her back here to his−−their−−bed. Wulfe studied the woman lying next to him. The dimness of the room emphasized the hollows under her cheekbones. He'd bet his last credit she hadn't managed more than an hour or two of sleep since the Mallochon attack on the Falchion. So dedicated to duty−−a thought that should be positive, but for some baffling reason left a bitter taste in his mouth. Cat shifted her position, moved closer to him. Even buried in her exhaustion, she sought contact with him. The last place she should be looking for comfort or protection. She'd be safer far away from him, beyond his reach. Chapter 11

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The temptation to claim his right as her husband seethed through him. The confusing urge to avenge himself for her deceptions simmered inside. The only question remaining was which wrong to address first: her failure to tell him they'd bonded or her neglect to inform him of his fatherhood status. Or had she wronged him? He found it difficult for his fuzzy mind to reconcile intentional wrongdoing with the dedication he'd witnessed in the triage. Cat draped one slim arm over his waist, a shapely leg over his thighs, then sighed softly. Wulfe's sigh echoed hers; his stemmed from resignation. No, Cat wasn't safe from him, not the way his body instinctively responded to her, but he'd tear apart anyone else who might try to harm her. The ultimate paradox, not without a bizarre twist of humor−−the hand of Sister Fate? As though from a great distance, Wulfe considered the truths he'd discovered in the last hours, striving to view them with objectiveness. An effect of Cat's presence, perhaps? After all, Bellons weren't exactly known for their impartiality. Sheer common sense dictated an intelligent woman such as this would have valid reasons for not telling him the truth. He only needed to find those explanations. Rationale versus justification. Logic versus action. Right. Traditionally, Bellons stressed action, not Chapter 11

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always the wisest course. The more he learned, the more he felt he'd forgotten, which in turn only increased his confusion and frustration. Cat's spicy scent, as much a part of her as the silky hair or honeyed skin, floated around him. She burrowed against him. The movement sent ripples of sensation and chaotic emotional reaction through him. When she brought her leg up to cover his groin, everything in him shifted again. His body instinctively reacted to Cat's nearness and touch, heating, hardening beneath her thigh−−his mate's thigh. That's when it hit him. The perfume that aroused him beyond endurance egressed from her tender skin rather than from some vial. No wonder he had believed he'd lost his sanity. His blood pounded more heavily with the knowledge that only he, as her bonded mate, could treasure the glorious scent so completely. Cat's thigh moved away. Her hand cupped around him. Her touch seared through uniform fabric right to the sensitive skin. Wulfe gulped in a breath meant to fortify his resistance to her, but the inhalation only embedded her scent deeper in him, aroused him to another level, fanned the wildfire incinerating him. He caught her hand, eased it away. Cat stirred against him. "No," she murmured, and slipped her hand around his arousal again. Chapter 11

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His manhood all but leapt into her grasp. Wulfe grinned through the roaring in his ears, nuzzled his lips to her temple. "You're exhausted. You need sleep, ma'ten." "Need you more." She stroked him while a throaty purr of Bellon invitation came from the back of her throat. Garesh! He'd never have the strength to ignore the inducement! Groaning, he clenched his teeth and tried to shut off the sensations to his body and completely failed. The groan of someone in pain pulled her to awareness. Cat came awake to find herself embraced in arms of flame, her bones already languid from the heat, while tension coiled deep in her belly. Something hard and hot and thick filled her hand. It took her a second and a half to realize what she held. She surged up and over, straddled Wulfe before he could stop her. Cat brushed the fingers of her right hand against his temple, hoping beyond hope−−he'd just called her his ma'ten! "Do you remember me as your mate?" "No," he answered hoarsely. His hands encircled her waist, his fingers pressed into her spine, his thumbs rested in the indentation of her navel. "I only know that you are." "Then rediscover me. Reclaim me." Her pulse raced while she awaited his response. Wulfe's hands glided up her rib cage, his fingers working cleverly to release the closures Chapter 11

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of her shirt until they found the undersides of her breasts. He cupped them, tested the weight and texture. Bit by bit, he eased her uniform top back until he could follow her collarbone with his tongue, nip her shoulders while he pushed the fabric down her arms. Cat moaned, unable to contain the growing sound. She worked Wulfe's shirt open until she could bury her fingers in his chest hair, scrape her nails down his ribs. The muscles in his drum−tight stomach vibrated beneath her palms. Cat leaned forward, rubbed herself against his rigid arousal. She nipped his hardened nipples. "Remember me yet?" "No." Wulfe grasped the waist of her trousers and ripped them away, shredding seams and fastenings. "But I will," he growled, "that I vow. Aah," his breath caught on a sound of wonder and rough desire, "you wear my bonding chains." Cat revelled in the savage she'd released. She gloried in the way his hands and mouth and tongue traced the contours of her arms, her torso. She rejoiced in how he licked each individual rib with devoted attention. Wulfe clasped his hands around her waist, lifted her up and forward until he kissed the inside of her thighs. Centimeter by centimeter, he lowered her to him. He licked and nipped his way upward along a scalding trail until his tongue plunged into her wet heat. A shimmer began deep inside her. The scintillation coiled, heated, vibrated ever Chapter 11

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outward, until she transformed into an exploding pinwheel and careened through space. With a rush of possessive joy, Wulfe supported her slight weight when she collapsed onto his chest. He stroked her back to still the trembling that coursed through her sweet body. When he'd discovered the bonding chains around her waist and thighs−−an exact match to his necklace−−the golden links had been the final confirmation needed. He and Cat were bonded, stronger together than apart. Now if only his mind could remember what his body clearly knew, for he ached for her until he thought he'd go mad. Cat's breathing slowed to normal. "Mmhm," she murmured against his neck. "For not remembering, you sure know what buttons to push...and tease." She reached down between their bodies, undid his waistband. "Your turn, my Lord." He growled a warning in her ear. "I want nothing more than to bury myself in you, but−−" "I'm not tired," Cat argued while she worked his trousers down with feverish jerks. She moved against him until the slickness between her legs glided against his aching hardness. "I insist." He fought to master himself, control his laboring heart. "I need to bury myself in you," he ran his hands over her body, cupped her bottom, kneaded, lifted, pulled her against him, Chapter 11

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"hard and slow and deep until you scream my name." "Oh, yes! Yes!" "Gods," he groaned with painful frustration, "I'm−−you're so tiny−−I can't." "Damn!" Cat nipped his bottom lip. "Hear me! I am Bellon! I've taken you−−all of you−−more times than the Creator has made stars, and I want you again. Now! Would you have me beg?" With a guttural cry, Wulfe rolled them over. Cat wrapped her legs around his hips. He drove into her, almost the way he'd promised−−hard and deep, but fast and frenzied. She met and matched his pounding rhythm until she screamed his name, and together, they spiraled through the Celestial Glory. Minutes−−hours−−it could have been eons later−−Wulfe stretched, one weakened limb at a time, so he wouldn't wake Cat, and adjusted the pillows behind him. Such a glorious union. How had he ever forgotten such bliss? He couldn't believe this had been a fluke, but had every joining been so blazingly passionate? One reaching hand discovered something small, hard and oval beneath one of the cushions. He pulled out the object. Bellon wulfenite, the dark amber crystal faceted to catch and reflect the merest hint of light. A memory stone. Chapter 11

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Wulfe scowled. Memory stone? From where had that notion originated? To whom did the crystal belong and how had the stone found its way into his bed? He would never lay claim to something so useless, even if the memory stone lore came directly from the First Ones. He half−suspected the myth originated in an adulterated story involving ancient data crystals. In reality, a person stored memories worth keeping in the heart, treasured them in the soul. A wise man simply discarded memories of no value. Some unidentified emotion twisted within his chest, made him look at Cat's peaceful face. One must always assume a vast difference between discarding and losing. Which had he done? The questions remained unanswered, but the crystal in some way instilled a sense of...familiarity, of...rightness. Wulfe squeezed his fist around the stone. Memories retained in the heart and soul could explain some of the feelings coursing through him, but remembering them with his mind would go a long way to making him more comfortable. Had he lost memories or wantonly and cruelly discarded them? Intentionally tossed away tokens of his yesterdays? Wulfe closed his eyes, pressed his head into the pillow and willed himself to sleep. His mind drifted, grew hazier. Images floated. Blackwood's seduction attempt...Cat taking on Chapter 11

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Blackwood...the glimmer of bonding chains...Cat speaking to the babe...the babe...darkness claimed him. CAT GRADUALLY came out of her light sleep as she lay next to Wulfe. Her head rested on his chest, and she listened to his breath reach the tempo of deep sleep. She moved enough to see his face relax, then felt his body go limp beside her. Cat maneuvered her way out of his arms with slow cautious movements. Even in sleep, he reached for her. She placed a pillow carrying her scent against his side and whispered assurances until his arm uneasily accepted the replacement. If he awoke now, would he welcome her presence or regret it? She couldn't face the last shattering blow to her pride if his eyes held anything but warmth. Not now, not yet. She needed something to cover herself for the short walk to her own quarters. Cat deliberately chose a shirt Wulfe wore when off duty, taking it from the back of the chair. The white fabric encased her in softness down to her calves, surrounded her with his masculine scent. She rolled the sleeves back a good six times to have use of her hands. Then she left him dreaming. Cat hesitated in front of the shower in her private quarters, reluctant to wash Wulfe's Chapter 11

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scent from her body. The musky scent so uniquely Wulfe elated her and tormented her at the same time. Even after the glorious union of their bodies, their minds still did not touch. Grief cut through her, moved her to step into the sonic stream. Cat stepped out of the shower, pulled on her robe. The exhilaration of their lovemaking left her body feeling pleasantly sated, but now completely exhausted, especially on top of little sleep and then the healing sessions among the horror of the Erosian survivors. Her body demanded food to replenish energy reserves. The weight of depression began to weigh her down now, too. She'd said goodbye to the children hours ago, minutes before Albright summoned her to sickbay to tell her of the Erosian ship and the plight of the unfortunate crew. Those hours already seemed a lifetime away. Her arms ached to hold Garrett. She longed to see Morgan's sparkling eyes, hear her infectious giggle. Only knowing she'd entrusted her children to Cass and Hawke kept her from dropping everything to rush after them. It was hard to keep Albright's warnings in her mind. Only complete trust in the doctor kept her from telling Wulfe everything about the children in a selfish attempt to ease the load of the burden she carried. Albright's directive that Wulfe must remember on his own had to be based in sound medical reasoning. The chief medical officer rarely took chances Chapter 11

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with the lives of others, and then only if she believed in the risk. Cat paused. Emotions emanated from the hundreds of people around her on the ship, hummed about the periphery of awareness. The subliminal perception felt right and comfortable. The return of the ability was more than welcome, even if it meant the extra work and energy required to keep her mental shields raised. The bizarre psychic silence she'd experienced beginning with the Mallochon attack had unnerved and disoriented her, made her edgy and uncertain. Now, if only she could reform that deep, emotional link with Wulfe. She'd hoped their lovemaking would cross the barrier, but that void still loomed like an uncrossable chasm. Cat moved into the living area, retrieved a serving of fruits, breads and Bellon coffee from the dispenser, took the tray to her desk. Better to keep busy than to dwell on what couldn't be repaired at the moment. One leg curled under her in the chair, she scrolled through the waiting messages before she braided her hair. All but one of the treated Erosian crew members survived. Cat offered silent blessings for those recovering, then a remembrance for the horribly burned woman who had passed during the night. Her stomach gave a sick little lurch when thoughts of the burned Erosian woman reminded Cat of being caught in the Falchion's exploding science lab last year. Her own Chapter 11

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burns and shattered bones, as well as the tragic death of her young assistant, had been compliments of a Mallochon agent. The Mallochons! Their foulness corrupted everything with which they came into contact. They destroyed what they couldn't possess. Another message informed her Xiang−−the pilot who'd taunted Blackwood−−had finished the teardown and rebuild of his fighter and waited for her orders to target the furies. Hmm. Incredibly fast work. She'd believe the status when she saw the tech's verifying mark. Cat decided Xiang could wait until the start of day watch. Less than three hours until oh−six−hundred. The coffee and food got her through several inconsequential log entries, notations and standard reports. Then, when the messages had been answered or logged, she allowed herself the absolute luxury of remembering the sensation of Wulfe's arms around her, his fiery touch, their wondrous joining, lying next to him. Finally seeing the lines of worry slip from his handsome face as he sank even further into slumber, she'd known she could relax, too, if only for a bit. Cat hugged the feelings to herself. Perhaps she'd been cowardly to slip away while he slept, but the prospect of seeing Wulfe wake and possibly seeing regret darken his face had driven her away. Right now, she preferred to hold fast to the illusion that their physical Chapter 11

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union would set things right. In a perfect universe, Wulfe would be thrilled to have her there after making love, but she'd learned the universe to be anything but perfect. Until he remembered everything, his reactions could be devastatingly inverse to what they should be. A shiver, rudely cold, took her by surprise, rippled through her. With deliberate care, Cat lifted a corner of her mental barriers, as though dipping a toe in to test heating waters. Varied emotions leaked in, all dominated by one in particular−−even without the link, her empathic ability couldn't miss these hot emotions. Volatile, towering rage. Familiar, scorching fury. Holy Creator! Wulfe on the warpath, bent on vengeance. The waters had come to a full boil. WULFE STIFFENED; the chills that sprinted over his body wrestled his groggy mind from sleep. The haunting nightmare image stayed with him and struck him like a backhanded blow to the face. Cat in an infirmary bed, battered, unconscious, stripped of the life her womb had carried. The treacherous little deli' had gambled with the life of his unborn son and lost the dishonorable wager without so much as a discernable glimmer of remorse. Now he knew why he'd Abandoned her! Chapter 11

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He closed a vengeful arm around empty air. Gone while he slept! Wulfe bellowed his fury, tore from the bed. He jerked on his trousers, charged out of his rooms and down the corridor. He hammered on the door to Cat's quarters. The door whisked open and he stormed inside. "Wulfe!" She stared wide−eyed just long enough. She moved to dash around him. He snared Cat by the back of her robe. The lightweight silk split and tore in his maddened grasp. He got a firm grip on her. "You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you." Cat fought to escape him like the she−devil he now knew her to be. "Let go of me! Are you crazy?" She aimed a kick at his knee that he barely avoided. "What the bloody hell's wrong with you?" He shook her, clamped her flailing arms to her sides. "I remember, Garesh take you. I know!" Cat went boneless in his grip, sank to the floor. She slid out of the torn robe until only the wild mass of hair covered her. That and the bonding chains she had the gall to still wear around her narrow waist and strong thighs. "Everything?" Something that resembled hope flared in her eyes. More than likely, hope Chapter 11

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that he wouldn't destroy her. "I know more than enough! You defied me and that defiance and disobedience killed my son. I Abandoned you to your own shame and dishonor. What the narg are you doing here on my ship? Haven't you inflicted enough misery into my life?" "Apparently not." Her face went strangely expressionless, but her eyes stayed wide with an odd glitter. "What else do you remember?" Suspicion flared in him, triggered by the hurtful memories. "There's more? What other dishonorable−−?" Reality slammed into him and collided with his pride and sense of honor. With the crippling force of a plasma torpedo, the breath whooshed from his lungs. She'd almost had him believing! "The babe!" "What−−what about him?" Wulfe yanked her to her feet. "You dishonored my House by birthing another man's son!" He shoved her away. Rage blazed through his veins. "Did you think a romp in bed would make me ignore the past? Did you believe your womanly wiles would lead me to think we've been together all this time? By all the gods, Cat−−whose chain did you wear around your swollen belly to lengthen the reach?" He seized the chain around his neck. Links snapped, flew. He held the necklace away Chapter 11

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from his body for her to see. "It sure as narg wasn't this one! I would remember something like that!" "No! That's not tr−−" Cat bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Albright's repeated warnings trapped the denial, the truth, in her throat until she thought she'd choke. "Garesh take that damnable Lyon. No wonder you two have been so cozy. He's the one! To think I named him friend." Wulfe threw bits of necklace across the room, stalked toward the door. "When I get my hands on that miserable son of a curra−−" he spared Cat one last disgusted look, "−−he won't dishonor another House in the same manner!"

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Chapter 12 CAT RACED after Wulfe. She skewed to a stop in the corridor when she realized she wore no clothing. "Damn!" She dashed back into her quarters and shouted from the doorway, "Wulfe! Come back here! Wait! Blast you to the Underworld! Frak!" She whirled around, sprinted to the bedroom, skimmed into leather pants and a vest. "Computer, locate Captain Kincade." Captain Kincade is on deck five, corridor fourteen. Mess hall, gym, rec center. Where the bloody hell was he headed? How determined was he? Cat clipped on her comm tag. "Location of Lieutenant Lyon?" Lieutenant Lyon is in the deck five gymnasium. Oh, for Creator's sake! Cat tore down the corridor to a lift, darted inside. As big and physically strong as Lyon might be, Wulfe possessed more size and power. "Come on!" she exhorted the lift to move faster. Add rage, fueled by bloodlust, to Wulfe's brawn−−Cat shuddered to think of the damage that could result. "Comeoncomeoncomeon!" She bolted from the lift car, tore across the corridor. She skidded through the gym doorway. A bloodied and unconscious−looking Lyon slid down the vertical surface of a Chapter 12

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bulkhead. Wulfe towered over Lyon, reached for him with a blood−reddened hand. Cat panicked. "Stop it!" "Back off, Cat," Wulfe almost snarled at her, motioned to her with the bloodstained hand. "Don't say a word." "Or what? You'll try to put me through a bulkhead, too? Use an airlock−−it's easier." She moved between Wulfe and Lyon. "You have no idea how tempting that suggestion is or how thrilled I'd be. Get out of my way. This is my right." "Now's a fine time to claim your bloody rights. Lyon is not the father of my son or my daughter." She shoved at Wulfe without much effect−−might as well try to shove a stubborn, swine−headed mountain. "I should take your word?" "Yes, narg it, but have Albright do a DNA scan if you don't believe me." "So you've turned my own CMO to your side, too." "There are no defending sides to this, only the truth!" A hundred different accusations, laments and truths threatened to spill from her. Cat gritted her teeth. Blurting out too much too soon could still do greater harm to Wulfe's mind than good. Sweet Creator, I need Chapter 12

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strength! Better to have Wulfe take out his anger on her than some innocent friend. "Is that what you were doing a few hours ago? Claiming your rights?" She knew their joining had been more than that. She'd felt all his wondrous emotions, but her challenge might keep him off Lyon. "That's exactly what I did, wife. No more, no less." "Garesh take you, Wulfe!" Cat knelt next to Lyon, checked for a pulse, found one. Lyon's glazed eyes opened, closed again. Satisfied, she tapped her comm tag and hurriedly requested a med team from sickbay. She shot a condemning glare at her husband. "You're lucky you didn't kill him, Wulfe. Mykal Lyon is one of the most loyal friends you have in the universe. He's risked his life, his career, and his reputation for you. Nice repayment." Wulfe did snarl this time, his lip curling upward in a savage expression. "Is that what you think?" "Should I be thinking anything else in view of this?" Cat gestured sharply to the downed security officer. So very carefully, so very deliberately, Cat moved to place herself more directly in front of Wulfe. Maybe she could slow him down if he attacked Lyon again. "Think what you will, Cat. You always did, if I recall that correctly." Chapter 12

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"I'd hate to see what you'd do to a person who truly had betrayed you." "You will see, firsthand, I assure you." Wulfe watched her without blinking, radiating disgust and resentment. "I'll leave you to him, Cat−−for now. Do not make the mistake of thinking this is settled between us. You haven't even begun to pay a fraction of the price for your treachery." He turned away. Two steps later, Wulfe whirled around to face her, his eyes narrowed with determination. "Start making travel plans, Cat. You don't belong on my ship." "Want to bet?" she asked softly of his rigid departing back. Cat checked Lyon's breathing, slumped to the floor to await the medical team. "Commander, it's not what−−" Lyon rasped out, then coughed. "Don't talk. That's an order. Just lie still." Logically, she understood Wulfe's reactions, but emotionally...how many times must she endure the same nightmare? What did the Creator want from her? Her mother always claimed the Creator never gave a person more than she was strong enough to bear. If that was the case, she didn't want to be strong. Cat checked Lyon's pulse again, wanted to straighten his body to a more comfortable position, but was afraid to move him in case something had been broken. She saw him wet Chapter 12

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his lips, and she shook her head. "I said not a word." She hadn't lost that first babe because she'd defied Wulfe and gone to Wikkerd, or because of any carelessness while there. If anything, the spontaneous miscarriage of the deformed fetus almost caused her death in the midst of Wikkerd's rubble. Renewed grief for the lost babe churned inside her, along with a less honorable reawakened resentment toward Wulfe. The medical team arrived and quickly determined Lyon could be safely moved. Cat followed them back to sickbay, worrying the entire way over Lyon's condition and her part in it. If she'd handled Wulfe differently, this wouldn't have happened; Lyon would be uninjured. Surprised to find Albright in medical, Cat waited for the verdict on the security chief's condition. "Your pacing through sickbay will not hurry the process or change the prognosis," Moira informed Cat in a neutral voice. "Keeps me from wrapping my hands around the captain's ungrateful, arrogant neck," Cat shot back. Her black hair pulled back in the usual austere bun, Moira watched her for another moment. "You're able to sense emotions again, aren't you? Is the empathic ability Chapter 12

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remaining stable?" "Pretty much." At least she could count on that again. "And the bond with the captain?" Cat shook her head, more than eager to change the painful subject. "How did Nora come to be here this time of night?" Moira looked uncomfortable for the first time. "Doctor Albright left standing orders to be notified about anything regarding you or the captain. This seemed to qualify." "With good reason, from the looks of it," Albright said, entering the central area. "Moira, you can go back to the station and check on our patients there, if you'd like. Catherine, what happened to the lieutenant?" "Wulfe. How bad is Mykal?" "Our Mister Lyon will recover without complications. He's under the autohealer right now. Why did Wulfe happen to him?" Cat sent a few silent blessings to the Creator for the good news. Wulfe could have inflicted more severe damage, given a few extra seconds. She trailed the doctor into her office and gave Albright a rundown on the events. Albright leaned back in her chair, propped her feet up on her desk. "Catherine, the fact Chapter 12

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that the captain is beginning to remember anything is marvelous news. Though I wish he wouldn't batter the personnel so. Tough on morale." "Oh, it's bloody wonderful news. So far, he's remembered the worst possible event. The last few months might just as well have never happened. Wulfe knows he Abandoned me, but not that we've reconciled. He doesn't even realize it wasn't my fault that I lost the first baby." Nor did he realize she'd kept the truth of the babe's deformity from him to save his pride, his warrior honor. He didn't know the agony she had gone through−−the double loss of her son and her husband. Cat bit her bottom lip to keep the laments inside. Whining self−pity accomplished nothing. "That will change. He'll remember the good, too." "Oh, sure." "Suppose you tell me what happened between Lyon and the captain. Maybe I can be a trifle more objective." "Mykal is in the shape he's in because Wulfe challenged the honorless of'al who he believed to have sullied the honor of his House by impregnating his legal wife." "Oh, my stars." Chapter 12

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"That's not exactly what I said." Cat held her thumb and forefinger a few centimeters apart. "My language was a touch more vile." She moved both hands apart, indicating a much vaster−−and honest−−distance. "I don't blame you. Stars, but the captain is going to feel rotten when he discovers the truth. At least he knows now that he's married to you. I just hope Lyon accepts his apology." "What apology?" Cat let out a short, sharp laugh. "You forget, Bellons don't apologize." "Oh, that bit of asinine business. I don't know how you cope. Doesn't the Earther side of you ever want to choke a 'please' or strangle an 'I'm sorry' out of one of them?" "The thought has crossed my mind more than once, but in all honesty, I can't remember if I've ever apologized to anyone." "Probably not to another Bellon, I'm sure. Catherine, how do you plan to handle this Lyon situation?" Bloody good question. Now if she only had the answer. Cat sat on the edge of the desk next to Albright's feet. "I suppose telling Wulfe the whole truth is still out of the question?" Her shoulders sagged and her back bowed, tired of carrying the weight of deception. "Assuming he'd believe me at this point." Chapter 12

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"You know we can't." "What if I tried to force my way into his mind? I detest the thought of such a violation, even if I somehow managed to succeed. But if you believe it might work, I'd consider the option." Albright ran a hand through her hair, giving new dimension to the spikes. "The shock could send the captain into complete reversal and further denial." "That doesn't sound so bad at the moment." "Revealed too soon, the information might create catatonia. A personality splinter. Withdrawal. Perhaps, overt aggression." Cat groaned. "I think we've done the aggression part already." "Moira suggested an archaic method once called hypnotism. The patient is made to feel safe and then regressed to the triggering incident with the hope he remembers spontaneously." Cat shook her head, defeated yet again. "The chances that would work are even slimmer than any psychotropic drug succeeding. Bellons were bioengineered to resist all such methods on the off chance they'd be taken as prisoners of war." "Didn't know that. I'm out of ideas." Chapter 12

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"So I have to keep the truth from Wulfe and stop him from confronting Mykal again." "Hmm. You know, this has me wondering about something." "What? How sane Bellons really are?" Gods, don't make this more bad news. "I've always puzzled over that one. Seriously, I wonder why the captain would challenge Lyon if he wasn't at least a little jealous and feeling possessive?" "Wulfe is Bellon. Honor is all, remember?" "Don't exaggerate, Catherine." "I wish I were. If nothing else, this last year must have proven the fact to you. That reminds me; Wulfe thinks you've taken my side in this mess." Albright paled slightly but shrugged her shoulders in dismissal. "Let him believe what he wants for now. In fact, the captain's jealousy just might be our ticket out of this strange little corner of purgatory in which we've found ourselves." "Say again." Had the doctor learned nothing? She'd seen the results of a Bellon's rage firsthand. "So far, the captain's strongest reaction has been jealousy, an emotion that came right on top of him whisking you off when you collapsed over on Uhlein. A protective and somewhat possessive reaction to you putting yourself in danger. Seems to me the actions Chapter 12

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are closely related. This is very interesting. Maybe we can make use of these volatile emotions." "Nora, I like you and your quirky sense of adventure, but sometimes you scare the bloody hell out of me." Albright brightened. "Why, thank you very much." "I'm not joking! Trying to control a Bellon's emotions for a specific purpose is as dangerous as attempting to confine an exploding star. At least when a star explodes, it happens so fast you don't feel the pain." "Maybe, but I still think his reactions are saying volumes." "But are they shouting the right things?" Her insecurities latched on to that possibility, naturally. Cat couldn't keep hope from trickling through her, despite her pessimism. "A clue? Help me out, here." "Okay. We pretty much agree that shock and strong emotion created the problem. Strong emotions may be the natural cure. Right now, short of me going in with a surgiprobe and playing Twenty Queries or a little Hide and Hunt with his neural pathways, I'd say they're our best shot." "I am not encouraged." Cat thought back to the scene she'd encountered in the Chapter 12

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gymnasium. As horrified as she'd been by Wulfe's retaliation against Lyon, some little corner of her mind nagged at her, as if someone kept trying to whisper, but she couldn't hear the words. She had a hard time accepting what she'd seen. "May I talk to Mykal?" "Let him sleep through what's left of the night, and he should be fit for duty come day watch." Albright yawned. "Think I'll follow my own advice. You should, too, Catherine." "I slept for a while." Warmth suffused Cat's body as she remembered waking in Wulfe's arms, and the result. Gods, she'd missed him. She missed her life, period. She crossed her arms over her upper body and winced. Stars, but her breasts hurt. Albright passed a small bioscanner in front of her before she could blink. "Let's give you something to take care of the lactation problem. When the Shania got here, I forgot." Cat nodded her agreement and allowed the doctor to use her autoinjector. Her stomach tightened in reaction to the act of finality. The children really were gone. Albright used the bioscanner again. "Catherine, remember when you asked about Wheeler's attitude? The fluctuating moods?" "Yes, though I'm surprised you do. You didn't seem to take me too seriously." Albright looked ill at ease, put away the scanner. "I knew you were right, but I figured with Wheeler leaving, there was no point in exacerbating the situation." Chapter 12

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"So what's the point now?" Albright pushed a hand into a trouser pocket and pulled out a palm full of small vials. "This is the point. Housekeeping found them when they went through Wheeler's quarters after he left the ship." Cat took one of the dark green vials. A single−use autoinjector formed the cap. "Is this what I think it is?" "Endorphidrine. One of the most addictive synthetic mood enhancers known, and almost impossible to detect even if you know exactly what to look for." "This explains the emotional swings I felt from him. Maybe that's why Wheeler came back to the Falchion earlier. He claimed he wanted to retrieve a keepsake of his mother's." The doctor nodded. "Probably didn't think of the evidence until it was too late. Right now, he's probably hoping housekeeping simply tossed the mess. I have to report this in my medical log." "I know. I'll make an entry in my executive log. Then it's up to Command to do something. I'm glad I got Fallon away from Wheeler. How long do you think he's been using this garbage?" "Hard to say without extensive testing, but I'd say several weeks at least. If it's been Chapter 12

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longer, paranoia isn't far away. He could believe the entire universe is out to get him. Or a particular person is out to get his job." Cat expelled a quick breath. "His reaction to me? Could explain a lot." "I could be whistling in the void." Albright nodded to the exit. "You going to get some sleep?" "I have a few things to do on the flight deck before the start of day watch." "You're going to run yourself right into complete collapse if you're not careful." "We just need to get by this hump. Now that the children are safe, I can catch up with all the tasks I've put on hold. Then I'll be able to sleep a full night watch through." "You'd better, or I'll demand a medical leave for you." CAT SHARED the flight bay with a handful of techs while she reviewed the pilots' activities. What spare time she'd managed to eke out, she'd spent flying with the new pilots. Now she watched highlights of their training flights they'd taken with Lyon and with each other, assessing their weaknesses as well as their strong points. They'd made noteworthy progress. Under the activity and concentration, a growing sense of unease invaded Cat. At first she Chapter 12

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put the feeling down to Wulfe. Somehow she'd believed a session of lovemaking would put all things right, but the truth loomed light−years beyond that. Then, little by little, she came to feel the disquiet stemmed from something else. Something to do with the children? Unable to rid herself of the feeling, she left a message for Cass at the Burnelle compound on Bellona, then tried to bury herself in duty. A few moments before the official start of day watch, Mykal Lyon strode his way into the fighter bay. He stopped, had a few words with a technician, then continued toward Cat. "Good morning, Commander." "I'm surprised you can call it good. Mykal, about what happened in the gym...I'm not sure what to say, other than−−" Lyon shook his head. A cryptic smile appeared on his face. "The incident has come to a conclusion. My only regret is that the episode came to your attention." Cat checked his face for signs of lingering injury, found nothing. "Albright does good work." "Indeed she does." "I wish the situation hadn't escalated to blows." Lyon shrugged. "Better blows than sidearm fire, which−−" Chapter 12

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"−−is harder to dodge," they finished together, then both laughed, at ease with one another. "Mykal, did you have an opportunity to scavenge and hoard the list of items from the refitting being done to the Falchion?" "Every bit. Most of the items had been slated for reprocessing. I found a corner in one of the cargo bays, stashed everything in drums." "Good." "Commander, if you put this collection of junk together−−" "Yes, Mykal?" Cat grinned in reaction to the puzzlement in his green eyes. "You have a collection of junk." "Precisely. Now I think I've decided what to do with it." "And that would be?" "I want all the scrap material stored between the inner, true hull and the outer hull of my fighter. Rig a shrouding device powered by the replicated plunarium to the outer hull." Lyon didn't look puzzled anymore. He looked shocked. "The replicated crystal explodes if you power with it!" "That's what I'm counting on. You can install the systems, can't you, and keep it a Chapter 12

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secret?" "I can, certainly. But the reasoning escapes me." "I have a gut feeling I'm going to need an extra pawn in this game." Cat watched the flight crews' progress as they filed in. A niggling little thread of worry crept into her consciousness. Something, somewhere, didn't feel right, but she couldn't put a name or occurrence to what bothered her. The flight personnel assembled into straight lines and fell silent. She noticed a pilot missing from one of the flight squads. "Lieutenant Lyon, I believe we're short a pilot." "Aye. Manahan won't be flying this morning. He had a slight...accident and is unable to report." "How serious?" "He will live, Commander," Lyon said without inflection. Cat sharpened her focus on Lyon. Had to be bad for a Bellon not to report for duty. "Something I should know about Manahan?" "No, Ma'am. As I said, he will mend. I ordered him to stay in his quarters for the watch." "I see." A reprimand, then. So be it. "If the situation changes, or if you decide I should know more..." Chapter 12

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"Aye, Commander." Lyon, as the fighter crews' immediate superior, began the pilot evaluation. "Most of you have managed to make your fighter an extension of yourself. You need that connection to stay alive, to keep your comrades alive. I have a few points I'd like to make, however, so pay attention. I won't repeat myself." The uneasiness and uncertainty Cat felt earlier faded to the background as a new tendril of emotion edged into her awareness. She paced between the crew members, but couldn't identify the person radiating a sense of resentment and rivalry. When the feelings changed to a slow, simmering anger, she recognized the undercurrent. Wulfe watched them from somewhere, probably the higher observation deck. Lyon finished. Cat took over the review, stopping in front of each crewman as she made specific comments. "Fortier, you're still too hesitant. A two−second delay can get you or your wing partners killed. Do us all a favor and spend an extra hour practicing the basic maneuvers. You'll be fine once you can do them in your sleep." "Aye, Commander." Cat gave several favorable evaluations until she stood in front of Blackwood. She'd considered this one carefully and in the end decided she could be fair. "Blackwood, you follow the pack. With your instincts, you should be out front, a leader." Chapter 12

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"Commander?" Cat gave the female a narrow−eyed look. "If you stay where you belong−−both in and out of your fighter−−you're going to make one Underworld of a pilot, Blackwood." "Ma'am, yes, Ma'am." The look of surprise on Blackwood's face lost to an expression of reserved pleasure. Cat moved on, said something to all fifty−five of the pilots present, and most of the tech crews. One of the last, Xiang, held her attention. "You're a flasher, Xiang. I don't care for flashers." "A what?" Lyon shouldered his way into Xiang's line of vision, came up against Cat's outstretched arm. "You say: A what, Commander? You read me, Pilot?" "Aye, Sir," Xiang acknowledged Lyon's reprimand. "I'm a what, Commander?" "A flasher. You know precisely what I mean. I understand you've completed your teardown and rebuild assignment." "Yes, Ma'am." "Who's the tech who checked your work? Where is he?" "Sebring, Ma'am, and he won't be on duty for two more hours. Sebring worked night Chapter 12

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watch, Commander." Xiang held a handcom out toward Cat. "This is the authorization." Before Cat could take the unit from him, her comm tag chirped. "Culver." 'You have an incoming message from Bellona, Commander.' Cat hesitated, her mouth going dry. She wanted to take the message, feared something had happened to the children. "Is the transmission tagged as an emergency?" 'No, Ma'am. Standard reply only.' Her stomach unknotted and Cat allowed a small breath of relief to flow outward. Still edgy, she responded, "Log the message into my personal system for later retrieval, Seleen." 'Aye.' Cat turned her attention back to the flight teams. "Listen up, people. The lieutenant and I are both going to fly with you. Xiang, you get to chase your furies. Anyone not scrambled in the next five minutes doesn't fly today." The crews broke rank with whoops and war cries. Cat and Lyon followed them toward the pilots' locker rooms, dealt with last minute orders and gave instructions to Xiang. Amid the general clatter of twenty−some women skimming in and out of clothing in the locker room, Blackwood approached Cat. "You were generous in your evaluation, Commander." Chapter 12

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"Don't you think you deserved it?" Blackwood smiled briefly, sealed her suit. "Yes, Ma'am, I believe so. I didn't expect something so favorable, is all. You're an honorable officer." Cat watched her walk away, then finished pulling on her flight suit. Blackwood would make a leader, a good one, and soon. Cat exited the locker room, began to cross the flight deck. She completed the final adjustments to her suit, gave some of the tabs a tug here, a pull there, tightening the soft, protective fabric to her body. When she cleared the observation deck, she turned and looked upward. Shadows enclosed the upper observation deck, but she knew Wulfe still watched them, hidden in the dimness. The emotions fermenting in him−−jealousy, resentment, the same riot of contrasts−−sent out an identifiable aura. With a casual movement, she opened the top of her suit, reached inside as though making a minor adjustment, providing him with an eyeful of her breasts. The gesture, prompted by sheer devilment, would seem innocent enough. After all, she'd turned her back to the scrambling crews to protect her modesty. Let him wonder. While the pilots checked in with their preflight verifications, Cat set up the exercises so she and Lyon could observe everyone's targeting accuracy and maneuvering abilities. Chapter 12

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Xiang alone would take a separate sector of surrounding space to bring down a handful of armed furies. Once launched, she and Lyon linked back and forth on a private channel, pointing out the flaws and brilliance of the pilots observed and made notes for their reviews. Then, in the middle of the session, Xiang's young, terrified voice came over the general link. 'I can't stop it! The last fury is on me and I can't target! My computer's off−line! Shut it down! Shut it down! My weapons won't fire!' "We're on our way," Cat answered, immediately setting her fighter for a new course. A glance at her readouts told her Lyon flew at her left wing. Seconds later, she saw Xiang's fighter pull a loop as he panicked, trying to evade the fury. "No! Pull back! Allow it to bypass, then you target and fire manually. Xiang! Pull back! Pull back!" The fury locked on Xiang and released its deadly pulse before she could target. The direct hit blew the craft, Xiang and his copilot into oblivion. A second later, Lyon destroyed the fury. All comm chatter went dead as everyone absorbed what had happened. Cat's ears rang with the silence.

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Chapter 13 WULFE STORMED onto the main level of the flight deck. Adrenalin surged through his body in a mighty rush. The way Cat had charged to Xiang's rescue−−gods, the fury could have killed her before anyone else had the chance to act in her defense. His heart triphammered like a faulty pulse cannon. He couldn't take the stress of her presense without doing her in himself. She had to go! He wanted her off his ship! Lyon climbed out of the Wildchild, took a fast, appraising look at Wulfe. Wulfe simply stared in return. Lyon snapped a command to the agitated flight crews milling around in confusion. "Find something worthwhile to do. Now!" The air pressure in the bay fluctuated, then returned to normal as Cat's fighter−−the last to return−−whooshed in and settled to the deck plates with a conspicuous, ungraceful thud. Cat emerged, her movements stiff and halting. The honey−bronze color of her face had vanished to be replaced by a stark ashen shade that momentarily cooled Wulfe's anger. Lyon moved to stand between him and Cat. "Captain−−" "Stay out of this Lieutenant. I suggest you find something worthwhile to do, too, unless Chapter 13

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you enjoy being caught in a crossfire." Wulfe stalked toward Cat, the breath hot and raspy in the back of his throat. "What the narg do you think you were doing?" She loosened her tight collar with a shaking hand. "Instruct−−" "You make one nargging poor instructor. I ought to teach you more than one lesson! Something you won't soon forget." Cat came toe to toe with him. "If you can do better with the flight crews, do it or get off my back!" "You incompetent little fool! Your disregard for life−−" "Nothing you bloody well say to me is going to change what happened out there. Even you don't have that much power!" "You doing a simple preflight check on Xiang's craft would have saved his life! You allowed something to distract you!" "Don't you think I know that?" Cat screamed the question at him. Color flooded her face. Her fist battered the center of his chest in bruising thuds. Her wild−eyed stare challenged him, his authority, his dominance. Cat's defiance knifed through his defenses, carved away the armor shielding explosive emotions. One Chapter 13

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backhanded blow to silence her. Or one punishing kiss. "Captain," a faraway voice intruded and severed the tentative connection that seemed to be trying to form with Cat. "Captain?" Wulfe jerked his gaze from Cat. Relief and exasperation jockeyed for supremacy. He found the female, Blackwood, watching him. "What is it, Pilot?" "I distinctly heard Commander Culver give Xiang the order to double−check his work and do a complete preflight." "What?" After the scene in the gym, he'd have picked this particular pilot as the last one to take Cat's side in anything. Blackwood nodded. "The commander also asked for the results of his preflight before he launched. He said he'd been cleared." "He did," Mykal Lyon stated. "I heard Xiang's report, too." Lyon's defense of Cat grated on Wulfe's nerve endings a helluva a lot more than Blackwood's. Cat's clenched fist rested against Wulfe's chest. Her muscles jittered ever so slightly. She seemed to sag a bit as she turned her attention to the pilot. "Why are you defending me, Blackwood?" Chapter 13

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"I'm not, Commander. I'm simply telling the truth. Xiang's own lies killed him, not you nor any incompetence on your part. His own arrogance accomplished the task quite well." Blackwood turned and marched across the flight bay. An Earther would feel remorse at this point, but he didn't have that leeway or luxury. Wulfe cleared his throat. "Cat−−" She jerked her hand away, stepped back. "Satisfied?" He should be, but the confrontation left something inside him raw and empty and savage. Not to mention the vestige of admiration over her unbridled response to his accusation. Such spirit. "Aye, for now, but−−" Cat spun on her heel and strode away, head high, shoulders squared, without another word, not giving him a chance to finish. Lyon cleared his throat. "Captain−−" Wulfe rounded on Lyon. "If you ever try to interfere like that again, Mister, you'll spend the rest of your life back on Bellona living with the Nomads." Lyon looked him square in the eye. "You might as well send me now, then, because I will always try to defend what is just. I do not call that interfering." "You don't know how badly you've made me wish I had been the one to knock you Chapter 13

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senseless in the gymnasium." "You might want to talk with Manahan before you decide, Captain. I believe he regrets his indiscretion." "Manahan is the pilot who was missing earlier? I wondered at the time if he's the lucky man I saw all but crawling out the back exit to the gym. Cat interrupted us before you could tell me what happened. Care to give out the information now?" "Manahan made an...inappropriate...remark about Commander Culver." Wulfe ground his teeth together. If Cat wasn't defending Lyon, Lyon was defending her. "Dismissed, Lieutenant." "Aye, Captain." Wulfe glared after Lyon's retreating form. Lyon still seemed far too protective of Cat. Completely, totally unacceptable. A low growl of annoyance and displeasure escaped his throat. "Captain?" Now what? He could learn to hate that once sought−after salutation. Wulfe turned toward the man speaking, drew a complete blank on his identity. "Yes?" "Sebring, Sir. I heard what happened. Wanted you to know Xiang forged the technical Chapter 13

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authorization he showed to Commander Culver. Nobody checked his fighter after teardown. When I discovered what he'd done, I took the liberty of taking a look at this morning's log. Xiang circumvented the preflight, too." "I appreciate you bringing the information to my attention, Sergeant." Wulfe left the bay, weighing his options. He hadn't gone more then two decks before realizing he must reclaim his biranium grip on the ship and her crew, but couldn't accomplish that all−important task without clearing away the most troublesome obstacle first. Cat. Her presence distracted him more than any captain should be. Wulfe made a quick stop at his office to contact Flemming. He tracked the admiral down without any problem. 'How does life find you today, son?' Wulfe examined the familiar ebony visage of Admiral Flemming on the secured channel and found added creases, more gray hair than black. The recent trouble with the Mallochons must weigh heavily on his old mentor's shoulders, but Wulfe couldn't believe so much time had passed since their last contact. Seemed like months. Or did he simply not recall recent conversations with Flemming? Something else he'd forgotten. "I have had far Chapter 13

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better days, old friend." 'I'm not surprised.' "I appreciate your efforts on my behalf. Maintaining command of the Falchion is important to me." 'I know that, Wulfe, but I acted selfishly. Keeping you in the captain's seat is in everyone's best interest.' "Roy, I've never asked you for preferential treatment, but I have a problem now that I believe you can help solve." 'What do you need, son?' Doubts assailed Wulfe. He hated the notion of airing personal business, even to an old friend. "Somehow, my mate managed to get assigned to the Falchion." 'I'm waiting to hear the problem.' "You know we've been estranged for years." 'Seems to me I told you once to settle the dispute and get on with life.' Wulfe didn't recall the useless Earther−type piece of advice. Increasingly uncomfortable, he groped for the right words. "Our problems go beyond that. Cat possesses a unique background. She's not an ordinary science officer. Or flight instructor, for that matter. Her Chapter 13

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background is...atypical." 'And impressive, as I recall.' "More than you can imagine. Can you get her off my ship?" 'Is she not capable of working with the pilots?' Wulfe's gut tightened as he admitted, "Cat is very capable. Roy, Space Corps must have someone else almost as good and who wouldn't create the problems she is. Has. Will. Narg it, someone without her problematic history." 'Would that be her history, Wulfe, or her history with you?' A twinkle of amusement glinted in Flemming's eyes. 'Or is she somehow harassing the troops?' "No, Sir. Damn it, Roy, this isn't funny." Flemming scrubbed a hand over his face, massaged a sober expression into existence. 'You're right, it isn't, but unless you can give me one solid professional reason to pull Catherine from the assignment, I won't. Give me a call back when you can tell me that reason, and I'll listen.' Grim acceptance settled heavily on Wulfe's shoulders as the screen went blank, but the admiral's refusal left a curiously light sensation in the area of his heart.

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CAT PLUCKED earthy−smelling strands of blue moss from the ground beneath her, shredded the soft fibers to dust. Could things be worse? Sadness tried to choke her. Two young, inexperienced men had died because she couldn't keep her mind focused on duty. Regret twisted her insides. The near−soundless fall of familiar footsteps reached Cat through the trees and scented plants of the ship's arboretum. She didn't bother lifting her head. She simply turned until her cheek rested against her raised knees. Resigned to Wulfe's censure, Cat tightened her arms around her legs and waited. She briefly considered leaving on a secondary path, decided against running. Evasion wouldn't make the disaster go away. She sat, unmoving, deep in the shadows of the umbrella trees. The weight of guilt multiplied exponentially with each passing second. Wulfe ducked under the graceful, weeping branches, settled on the ground next to her. He picked up a fallen twig, rolled the stem in the fingers of his right hand before putting the length in his mouth. "I've faced this kind of situation before. Losing someone under your command can be tough." Cat's stomach tensed. Why he didn't use a sarcastic tone to drive the words home? He had every right, considering her culpability. "Especially when the death is avoidable, Chapter 13

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right?" "That's true." Wulfe chewed on the twig for a moment as though considering her words, then shook his head. "In this case, I'd say Xiang's death was more like inevitable." Meaning her lack of leadership caused the inevitable conclusion? Cat raised her head and frowned at him while a renewed sickness rolled through her stomach. Wulfe's emotions were such an incredible morass of conflicting feelings−−duty, resentment, desire−−she couldn't get a true sense of his intentions. Somehow, she doubted if he even knew what he meant to do. She tightened down the edges of her mental barriers to block out Wulfe's emotions. She had enough problems of her own right now. "You believe my actions to be that incompetent?" "No. Cat, you couldn't have kept Xiang alive even if you tried to keep him permanently grounded by confining him to quarters. You were right. He was a flasher. A flasher with delusions of invincibility and immortality. It's a blessing from the Creator he didn't take you−−or any more than his fellow copilot−−with him. Xiang forged the technical clearance and the preflight check." "Bloody hell." Cat pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Why didn't I double−check like you said? I should have done something−−gods, anything−−differently." Chapter 13

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"Stop right there. You were his instructor, not his caretaker. Short of knocking him over the head and dragging him off to the brig, what would you have done to change the outcome?" What, indeed? She doubted she'd ever really find a satisfying answer. Her guilt couldn't bring back Xiang and his copilot. Even if she managed to vindicate herself in Wulfe's eyes, the pilots were dead. "I'm still responsible." "As am I." She took her hands away and frowned at him. "How?" "Ever hear about a little thing called chain of command?" "Ridiculous. You couldn't have foreseen this." "And you could have?" Wulfe gave her a half−smile that lifted one side of his dark moustache. "Even you aren't that powerful." Cat laid her cheek back on her knees, feeling completely lost now. "Yes. Maybe. Quit using my own words against me." She'd had a presentiment of something being wrong on the flight deck before they'd launched, but she'd put the feeling down to Wulfe's presence. "Oh, I don't know." "Precisely." Wulfe reached for her, pulled her up snug against his chest. "In only days, Chapter 13

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mere hours, really, you've taken roughly−trained pilots and turned them into a remarkable squadron. This group of yours will set the pace for all the new squadrons coming from the Corps over the next few weeks." This group of hers? "You've done one Underworld of a job, Cat." "Careful. You're getting perilously close to sounding proud of me." Her insides warmed at his unexpectedly generous words. Flame seemed to leap between them wherever their bodies touched. Want and need and love seethed through her, trying to steal her powers of speech and reason. "I'd watch it, if I were you." "I won't tell anyone if you won't." Wulfe rubbed her shoulder and upper back, the motion brisk and impersonal. Unable to save herself the heartache, Cat reached out mentally, gently searched for any indication the bonding link had been sparked back to life. The stark, unrelieved blankness she encountered made her think of embracing elusive shadows. Aching inside with disappointment, she eased away from Wulfe. To be so near him and not be able to.... He stopped her withdrawal. The movement of his hand slowed to become exploring and personal. Wulfe unfastened the copper and bronze clasps holding the ends of her braid. He Chapter 13

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worked his strong fingers up the plait so gently, loosening the strands of hair as he went. He reached her scalp, where he massaged with light, slow pressure. "I came down on you far too hard before I knew all the facts. And I'm not talking just about Xiang." "I'm not arguing with you." What more did he mean? Cat leaned her head into the leisurely movements of his hand, hid her smile against his shoulder. She accepted the comfort he offered, hoarded the heat his touch generated in her. Wulfe let out a small rumble of amusement. "You could at least give the illusion you're giving me the benefit of the doubt." "Maybe, once the favor's been returned," she countered pointedly, knowing she couldn't offer complete capitulation. Any significant chink in her personal armor would only weaken her ability to protect her husband from the truth. Wulfe winced inwardly. He'd had that one coming. Then he wondered if her comeback went deeper than today's tragedy. Could he have been wrong about why she'd endangered his son? If only that were true−−what a sense of freedom such a discovery would impart. Cat's subtle, erotic scent−−too long absent from his life−−whispered to him, spiriting away in sly little increments his ability to rationalize. For an hour, maybe two, he wanted to think of nothing but his ma'ten, the gentle brush of her mind to his, the physical, sensual Chapter 13

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binding of man to mate. Their physical union a few hours ago, rather than satisfy, had only whetted his appetite for more of her, the same way he'd felt that first year before she'd lost the babe. "Cat, I haven't once felt your mindtouch." He flicked the twig away. Wulfe waited for her reaction, unable to tell her how much he missed that part of their union, too. She didn't exactly stiffen next to him, but he felt a tightening in her body and her breath hitched, as if she'd become wary. "No, you haven't. Our bond doesn't−−isn't−−" "You haven't severed the connection?" The universe around him seemed to come to a stop. Did that, rather than amnesia, explain the ever−increasing sense of disorientation and isolation he experienced? "Well, have you?" "I−−I'm not certain. Maybe the link has gone dormant." Maybe? Wulfe lay back in the grass, taking her with him, driven by determination. "Then let's revive the Underworld out of it." He cut off Cat's protest by claiming her sweet lips. She resisted at first, not adamantly, but almost reluctantly. Little by little, he laid siege to her mouth, increased his level of persuasion until she became a willing, eager participant. Chapter 13

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With a leap of faith, Cat threw caution along the wayside and opted for hope−−and selfishness. Wulfe's exploration set her body to new heights of craving, as if months instead of hours had passed since they'd joined. His renewed desire set her heart free to believe again. She gave herself over to the glorious magic she always found in Wulfe's arms. Cat reveled in his touch, familiar and fire−hot. She gloried in his kisses, extravagant and untamed. Her mouth mated to his so perfectly, tasted the familiar passion wine−flavor of him. Delicious shivers coursed through her. Wulfe feverishly worked the fastenings open on her flight suit, slipped his big warm hand in inside. She arched into his touch. He cupped her breast, rolled the nipple between his fingers, then nipped at it with his teeth. A moan caught deep in her throat. Reaction thrummed along nerve endings, rushed to her very core, collected and formed a hot, liquid heat that demanded release. Desire and need. So intertwined that each drove the other, as they had before Garrett's birth and in the days following her recovery. Garrett! She evaded Wulfe's mouth, squirmed out of his grasp. She closed her flight suit with hurried movements. Cat cursed herself as a fool for allowing even something as awful as the pilots' deaths to drive thoughts of the children from her mind. Chapter 13

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"Cat? Did I hurt−−?" "The message. A transmission came in from Bellona for me. I have to retrieve the message." "About the children's arrival? Did Cass get them there?" His questions startled her. Halfway to her feet, Cat slipped, landed awkwardly on her knees. "What? You know Cass took the children?" Wulfe steadied her−−or held her at bay−−she wasn't sure which. Smart move on his part. She could cheerfully strangle him right now for keeping the knowledge a secret. "I'm not a complete idiot, Cat." "Depends on your interpretation! Release me! You've known all along, you dishonorable barbarian! You−−you−−argh!−−Bellon!" Wulfe only gripped her arm tighter. "I'm the one without honor? Stop right there. I'm the injured party here." "You?" She tried to break his grip, accomplished nothing. "You've been glibly passing off some other man's get as mine." "Garesh take you! If you're so convinced I've dishonored the House of Kincade, why would you even try to take me to your bed?" Chapter 13

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"I am still your Lord." "But not my master! Argh! You are the most maddening, stubborn, unreasonable−−why am I bothering? You're a Bellon, plain and simple!" "And I don't plan on changing any time soon!" "Big surprise there!" It seemed no matter what she said or did, she managed to antagonize Wulfe to the point of explosion. This time, she'd met the pain and anger head−on and won the confrontation, if only temporarily. "Get your bloody hands off me." His emotions welled over her like hot rain. Resentment. Grief. The depth of his loss cut through her very heart, the keenness of the pain taking her breath. Still on her knees, she placed her palms to Wulfe's cheeks. With him sitting, their eyes met on the same level. "Will you ever truly learn that false Bellon pride should be left on Bellona?" Puzzlement and skepticism filled his dark eyes, radiated from him, along with a sense that he searched for something. Cat moved her hands to his shoulders and pushed herself to her feet, tired of arguing, tired of secrets, just plain tired. "Forget it. Wulfe, if you truly believe I'd take another into my bed, you don't know me at all; you never have." She brushed her fingertips to his temple. "How well do you know yourself?" Chapter 13

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Long after Cat left the arboretum, Wulfe sat within the umbrella tree grove. He'd like to forget a lot of things, like seeing Cat in the infirmary bed when she'd lost the first babe. He grimaced, taken by surprise when another memory−− rediscovered this very second−−rushed in to fill a dark corner of the past. An argument with Cat, the day she first heard about the Mallochon Uprising on Wikkerd. The first time she'd informed him he wasn't her master. Barely two months pregnant, she immediately informed him that Covert Operations expected her to help the League troops. He forbade her to leave while she carried his son−−as was his right−−and, Cat being Cat, she promptly packed a flight bag and departed for Wikkerd. The next invading memory flashed on the heels of the first and turned his insides deep−space cold. Eleven days after Cat left, he received the transmission he'd been dreading. His mate lay near death. Once he reached the outpost infirmary, the medical team informed him she might live, with dedicated care beyond what a field hospital could provide. So he made arrangements for her transfer to an Erosian healing center. He took back the length of bonding chain intended to accommodate her growing belly and refastened the length around his own neck and left before they transferred her. Chapter 13

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The babe she'd carried hadn't had a chance of survival. She might as well have killed his son with her own hands. He couldn't find the capacity to forgive her betrayal. Bellon females were expected to put the life of a child above their own. Almost eight years now. A wave of fresh anger struck, hard and vicious. Anger toward himself because some inner portion wanted to forgive her, narg it. To do so would only increase the dishonor already visited upon his House by Cat's deceptions. He might even consider deviating from Bellon custom if Cat would simply demonstrate one iota of remorse, or even acknowledge she'd been wrong to endanger his son. According to Bellon law and tradition, he'd been well within his right to Abandon her. A century earlier, her own life would have been forfeit. After all, honor must be maintained. Except honor sure as narg made a cold companion at night. Wulfe lay back in the grass under the umbrella trees, his body aching and on fire for the woman he'd forced from his life. Even if he set aside his honor and pride, the chances of Cat returning to his life after he'd Abandoned her were about one in one−thousand. They had a better chance of being blown to Creation and back by the Mallochons. A shiver of deja vu moved through him. The words sounded so familiar. Chapter 13

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Still, Cat was here, though he had yet to discover if her presence signified duty to Covert, duty to Space Corps, or because she wanted to be with him. Cat's opinion of him couldn't be very high. She'd even believed he'd tried to take Mykal Lyon apart without giving the security chief a chance to defend himself. She must be here as a function of her Covert status. Wulfe squinted through the branches of the tree to the projected image of the sky overhead. Of course, if Lyon hadn't already taken the brunt of a dishonorable attack, Cat's conjecture could easily have become reality. Aye, and what about Lyon? If the security officer hadn't sired the boy, who had? Wulfe slammed his fist into the moss−covered ground, faced the truth. He had, of course. He knew Cat well enough to realize she'd not accept another man while bonded to him. He simply didn't want to admit the fact because that would mean he couldn't remember his own son, or some very important parts of his life. Bah! How could he be the father to those two−−for surely Morgan figured into this−−and not remember? Wulfe sucked in a breath. Morgan reminded him of Hawke, looked enough like a natural Kincade to convince even the most hardheaded. Wulfe shifted position again, incapable of remaining still. Restlessness built in him. Chapter 13

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Wouldn't be long before he'd need physical release of some kind. Trapped by the genetic engineering of the old Earthers, he, like all Bellons, instinctively reacted to stress, grief, or other harsh emotions by seeking catharsis through brute physical force. Of course, back then, the thought had been to make them more aggressive in battle, more willing to blindly fight to the death for their Earther designers. Gareshian and his fellow genetic scientists had created the ultimate warrior, or so they believed, until the biological war machines of their fantasies had learned to think, fight, create and procreate for themselves. The group of scientists responsible for bioengineering the thought readers and mind benders−−the psi−talented, long since vanished−− thought they had those creations under control, too, right along with the warriors, until it was too late. By then, the warriors and psi talents had overcome their mutual distrust and formed a loose association that allowed them to break free of their designers, to break free of Earth, and to go separate ways. The warriors found Bellona. No one ever saw the psi talents again. Then a few short generations ago, the Bellon Aggression against Earth forced the Earthers to acknowledge their sins of the past and to make reparations to Bellona. Chapter 13

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The people of Bellona made certain that the coldest of mistresses and companions, her name Honor, had been satisfied. Not unlike what he tried to do now in his own life. A satisfied sense of honor would leave him a cold, empty bed. Aye, but he could hold his head high while he mourned the loss of everything else dear to him. How well did he know himself?

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Chapter 14 CAT SAT OPEN−MOUTHED at the desk in her quarters, numbed by shock and expanding disbelief. She must have heard wrong. Or Lady Kestrel Kincade had somehow gotten the incorrect information. Some fool had made a terrible mistake. Blessed Creator, if not.... "Computer, cue last message." Fingers shaking, Cat fumbled incompetently at the fastenings down the front of her vest. She'd been pulling on the leather garment when the message began the first time through. She squinted at the comm screen as Kestrel, Wulfe's mother, appeared frozen in time. Cat had to clear her throat. "Play." 'Hello, Daughter Cat. I simply wanted you to know how we had looked forward to seeing our grandchildren for the first time. When Raptor and I received word of your revision in plans, we were disappointed, but understand your desire to keep the children with you. Raptor and I both sincerely hope when the Mallochon affair is behind us, all four of you will come to visit. If we're blessed, perhaps Hawke and Cass can visit at the same time. Give Wulfe our greetings. We rejoice that he has recovered. May the Creator be with all of you in these trying times. In the meantime, if your schedule undergoes another change, we Chapter 14

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will welcome the children with open arms.' No. She'd heard correctly. Goose bumps rippled over Cat's skin. The icy dread of terror trickled down her spine. Panic followed on swift nerve−shredding claws. The children weren't on Bellona. The children weren't with Cass. The children weren't here. Where were they? "C−computer, open a secured channel to Bellona, K−kincade c−compound, immediately." Her teeth chattered so hard she could barely issue the order. "K−kestrel or Raptor Kincade." Complying. Each passing second loomed as an eternity without mercy, filled only with the deepest dread, the darkest horror. 'Cat, how wonderful to speak with you in person.' "Lady Kincade, I must know the meaning behind your message. If Garrett and Morgan aren't with you on Bellona, where are they? Where did Cass take them?" Kestrel's regal face went slack with shock. 'But Cass sent us a message before she and Hawke left for the Devil's Graveyard. The message clearly stated that Wulfe had completely recovered from his injuries and had decided to keep the children aboard the Chapter 14

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Falchion. He sent the message to Cass. At least, that's what her transmission said.' "No, no," the words came out as a moan. Cat's throat locked around the unfamiliar sensation of a building sob. Wulfe had decided? "Garrett and Morgan left these very quarters with Fallon to board Cass's ship. Cass vowed to keep them safe, to take them to you! Fallon promised me she'd watch over them! Sweet Creator, what's happened to my children? How long ago did you talk to Cass?" 'I didn't speak to her directly. We received a relayed message. Cat, listen to me. Cat turned away from the screen, too many terrifying images hurtling through her mind. 'I said listen! Raptor and I will backtrack from here. We may not be able to contact Cass, but Hawke might be in a position to respond to communication. Are you still at Uhlein?' Her numbed mind didn't want to function. Cat shook her head, tried to clear away the fog. "I, uh, I think we left Uhlein a few minutes ago. All the refitting had been..." 'Cat, look at me! You'll have to contact the station immediately. Find out if Fallon and the little ones are still there. Do you understand me? Garesh! Let me talk with Wulfe!' "Wulfe!" Wulfe had decided! Cat's mind cleared at once. "By the gods! He's the one! Your son has stolen my children!" A scream of pure, focused rage erupted from her. "Computer, terminate comm link! Location of Wulfe Kincade?" Chapter 14

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Captain Kincade is in his office. Good. Then she wouldn't need to worry about splattering his blood on any innocent bystanders. She tore down the corridor and barged into Wulfe's office. She nearly trampled the Chief Engineer. "Chief Sutton, unless the engines are ready to blow, come back some other time." Sutton nodded quick acceptance of her order. "I can wait." Cat rounded on Wulfe before the doors slid shut. "How the bloody hell did you manage to pull this one off?" "What are you talking about?" "Where are Garrett and Morgan?" "What do you mean? You sent them off with your sister." Numb, Cat could only shake her head. "What's Cass done? What did she do with them?" Wulfe stood abruptly, a look of contempt on his face. "I warned her." "She never had them!" Cat shrieked. "You said the plans had been changed. Now I want to know who you gave the children to!" Cat groped for the back of a chair as his words sank in. "What do you mean, you warned Cass? About what?" Chapter 14

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"My parents−−" "Don't have them, as you well know! I just talked with Kestrel. She got a message from Cass saying you had changed the plans for the children. I don't know what kind of sick game you're playing, Wulfe, but I swear you'll pay! You won't admit to my face that Garrett is your son, or that you fathered Morgan with another woman, but the second my back is turned, you spirit them away! Who the narg do you think you are?" Wulfe landed in his chair with a thud. "Another wo−−Creator, what−−you think I'm responsible for their disappearance?" "Hell, yes!" Cat stared. Wulfe's dark bronze complexion turned a terrible shade of sickly gray that could never be faked. His eyes held an emptiness that seemed to go straight to his soul. The bleakness nearly did go that far, she realized, when she opened herself enough to feel the tumult of his clashing emotions. Dammit, now her teeth were chattering again. She felt overwhelmed by cold. So cold, and so powerless. "It really wasn't you." He kept blinking when he looked at her, as though he couldn't truly focus. "I thought Cass−−" Sweet Creator, he didn't know where the little ones had been taken! Cat screamed. Rage and terror erupted from her throat, echoed off the bulkheads and deck around her. Chapter 14

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Shocked by Cat's wild actions, Wulfe vaulted over his desk. He caught her against his chest before she could dig more bloody furrows into her arms with her fingernails. His own heart thundered in response to her agony, an anguish that had nothing to do with physical discomfort. He held her tight against him until her screams subsided into hoarse, wordless sounds of denial and grief, a mother's tormented lament. The door to the corridor slid open. Albright and Lyon stood within the framework. Trepidation and concern marked their faces. "What's going on?" Albright demanded. Lyon rushed toward Cat. "Commander Culver, you're bleeding! You've been injured!" Wulfe swept Cat into his arms as her legs collapsed beneath her, keepig her out of Lyon's reach. A warrior is strong−−a warrior is strong−−a warrior is strong−−the mantra kept repeating in his mind while he made himself believe. "We−−our children−−it's possible someone's taken Garrett and Morgan." Albright nodded slowly. "Catherine made arrangements with her sister to take them to Bellona on her ship." "No." Wulfe cradled Cat against his heart. He tried to still her trembling while he fought to keep his own stark fears at bay. "Apparently Cass never saw them. Either Cass received a false message saying we'd changed our minds, or my mother received a false one Chapter 14

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claiming to be from Cass." "Or both," Lyon added bleakly. Wulfe absorbed Lyon's simple words and wondered at the extent of the planning involved in the disappearance of the children. "Gods, they could be anywhere." "Captain," Lyon said, "with your permission, I'll do a security sweep of the Falchion and contact Uhlein's commander." "Yes. Lieutenant, have the station's commander hold all ships presently docked or in orbit until each vessel has been checked. I want our children found!" "Aye, Captain." Lyon stepped back into the corridor and turned away. Albright entered the office all the way. "Catherine?" Wulfe shook his head when Cat didn't respond. "She's in shock, I think. Can you do something for her, Doctor?" "You don't look so hot yourself." Albright snapped open her medical scanner, took readings from Cat, then Wulfe. "Both of you exhibit signs of shock, though Catherine is far worse." She adjusted an autoinjector, held the device to Cat's neck and released a dose. "This will keep her calm enough to think, but she should lie down until the medication gets into her system." Chapter 14

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Wulfe led the way through the side entry into his quarters, then settled Cat on one of the loungers. If someone had purposefully created this pain, Wulfe intended to exact his own brand of revenge. After he covered Cat's lower body with a blanket, he turned to face Albright. "Who is Morgan's mother?" "Why would you ask me a thing like that?" Albright passed a small autohealer over Cat's upper arms, closing and healing the blood−filled furrows her nails had left in the honey−bronze skin. "Doctor, do not insult me by responding to my questions with more questions. You are obviously aware my memory has begun to return. I know Garrett and Morgan are my children. Cat is not Morgan's mother, but, for the moment, I can't remember who is." "I consider it unlikely that you would remember Morgan is yours without remembering the mother." Albright powered down the autohealer, replaced the small device in her medical pouch, still not looking at him. "Highly improbable, in fact." "Are you calling me a liar, Doctor?" "No, but you're stretching the daylights out of the truth." "Stop it, stop it," Cat commanded. She pushed herself up and gave the cover a weak toss. "Nothing−−absolutely nothing−−takes precedent over locating my children. If you two Chapter 14

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would rather argue, fine. Just do so somewhere else and stay out of my way." "Feeling calmer, are we?" Albright seemed to gauge Cat's reactions, then moved aside to allow her to stand. Wulfe searched Cat's face and demeanor for any sign of the panic she'd given in to. He found only an icy calmness that went far beyond what Albright's medication should provide. Cat set her jaw with a grim determination he easily recognized as Bellon and a smattering of cold Syllogian logic. For the first time he could remember, Wulfe wished he had that renowned, detached control the Syllogians utilized. His own emotions seethed just beneath the thin veneer of civilization he enforced. Fear the children would be harmed. Rage at the person responsible. Concern for Cat's emotional and physical well−being. He'd do what he must to protect his family and reunite them. The conviction brought a calmness all its own, along with a sense of unexplainable and unexpected rightness. Wulfe's comm tag emitted a low tone. "Kincade." 'Lyon here. Negative on the sweep of the Falchion. Uhlein's commander has initiated a search of the station and surrounding vessels....' Chapter 14

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"What's the worse news?" The security chief would have begun his report with the best possible information. Cat threw him a sharp look. Her jaw tightened even further. 'The station's logs indicate at least fifty ships have left Uhlein's docking rings, the station's orbit, or passed within transport range in the last twenty−five hours.' "I want ship registries and captains' names." 'Gathering the information now, Captain.' "I'm going to leave you alone," Albright said once Wulfe broke the link with Lyon. "You have a lot of territory to cover while I begin a new litany of prayers. If I'm needed for anything, or if I can help with the search in any way, call. I'm more than happy to lend a hand." "We will, Doctor." Wulfe turned toward Cat. She watched Albright leave. A forlorn, lost expression shadowed his mate's features. Wulfe wanted to...what? Tell her everything would be all right? He needed to believe that, but had no proof, no way to convince himself, and Cat didn't need empty little platitudes. He held out a hand toward her. "Cat?" She gave him her hand. His heart filled with an emotion so deep, so bottomless, the Chapter 14

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feeling left him speechless. Despite everything, his love for this woman continued strong and true. Wulfe brought her hand to his mouth, kissed each cold fingertip, then pressed her palm to his heart. "Wulfe, you asked Nora about Morgan's mother." "Aye, but if you'd rather not discuss her, I understand." "I'm not certain if you do understand. Nora didn't want to explain to you about Danelle because she felt it might damage your chances for a full recovery. I don't think she realizes you've put some of the pieces together. Or that we've had some of the discussions we have." "You mean our shouting matches." "Aye. Seeing as how I said what I did, I owe you something of an explanation." His heartbeat leapt at the remote possibility that all of Cat's deceptions had been founded in some basis other than spiteful or selfish deceit. "I'm listening." "That's not always the case, now is it?" Cat gave him a tight, tortured smile. "Danelle Morgan, who happened to be your consort in addition to being Morgan's natural mother, died last year. She was a mining engineer. Initial reports stated she'd been killed in an accident at one of the mines on Tazane." Chapter 14

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"Initial reports. What really happened?" "A Mallochon killed her because she mistook Danelle for me." "The Mallochons again." "Aye. Now, I'm the only mother Morgan has. I am her Oath Mother." Wulfe blew out a breath, taken completely off guard by her news. "You swore a Mother Oath with someone I took as consort?" "Yes." "Why?" Such an undertaking usually involved loyalty and love. He hadn't dared to hope for that much. Cat touched his temple with her free hand. "When we bonded as mates, did I not vow to protect what is yours?" "That is part of the bonding ceremony." "Morgan is yours." Cat lowered her hand. "Besides, Danelle had ended her relationship with you, and I respected her honesty. Actually, Wulfe, I liked Danelle very much. Even if I hadn't, the child should not suffer because of the parents." "My wife, you are a remarkable woman." "See? Your memory is coming back to you." She managed a taut half−smile, slipped her Chapter 14

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hand from his. "We have much to do. If you'll contact your parents and explain what's happened−−gods, your poor mother! She must think I've lost my mind−−I'll talk to mine." The planes of her face shifted as she struggled to remain calm. "Father should be at the League Embassy on Space Station Central. Mother is on Erosia, trying to find more Seekers." "Seekers? Explain." "Cass's ship−−" "−−can be shrouded," he finished for her. "So if she's in a situation where her ship is ghosting, she can't return a communication to us without betraying her presence. She also has the ability to detect Mallochon vessels that are ghosting." "Yes, by using a Seeker." Cat looked at him with a puzzled expression. "How is it that you remember such technical aspects, but fail to recall anything to do with emotions or of a personal nature?" Wulfe slid his hand around the back of her neck under her hair. Her skin felt tender and warm. "Truthfully, I didn't remember. I overheard you and Cass talking in Uhlein's bay." Cat studied him a moment, as though reading and evaluating an image on a computer screen. "That explains the feeling I had. I felt as though Cass and I were being watched." Chapter 14

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Wulfe stopped stroking the back of her neck. "I felt the same thing. Perhaps someone did watch you. Maybe all of us." "Then they could know the capabilities of Cass's ship. She could be in real danger herself. If, by some Creator's blessing, Garrett and Morgan are with Cass, then they are in as much danger. Perhaps someone wants us to believe they are somewhere else instead of on the Moon Maiden. Make sure your parents contact Hawke immediately to tell him. He's probably in the vicinity of the Devil's Graveyard, where Cass planned to go." "We'll send out a general message in case they've moved on or changed plans. Cass and Hawke. That's another story I want to hear−−and remember this time−−once we've brought the children home. Use the comm unit in here. I'll go back into my office and use that one. By the time we've talked with our families, Lyon should have the information we need from the station." "Agreed." She looked up at him, her wide amber eyes haunted with a sadness that shredded his soul. Wulfe leaned down, kissed her, gently, tenderly, meant as a vow. "I swear, the children will be returned safely," he whispered against her lips, "or I will die in the trying." "I'd prefer you didn't die on me." Cat clung to Wulfe for a moment, took what comfort Chapter 14

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she could from his nearness, hoped he could gather some from her. She watched him leave the quarters to enter his office. She sensed the emotions created by love and caring, but they warred with the other feelings in him. Anger, resentment, confusion, grief. More emotions−−among them, relief and loneliness−−joined her own inner chaos of fear, love, anger. Why couldn't they make that final connection, the all−important bonding link? Cat kept all the emotions under firm control, locked away in a dark corner for the duration of the three−way conversation with her parents. The discussion garnered the expected result. Predictably shocked and outraged−−and in her father's case, coolly calculating and logical−−each parent pledged a sizeable amount of help from Syllog and Erosia. She sighed, frustrated with feeling helpless. If only she could think of something effective the volunteers might do. The only way to keep her sanity now was to concentrate on gathering information. "Come," Cat responded to the sound of the door chime. Mykal Lyon entered Wulfe's quarters, held up a pair of tiny data chips. "I've split the roster of ships into two lists. One contains all the Space Corps vessels, one has all the non−Space Corps. Any preference?" Chapter 14

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"Wulfe knows the Space Corps captains and should be able to spot any type of deceit. I'll take non−Corps, see if I can sense anyone being less than honest." Lyon placed the appropriate crystal in her palm, wrapped her fingers over the data chip, then closed his hand around hers. "Good choice. Anything else you'd like me to do?" "I hate to say this, but take over my duties with the pilots, on top of your own. I don't know how long this search will take us." "Consider it done, my Lady." Lyon released her hand. "I will do anything needed to help find your children." "I know." Cat stood next to him, circled her arm around his upper body as he put his arm over her shoulders. Such a good friend with none of the complexities of her relationship with Wulfe. "I haven't the faintest idea what I'd do without you, Mykal." "Try to imagine," Wulfe's deep voice grated from the office doorway. His hand hovered over the hilt of his stiletto. "Every time I turn around, I find you getting cozy with my mate, Lyon." Jealousy and resentment broadcasted from Wulfe in prickly waves of agitation that forced Cat to either reinforce her mental shields or succumb to the crippling emotions herself. She couldn't afford that, not now, and not without risking an unleashing of her Chapter 14

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fears. She strengthened the mental barriers. Lyon withdrew his arm when she stepped back. "I make no explanation or excuse for my friendship with the commander, and certainly no apologies." He tossed the other data chip to Wulfe. "A list of Space Corps ships leaving the vicinity of Uhlein." Lyon hesitated, glanced at each officer. "Uhlein has found one disturbing thing. The remains of a body. Initial identification states only a young female Earther. Their medical department is doing an autopsy and DNA match. I took the liberty of providing them with Fallon's records. We should know soon. If there's nothing else, I have duties on the flight deck." "Dismissed, Lieutenant." Wulfe nodded pointedly to the door then turned a baleful eye on Cat. "You have something to say?" "You could have handled that differently," Cat said after Lyon left. "I sincerely wish you had." "I did not wish to do so." He bit off each brittle word with overt savageness. "Obviously. Wulfe, if that is Fallon's body, the children are probably by themselves among strangers. Morgan will be so frightened. Who will care for Garrett?" Fear threatened to squeeze her heart from her chest, shut down her mind, freeze the very blood in her veins. Chapter 14

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"We will find them." "Do you remember Morgan or Garrett at all, other than the last few days?" "No. Though if you had bothered telling me the truth, I might. Have you always had so little faith in me, wife?" Cat's heart contracted in a painful knot. She intentionally ignored his question. "I do remember, every single moment I've ever spent with the children." She stabbed a finger at the data chip he held. "Are you helping with this or not?" "Aye." Wulfe glowered at her a moment, then turned away, went into his office. Wulfe's failure to remember−−she sensed no deceit from him in response to her direct question−−tore a chunk right out of her soul. What if Wulfe never regained the memory of their son's joyful conception or birth? Would he be capable of giving Garrett the love and guidance the precious boy deserved? Cat held her head in her hands. A moot question until the babe was found, was it not? And poor little Morgan, who tried so hard to be brave. She blew out a breath in a slow, steady stream. Cat focused her thoughts on the waiting task instead of the Bellon rage growing inside her. The rage demanded revenge on the person responsible for stealing her children and tried to break her concentration. Chapter 14

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She inserted the data chip Lyon had provided, scanned the list. Twenty−three ships from nineteen different worlds. A long, rough course of elimination. She chose a ship and opened a comm channel. One after another, ten disappointments followed rapidly on the heels of the one before. Each new letdown became harder to take than the previous. Every setback fed the growing rage and panic. The eleventh ship on the roster, the Bastet, claimed Grimale, Seleen's homeworld, as her port of origin. The Bastet's captain gave Cat her first real flash of hope. 'Yesss, Commander. When I ssshowed the image of the cubsss and their nurssse to my crew, my sssecond officer thought he recognized them.' The Grimalkan captain blinked her eyes in a slow movement while her muzzle whiskers twitched. "Does your officer remember where he saw them?" The feline captain ran a bright pink tongue over sharp incisors. 'On Uhlein, docking ring alpha, level two.' Cat's breath hitched in her chest. Fallon and the children shouldn't have been anywhere near alpha ring. Wait a minute. Hadn't the Orion been assigned to alpha ring? Wheeler! "Did he notice anything else?" Chapter 14

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'Only that none of the three ssseemed upssset and that they were in the company of a Ssspace Corps officer.' "Can your second describe the officer he saw?" The Grimalkan shook her head. 'My officer didn't pay much attention. He remembersss only that the officer wasss male and Ssspace Corps.' "I appreciate your help, Captain." He could be anyone. Still, the image of Wheeler's face hovered in the back of her mind. 'We wisssh you good fortune in your sssearch, Commander.' The comm screen went dark. An outside source of jumbled emotions seeped into Cat's consciousness to join her own. She looked up to find Wulfe standing in the doorway between the quarters and his office. So tall and handsome. Cat nodded in the direction of the comm unit. "Did you hear?" "Aye," Wulfe answered. "Did the Grimalkan tell you the truth?" "I sensed no deceitful intentions, no emotions to indicate she tried to hide anything." "Good. Do you intend to ask me the question that must be on your mind?" She hadn't, because the Grimalkan would have remembered someone of Wulfe's imposing size. Besides, if Wulfe ever decided to take the children away from her, he'd do it Chapter 14

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openly without a thought to covering up the deed. But his attitude raised her hackles. Once out in the open, the question could be put behind them, releasing them both to move on. "Are you the Space Corps officer the Grimalkan saw with Fallon and the children?" With a jolt, Cat realized part of her wanted him to answer with a yes so this nightmare of uncertainty could end. The agony of not knowing the location and circumstance of her children grew more intolerable with every heavy heartbeat. Whoever had taken the children failed to understand the Bellon drive to protect their offspring. Insuring the safety of future generations−−the priority of every female Bellon−−called for the right of vengeance. "Are you the one?" "No." His dark gaze traveled over her face. One corner of his mouth lifted in a humorless twist. "Feel better?" "No. If you were responsible, I'd be angrier than Garesh denied a soul in the Underworld, but at least I'd know whom to blame, and I'd have some reassurance they were safe. Right now, I don't have that guarantee."

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Chapter 15 WULFE SAT ON the bridge of his ship, his thoughts light−years away, dwelling on his failure. He'd contacted twenty−eight Space Corps captains. Only one had seen Fallon and the children. Erich Wheeler. Wheeler had said his goodbyes to Fallon on Uhlein's alpha docking ring a few minutes before his vessel left the station. That explained the Grimalkan second officer seeing Fallon there with the children, but Wheeler had no idea where the young nurse had taken Morgan and Garrett after he parted company with them. Wheeler wanted to return to the station and conduct a personal investigation for them, but Wulfe couldn't allow the newly promoted captain to disregard orders from Command. Others had already joined in the time−consuming search for the children, including Roy Flemming. Flemming had ordered the Falchion on her present course to take care of Space Corps business. Space Corps didn't come to halt because three people were missing. In return, the admiral himself sent out formal top command requests for information regarding Garrett and Morgan, and tapped into his own private sources of information. Now they had to wait for results. Chapter 15

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"Incoming transmission, Captain." Wulfe squared his shoulders, braced for bad news−−the only kind lately. He swivelled his captain's chair enough to see Seleen at her station. "Who's the message from?" Seleen's muzzle whiskers stilled as she concentrated on her control panel. "The signal's breaking up. I'm reading...must be a weak power source." The tip of her feline tail flicked straight up over her left shoulder. "Got it. Origin of the signal is...Sisyphus. They are under attack." "Sisyphus? Not much there except−−" Wulfe moved his focus beyond Seleen, to her left where he found Cat posted at the science station, the last place his mate probably wanted to be. She must ache worse than he did to go after the children. After all, she remembered everything about Garrett and Morgan. Cat scanned her data screen before looking up. She met his gaze and nodded. "Another mining operation. They don't have what the Mallochons are after, nor do they maintain much in the way of planetary defenses. The Mallochons will kill off the population of Sisyphus out of spite and retaliation." Wulfe faced forward and spared his helm officer and Jinny Riordan at Ops quick glances while containing his loathing of the Mallochons. They must all react with efficiency, not Chapter 15

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emotion. "Time to Sisyphus?" "Eleven minutes, thirty seconds," Riordan responded. "Do it in eight. Seleen, sound yellow alert. Go to long−range sensors, do a full sweep. Monitor all comm frequencies." Cat appeared at his right shoulder, her face drawn and tight, her demeanor unnaturally subdued. "Time to scramble the fighters, Captain." Wulfe paused as though considering her words, but one simple fact burned through his thoughts: training exercises were one thing, a direct conflict with the Mallochons another entirely. "Aye. Have Lieutenant Lyon launch half the squadron." "Half? But I−−" "I need you here, Commander." He readied himself for the expected argument. "As the captain prefers." Guilty, selfish relief he couldn't openly express swept through him, racing far ahead of the surprise. "The captain definitely prefers." Wulfe divided his attention between the view screen, listening to Cat pass the orders on to Lyon, and the concise intermittent status reports from Seleen and Riordan. "Coming out of hyperspace in ten, Captain," Riordan said. Chapter 15

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"Sensors show one Mallochon ship, heavy cruiser class, standard weapons, actively firing on Sisyphus," Seleen added. "Fighters ready to launch, Captain," Cat informed him. "Our squads will make their first hit before the Mallochons know the Falchion is on top of them. Four. Three. Two." "Normal space," Riordan cued the bridge officers. "Fighters away." Cat secured the tiny comm link in her left ear, giving herself a direct tie−in to the fighters without interfering with conversation on the bridge. She watched the large view screen with intense concentration. "Seleen, may I have a tactical grid on a secondary screen?" "Aye, Commander." "Red alert to all stations." From the corner of his eye, Wulfe saw Cat's attention shift from the grid, to the actual visual of the scenario being played out over the small planet of Sisyphus, and back to the grid. Twice, Mykal Lyon wedged his fighter between one of the young pilots and the vicious attack of the Mallochon vessel. Both times, Cat's sharply indrawn breath rankled Wulfe's already peevish temper. He crushed the honorless thought that if Lyon died in battle, Cat would only mourn Lyon's loss and blame herself for not flying with the squadron. She'd blame him, too, for Chapter 15

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keeping her behind, though she might never voice the accusation. His jealousy abated when he realized how much he'd miss Mykal−−as a crew member and friend−−if something happened to him. The Mallochon cruiser turned her fire power on the Falchion. The less graceful Mallochon ship was no match for the combination of the League's beefed−up shielding, the starcruiser's speed, or the darting hit−and−run strategy of the fighter squadron. Nine minutes later, the Falchion and her horde of fighters had inflicted enough damage on the Mallochon ship to convince her captain to leave Sisyphus alone. The ship retreated, too damaged to have her shrouding system engaged, and Wulfe recalled the fighters. He squelched the urge to go in for the kill. He'd not be the one responsible for full−blown war. Besides, he had to get teams down to the surface. The civilian population would be desperate for help. Wulfe tempered the jubilation of the bridge crew. "We got lucky because we took them by surprise. It won't be so easy the next time around. And prepare yourselves, for this won't be the last violent encounter with the Mallochons." "Captain!" Wulfe snapped his head around at the urgency in Seleen's voice. "Yes?" Chapter 15

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"Life support on the Mallochon ship is failing. Rapidly. She is incapable of entering hyperspace." Cat, still standing close, gripped his shoulder. "I feel the same way you do, Captain, but we have no alternative." Wulfe knew she was right; she'd driven her point home merely by calling him captain, but reality left a caustic taste in his mouth. "Seleen, contact the Mallochon ship and advise them we are willing to offer sanctuary to any crew member agreeing to come aboard unarmed." "Aye, Captain." Thirty seconds went by. "Anything, Seleen?" "No, Sir. Wait a moment...ah, we have been invited to take a one−way excursion into the Underworld...stars!" The Falchion's main viewing screen blazed with the explosion of the Mallochons ship. Cat gasped. "Death screams," she whispered hoarsely in his ear. His hand covered hers where it clenched his shoulder. "The fools would rather die than submit." Sickened by the idea that a ship commander would murder his own crew, Wulfe resorted to action. Chapter 15

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He motioned to the lift with a jerk of his head. "You want to go down to the surface with me, Cat?" "No." Her voice sounded cool, remote, concise, an obvious effort to reconcile herself with what had just happened. "You go. I need to check on damages and injuries to the flight teams. Manahan's fighter barely managed to limp back. Then I plan to contact Uhlein's commander. I want him to review his security logs of the docking rings." "Good idea. Get hold of me if you receive any news." Cat looked up into his face. Worry shadowed the delicate skin beneath her amber eyes. "If you'd like." Wulfe transported to the surface of Sisyphus, taking a crew of security team members and several repair technicians. Entire medical teams would transport down immediately after them, to assist the local physicians' efforts to treat the wounded. He met with the local leaders of the mining community, listened to their concerns and gratitude for the Falchion's help. Sisyphus had been settled two centuries earlier by a varied assortment of miners, mining engineers, geologists and their families from nearly thirty different worlds. Two−hundred years ago, the Sisyphus system had been isolated and life had been difficult for the Chapter 15

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founding families. The network of inhabited worlds in this sector had grown and expanded in recent decades, and Sisyphus started to thrive and draw new settlers. The most recent generations of Sisyphus grew affluent on the minerals and metals their world produced. They'd taken that wealth and transformed a rough, inhospitable world no one else had wanted into the garden spot of their star system. A spot they'd believed to be far from the harsh realities of conflict or war. Until today, when eighty−seven people died at the hands of the Mallochons. Another one−hundred−and−fifty−six had varying degrees of injuries. All the buildings of one settlement were gone, blown to oblivion, half of another village had vanished the same way. Wulfe viewed a portion of undamaged landscape as though through Cat's point of view. He looked over the hilly, fertile terrain filled with the blues and grays of native grasses and foliage. The silver and turquoise of lake waters sparkled in the luminous sunlight. Gray and black rocks dotted the shores. The wild beauty helped him order his thoughts. Cat would absorb these surroundings, rejoice in the experience. She delighted in seeing new worlds and flourished in the challenges they offered. Another memory? His heart missed a beat. Oh, aye, in one quick flash he'd remembered Chapter 15

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that adventure−loving part of Cat well enough. He couldn't yet name the place or time, but in his mind's eye, he saw the wonder reflected in her eyes as she watched a glorious sunrise on some wild, alien world. Her pure joy was no less beautiful than nature's inspiring show, and she shared the joy with him. He and Cat had recently brought a son into the universe, so they must have had some good times in the not−so−distant past. If only he could remember everything. One thing he did know; after all these years, after the bad times and the heartaches he did recall, she touched his heart, his mind and his soul with profound effect, on levels he couldn't even begin to understand. Cat scorched him with the explosive power of wildfire brandy, transported him with the ecstasy of passion wine. Why hadn't time granted him immunity to her? That, after all, had been his great master plan when he'd Abandoned her eight years ago. Abandonment. Had his flagrant retaliation prompted Cat to sever the mental bond intentionally? Easier to die a dishonorable death than to rid his system of this woman; he knew that now. In reality, he wanted to do neither. Wulfe watched a gracefully winged insect flutter through the sparkling air, its wings iridescent shades of golds and hints of greens. The colors reminded him of Cat's glorious amber eyes. Suddenly, he couldn't wait to get back to her. Chapter 15

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He left the away teams on the surface to finish their rebuilding and healing, and transported back to the ship. With any amount of luck or blessings from the Creator, Cat may have heard something about the children. Nora Albright met him outside the Falchion's main transport chamber. She talked with Frank Ellery, the transport chief in low tones, then turned to face Wulfe, her expression tight, closed. Professional. Her Earther−blue eyes held worry, though. Wulfe's heart plunged to the level of his knees. "What's happened?" "Catherine's waiting for you in your office." He swallowed past the heaviness suddenly blocking the back of his throat. "She hear something about the children? Have they been harmed? Tell me!" Albright shook her head. "As far as I know, she's heard nothing about Garrett and Morgan, but she did receive a message from someone. May I put in my two credits worth?" "If you hurry." "Captain, I know Catherine is a strong woman, but I'm worried about her. Did you know that an Erosian can go mad when the mental link with her mate is traumatically severed?" "No." Part answer, part denial. "Neither did I until Moira told me a few minutes ago." Chapter 15

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Wulfe left Albright behind, raced through the corridors, up the decks, cursing the slowness of his own two legs and the Falchion's lifts SHIVERING, CAT huddled into a corner of Wulfe's big chair behind his desk, her legs curled under her. The chair Wulfe filled so completely made her feel like a child in stature. The faint smell of aged leather surrounded her in the dark green room. Wulfe's office usually comforted her. Not this time. She turned to face the corridor entrance, toward the wave of concern breaking through the doorway just ahead of Wulfe. How could she tell him what she must? She'd used her last dram of strength over the course of the previous few days, had nothing left to give. "What's wrong, Cat? Is it the children?" She swung her legs out to the deck, stood to meet him. "I took a message from Roy Flemming." Cat fought to say the words without allowing her voice to quake. She crossed to the dispenser. "Wildfire brandy. Two." "By the gods, tell me." Cat took the tumblers, handed one to Wulfe. "Drink." Wulfe looked at the drink, at her, then downed part of the ration, set the glass on the Chapter 15

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corner of his desk. "How bad is this? Don't leave me hanging out here by myself, Cat." She took a sip herself, saved the larger portion for later. Maybe the brandy would help to numb the unbearable pain beginning to settle in. If she broke now, she'd never be able to glue the pieces of her mind back together. Madness would claim her without a battle. "Space Corps received a report of another Mallochon attack." "Mining colony?" "No." She could barely get the word past the ache in her throat. "The Yataghan has disappeared." Wulfe's expression reflected a second of blank incomprehension before understanding shocked the color from his face. "My brother's ship? Impossible!" "I hope you're right." Her hand shook on the way to her mouth, sloshed brandy over the rim. She waited until Wulfe picked up his glass, finished his drink and put the tumbler down again. She placed her empty glass next to his and stepped into his reaching arms. "If I could change the news, I would." "I know." He held her close. "Has this been confirmed?" Cat rested her cheek against his breastbone, heard his deep voice rumble through to her. Grief threatened to tear her apart inside. "The witness making the report−−a Bartern trader Chapter 15

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by the name of Sennog−−said the Yataghan and the Moon Maiden were both destroyed with no known survivors." Wulfe's arms went still as stone around her for the space of a heartbeat. "Cass's ship, too?" She turned her face into his chest, nodded. Grief clogged her throat too thickly to allow words to pass. Wulfe's arm tightened around her. "Ah, love, I grieve with you." "And I with you. It's such a shock...both of them." Cat's voice broke, faded away as the last rally of her inner strength deserted her. "What if...what if Garrett and Morgan were with Cass?" Air hissed into Wulfe's as if his teeth were clenched. "I will not believe that." "I don't want to, but what if?" Panic ripped through her with painful brutality. "Up until now I've been hoping this has all been some crazy mixup and that the children were happily in Cass's care. Now...Sweet Creator, they could all have died together." "No! Cass told Mother they weren't with her! We must now believe that message to be true." "Yes, yes you're right." She reached out mentally, instinctively searched for a breach in Chapter 15

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the barrier between them. She sensed a stirring, a spark of life in the bond. Hope flared, but she lost sight of the tiny spark, too weak to infuse any strength into the link. Hope died within her, the barrier remained impregnable. Cat sagged against Wulfe. Wulfe picked her up, carried her from the office, through the living are of his quarters and into the sleeping chamber they had shared. He placed Cat on the sleeper, knelt beside her, stroked her face with the barest touch of his fingertips. "Wulfe, make me forget, just for a little while." Cat began a slow unfastening of his uniform, touching, exploring. He reciprocated, touch for gentle touch, adored and worshiped her with subtle, sensual nuances while he removed her uniform. When they lay nude side by side, he lastly removed the double−tined copper hair pin, loosened the curls of her hair. In direct counterpoint to the fiery, consuming and possessing unions so natural to them as Bellons, Wulfe made slow, achingly tender love to her. He muted their grief with loving caresses, hushed their sorrow with gentle words and honored their losses with deep, nectar−sweet kisses. He took her to the heights so gently, so lovingly, Cat never realized they stood at the precipice until she plummeted over the edge. She took him with her in a soul−shattering Chapter 15

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cascade that bound them together with invisible, gossamer strands of rapture and devotion. Stunned by the ability of her husband to unwittingly, unerringly recognize what she needed, touched by his willingness to please her so, she silently cherished him. Cat basked in the heat of Wulfe's body and spirit, the warmth of his emotions. Only one emotion reigned supreme during their lovemaking. Pure love, untainted by doubts, resentments or jealousies. For that time, he loved her without restraint, but already she could sense the distractions creeping into his aura. The call of duty. The uncertainty that had surrounded them since the bonding link had been damaged. Grief, new and raw. Frustration at not remembering. The unresolved loss of the children. Keen disappointment lanced through her, further deepened by grief and frustration. Even after such a tender union, only her empathic ability reached Wulfe. The mental bond still refused her insistent call. Wulfe stirred next to her, his hands soothing her as he spoke. "I don't want to leave, but I must return to the bridge." "I know. I'll shower and−−" "No. Stay here and rest, if only for a short time. I'll grab a quick sonic shower and go up. Chapter 15

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Have you told any of our parents about Hawke and Cass?" "No. I simply couldn't bear it...and thought...until we receive official confirmation..." "I agree. Wait for the official notification." "If the report is true, at least Hawke and Cass died together, as they wanted to live." Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless. Wulfe raised up, supported himself with his elbow to the mattress. Confusion radiated from him. "What do you mean?" "Bonded to live as one, they died as one, if the reports are accurate. Now they're together for all eternity. They truly loved each other, enough to challenge the Tribunal." "You mean to tell me the Bellon Tribunal really did set aside the old tradition for them?" "Aye, for them, and the future of our world's unity and strength." Cat placed her palm to his cheek. "We have all sacrificed to that end, in one form or another." "Then we will see that Cass and Hawke did not die in vain." He brushed his lips across her forehead before leaving the chamber. WULFE MET WITH all the department heads except Cat. Other departments claimed bits and pieces of her rapidly dwindling sciences area. Science always lost out to Chapter 15

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pending war, unless the department encompassed a technology that served destruction. He found everything running smoothly and at peak efficiency, and expected nothing less. Immediately after the briefing, Wulfe contacted everyone he could think of, in and out of Space Corps, but no one had news of the children, his brother or Cass. Cat still held out hope that Uhlein's security logs would help, but he'd already lost faith for that slim chance. No; whoever had taken the children had acted with careful thought, and had done some planning. Something he himself had to do now. They'd been searching blindly, reacting out of fear and panic. Time to make cold−blooded plans, use efficient methods. Wulfe sat alone in a darkened corner of the wardroom to formulate his actions, facing the view port. The clear plazglass reflected the room behind him almost as well as a mirror. Positioned the way he was, he had a perfect view of Cat when she arrived. Cat headed in his direction, but crew members, new and old, quickly claimed her attention. She sat with a group of personnel and soon became engrossed in the multiple conversations. Recent arrivals to the wardroom stopped by her table in small groups or singly. Cat gave each and every one of them some form of encouragement, either with words, gestures or tired smiles. Veterans or newbies, the crew members sought her out, looking for guidance, advice, instruction, or simply a moment of her time. Chapter 15

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The whole thing irritated him beyond measure. His crew shouldn't depend so heavily on Cat. They should come to him. Not that he could ever be as much comfort to his crew. Wulfe took a second, then a third survey of the wardroom in the reflection. His crew. Over seventy percent of the new crew members−−and not just the flight teams−−claimed Bellon blood to one degree or another. He realized that of the seasoned portion of the crew, not a single member remained that had ever questioned his right to captain the Falchion, challenged his authority, or taken a dim view of Bellons in general. Bottom line: the troublemakers had been weeded out. Cat had overseen the transfer lists, but to what purpose? How far had the hand of Covert Ops delved into the internal workings of his ship? A cold anger and antagonism coiled through him. He would owe no allegiance to the Covert Corps, not after the damage the organization had done to his union with Cat or his unborn son so many painful years ago. He saw Mykal Lyon in the reflection, and his irritation rose in accordance with Lyon's proximity to Cat. Lyon stopped at her table with two ales and took an empty chair. Other crew members gradually faded away. Cat and the security chief talked together in quiet voices while they drank, each absorbed in what the other had to say. When Lyon escorted Chapter 15

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Cat from the wardroom, Wulfe clenched his teeth together so tightly his jaw ached. The sight of Cat leaving with another man ignited pure Bellon rage within him, though he covered the reaction quite honorably. Or so he thought until crew members in his path scrambled to get out of his way as he stalked from the wardroom. Cat linked arms with the man she'd come to think of as a brother. "I received the definite impression Wulfe wasn't in the mood to share his corner of the wardroom just now. I can't begin to tell you what your support has meant to me, Mykal. You've really outdone yourself." Lyon covered her hand with his as they walked closer to their respective quarters. "I'm trying to make up for lost time, I guess." "What do you mean?" He grinned at her, a boyish flash. "I never had a sister to worry over until you. Never had one to give a hard time, either. I find I rather like the part of brother." "It shows. You're very good. Mykal, I had no idea you'd get caught in the middle of something so complicated. You and Wulfe have been comrades for a long time." "We still are. The captain has important things on his mind right now. The children, the Mallochons, his brother, your sister. His failure to remember everything. You." Chapter 15

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"You're more generous than many would be in the same position, especially after he went off on you like that." Lyon stopped in the middle of the corridor. "What do you mean? The captain's said a few things, but nothing that seemed out of line, considering the circumstances." "Specifically, the incident in the gym. He should have known you'd never betray him. Wulfe was way out of line by attacking you." "Attacking me?" Lyon laughed, shook his head. "You've got it all wrong. The captain's unexpected arrival broke up a, ah, minor altercation I had with Manahan." "But I thought−−" "The captain may have had bodily harm on his mind, but he never got the chance. In fact, his arrival probably saved Manahan more broken bones; he already had several. Manahan didn't fly the next run because I confined him to quarters." Lyon continued walking, still tucking her hand against his arm. "But Wulfe had blood on his hands." "That was mine, all right. I was still standing−−well, leaning against the bulkhead−−when the captain came in. He tried to check me over for injuries and I bled on him for his trouble. About then, I think I slid down and met the deck." Chapter 15

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The sinking sensation in her middle hit bottom with a pronounced thud. Cat twisted her lips in a grimace. She realized relief figured in there somewhere; she'd had a hard time accepting what she'd thought she'd seen. "Oh, gods. I really gave Wulfe an earful about how to treat a loyal friend." "Ouch. That could explain part of his reaction to me." "It didn't help, that's for sure," Cat agreed. Lyon stopped in front of Cat's quarters. "Are you going to be able to rest now?" Cat considered giving Mykal glib little assurances, but his genuine concern radiated from him like a glowlamp, and she was so heartily sick of deception. "Probably not. I'm still waiting to hear from Uhlein's commander about the security logs. Seems to be taking forever. The uncertainty about the children and Fallon drives away even the thought of sleep or rest. And now the news about Cass and Hawke." "Maybe I should contact Uhlein's security chief, hustle things along a bit from the station." "They're short−staffed. With the personnel shuffle that's been going on recently, I'm amazed one hand knows what the other one is doing." "True enough, I suppose, though a nudge won't hurt. If you can't settle, let me know. I'll Chapter 15

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run a series of practice sessions with you." Cat sensed Wulfe's approach. She couldn't identify what angered him so, but his rage, hot and volatile, scorched her. Better to get Mykal out of the line of fire. She went up on tiptoe, gave him a quick kiss along his jaw and whispered, "Goodnight, my brother." Cat slipped into the privacy of her rooms. Once inside, she laid her forehead against the cool door panel, flimsy barricade that it was against the storm raging on the other side. What she wouldn't give to be able to walk into the middle of that storm and lose herself within its depths. If she allowed her control to slip, she could slide into madness. If she let her guard down too far, Wulfe could end up paying the price for her selfishness. Oh, but she'd give anything but the children and Wulfe's well−being to lose herself in Wulfe's arms right now. The intensity of Wulfe's emotions faded. A combination of distance on Wulfe's part and her own increased mental shielding, Cat figured. She knew her husband well enough to realize either he walked the ship in an effort to distract himself or sought relief in one of the exercise rooms. He'd always had trouble sleeping without her next to him, and she'd wager on the ship tour. Bloody wonderful. Wulfe hadn't attacked Lyon, hadn't even touched him. Grateful for Chapter 15

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that blessing, she now had to come up with a way to make amends without saying 'I'm sorry' to Wulfe. Could be a tricky endeavor. Bellons never said those words, or 'please', nor did they accept them. The words did not exist in Bellonese. Cat sat at the desk trying to come up with a workable solution. She picked up her journal, bit her bottom lip, turned the book over and over. Wondering exactly when Morgan had taken the wulfenite, she hoped the crystal made Morgan feel safe, wherever the girl might be. Her throat tightened at the thought she had no idea where her children were. Frustrated helplessness twisted her stomach into painful knots. Cat slammed the journal on the desk without opening the pages of the book, and hung her head. Something on the floor near the base of the desk glinted in the light. She reached for the sparkle, found Wulfe's broken necklace. Cat jingled the pieces of fine chain from one palm to another, considered the possibilities. Maybe, if she repaired the broken links of gold before she returned the necklace, and then told Wulfe she knew what happened to Lyon, the rift between them could be mended. Then again, maybe not. AN INVISIBLE weapon knifed through Wulfe's heart when Cat kissed Lyon. Aye, Chapter 15

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he'd suspected, but had never seen the proof until now. Garesh, but truth could be a painful instrument of torture. He pivoted away from the sight. His hasty steps took him to the deepest levels of the ship as he tried to outstride the sense of betrayal. Two complete circuits of the Falchion, more than two standard hours of time, failed to temper his mood. Wulfe entered the officers' gym, fully expecting to find the room deserted. Instead, he saw Cat and Mykal Lyon defending themselves in an exercise session. The intricacy of the exercise drew Wulfe to watch. His breathing deepened, quickened. Cat parried each thrust, her movements sure, smooth, sensual, as only his mate could make them, as she defended against her opponent. She went on the offensive, drove Lyon back. Lyon broke a sweat keeping Cat at bay. She sidestepped a forceful lunge from him, her body twisting seductively. Heat rose in Wulfe's body, the muscles in his groin tightened. The tempo of his breathing changed to match the rhythm of Cat's lungs. He found himself thinking of Cat using that sinewy aggression in bed. Now. He must have her. Wulfe saw the calculating gleam in her eye. She gauged Lyon's reaction time and focused her strength into her next backstroke. Lyon's blade flew out of his hand as he grunted in surprise. "Bravo. I'd be a dead Chapter 15

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enemy." He retrieved his falchion. "Your lack of practice the last couple of months hasn't been detrimental. You are still very good." Wulfe had to agree. Cat's work with the blade remained stunningly outstanding. "It would appear, Lieutenant, that you need the practice more than my first officer does." Wulfe moved close enough to allow Cat's spicy, erotic scent to reach him. Hot and seductive, her body's perfume worked the usual sorcery on him. "The element of surprise can be highly effective," Cat said easily. She turned her attention to inspecting the honed edge of her blade. But not before Wulfe saw the flush staining her regal cheeks, the look of hunger in her expression, or the smoky heat of arousal in her dark amber eyes. The knife twisted in his heart. Did her desire focus on her battle partner, Lyon, or for her mate? Could he accept the answer when he found the truth? Cat glanced in Lyon's direction. The security chief reacted immediately, as if capable of discerning her wishes. Wulfe wanted to turn away from the sight. He and Cat had once been able to feel what the other needed, but now...had their link been supplanted by one between Cat and Mykal Lyon? The knife twisted still deeper into his heart and managed to nick his soul. Chapter 15

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Lyon saluted both of them with his falchion. "I'll get on that repair schedule for the fighters as we discussed, Commander," he said briskly before leaving the gym. "Wulfe−−" Wulfe sliced his hand through the air, silencing her. "I need an honest answer from you. Now. Did you purposely end the mental link between us because I Abandoned you?" Surprise filled her amber eyes. Cat took hold of his hand and squeezed. "I would never intentionally do anything harmful to our bond." She turned his hand until his palm faced upward, let the gold links of his necklace flow like liquid gold. "If only I could repair our bond as easily as I did the broken links of the chain." The vicious knife that had been tormenting him withdrew, the wounds began to close. "Do you speak the truth?" "Would I have bothered mending the chain otherwise? We are stronger together, my Lord, as we stated in our vows. Combining our forces will bring the children home to us sooner." Wulfe tipped his hand over hers, poured the necklace into her palm. "Then perhaps you should put the chain where it belongs." He picked her up, held her so they looked eye to eye and Cat could clasp the chain around his neck. "I await−−" Chapter 15

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Lyon charged his way into the gym. "Captain! Commander! We have problems!" Cat, almost dropping the chain, slid from Wulfe's hold and spun to face the interruption. Wulfe groaned, then muttered, "More than you know, Lyon. What is it?" "The pilots that didn't fight the Mallochon ship have been flying patrol in three groups of three, as we discussed. One of the flight squads didn't return. We can't raise them on any frequency. All three are gone without a trace."

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Chapter 16 CAT WATCHED Mykal Lyon, Blackwood and Cervantes, each heading a flight squad, prep themselves for immediate launch. Wulfe's plan for them to go and her to stay made perfect sense, but that didn't make her feel any better. Against her inner voice warning her differently, she'd bowed to Wulfe's orders, but not being in control made her bloody twitchy. Doing something to find the missing pilots would go a long way toward making her feel better. After all, they were her responsibility. Just as she'd been responsible for putting the children in the predicament they were in now. If she'd kept them with her, or defied Corps protocol and gone with them herself, they'd be safe, not Creator knew where in the universe. Cat took a deep breath, forced herself to think with cold Syllogian logic. Hard to do when her mind and emotions grew more turbulent with every passing moment. An hysterical question flashed through her mind: Any chance Wheeler had left a vial of Endorphidrine behind? Cat shook that thought out of her head. The drug might ease her symptoms for a while, but in the end, she'd still plunge into madness. Better to tend to duty. She silently wished Lyon and his team a successful search, Chapter 16

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certainly for the sake of the pilots, but also so she and Wulfe could finish that small but important rite. A ripple of anticipation moved through her. She couldn't wait to put the bonding chain around Wulfe's neck where it belonged. Not one normally to be superstitious, Cat couldn't keep herself from seeing Wulfe's necklace as a symbol. Returning the chain to its proper place would somehow set things right and assure they'd find the children soon. Safe and happy. She would accept no other outcome or interference from Sister Fate. The scrambled flight squads launched, barely clearing the bay doors before her comm tag alerted her to a message. Seleen's loyal, ever−watchful eye, Cat figured, timing the interruption with utmost care. "Culver." 'You have an urgent transmission from Space Corps Command. Your eyes only, Commander.' "Hold and relay to flight bay control room on my command." Hope chased away part of terror ripping her apart inside, but she couldn't−− would not−−allow herself to rejoice yet. 'Aye.' Cat entered the control room and urged Ellery to take a break, trying to be tactful in her haste. "Ready, Seleen." Chapter 16

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The comm screen flickered from dark to the Corps Command insignia to Flemming's face. 'Catherine.' "Admiral, I don't mean to be rude, but unless you have something about the children, we're in the middle of trying to track a flight squad of fighters." 'I don't mean to be rude either, Catherine, but this is as important as three fighters and their pilots.' "Have you received some news about Hawke and Cass?" Her heart lifted, waiting for word about her family, but she sensed Flemming had anything but good news. 'Unfortunately, I've heard nothing about Cass and Hawke or the children. I do need someone with your clearance on Nutralis immediately.' "Nutralis? The Falchion can leave as soon as we find our pilots. You should have spoken with Wulfe, but I'll pass the order to him when−−" 'No. Take your own craft and go. Wulfe and the Falchion need to stay in the Sisyphus system a bit longer.' Cat's stomach contracted into a tight ball of frustration. Violent rebellion boiled through her. "You expect me to leave the Falchion while my children are still missing? Forget it!" 'Catherine, allow me to make myself clear. This is not a request. This is an order. You Chapter 16

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are to depart for Nutralis as soon as possible. This is your responsibility as a member of Covert Ops.' "Then, with all due respect, Sir, I'm not a Free Agent in Covert Ops, as of right now. My children come first. If anyone has information about them, this is where they will contact me." 'The Nutralis Council Chairman has received a death threat. He is a crucial component of the peace effort. We can't afford to lose him any more than we could afford to lose your father or your mother when they were kidnapped a few weeks ago.' "My children are my priority! Roy, you're asking far too much of me this time around." 'Maybe not. The chairman may have useful information.' "You mean about Fallon and the children?" The fine balancing act of her emotions teetered again, this time dangerously close to elation, prodded by sheer desperation. Costly emotions. "I find that highly unlikely." Flemming moved one meaty shoulder in a vague gesture. 'You did not hear those words from me.' Code words for 'maybe, but leave me out of the official loop on this one'. The crumb of hope Flemming held out to her stilled her protests, though she couldn't fathom how the Chapter 16

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council chairman would have come into such knowledge. Her mind worked madly, weighing the odds. Cat mentally shook herself. To the Underworld with odds, even at a million to one, if that one chance could bring news of the children and Fallon. "I'll explain the situation to Wulfe." 'You may tell him about the threat to the chairman if you wish, but nothing about the children, otherwise he'll want to go with you, and I can't allow that. Not yet, anyway.' "Do you have any idea how my husband will react when he thinks I've put the well−being of my children secondary to duty? That's what bloody well caused our separation to begin with! I can't do that to Wulfe again. He will go absolutely nova on me!" 'An unfortunate situation, I agree, but one that cannot be changed at this time. Then again, Catherine, Wulfe's reaction to your absence may not be as explosive as you imagine.' "Easy for you to say. You're not out in the middle of space with him and an airlock with your name emblazoned on the panel." Cat stepped as close to the comm unit as she could; her face had to fill Flemming's screen on the other end of the link. "I'll go, but if I even suspect you've falsely lured me with the children as bait, you've sent me on my last assignment. I won't play Covert's games at the expense of my family." Chapter 16

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'If I had anyone else I could send, I would. Also, when the chairman learned of your family ties, he seemed to relax a bit.' "Nice touch." Cat straightened, half−resigned to risking Wulfe's wrath in exchange for possible information about the children. "I'm trying to hold together a marriage that seems doomed to fail faster than a leaky oxygen tank in space vacuum, and you're telling me I have to leave my husband. I must be space happy even to listen." Flemming's face betrayed a sudden uneasiness. 'I'm trying to tell you that Wulfe may not be as troubled by your absence as you may think. Perhaps, considering the circumstances, distance between the two of you may not be a bad thing, Catherine. A warning sounded in her mind. Flemming seemed to be working mighty hard to say something without really spitting out the words. Cat detected numerous strands of emotion from the older man, none of them positive. Caution, worry, sadness, regret. And, worst of all, pity. She couldn't−−would not−−tolerate pity. "What are you trying so hard not to tell me?" 'This isn't easy for me to say and I regret the necessity. Wulfe put in a request to have you transferred off his ship.' "Oh, he did, did he?" She looked away from the screen, unwilling to see the compassion Chapter 16

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in Flemming's eyes and unable to allow him to see the agony that must show in hers. Wulfe wanted her gone. From far away, she heard a hollow thudding that meant her heart continued to beat despite the savaging Flemming's news inflicted, but she couldn't have proved the fact to anyone just now. "I wish Wulfe had told me himself. When did he ask this?" 'Actually, the request came more as a demand from him.' "Indeed." What in the universe had made her think Wulfe would be infuriated if she left? Arrogance, that's what. Her own out−of−control arrogance. Deep down, she'd believed Wulfe's love for her would overcome his failure to remember the good things, his propensity to recall only the bad. Why did he want her transferred off the Falchion? Did the bad outweigh the good in his mind? But then why the farce with the necklace? She knew bloody well he'd intended for her to fasten it around his neck. She'd like to put the chain there now and twist the links tight! How could Wulfe radiate loving emotions but still want her out of the holograph? Her head pounded with teeming doubts, swirled with insecurities. Nothing made sense anymore. She focused on duty, the only stable thing in her life right now. "Does the chairman have protection until I arrive?" Chapter 16

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'Some. The council guards are present, though they are not of your caliber. The chairman has never received a direct threat of this nature, and it's thrown all of them. Nutralis really does need your expertise and practical guidance right now.' "I'll go, so don't waste time and energy on flattery." She broke the comm link. "Computer, location of Captain Kincade." Captain Kincade is in the captain's office. He would probably be there for a while. Good. She didn't think she could face him yet and successfully keep the extent of her anguish from him. The too−raw hurt pierced her, heart and soul, with unrelenting force. "Computer, open a communication channel to Station Uhlein, station commander or head of security." Standby. Cat waited. She used the delay to bolster her flagging courage. By leaving the ship now instead of staying to fight for their union, she figuratively drove the last rivet into the casket holding her marriage. With her own sonic wrench. Maybe, but Wulfe held the power pack for the blasted wrench−−his request to get her off the Falchion−−and seemingly couldn't wait to charge the bloody thing. 'Commander Culver? My name is DiMarco. I'm Uhlein's security chief. I'm the one who Chapter 16

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reviewed our security logs.' "What did you find?" 'About five minutes worth of your children and their nurse on our docking ring alpha with a Space Corps captain by the name of Wheeler, Erich Wheeler, of the SCF Orion.' Blast, Wheeler had gotten back to Uhlein in time to speak with Fallon. Poor, gullible girl probably vowed to remain true to him, too. "Where did they go after speaking with Wheeler?" 'They entered the personnel lift.' "And?" Any remaining patience vanished like mist in the hot, dry Sacred Wind. 'Wheeler,' her paranoid mind whispered. The security officer ran a finger around the inside of his uniform collar. 'When the lift stopped several levels later, the children and their nurse weren't inside.' Cat slapped the table top on either side of the comm screen, unable to rein in the intense anger surging through her. "I swear, DiMarco, if you don't tell me everything you know, the next time I'm on Uhlein I'll take out your tonsils with my dagger, and I won't bother honing it first!" DiMarco swallowed audibly. 'The children and nurse never reappear on our security Chapter 16

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logs.' "They didn't evaporate all by themselves!" 'No Ma'am. We believe they were transported out. We discovered residual readings indicative of a translocator beam, but no way to trace the ship of origin or the destination.' "Did you find any trace signatures?" 'Only those found in a standard Space Corps translocator.' Any hint of where they'd gone vanished with the news. "Or any one of a hundred different worlds that use the same type of equipment, so we have no definite leads." 'Aye, that's the case. Your security chief, Lyon, received a roster of vessels from us. I hope that helped some.' "Didn't do us much good, other than verifying what you just told me." Not one bloody bit of good, and no further hope. 'A Space Corps translocator, as on Wheeler's Orion,' her floundering mind warned her. 'I do have one piece of good news for you.' "I could use some, DiMarco." 'The body we found wasn't the missing nurse. Turned out to be a pleasure worker from a casino barge.' Chapter 16

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Relief swept through Cat, then remorse that another woman had forfeited her life. Sweet Creator, the children weren't alone. Fallon must still be watching over Garrett and Morgan, protecting them. Unless the children had been with Cass. 'Wish we could have done more. Sorry, Commander.' "Not as much as I am," Cat said to the blanked screen. Her head pounded with relentless force now. She opened a link to Wulfe before she could change her mind. 'Kincade.' "Wulfe, we need to talk." Her mental shields went up, an instinctive reaction to protect herself. She left them in place. 'I can meet you in the officers' mess in about an hour.' "Something immediate would be better, Captain." The empty silence on the comm link almost made her wince. "Privacy for this particular meeting might be a good idea." 'Put that way, make it star cartography in five minutes.' "Agreed." Cat took a deep breath, closed the comm link. Her stomach bounced around like an activated aeroball while she tried to figure out a way to tell Wulfe she intended to leave. Then again, in view of the request he'd put into Command, he probably couldn't wait to see her go. Chapter 16

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Cat entered the main section of star cartography. The deck beneath her feet, fabricated of the usual biranium and plazsteel construction, supported her within the clear plazglass of the huge stardome. The optically pure clear bubble, completely undetectable unless you got close enough to touch, made her feel as if she walked among the stars, part of the Celestial Glory. An ethereal place to visit, the dome remained one of her favorite haunts, especially with only the radiant glow of the stars to light her way. Cat tipped her head back, allowed the endless view of space to encompass her until a sense of free fall caught her up in a temporary retreat, a sensation of pleasurable floating through time and space. Somewhere−−out there, Creator willing−−her children waited for her. The doors behind her slid open and closed with a soft whish. The infinitesimal sound of Wulfe's footsteps came closer. The fact that such a massive body moved so silently never ceased to amaze her. His arm went around her, pulled her back against his body until her knees wanted to go weak. Wulfe's musky male−scent and his possessive, familiar touch threatened to make her resolve falter, too. Cat sensed curiosity, grief, the potent stirring of desire. So much for the effectiveness of her reflexive mental shields. She reinforced the barriers, isolated herself Chapter 16

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from him emotionally. In turn, the strategy kept her own fear, grief and desire hidden away. "Did you hear something about Garrett and Morgan, ma'ten?" With an intentionally detached, emotionless voice, Cat recited a nearly verbatim account of her communication with Uhlein's security chief. "It's a relief to know that Fallon is not in the station's morgue. She will protect the children for us, Cat." Wulfe shifted his stance, allowed the heat of his growing hardness to press against her back. He moved her hair aside, traced the line of her neck with warm lips until he found the most sensitive spot. He seemed to remember that well enough. Slow delicious shivers rippled along her spine, through her limbs. Wulfe cupped one breast in his hand, squeezed the sensitive nipple, sending a new wave of shivers right to the soles of her feet. Heat coiled low in her belly, tight and eager and feverish, waiting for the slightest chance to explode. "Did you want to talk to me about something else important, or did you simply have the need to be distracted again?" Wulfe's voice resonated from deep inside him, and she felt the bass vibrations against her shoulder blades and spine. A wonderful, powerful voice until filled with anger. Or, worse, chill indifference. Blast! Chapter 16

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Her mouth and tongue didn't want to move−−except maybe against his. Fantasy, all fantasy. Rude fact intruded now. "I'm going to give you what you want." "Are you now?" He asked in his deep voice. Wulfe nipped her ear, growled softly. "No wonder you sounded so urgent." "Ha!" Her heart had shattered and he spoke of sex. "Cat, ever since we...the fact that we were able to comfort one another so effectively−−" "Effectively?" Effective! One of the most profoundly moving encounters of her life and he called it effective! "Successfully, then. However you wish to describe our coming together, the experience has renewed my faith in our ability to make our union the glorious one destiny and fate intended." Her heart plummeted in response. Why now? Why hadn't he said these words before she'd received the orders to leave? Once again Sister Fate twisted and reshaped anything resembling fairness. "Wulfe, you can't be sure of that when you can't remember what we shared. Or, more tellingly, what we didn't share." His hurt puzzlement pierced her mental shields, made her writhe inside until she strengthened them again. The bravest, strongest warriors sheltered the most fragile of egos, Chapter 16

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and she wanted no part in the disintegration of Wulfe's. "Perhaps if we resumed a normal union, I would recall the past with greater ease." His teeth grazed the side of her neck. "I've considered that possibility, and it might work but for one thing." Two, actually, the first being him wanting her gone. "What stops us?" Cat moved away from Wulfe and his mesmerizing touch capable of stealing her ability to think. "I'm leaving the Falchion." "Say again." Wulfe's voice had gone precise. "I must have misunderstood your words." She deliberately used the same tone. "I will be absent from the Falchion for an undetermined length of time. I plan to leave immediately." Wulfe grabbed her arm. "You think you can come and go as you please, at the slightest whim on your part?" Cat swung around to face him, instantly realized her error when she saw the starglow illuminate the fiercely striking lines of his face, now marred by harsh anger. She doubted anything could cause the ache in her heart to grow any more hurtful. She'd trek through the Underworld before allowing him to see that hurt, though. She redoubled her effort to hold Chapter 16

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the mental barriers in place. Pride and honor would not allow her to reveal such a weakness to him. "My decision is a little more than a whim." "Really. Where do you think you're going?" Wulfe pulled her so close she had to angle her head way back to see his face. A definite tactical disadvantage for her. "I have to go to Nutralis." Hope seemed to flare in his eyes. So. Flemming hadn't misunderstood Wulfe's demand. He wanted her gone from his precious ship. Or did she intentionally misread his feelings to salve her conscience? "Have you heard something about the little ones? Are they on Nutralis? Or do you have news of our siblings?" More deceptions−−gods, how she detested them, even deception by omission. "I've been ordered to Nutralis to help protect the council chairman. He's received a death threat." He fairly bristled with suspicion. Wulfe's grip on her tightened. "And you're off to save his peace−loving butt." Cat ignored the resentment in his voice and tried to temper her own. "Aye, I'll try to keep him safe." "No," Wulfe said flatly. "Absolutely not." Chapter 16

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So typical. She felt like they'd regressed eight years. Wulfe so easily fell right back into the old pattern of trying to control her. Buried resentments welled up in her, plummeted over the dividing line into anger. "Exactly what will stop me?" "Not what. Who." Wulfe leaned down, intent on her mouth. "The starlight does incredible things to your already beautiful face, my wife. Too bad it doesn't touch your heart as well." This could be her last chance to feel his lips on hers. Something as hot and powerful as anger burned through her. Bellon desire. She didn't have time for his idea of sport. Cat took possession of his mouth, reveled in the heat of his physical reaction, the flambeau of his turbulent emotions. The intensity of her own response threatened to force her remaining rational thought into complete oblivion. She broke away while her mind still functioned. "That's some kiss for someone who's so anxious to get rid of me." "Whatever gave you that idea?" "Have you lost your honor along with your memory? I know you demanded Flemming transfer me, so don't begin lying to me now." Trying to figure out why Wulfe could ignore the facts made her feelings even more confused and hopelessly tangled. Chapter 16

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"That was before I realized−−" Cat cut him off, unwilling to waste her failing energy on a lost cause. "You got your way, even if only for a little while. I won't be back until we can be reasonably sure the chairman is safe." "Since when do you act as a Shield for someone?" "I didn't say that. The chairman has a security force of his own. They only need some temporary leadership." "Look me in the eye and tell me that if it comes down to saving the chairman's life, you won't act as a Shield and take the hit for him?" Cat shook her head. He might not remember every detail of her Covert work, but he intuitively knew many things, including her instinctive and trained reactions toward someone under her protection. "I didn't think so. You'd risk your life for a stranger, risk the possibility of depriving the children of their mother?" That stung. She had to bite her tongue yet again to keep from blurting out the entire truth of her trip to Nutralis. "Back off, Wulfe. I don't have an option here." One more item over which she had no Chapter 16

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control. If only Flemming had given her the choice to tell Wulfe the truth. "Not even if I said I didn't want you to go?" "Your words, even if you meant them, wouldn't change the orders I've received." She didn't dare admit to him how very much she wanted to stay with him. Pride and honor wouldn't allow her to ask Wulfe to explain why he wanted her gone. Wulfe had demanded Flemming remove her, so how could he tell her he wanted her to stay? He couldn't and maintain his honor. "Is this another one of your Covert operations?" "I told you; the orders came from Admiral Flemming." "But he's doing Covert's bidding without realizing it, yes?" Cat refused to answer, unable to lie to him, unwilling to expose Flemming as Covert. For the sake of his mind, Wulfe needed to remember the details on his own. His arm fell away from her. "So you're off at Covert's behest without a second's hesitation, without any consideration of what I want, without even a thought of your own children. Here we go again! What the narg is wrong with me?" "But you're the one−−you wanted−−" "I want a lot−−evidently too much! I want a mate who will stand by me! I want a mate Chapter 16

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who will put her children first, no matter what! I want a mate who loves and respects her Lord enough to accept him the way he is, for what he is!" He could have run her through with his falchion and injured her less. "Has it ever occurred to you that I want−−that I very much need−−the same things you do, Wulfe?" "Oh, aye! You've really proven that to me! I can't believe I thought, for even a moment that I−−that we−−do you not have a mere nuance of Bellon honor and responsibility in you?" "Honor and responsibility?" Exactly the qualities that had gotten her into this bloody mess. Rage, harsh and hot, bubbled through her. Whatever else Wulfe felt, his own anger and resentment overshadowed everything, made him oblivious to reason and any truths standing before him. In his present state of mind, he'd never believe her even if she revealed how much she loved him. "I've had it up to here," Cat jerked her hand level with her eyes, "with honor and responsibility, so if it makes you feel better to believe I have none, fine. Guilty as charged. Not a nuance to be found." "Ah. The truth at last. A rarity from you, it seems. Allow me to tell you a truth, ma'ten. If you leave my ship now, without knowing how or where the children are, you needn't bother Chapter 16

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coming back." "Don't hand out ultimatums to me, Wulfe! You may not like the results you get." The pit of her stomach burned with pent−up, frustrated rage. "In fact, I guarantee it." "I haven't liked much that's happened so far. I will find the children and I will keep them with me. You will not exist for any of us. Can you live with that reality?" Sweet Creator, she'd been so wrong! The hurt in her heart could become infinitely worse! The pain went through to her very soul. She wasn't strong enough to survive this! "If that is what you truly want, Wulfe, that is what you shall have. I don't exist for you and will be gone from your ever−precious ship in ten minutes!" She fought an internal war; her feet wanted her to move now, but her mind insisted she say one last thing. "While you're considering truth, husband, contemplate these words: More and more I've come to believe that if the children have been taken by someone, your near and dear friend Erich Wheeler is involved." "You're out of your mind!" "Quite possibly." Cat turned and left the stardome. The muscles in her face froze, kept her expression calm, serene, while underneath, agony screamed through her. She could have sworn she'd felt love and caring emanate from Wulfe−−before her words destroyed Chapter 16

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the warm emotions and her marriage. That short walk turned out to be the longest of her life and cost her every dram of strength and control she possessed. Only Garrett and Morgan's well−being could have convinced her to leave. If she didn't find word of the children on Nutralis, she'd destroyed their union for naught. By the time she reached the flight bay, she'd pushed the pain and confusion into a neat little ball and shoved the mess into a corner of her mind to be isolated, walled off, ignored, exactly the way her heart felt. Helpless, hopeless, so alone. So bloody tired of being one of the walking wounded, she was within a heartbeat of writing off her marriage as a lost cause. STANDING STILL and remaining silent while Cat walked out of his life tested every level of control he'd developed over years of training and effort. Bleak loneliness ambushed him, the load burdened by bereavement and emptiness. Unable to look any longer at the shut door−−closed on dreams, on hopes, on the future−−Wulfe spun around to see the cold stars. Instead of welcoming him, the glow mocked him with what he recognized as the truth. No one to blame but himself. 'And the naked, brutal truth shall set ye free'. Wulfe grimaced. Unless the pain of such Chapter 16

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veracity kills you in the process. He'd wanted her gone, he'd gotten his wish and should be pleased. A bright silver and gold flash streaked overhead. The Peacemaker. Cat leaving−−taking his heart−−as she'd been ordered by Flemming. At the request of her mate. "Computer, open a channel to Admiral Roy Flemming, relay to my comm tag." Stand by. Aye, the truth could kill, if only your heart and soul, and still leave the body to carry on in blind servitude. But to even consider Wheeler to have a hand in the children's disappearance! 'Wulfe?' "Sir, did you issue the order for Cat to go to Nutralis?" 'Hello to you, too. I did. Took me a while to find a legitimate reason to honor your, ah, firm request, I'm afraid.' Wulfe kneaded the muscles at the back of his neck with one hand. "Seems like a lifetime ago when we had that discussion." 'Wulfe, has the situation altered in some way?' "Only for the worse." In truth, he'd forgotten about his demand of the admiral until Cat Chapter 16

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mentioned it. Admitting he'd been wrong stuck in his throat, lodged there by Bellon pride. "Roy, do you have an estimate how long Cat will be needed on Nutralis?" 'Not offhand. The length of her stay will be determined by several factors, not the least of which is how desperate the Mallochons really are to get to the chairman or how unprepared his own security force is at the moment. Why?' "I've been thinking−−" The main doors to the stardome opened. Nora Albright strode into the starlight, her face set in determined lines. "Admiral, I'll have to get back to you," Wulfe advised. 'I'll be waiting to hear.' The link went dead. "What is it, Doctor?" "I've been trying to find Catherine. The blasted computer keeps telling me she isn't aboard." "Because she's not." "She didn't go chasing off with Lieutenant Lyon after those missing pilots, did she?" "No." Right about now, that's exactly where he wished Cat had gone, and here he'd been the one to order her to stay on the Falchion while Lyon handled the matter. Another bad Chapter 16

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call. "Are you certain? Frank Ellery just told me Catherine's fighter is gone, as well." "Cat left to go to Nutralis." Albright's mouth opened, closed, then opened again. "She did what?" The doctor looked up through the dome at the stars and shook her head. "She never said a word." "She didn't have time. Her orders stressed the importance of her immediate departure. We've managed without her in the past, Doctor. We will manage without her now. The cold little wench can take care of herself." Albright looked at him as if she beheld some sort of monster or even Garesh himself. An expression of disbelief distorted her face. "All the brain scans I've been doing on you the last few days have been completely useless. I should have been running scans to try and find your heart and conscience. Next time you need medical attention, make certain it's on Moira's shift." "Doctor, do not take that tone." Albright made a rude sound of disgust. "Oh, blow it out your Bellon pride." She took a deep breath. "How was Catherine acting? Emotional swings? Depression? Anger?" "Probably all that and more. Why?" Chapter 16

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"Remember what I said about Erosians? Her reactions could be symptoms of the problem. If I'm right, I'm living a doctor's worst nightmare." "What do you mean?" Albright pushed a splayed hand through her short hair. "I don't like it, but I might have to choose who stays sane." "Help whomever needs your assistance the most." "A doctor can't always..." her voice broke, "...do that. If I spend time on the weaker patient, the stronger may die of neglect, and the weaker one dies anyway." "So what do you do?" "Looks to me as though you've survived pretty well without the link." Albright's eyes filled with moisture, prompting a ghostly image into Wulfe's mind. A memory of some kind? Albright turned and stomped away. At the doorway, she stopped and turned to face him. "Heard any good nursery rhymes lately?" "Bah!" Wulfe glared at the closed set of doors as if he could see the blond Earther on the other side. Lot she knew. He hated nursery rhymes of any sort. Albright's words left a chill behind, though; a cold sense of unease that scrabbled up his back on nasty little feet. Chapter 16

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Chapter 17 CAT RAN SENSOR scans of surrounding space as she approached Nutralis. All clear. She disengaged the secret shrouding device on her specialized fighter and dropped back into normal space before she reached the planet's scanner range. Wouldn't do to have anyone else aware of the little ship's uncommon capabilities. She eased the Peacemaker into orbit. Cat welcomed the slight turbulence in the atmosphere around Nutralis, a sign she'd reached the last leg of her journey. She normally relished the occasional solitary flight through the grandeur of space, but this time out, her thoughts made miserable company and the trip seemed far longer than it should. Frankly surprised she could think at all−−how many days had she gone with only a handful of hours spent in sleep?−−Cat made no claim even to herself that her thoughts contained pure logic. The driving compulsion to follow each and every clue about the children demanded she come to Nutralis. Duty to the Corps−−Space and Covert−−forced her to be here. Still, she'd left a good−sized chunk of her heart back on the Falchion, a bruised and battered chunk, at that. Chapter 17

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The enticement Flemming used to get her here had better bear fruit. If the trip didn't provide information about Garrett and Morgan, she'd have to do some in−depth reckoning with the old admiral. Good news would make her return to the Falchion more welcome, too, and return she would. She'd hated to leave Wulfe when he believed she didn't care about him or the children. They'd both said so many things in anger, things not truly meant. She hoped. Cat intended to set Wulfe straight, even if she had to encase him in a forcefield to hold him still long enough to hear her. Cat focused, ran through a series of quick mental exercises meant to foster logic. Many times in recent days, various sides to her personality warred within her. Earther wanted to destroy Syllogian; Bellon fought to tear apart the Erosian. Madness. The chairman's personal aide met her at the spaceport and made arrangements to transport her to the center of Nutralia, the largest city and home of the Peace Council and many of its members. Within seconds, the translocator did its job. "The chairman is waiting for you in his private office." Once they reached the council's main building, the aide ushered her through the heavy doors, shut them behind her. "Commander Culver, welcome. I can't begin to thank you for coming." The elderly Chapter 17

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statesman clasped her hands with both of his, gave a firm squeeze to each, charmed her with a smile. Cat returned the conventional hand greeting of Nutralis while she searched the diplomat's face. His light gray eyes revealed little of the nervousness and anxiety she sensed−−emotions he seemed to feel for those around him, but not so much for himself. An accomplished statesman regardless of the stress put upon him, he'd made an art of putting others at ease with little effort. "I hope I'm able to help, Mister Chairman." He led her to a divan so they could sit together. "We wish to help you in return for your generous aid, Lady Cat." Her heart raced in anticipation. Flemming hadn't led her astray! "One of our people said you might." "We received a message telling us that the Kincade children are unharmed." Urgent, excited questions ricocheted through Cat's mind. She had to clamp her jaw tight to keep from interrupting and slowing the chairman's news with queries and doubts. "Five little words that sounded very important to us and to your Admiral Flemming when we contacted Space Corps. He assured us you would arrive shortly." "And so I have." Relieved Flemming's manipulation might actually pay off, Cat Chapter 17

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squeezed the chairman's soft, uncalloused hands, surprised her own remained steady. New hope coursed through her, though she tried to contain any exultation until she verified the information. "Can you tell me where the message originated?" "Answering that particular question is impossible at the moment." "What? Why?" Unease roiled to the surface. Would nothing ever go right again? Panic, confusion and doubt had become constant companions. "Why in the universe would they send the message here, anyway?" "Perhaps because we are considered neutral in all things. Whoever sent the transmission routed the message through several levels of relays yet to be sorted. Our most experienced communication specialist is backtracing the sequence now." Heat filled her eyes even as impatience whipped through her. Leaving the tracking to someone else didn't sit well. "Blessings upon the Creator and you, Mister Chairman. I−I can't begin to find words to express my appreciation for your assistance." "Your words are unnecessary. My security force, however, awaits your very necessary guidance. This business of the threats has thrown everyone into disarray. No one has ever had the audacity to threaten Nutralis or our Council. We've always remained carefully neutral, tried to bring peace to everyone." Chapter 17

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"By promoting peace, Malloch sees you as the ultimate enemy. I must meet your team leaders. Examine profiles of each member and their training. I need accurate floor plans of the Council buildings. Current schematics of Nutralis's defense systems. Communication systems, too." The chairman laughed, smoothed back his thinning white hair. "Such dedication, and look at the light in your marvelous eyes! I haven't been able to do that to a woman for many a cycle, and here talk of defenses manages to do so." Cat gave him a smile to soften her reflexive demands. Without conscious thought, she'd fallen into speaking the abbreviated sentences so often used to get to the point on a vessel or in a combat situation. If the chairman thought she'd been short just now, he should hear the clipped, precise Bellonese commands. Offworlders thought the warriors cold and rude until they understood how Bellons adopted a battle mode of speech. She proceeded to enforce strict mental shields to keep herself emotionally isolated from those around her, the most efficient way to work. In a matter of a few hours, working with robot−like efficiency, she managed to lay the groundwork for an updated defense plan. A strategy for the Council compound came first, then the city of Nutralia, and finally the small planet itself−−all woefully inadequate or completely nonexistent at the time of her Chapter 17

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arrival. With preparations well into the implementation stage, she found her way to the offices of the communication director. Cat introduced herself to the middle−aged woman and asked the director if she had a few spare minutes. "Come in, Commander, and take a break from security." "How's your investigation progressing on that message?" "Slow, Commander. So far, I've traced the transmission back through sixteen relay points, with no end in sight. The coding is basic and presents no real obstacle, so all I need is time." "Time." Patience worn thin, Cat exhaled a slow breath meant to promote control. Someone's feelings now leaked in around the edges of the barriers she'd erected, distracting her. Once done here, she'd have to investigate. "At least the transmission contained a positive message." "Very positive," the communication specialist agreed. "If one can believe the information contained within the missive." "You don't, Commander?" "Make no mistake, I want to, more than anyone will ever know, but have yet to see a Chapter 17

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solid reason for doing so." The first flush of jubilation had faded hours ago when she decided the message was too good to be true. Unable to ignore the odds, Cat nurtured only faint hope at this point. Better than none, though. A knock sounded at the door. "Enter," the director called. One of the council aides poked his head into the office. "Commander Culver, you have a visitor eager to see you." "Me? Be right out." Cat asked the communication director to page her when the original source of the transmission finally turned up, then stepped into the hall, curious who'd stopped by to meet her. "Greetings, Daughter." Dove Burnelle swept her dark hair over one shoulder. Her flawless face carried a welcome smile. "Mother!" Cat found her shocked self enfolded in the warmth of a hug so typical of Dove Burnelle. Unreserved, wholehearted and loving. "What are you doing here?" Dove made a chiding, motherly sound of reproof that seemed out of place from someone so athletic and vibrant. "Not exactly the welcome I would have liked." "I'm thrilled to see you, Mother, but thoroughly surprised." Cat returned Dove's hug, immediately sensed the moment her mother released a portion Chapter 17

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of the tight control she'd held over her emotions. Love and warmth enfolded Cat, as tangible as her mother's arms. She brushed her fingers to her mother's temple, felt a stirring of some unnamed emotion still under guard. Cat said nothing, but wrapped an arm around her mother's trim waist, welcoming Dove's arm over her shoulder. "What brings you here?" "Among other things, the chairman and I aim to lay the groundwork for a peace pact with the Mallochons." "How likely are you to succeed?" "In truth, we're not, but we must attempt every possibility." "I sincerely wish you success. Watch your back, though, Mother. The chairman received several death threats." "Ah, that explains your presence, then, Daughter mine." "I'll assign a special security detail for you. Stars, I wish I had Mykal Lyon for the job." She rattled on about finding suitable escorts and setting duty shifts, anything to avoid discussing the children for as long as possible. The painful subject would only lead into more unbearable revelations. How could she tell Dove that her younger daughter was believed dead? Cat looked up into her mother's sparkling brown eyes, then gauged the increased width Chapter 17

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of the cinnabar−colored streaks in her long dark hair. The additional cinnabar shading seemed more a result of the stress from the Mallochons having kidnapped Dove and Aidan, rather than anything to do with aging. In fact, her mother's wrinkle−free skin positively glowed with healthful vitality. "You should have told me you planned on visiting Nutralis." "My darling daughter, I tried, but when I contacted the Falchion, a very hostile Bellon captain informed me in no uncertain terms that you had left the ship and would not be returning." "He thinks. I'll return, if only to get in the last word. Leave it to Wulfe to break such news to my mother with so little subtly. I must teach him the meaning of the word one day. Perhaps at sword point." "I'd pay to see that particular lesson, Daughter. What in the Sacred Sands is going on?" Cat glanced ahead of them, spied an exit to the council's inner courtyard. "How soon must you meet with the chairman?" "Not until I'm satisfied my Firstborn has explained a few things to me. You're unhappy. Wulfe's unhappy." "Unhappy? Mother, if Bellons cried, I'd have wept an ocean by now. As for Wulfe, he should be jumping with joy. He wanted me to leave his bloody ship, and went so far as to Chapter 17

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demand I be transferred." "Bah! Men." Dove gestured to a stone bench off to one side of the sandy courtyard. "Leave that topic for the time being. If you won't bring up this next subject−−which you seem to be avoiding−−I will. I want to know why the little ones haven't been found. I want to hear everything. Now." Cat recognized the familiar tone of that order. She told her mother the major points of the last few days, albeit a sanitized version. No point in letting Dove know how completely her older daughter's life had disintegrated. Her mother would sense enough to make her want to help as it was. Dove leaned back, folded her arms across her body, looked skyward. "This business regarding the message..." Cat nodded, agreeing with but not liking the uneasy skepticism emanating from her mother. "Too easy, isn't it?" "That is my fear." Dove lowered her sight from the bright sky, blinked several times while she stared at the soft, white sand. "Children are not meant to be pawns." Cat's stomach spasmed in painful reaction. The unexpected flood of emotions from her mother shocked her. Dove, usually so in command, wavered on the edge of an emotional Chapter 17

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tide. "Mother? Are you unwell?" "Do I look ill?" "No. Truthfully, you appear radia−−Glory's Gate!" Dove's brown eyes reflected an inner joy even Garrett and Morgan's disappearance couldn't completely overshadow. "Guess your father and I made the most of our days and nights together after Cass and Hawke rescued us from the Mallochons. You can expect a baby sister in a few months." "Another sister? Just as well. A boy would be spoiled beyond bearing at this point. Here I thought C−Cass would be the next one to add to the Burnelle family tree. Well, it's no wonder you're broadcasting emotions all over the place." "That bad?" "I'm surprised I didn't sense you before you hit orbit." "You would have if I hadn't deliberately shielded my emotions from you, though the effectiveness of my mental barriers fluctuates with my hormones." Dove brushed her fingertips against Cat's temple. "We will have time to discuss this pending arrival once we've settled all these other matters. I have tried very hard not to pry, but I'm sensing another sadness within you. A grief that has nothing to do with your husband or children. I Chapter 17

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felt it the strongest when you mentioned your sister. It has something to do with Cass, doesn't it?" Cat intended to deny the truth and pain, keep the news from her mother, but Dove would never let go of the strand of emotion she'd discovered. Nor would Dove ever forgive her if she avoided the truth. She cast about in her mind for the gentlest words. "Understand this has not been confirmed, Mother. I received a preliminary report...suggesting the, uh, possibility that the Moon Maiden and the Yataghan were destroyed without any survivors among the crews." "Indeed," her mother said, invoking the single word used by Cat's unflappable ambassador father when confronted with something unexpected. "I sensed nothing of this earlier. A result of my pregnancy, I'm sure." Dove swallowed once, then looked skyward again, her exquisite face transformed into bleak lines that erased the youthful vitality present such a short time ago. "And your feelings on this bit of...unconfirmed news?" "My instincts haven't been too accurate lately, Mother, but they tell me not to abandon hope of their survival. I won't give up." The grimness in Dove's face diminished. "Nor will I." Cat knew with certainty that her mother tucked away the anguish over Cass's fate. Once Chapter 17

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alone, the Dove would allow her heart to shatter from the grief. Still in privacy, Dove would then pick up the pieces and mend herself the best she could. Dove gave the impression of squaring her shoulders without any movement beyond breathing. Eventually she lowered her gaze and broke the silence. "Your instincts usually hit the target laser−true. Look how you fought the odds to save your marriage only months ago. Done splendidly, by the way." "Lot of good that did me. I'm beginning to think I'm not cut out for a lifetime bonding with Wulfe or any other man." "Nonsense. If you and Wulfe aren't destined to spend eternity together, no one in this universe is." The door they'd used to gain access to the warm courtyard opened. A short tiny−boned woman with reddish−blond hair smiled at Dove and then stepped outside. "This must be your Firstborn, Lady Burnelle." "Another reason I'm here," Dove said quietly to Cat, then called out, "Come, join us, M'Lissa." She introduced Cat and the little Erosian. "M'Lissa came from Erosia with me. Think the Falchion can make good use of an accomplished Seeker?" Surprised by the question, Cat returned M'Lissa's gentle smile and nodded in quick Chapter 17

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agreement. "A Seeker could be a remarkable tactical advantage. I should warn you, though, that a large portion of the Falchion crew claims Bellon blood. We can be an unruly lot during the best of times." Dove angled her head toward the little Erosian. "Have I mentioned that my daughter is prone to understatements?" M'Lissa's laugh sounded almost like a delicate melody. "So I've been told. Not to worry, Lady Cat. My life has been anything but isolated. Bellons do not worry me." Cat gave the frail−looking woman an appraising glance. "Ah, well, give it time. You will learn to be wary." WULFE SAT IN the captain's chair, mentally reviewing the last few hours. He'd lost the presence of a mate, but thanks to Lyon, he'd regained three fighters and their pilots. Lyon and his team found the missing flight squad floundering off course in an asteroid field with abnormally high magnetic readings. Inexperience always told. Lyon's reaction to Cat's departure had been stoic acceptance and a silence that spoke volumes to Wulfe. If there had been any attachment beyond friendship between the two, Lyon would never have remained so calm. Chapter 17

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Which meant Wulfe's accusations toward Cat had been without just cause, something he'd known in his heart all along. He ground his teeth together, as if eating the words he'd thrown at her. He had to find the chance to make things right. The Falchion also received word of two more mining installations being attacked by the Mallochons. Their random, hit−and−run strikes still made no sense to him. The Mallochons seemed to be strafing mining operations that had nothing to do with the scarce plunarium needed to power their shrouding devices. Mallochons, though prone to do things from sheer spiteful evil, must be working from sort of master plan to spend so much time on the air−to−ground attacks. He had only to reason it out. Wulfe tightened the leather thong in his hair. He couldn't get Albright's smart−assed comment about the nursery rhyme out of his mind. Originally, he dismissed her taunt as Earther foolishness, but the gibe created an unexpected sense of deja vu. Something in him wanted to make sense of the doctor's words. Sooner or later, he'd find the reason. "The Egyptian is in orbit over Sisyphus, Captain, and is prepared to assume duty. Our away teams have returned." Seleen checked the readouts on her control panel. "All stations report they are ready for hyperspace at your command." Wulfe nodded, still immersed in private thought. No self−respecting Bellon warrior Chapter 17

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would ever allow his mate to simply walk out of his life, regardless of the circumstances. Cat had been poised to desert him before he ever issued his ultimatum−−hadn't she? How could he be sure? If Cat truly did not wish to remain his mate, he wouldn't drag her back in magnecuffs, but, by the gods, she'd have to say the words while she looked him in the eyes. She must be the one to break the bonding goblet with which they'd sealed their vows. He would not shatter the goblet nor Bellon custom. Bellons mated for life, the long or short of it. Cat must be the one to go against their traditions. First, though, a gut feeling insisted Cat needed him now. And the gods watch over anyone who tried to stop him from going to her. He'd reach Cat's side no matter what Garesh and the Underworld−−or the Corps−−threw at him. Until she formally ended their union, she was his responsibility, and he'd protect her no matter the cost. Just as she would him if circumstances−− "Course, Captain?" "What?" Wulfe met Riordan's questioning look, issued the order he'd been contemplating for some time now. "Lieutenant Commander, lay in a course for Nutralis, all possible speed." Chapter 17

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"Aye, aye, Sir!" Riordan's grin lit up her fair Earther−girl−next−door face before she swivelled back to her controls. "Nutralis, best course laid in, all possible speed, Sir!" "Captain?" "Yes, Seleen." "Captain Wheeler is on channel. He wishes to know if you require him to follow up on his offer to investigate." "Tell the captain we appreciate his overture, but he must follow his own orders from Command." "Aye, Captain." Wulfe heard the Grimalkan relay his message in a quiet tone. At the end, Seleen hissed and shot back a quick verbal directive over the open communication channel. "What was that, Seleen?" "Sorry, Captain. The Orion communication officer forgot to filter out some high−pitched clutter. He must be new." "You are uninjured?" Bellons claimed extraordinarily keen hearing, but even they lost out to the hearing abilities of the feline race. Grimalkans went twitchy when exposed to high frequencies. Chapter 17

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"Aye, Captain. Their communication officer will know better before he contacts me another time, I assure you." "Once he translates the Grimalkan curse you put on him?" "Aye, Sir," Seleen answered placidly. She ran a bright pink tongue over a wicked−appearing incisor, looking very pleased with herself. She blinked her luminous eyes once, very slowly, passed her hand−like front paw over her muzzle whiskers. Seleen's self−satisfied expression nudged Wulfe's subconscious. He fought to retrieve the veiled memory. The recollection refused to surface, but he balked at giving up. Did they teach nursery rhymes on Grimale? Bah! Albright and her game−like riddles. Still, Seleen's feline form made him think of Albright's taunting question. THE COUNCIL chairman sat at the head of the private dining table with Cat to his left, Dove to his right, and M'Lissa on the far side of Dove. The elderly statesman possessed strong and practical diplomatic views complemented by a sharp−witted sense of humor. Throughout the meal, he'd allowed no somber discussion. Instead, he regaled them with tales of his youth, each story boisterously rowdy, but tastefully told. Chapter 17

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Cat watched her mother in private amusement. Dove tried combination after combination of condiments on her meal. Hot, spicy, sweet, bitter, sour. A couple of the mixtures made Cat's mouth pucker in horrified response. Her own pregnancy craving had been specifically for blood oranges, relatively mundane compared to Dove's trial concoctions. Before dessert could be served, an aide entered the dining room, leaned down to whisper a message in the chairman's ear. "Marvelous," the chairman said with enthusiasm. The aide whispered more, prompting the chairman to ask, "Is she certain?" The aide nodded and left. The chairman's kind face stayed a little too expressionless. Cat felt the chairman's emotions skip from the elation and relief that had filtered through with the first half of the aide's message to his present concern and reticence. "Mister Chairman? Is something wrong?" "I am not positive, Lady Cat. After going through twenty−seven different relay connections, my communication director has finally found the original source of the transmission regarding your children." "Where?" Cat shot to her feet, heart pounding. Maybe now they could get to the truth of the matter. Oh, gods, would she soon be able to hold her children again? Chapter 17

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The chairman met her probing gaze. Confusion radiated from him. "A Space Corps vessel called the Falchion." "What?" The floor undulated beneath her feet−−or had her knees simply gone too weak to support her? Either way, she ended up back in the chair, her heart stuttering. Dove, who'd somehow made her way to the other side of the table, clasped Cat's shoulder. "It is not what you are thinking, Daughter." "Then, by the gods, what?" "I don't know, but I assure you we will discover the truth. I sense the betrayal you are feeling and must warn you. Do not allow the emotions to overshadow what your heart knows." Her heart knew many things. She cherished Wulfe, adored the children, loved her far−reaching family, treasured her home and comrades. She also now realized one of those comrades aboard the Falchion must have betrayed her−−something unthinkable until this very moment. Corps did not betray Corps. Cat couldn't bring herself to believe the bitraer to be Wulfe. Simply could not. Only the name 'Wheeler' flashed through her mind. But he was Corps, too! She excused herself and retreated to her chambers to contemplate the impossible. Chapter 17

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Isolated in her private rooms, Cat worked into the night double−checking the security measures she'd helped to put into place. She evaluated personnel files and reviewed the logs of visitors to Nutralis in the last month. Two records of visiting ships bothered her, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly what aspect of the stopovers disturbed her; they seemed normal enough on the surface. She did anything and everything to keep her mind occupied. While she worked to verify all those records, she ran a tracing program in the background to confirm the communication relays the chairman's director had tracked. The woman's efforts checked out. Whether prodded by impulse or intuition−−she couldn't be sure, maybe compulsion−−Cat dug for more details, some clue as to who drafted the original message. She found only the Falchion as the source of the computer−generated text. And a date and time that meant the first leg of the missive's course began while the Falchion orbited Uhlein. If she had access to the Falchion's computer core, she might−−with the Creator's blessing−−be able to decipher the author's name. The transmission began bare minutes before Fallon and the children disappeared from the station's security logs. Before. Meaning, their vanishing act hadn't been a spur of the Chapter 17

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moment act or an accident. She'd kill the person responsible! One torturous minute at a time, until he begged for release. In the back of her mind, she could already hear Wheeler's voice doing the begging. Startled, Cat pushed back from the work table in the chambers provided by the council. Worry about her family, the long duty hours on the Falchion, combined with the fact that Nutralia's day and night differed seven hours from the ship's, finally caught up with her, made her mind muddled and fuzzy, even hallucination−prone. Chilled, she hugged the soft fabric gown woven of fibers indigenous to Nutralis around her body. Made with the heat of their dry world in mind, the pale gauzy material skimmed over her body like starglow and moonwind. When the coolness of night arrived, the native Nutralian added additional layers of cloth. A small flashing panel on the computer alerted her to messages from the communication center. "Yes?" 'In accordance with your instructions, Commander, I wish to notify you that a Space Corps vessel is coming into range and asking to establish orbit.' Cat's heart lifted in anticipation and even a rush of relief. Had Wulfe come after her? "Which one?" Chapter 17

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'The Orion under the command of Captain Wheeler. He wants to come planetside.' Expectation plummeted into bitter disappointment. Wariness edged its way in, too. "Clear the Orion for orbit. Have her captain stay in the transport center until I arrive." 'As you wish, Commander.' Cat drew the gauzy robe over her head and grabbed her Space Corps uniform from the sanitizing chamber. After putting on the clean clothes, she pulled her hair straight back, jammed the double−tined copper pin through the tight, no−nonsense knot she'd made. On her way through the complex, Cat came across a three−man crew of techs installing new sensors in one of the halls. The team leader was giving the other two a verbal lashing for dropping a piece of equipment. "It's not the end of the universe," Cat commented. "No, but it's the end of our installation schedule until we get a robotech here to retrieve it." She gauged the size of the floor's opening. "Or someone small enough to squeeze through." "I couldn't ask−−" "You didn't." Cat levered herself through the hole and into the crawlspace. She groped Chapter 17

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around for a few seconds, finally admitting to herself that she couldn't put off greeting Wheeler any longer. "Shine a light down here, will you?" Someone obliged her, but not before she ran into some dirty, ancient connections. Cat brushed the nonfunctioning conduit aside, spied the missing pack. She handed the equipment up to a tech, let another one pull her up. "Thank you, Commander." "Any time," Cat waved aside his thanks and reluctantly pushed on to the transport chamber. Wheeler waited for her, his oily smile in place while he tried to radiate charm. His efforts might work on someone else, but not her. The Earther's surface emotions gyrated around Cat. Frantic adherence to regulations. Frenzied rebellion to change. A confounded perception of reality, with him at the center. "Greetings, Commander Culver." "Captain Wheeler." "Have you managed to find your poor children, yet?" The little hairs on the back of Cat's neck tried to stand on end. Wheeler's concern came across as hollow. "No." Chapter 17

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"Well, never fear, once we've knocked these godless Mallochons back down where they belong, we will, Commander." "I intend to find them long before that. Why are you here?" "I follow orders from Corps Command, just like every other officer. Guess they wanted some extra firepower in this sector." "And Command sent you?" "To this sector, yes. Figured as long as I was this close, I'd stop and see if you needed anything." Not from him, she didn't. One of the transport attendants signaled to her with a hand motion. "Another Space Corps vessel coming into range, Commander." Cat sighed. Space Corps personnel would be tripping over one another if this kept up. "Which one, now?" "The starcruiser Falchion. Captain Kincade is establishing a synchronous orbit over Nutralia and then will transport down." Cat's mouth went Sacred Sands dry. She didn't know if she'd leap into Wulfe's arms in welcome, or squeeze her hands around his neck in a stranglehold. If Wulfe had sent the Chapter 17

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message about Garrett and Morgan, would he dare show up here? Forget that. Wulfe's concern for the little ones manifested nothing but genuine worry. Which brought to mind the next questions: why had Wulfe made his way to Nutralis? Could he possibly have come for her, after everything they'd said to one another? Had Command ordered him to Nutralis, or had he gone renegade? Like she didn't have enough on her mind. Bloody wonderful. "Fine. The more the merrier." Wheeler reached out, swiped a couple of curiously tacky fingers against the side of her face. "Got it." Cat jerked back from him, suppressed a shudder. "What?" "Dirt. Can't have you looking like a tunnel rat when you greet your husband, can we?" She rubbed her cheek self−consciously. "Wouldn't be the first time he's seen me less than pristine." She motioned Wheeler off to the side. "You still using Endorphidrine?" Wheeler didn't even blink. "No. Gave up that poison." His answer didn't surprise her. She'd expected denial or a claim of newfound chemical purity. Cat read his surface emotions, and the honesty, overlaid with a veneer of guilt, caught her unprepared. Maybe he had changed. A lingering hint of deceit churned sluggishly beneath his bid for openness, though, enough to make her wonder and doubt. Chapter 17

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"Commander?" "Yes?" Cat, puzzled over the jumbled perceptions she'd received from Wheeler, only half−listened to the security monitor. The member of the Council's security team moved closer. "When did you cancel the perimeter checks for the night?" "I didn't." A new worry wriggled its way into her awareness. She'd assigned teams to do random security sweeps of the council's compound to look for unauthorized devices or trespassers. "Then we have a problem. Our control center reports that Canto and Sung would have been due to check in thirty minutes ago. No one has heard from them." Cat spun to face the man. "Why the bloody hell didn't they notify me twenty−nine minutes sooner?" Blast and double blast! "Alert security teams and have them begin a systematic search of the grounds immediately." One bloody thing after another! Cat hung her head, rested her forehead in a palm. She closed her eyes for a blessed moment of easement. Another sleepless cycle. She'd be star−hopping space happy before this nightmare ended. Maybe she'd already taken the plunge−−that would explain the wildness of the thoughts and feelings currently playing Chapter 17

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Hide and Hunt in her mind and heart. She wanted this all to end. Now. Immediately. She longed to hold her children. She wanted her husband and her life back, with no worries about the Mallochons or war or loss. No arguments, nothing bad happening. Just twenty−five hours of peace is all she asked. Might as well ask the Sacred Winds not to blow.

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Chapter 18 WULFE TOLD himself he at least had a clear conscience in regard to Space Corps Command. An hour or so after he'd issued the order for Riordan to set course for Nutralis, Flemming contacted him with orders for a new destination: the Nutralis System. For once, Sister Fate rode with him rather than against him. Sister Fate managed to spit in his face on other matters, particularly in regard to finding Garrett and Morgan. The message his mother received from Cass about the children had, in reality, been issued from his own ship, the Falchion. When Raptor contacted him with that information, Wulfe told only one other officer. Seleen. His communication officer had been furious when she discovered her domain had been compromised. The auxiliary comm panel held her claw marks to prove it, but Seleen managed to stifle any outcry, thereby keeping the fact a secret. The only other person aboard who knew the truth was the message's author. Seleen worked as a demon possessed to find the responsible party. If she managed to ferret out the author, Wulfe vowed Seleen would find herself promoted as far as Corps Command allowed. Wulfe moved his head from side to side, stretching his neck muscles in an effort to Chapter 18

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dispel the mounting tension in his shoulders and back. The silence in his office stressed the isolation he felt while the muted computer scrolled through the day's logs. He reviewed the entries with half−hearted interest. On top of the news that a traitor walked the decks of his ship, part of his mind still played Hide and Hunt with snippets of other recent thoughts and conversations. Albright's concern over Cat−−could his mate truly slip into madness simply because the bonding link between them didn't function? Bah! An Earther's proclivity for groundless worry and the love of doom and gloom. The doctor had to be wrong. Cat was one of the most capable females−−people−−he had ever known. Images flashed through his mind−−chilling pictures of Cat, her body burned, torn, battered, broken. The brutal vision stunned him. Cruel imagination or vicious memory trying to surface? Who would know? Albright, naturally. Thinking of the doctor reminded him of Albright's gibe about rhymes, which touched off other thoughts. The feline Seleen and Grimalkan nursery rhymes. Useless verses about animals. Wulfe went rigid in his chair, his spine laser−straight with sudden enlightenment. Or returning memory? Some Bellons taught a nursery rhyme to their children about a tiny rodent using a flamemelon thorn as a way to triumph over a monster of a hunting cat. Chapter 18

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Something about the rodent removing the thorn. He recalled how he'd detested the nargging thing. As if a timid rodent could ever conquer a warrior−like hunting cat. "How did that piece of worthlessness go again?" He stumbled over the archaic phrasing of the Bellonese, the words embarrassingly clumsy. The ancient verses went back to the early days of Bellona, the First Ones. After a couple of false starts, Wulfe felt satisfied he'd managed to remember the correct phrasing. Typical of late; he could recall something so useless, but not his life for the past few months. He recited the complete rhyme, feeling foolishly triumphant. How do you wish to view that file? Wulfe squinted at the computer screen, thinking he'd lost his mind and imagined the question. What file? With a quick glance around to be certain no one else had entered his office and a fatalistic shrug, he directed his query to the computer, "How many choices do I have?" This isolated file may be retrieved by log entry date, log author, or by key word search. What had he stumbled upon? "Give me a random sampling of key word options." Catherine Culver. Cat Kincade. Free Agent. Covert Ops. Morgan Kincade. Garrett Kincade. Danelle Morgan. Confidential medical records. Transfer criteria. Chapter 18

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"Stop!" Sweet Creator! Only one person could be responsible for such an in−depth undertaking. He'd discovered Cat's treasure trove of secrets and information. Elation. Anticipation. Herein might be his best chance to relearn everything he'd forgotten. This must be to what Albright had made reference. Now to discover what the doctor felt to be so important. Premonitory hesitation. Could he face everything he'd find? "Who has access to this file?" The entire file is available to Captain Wulfe Kincade with verified voice print and passwords and Commander Catherine Culver with verified voice print. Medical records are available to Doctors Albright and Moira with verified voice prints. Somehow, he'd stumbled upon the correct passwords, so he wouldn't need Albright's help, bless the Creator. For some reason, Cat had determined he could access the files only if he knew the passwords. Intriguing. And irritating−−just like her to use verses he loathed. A tone from Wulfe's tag claimed his attention, and he responded to the intraship hail. "Kincade. Go ahead." 'Out of hyperspace and entering the Nutralis System,' Riordan informed him. 'We will establish orbit in approximately twelve minutes.' "Very well. Have Seleen initiate communication with Nutralis." Chapter 18

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'Aye, Sir. Um, it is night in Nutralia, but should I have Seleen contact Commander Culver anyway?' "No need. If I know the commander, she'll be aware of our arrival before we ever make orbit." Wulfe wished he could remember how well he did know Cat. He seemed to be missing some very important pieces. "Tell Chief Ellery I'll want him in our transport room by the time the Falchion is in place over the city." Wulfe's mouth went dry as he terminated the link. Time to face his mate. He sure as narg would have liked the chance to delve into the isolated data he'd found, but uncovering the file's mysteries would have to wait. WULFE STEPPED out of the main transport chamber at the heart of the council's compound. A half dozen guards surrounded him before he took a third step. Well, he'd been right about Cat's vigilance. "What's this about? Stand aside, all of you. I am Wulfe Kincade, captain of the Space Corps Starcruiser Falchion." "We know who you are, Captain. My team and I are following orders. If you would be kind enough to hand over any weapons." Wulfe didn't know which would erupt first: a roar of outrage or a howl of laughter. The Chapter 18

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laughter triumphed, bursting out of him, mainly because of the absurdity; his anger would scare these meek people out of their skins. Cat slipped between two of the lanky escorts to face him, her left eyebrow arched. Wulfe noted the escorts' relief at her presence. "I'm glad you find this so bloody amusing, Wulfe." Her voice matched her unamused facial expression. She'd pulled her hair tightly back from her face. The severity of style accentuated Cat's aristocratic cheekbones, the exotic eyes, and drove home the point that she looked exhausted. "Has someone gotten to the chairman?" "No, and no one will. Nutralia's security may have been breached, though. We're missing a team of guards." The 'escort' who'd asked for Wulfe's weapons cleared his throat and repeated the request. Wulfe gave the guard an unhurried look. "Now, I know you're not talking to me, because you don't look that slow−witted." Cat motioned the guard away. "Don't worry about the captain's sidearm. I'll escort him myself. You and your team should join the perimeter search in whatever capacity needed." Wulfe eyeballed the rest of the men surrounding him until they moved aside so he could reach Cat along an unobstructed path. She motioned again, and the guards melted away to Chapter 18

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do her bidding. He studied Cat, trying to ascertain her frame of mind. Her voice contained a tremor no one else seemed to notice when she'd issued the orders. "They're only trying to do their jobs, Wulfe." Wulfe nodded, then turned his attention to another familiar face. Wheeler. "Your first officer tells me the Orion arrived only a few minutes ahead of us." "Laying over just long enough to see if we can lend assistance, then we're off to patrol through the Patten system. I didn't expect to see you, though, Captain Kincade. Command mentioned only Catherine being here." "A last minute course change. You'll be leaving soon, then?" "Now, as a matter of fact," Wheeler announced with a flourish, and retreated to the transport chamber. Wulfe and Cat watched him disappear in the customary sparkle. A barely perceptible change came over Cat, as though she'd relaxed a mere iota. She turned toward him. "You took your sweet time getting here. Been on R and R, have you?" "What made you think I'd show up?" Cat flashed him an inscrutable look and inclined her head toward a hall beyond the Chapter 18

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doorway. Wulfe hesitated only a second. Her brow arched again, just enough to nudge his irritation up a notch. What else was new? He still couldn't decide what he wanted to do; wrap his arms around this incredibly beautiful, sensual female and make love to her until she begged him to stop or put this annoying, frustrating woman up against the bulkhead and−−narg!−−kiss some sense into her. Wulfe looked down at Cat as he walked beside her. The top of her head barely came level to his sternum. How had he lost his heart to such a tiny little thing? Until meeting Cat, he'd always envisioned his future mate as tall, muscular, dark−haired, birthing son, after robust son, for him. But he did have one son−−and a daughter−−somewhere. He intended to find them both soon, would not rest until he did. Then the offender would pay the price for such an affront to the House of Kincade. And the House of Burnelle. "You didn't answer me. Why did you expect me?" Wulfe couldn't help but wonder if she'd hoped for his arrival or simply anticipated and dreaded his presence. "Once I saw the planetary defenses here on Nutralis−−" "What defenses? They're nonexistent!" "All right, the lack of, which happens to be my point, if you'd give me the chance to Chapter 18

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bloody finish. Anyway, I told Roy Flemming we needed your help−−your crew's help−−to protect the chairman. The guardsmen here have been mostly for show. Honor guards, escorts and such." "Ah. That's all." He shouldn't have counted on anything further after his ultimatum. She'd predicted he wouldn't like the results, and narg it, she'd been right. "You expected more?" "Apparently not." "Wulfe, how would you like to captain the only Space Corps vessel with a Seeker? I happen to have one available." "For me?" He eyed her, wondering if there was a catch, because she'd certainly taken him by surprise. "I am touched." "You're lucky I don't touch you−−hard−−upside your head." Well, distance hadn't dimmed her spirit. "I suppose−−sometimes anger prompts one to say or do things better left unsaid or undone, as our argument aboard ship proved, but−−narg it, I wouldn't keep the children from you." "That's big of you." The feeling of deja vu made goose bumps crawl over his skin, creating unpleasant Chapter 18

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sensations. "Don't go all to pieces on me. I simply couldn't do that to the children." "Ah. That makes perfect sense." "Must we do this now?" She'd seen through him. Using the children as his excuse protected his pride if she refused to remain his mate. "No, we don't have to do it at all." Cat stopped, turned to face him. "About the Seeker. M'Lissa came all the way from Erosia to volunteer her services. If you don't want her aboard the Falchion, I'm sure I can find another captain I can trust almost as much as you with the information." Wulfe's heart jumped a centimeter or two in his chest, but he tried to ignore the flash of hope warming him. "After all, the fleet's flagship should be the one to have the best advantage. You want her or not?" The hope sputtered. The flagship should have the advantage. Cat began walking again and Wulfe fell into step beside her, unable to contain the question he knew he'd regret. "You trust me?" "Most of the time." Wulfe shrugged. "Better than none of the time." Chapter 18

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"Hmm. Come with me. I need to show you something." "Fine." Wulfe adjusted his stride so he wouldn't outdistance her. About now, she'd probably be prickly about something even as trivial as outpacing her. "How's the security shaping up, over all?" "Fair, I'd say. A threat against the chairman is the last thing anyone here expected. They could use some of your security people as mentors, if you've a mind to share them." "My security people?" "You did have me transferred off the Falchion, did you not?" Cat met his stare with one of her own. "Even so, I'd personally like Space Corps personnel escorting my mother and watching the chairman." "Your mother's here?" "She brought the Seeker." Cat passed her wrist over the sensor next to a door. A scanner read the implant in her arm and the lock mechanism released the door to swing open. Wulfe followed her into the comfortable living quarters. The rooms contained only one aspect of Cat's personality−−her unique scent. She keyed in a command to the computer. The screen lit up with one short sentence that he read in a glance. The Kincade children are unharmed Chapter 18

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Exultant relief fought its way to the surface, but cautionary disbelief held it at bay. "Ma'ten! Is this true?" "You tell me." Cat whirled, paced from one end of the room to the other, a frown marring the lines of her face. She stopped directly in front of him, her breath unsteady. "Why would someone go to the trouble of taking our children and then bother to reassure us?" "Doesn't make sense to me." Wulfe's muscles tightened with pent−up frustration, wishing he had something more helpful to say to her. "Almost sounds like guilt or remorse." "No." Bitterness welled up in him. "Whoever has done this doesn't have enough honor to feel such emotions." "Fear, then? Second thoughts?" "Both, more than likely." Now, if only that fear didn't drive the person to dispose of the children and Fallon to cover his tracks. "Cat, you didn't think I had anything to do with that message?" "No. I have faith in you." She favored him with a grim little lift of her lips that didn't quite deserve to be called a smile. "Too bad you had so little faith in me that you believed Chapter 18

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I'd leave the Falchion without a thought for the children. Or you." She touched his chin with a forefinger, pushed up against his slack jaw. "You can shut your mouth now, love, unless you've a brilliant idea." He did shut it, just his lips, around her finger. Wulfe let her withdraw the fingertip, felt his temperature go up a degree when she stroked his bottom lip and their gazes met. He cleared his throat. "Use that wondrous mind of yours, will you? All you had to do was trace the transmission back to its source." "You think I didn't?" Cat snatched her finger away. "Computer, display related search results." Wulfe scanned the information line by line, racing to the end. The Falchion. "What the narg is going on?" "Like a kick to the midsection, isn't it?" "More than you know. At the risk of great physical damage to my body, are you certain about this information?" "The communication specialist backtraced the transmission first. I didn't want to believe her findings−−I wanted it to be wrong, too−−so I verified her work. She's right." Corps did not betray Corps! The tenet ran deep, an unspoken article of faith that bound Chapter 18

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its members together. Someone had subverted that trust. Wulfe let loose a string of Bellon curses. Cat's face reflected a new wariness, so he put his arm around her reassuringly. "I do not vilify you, but the one who has taken Garrett and Morgan, and the treasonous of'al helping him. When we find who's responsible, I will bring the children to you, my Lady, and to no other." She relaxed against him, the simple action warming him. "Your cheek should always rest against my heart, Cat, as it does this very moment." Cat's breath caught at the huskiness in Wulfe's voice, the tone he used when he said her name, the tone that made her feel cherished, the tone she hadn't heard for far too long. How could she tell him she wanted her cheek to rest in that precise spot every night, every day? Maybe Albright had been wrong. Maybe she could tell Wulfe everything and not cause him harm. Maybe? She'd risk his well−being on a maybe? Not bloody likely, no matter how badly the waiting made her hurt inside. She reached out mentally, desperation making her search for the bonding link. Nothing. The lack of connection shook her. For a brief instant, her mind tumbled closer to madness, a match to her careening emotions. She forced herself to move away from Wulfe. The comment about her cheek seemed as genuine as his shock over the message about the children, but first things first. "Can you Chapter 18

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think of anyone on the Falchion who'd have a part in Morgan and Garrett's disappearance?" "No. It is difficult to accept the fact that any Bellon would have so little honor. You must feel the same." "Yes, certainly. Until a few days ago, though, Bellon blood was in a minority on the Falchion." "That's true, but still! Corps does not turn against Corps! No matter the background!" Cat sensed he didn't believe that entirely. "A wonderful sentiment, Wulfe, but even you don't believe that entirely. Not anymore. Someone from the Corps has betrayed us." "Who would you accuse? A Syllogian? Carnobian?" "I don't know!" "Grimalkan? Earther? Somehow, I can't see Seleen or Nora Albright doing this!" "Nor can I!" But one name leapt into her mind yet again. Wheeler! The Earther had succumbed to using drugs, and hiding the habit from anyone who could help him. Under the influence, who knew what he may have become capable of? "Cat, this message could be a ruse to send us chasing ourselves, doubting our comrades, instead of finding the ones truly responsible. A method of wasting our time." "Maybe. Are you willing to take the gamble?" If a ruse, were the children unharmed? Chapter 18

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Her mouth went dry. She had to believe they were safe or go mad with worry. "If I were to point a finger at anyone, Wheeler would be the target." "Why would Erich do such a thing?" "Why would he use Endorphidrine?" "He wouldn't!" "Oh, but he did! Check his medical files." "This is news to me." "I know. I didn't discover the fact until after he'd been assigned to the Orion. Why bother you with something over which you no longer had control? I allowed Corps Command to handle the situation. You would have done the same." "You're probably right." Wulfe let out a sigh. "We must consider something else. Morgan and Garrett may have been with Cass when her ship...the messages about the children could be a sick form of emotional torment, something to keep our hope alive where there is none." Cat leaned into Wulfe's mighty frame, seeking contact, warmth, comfort. His arm held her, and for that second, she'd swear it was the only thing that kept her heart beating. "That thought has been with me every moment of every hour. Whatever happened to Cass and Chapter 18

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Hawke, I prefer to think our children were not with them. I must believe Garrett and Morgan are well, as this coded transmission claims, or I can't keep myself from the brink of madness." Sensing his hesitation, Cat stepped out of the circle of his arm. "What news have you received?" Wulfe focused on the far wall over the top of her head, then brought his gaze back to her. "The message Cass supposedly sent to my parents originated on the Falchion as well." "Frak." Her blood turned to ice right in her veins. Cat pressed her lips together. Her vocabulary had grown decidedly more vulgar over the past week or so. Not without reason. "If I accepted even the possibility that Garrett and Morgan perished with Cass, I think I'd..." She found Wulfe's eyes, the warm brown dulled by a painful bleakness. "The only way I've stayed sane so far is to tend to business." "Business it is, then." Bless the Creator. "What about security assistance here for the chairman and my mother?" "Right. I'll start sending crew members down in shifts and have the flight squads perform surveys of the system. Do you have any preference for your mother's escorts?" Chapter 18

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Cat knew Mykal Lyon needed to stay with the flight crews. Any member of his security team would do a good job but the Dove deserved the best. "I'd be happier with Bellons around her." "Done. I'll take care of it." He glanced behind her, motioned to the computer screen with his bearded chin. "Looks like there's another message." "I'll take it while you contact the Falchion. If you have time, stick around. I'll introduce you to M'Lissa when I'm done here." Cat thumbed the response pad, stopping the blinking light. "Culver. Go." 'Commander, I've received a second message about your children.' "Relay at once!" Cat's knees weakened from surprise and tension and fear. Good news or more useless taunting? Wulfe cut off his conversation with Seleen to listen. 'I have a problem. The first half of the message is clearly addressed to your attention and lists the contents as being related to the children. The body of the transmission is encrypted with a code I haven't been able to break.' Damn and double damn. "What about the source?" 'Looks to be several relays again, only this time the coding is very sophisticated. Unraveling this could take me days.' Chapter 18

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"Get busy! I want it done now!" "Send a complete copy of the transmission to my communication officer on the Falchion," Wulfe ordered in his deep, authoritative voice to the Nutralian and cut the link. "Won't hurt to have two working on deciphering the information. Seleen's mind probably works a bit more deviously than a Nutralian's." "No doubt." Bless the Creator for Wulfe's presence. He gave her strength without realizing he did so−−and she couldn't tell him. A warrior expected his mate always to be strong, stoic, capable. A warrior must be strong−−a warrior must be strong. The mantra all Bellon children were taught as they learned to reason. Maybe, if she could find just the right words, she could convey to Wulfe some of what she felt, how much she loved...a knock at the door cut off the idea. "That should be Mother and M'Lissa." Wulfe caught her hand in his. "Does your mother know−−?" She sensed the worry, guessed at the cause for his concern. "I realize we agreed not to say anything about Hawke and Cass, but face to face...Mother felt something wrong, and I couldn't hide it or lie to her." "I would never expect you to lie to your mother. I only asked so I wouldn't say the wrong thing. How did the Dove take the news?" Chapter 18

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"She remains hopeful. Don't discourage her." The door opened, allowing the two women to enter. "Lady Burnelle, I greet you." "And I greet you, Wulfe." Dove handled the quick introduction of M'Lissa. Cat caught the look of surprise on M'Lissa's face. Despite the little Erosian's assertion of not having been sheltered, Cat doubted M'Lissa had expected anyone as tall or broad−shouldered as Wulfe. He affected most people that way, even some other Bellons. Dove clasped Wulfe's forearm. "Now, the formalities are concluded. How are you?" "As you can imagine, I am not pleased by all that has transpired." A soft melodic chime sounded in the room, floated in from the hall through the open doorway. More trouble. Cat's body automatically prepared for action, flooded her system with adrenaline. She checked to make certain the sidearm clung to her hip, the dagger rested in her thigh sheath. Next to her, Wulfe's body tensed and he reflexively mirrored her actions. "What is that?" Cat stopped, already halfway to the door. "More security problems." "Security!" Wulfe followed the outburst with a one−word expletive that left no doubt how he felt. "Sounds like they're calling the compound in for evening meal, not alerting Chapter 18

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everyone to danger! What is wrong with these people?" "Nothing! This is a world of peace. How can they know what our alarms and call to arms sound like?" Cat couldn't keep herself from sparing her mother a worried look. This new danger might easily encompass the Dove. Wulfe must have seen her hesitation and reacted immediately. "You know the layout of the compound, so go. I'll stay here to protect your mother from harm." "I am not helpless−−" "Mother, for once, let someone take care of you!" Cat sensed the increased worry coming off Wulfe in waves, the concerned affection. She nodded, gave him a quick smile in response. "I must go." "Watch your back, ma'ten. That's an order." "Aye, my Lord. No problem." Cat dashed through the doorway and into the hall, wishing she felt as confident as she tried to sound. She grasped at the prospect of duty as a means to cling to her sanity. She must remain sane to bring everyone home safely. Cat met the security force outside the main building. They'd already divided into teams. She joined the smallest group to even out the numbers. One by one, the men and women took their positions and started the search for intruders. Alert to every unexpected sound, Chapter 18

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every new scent, Cat made her cautious way from one pool of light to another, melting into the darkness when light failed to penetrate, but her heart stayed behind. WULFE WATCHED Cat leave, a cargo bay full of emotions warping through him. Concern, irritation. Love, resentment. He squared his shoulders and turned his attention to the women still in the room. "Lady Burnelle, my ship's defenses are better suited to protect you and M'Lissa." Are they? he wondered, thinking of the messages about the children issued from the Falchion. "I suggest you board her until such time as Nutralis is safe for you." "I appreciate your concern, Wulfe, but I must spend time with the chairman. That is the main reason I'm here." "Simple enough. The chairman is welcome to join you aboard. While the two of you plan, M'Lissa can familiarize herself with the ship. The Falchion won't be going anywhere at least until we finish decrypting the latest message about Garrett and Morgan." Dove gave a wordless gasp. "You've had further word?" "A short time ago. One of the chairman's people is working on decoding the message and so is my communication officer." Chapter 18

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"How long will that take?" Wulfe paced three steps one way, then four steps in another direction, too keyed up to stand still. "Too long, by far, but I know Seleen won't rest until she's completed the task." "I hope that's soon. Aside from the danger to the children, something that has us all frightened, I don't know how much more Cat can take. I'm truly concerned she may be right on the edge." He scrutinized Dove's open, guileless face. Her high cheekbones and the slant of her eyes reminded him so much of Cat's. "You think she's that close?" "You can't tell? You know her better than anyone−−gods, I forgot. You don't know her entirely right now, do you?" "Do−−did−−I know Cat better than even you do?" Dove's wry expression answered before she said a word. "Better than I, Wulfe. The two of you," she shook her head, "your souls were destined for one another. I have never seen that degree of understanding between two people who are not pure Erosian. You are exceptional together. Surely, you can sense that?" "Aye, I feel−−I know−−we were once extraordinary. My chief medical officer mentioned something disturbing to me about Cat's mental state, too. Is it true that Erosians Chapter 18

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can go mad if their bonding link is severed?" Dove's mouth tightened and she nodded. "Or die." Worry clutched at his heart. "Every time?" "Not always," M'Lissa said. "We have ways of helping those afflicted." "Even someone who isn't pure Erosian? How can I protect her? What must I do to keep her safe?" M'Lissa shook her head. "Not being Erosian limits−−" Dove placed a hand on M'Lissa's shoulder as though in warning. "Wulfe, mixed blood can make the situation more difficult. Sometimes even impossible, especially when that person is...exceedingly stubborn or passionate, or has a reason to put another's life ahead of her own." Wulfe met Dove's tormented gaze. "Those words describe my mate." "And my daughter." "What do you feel to be the answer?" "We take care of her the best we know how." A deafening blast vaporized any intention to respond. The wall of sound battered their bodies, lifted them from the floor and threw them down again. Chapter 18

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Wulfe climbed to his feet. By the gods! Cat! "Pulse cannons? Plasma bombs?" He thought he asked the questions, but couldn't hear his words or a response from anyone. Wulfe felt something touch his arm and pivoted to find Dove using his wrist for leverage while she tried to stand. She pressed one hand to her abdomen. He helped her up, steadied her. M'Lissa stood and circled an arm around Dove's waist. Dove's mouth moved, but he couldn't make out what she said. "What?" He couldn't even hear his own words yet, only an irritating, dim roaring sound over which he tried to speak. "I must find Cat!" Dove pointed to the door and nodded. The roaring sound receded enough for him to decipher part of what Dove tried to say. "Go...be fine. Find...bring..." Wulfe pivoted toward the exit, turned back for one quick look at Dove. "When Cat finds out I left you alone, she'll take my head!" "...won't matter...she's..." Wulfe sprinted through the doorway.

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Chapter 19 WULFE CHARGED down the hall, whipped around the first corner to the right and caromed off a Nutralian struggling to his feet. A few meters further and he vaulted over two unconscious females and skidded around the next left turn. Hoping against hope that Cat had enough life in her to try taking his head for leaving Dove unguarded, he hurtled through the closest exit at a dead run. Soft, silent night air enveloped him. Nothing stirred, not even nocturnal insects. Torn between bellowing Cat's name and remaining warrior−silent, Wulfe hesitated for one thunderous heartbeat. His eyes adjusted to the darkness so he could scan the surroundings. Bodies scattered everywhere. He froze in place, wanting to sense Cat's sweet mindtouch more than he wanted to take his next breath. Nothing. Wulfe slapped a hand to his comm tag. "Seleen, get some med teams down here on the double. Make sure they're accompanied by armed security personnel. Pinpoint Commander Culver's position through her tag." 'Aye, Captain. We picked up the sonic blast.' "Sonic grenades? That explains the lack of damage to the surrounding area. Get on the Chapter 19

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rescue efforts." 'Teams have already assembled. Beginning transport to your location.' Only two teams had time to appear around him before the efficient Seleen got back to him with Cat's whereabouts. "Her condition?" 'Unconscious due to undetermined trauma. That's all the information I'm able to gather.' Seleen gave a frustrated hiss. "Stay alert. I'll get to her." Wulfe raced between pools of light to the coordinates provided by Seleen. Extra flood lights came on to push back encroaching darkness. The farther he went, the more fallen bodies he had to step around and over. The mounting body count confirmed his dread. By the time Wulfe hunkered down next to Cat, he realized she lay at the epicenter of the injured Nutralians. Albright sparkled into existence two meters away before Wulfe touched his comm tag again. She knelt across from him, her bioscanner taking Cat's vital signs. "Don't move her until I get some readings." The sluggish line of blood oozing from Cat's right ear and across her pale cheek Chapter 19

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convinced him not to move her when he only wanted to feel her in his arms. Fear burned through his veins, lodged in his midsection with menacing force. By the gods, no! Not now! Not when he stood on the verge of fully realizing the depth of his feelings. "Her condition?" "Considering she seems to have been the target..." Albright's voice trailed off. She handed over two small pieces of debris to Wulfe. "What's this? I found it under her." He spared a glance for the scrap, shrugged a shoulder. "Part of a sensor, I'd guess." "Catherine's stable enough to move now. I'm transporting her up to the Falchion." "Will she be all right?" "You know we'll do everything we can." "Answer me, narg it! She's been through so much." "Kneeling here in the dirt talking about it isn't improving her chances." "You're right. Go. Take those pieces with you. Have Mykal Lyon do an analysis on them. Maybe they'll give us a clue who caused this." "Right you are." Wulfe brushed the back of his fingers to Cat's cold lips. "I want Cat fit enough to hold the children when they come home. Contact me if there's any change in her condition. Chapter 19

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Either way." "As if I wouldn't." Albright faded from sight, taking Cat's unconscious form with her. Wulfe watched, knowing his heart went with Cat, as surely as his mind stayed on Nutralis. He organized the congregating Falchion personnel. The task took little time; his crew functioned effectively without someone overseeing their every movement. The most difficult chore weighed on his shoulders−−telling the Dove her older daughter was now injured. He'd face that obligation right after he personally confirmed the chairman's well−being. Ten minutes later, Wulfe and an entourage of council aides still couldn't find the council chairman anywhere in his private rooms or the council chambers. The aides spread out through the complex. Wulfe zeroed in on Cat's rooms, thinking the chairman might have gone there to see her or the Dove. He found the annex containing guest accommodations deserted. No chairman. No Dove. No M'Lissa. And no messages. What the narg now? One disaster on top of another. Frak. Wulfe pressed the comm tag on his collar. "Seleen, is the council chairman aboard? How about Lady Burnelle?" 'Neither are aboard, Captain.' Chapter 19

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"Have you at least head from them?" 'No, Sir. Not a word.' HOW MUCH longer, but at least I had the chance to repair her eardrums. She'll be able to hear the bad news right from your mouth." Bad news? Cat resisted the impulse to demand immediate answers. The children? Sweet Creator, no! Take my life, not theirs! She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady, thinking she might hear something important. Who was Albright talking to? Had to be Wulfe−−she'd caught his earthy scent with the first conscious breath she'd taken, and could feel his concern spread over her like a warm blanket. "Why hasn't she awakened?" Aye, Wulfe. Only he could infuse so much command into a simple query. Albright made a strangled sound. "Why? Why do you think?" "How the narg should I know? You're the doctor who said Cat wasn't injured that badly!" "She's not. Catherine is completely and utterly exhausted." Albright mumbled something else Cat didn't quite catch. Chapter 19

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Wulfe made a sound of irritation. "I didn't hear you." "I said, she's still asleep because once I repaired the trauma, I slipped her a tranq." Cat raised herself to lean wearily on one elbow, grimaced at their backs. "Is that ethical?" They both whirled, Albright with the elegance of a dancer, Wulfe with the grace of a hunting panther. Albright managed to look like the clumsy one of the duo. Wulfe reached Cat in two steps. Between one heartbeat and the next, she found herself enfolded in his arms. "Cherished one," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. Cat's heart soared. Cherished one. Days−−what seemed a lifetime−−since he'd called her that. She pressed her fingers to his temple, tested for the bonding link with newfound eagerness. No connection. She buried her face against his neck to hide her letdown, soothed herself by inhaling Wulfe's scent, then looked up into his face. "How long you going to try to keep the bad news from me?" Wulfe glared over her head to Albright. When he looked back to Cat, his expression softened. "Heard that, did you?" "How could I not? You two argue as loudly as limbed vipers fighting over carrion." Chapter 19

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A tired, mirthless chuckle filtered from Wulfe's throat. "Much better, aren't you?" "I−is it a−about Garrett and Morgan?" She bit her lip, shamed at the way her voice cracked. "No." He put her down so she sat on the edge of the recovery bed. "But what I have to say will not please you." "I already figured out that much." Cat shook off some of her grogginess. "Don't tell me someone got to the chairman." "The chairman has disappeared." "Frak." Wulfe met her gaze, his dark eyes troubled. "Along with Dove and M'Lissa." Cat launched herself off the bed, adrenalin washing more of the tranq from her system. "What? How?" "We're not certain. I went back to the guest annex after I found you−−" "Found me?" Cat raked loose hair back from her face. "How did you find me?" "I went out−−" "My mother's gone because you left her? You told me you'd stay with her and protect her!" She clenched her hands into fists until the fingernails gouged into her palms. Chapter 19

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Anything to keep from backhanding Wulfe to vent her frustration and anger. "I accepted your word as oath!" "If I could change the results, I would, but nothing could make me ignore your need for my help." That threatened to take the majority of solar wind out of her sails. She couldn't let it. "How long have I been out of commission?" Cat grabbed his brawny forearm. "Has Seleen decrypted the message about Garrett and Morgan? Or have we received another one? Has anything good happened? Do we know who took Mother?" Wulfe shook his head. "No new messages, of any kind. Seleen is still working on the latest we received." "Blast it, I didn't need your help, Mother did!" Cat shoved away from Wulfe, sagged against the edge of the bed, weighed down by the burden of despair, coupled with Albright's tranquilizer. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to hold the children. No! Her arms and heart would never lose that sweet memory. "How could someone spirit away three adults without leaving some sort of trace?" "We're trying to track their movements now. Between the concussion grenades on the ground, the Falchion transporting personnel down and the Orion using her translocator a Chapter 19

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few times, we're trying to trace something unauthorized. So far, no luck, but if they were taken off planet, we'll find the pattern eventually." The distinctly male sound of someone clearing his throat came from the open doorway. Mykal Lyon's concerned gazed touched the three occupants of the room one by one. "I finished the analysis, Captain. You were right. Commander Culver definitely was the target of the blast." A low growl issued from Wulfe. "You're certain?" "Aye. Pheromone sensors guided the concussion grenades. The sensors were Mallochon." Cat nearly choked on the combination of vivid anger boiling off Wulfe and her own violent indignation. She shivered to think a Mallochon or someone under Mallochon influence had gotten so close to her. "How the bloody hell did a Mallochon get a sample of my pheromones?" Wulfe moved closer to her as though to protect her with the bulk of his presence. "I want the answer to that one myself." Lyon's scowl revealed his frustration. "I haven't been able to figure it out yet, unless it's someone on the Falchion, which could make sense, considering the source of the first Chapter 19

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message." "Corps does not−−" "For the love of the Creator, Wulfe, face reality!" Cat moved out of the shadow of his big body, paced the recovery room. "Someone in the Corps has! Until we know for certain who, none of us are safe!" Lyon cleared his throat again. "I have those other reports for you, as well, Captain." "Go ahead, Wulfe." Cat took advantage of his hesitation. "I have a couple of questions for Nora anyway. I'll catch up with you." Albright waited until the men cleared the room and gave Cat a stony face. "You're not catching up with anyone until I certify you fit for duty." "Fine. Great. I want you to contact the Orion's CMO and find out if he's been testing Wheeler for Endorphidrine." Albright gave her an impatient look. "You think I didn't do that already? How well do you know me? The second I realized the Orion was parked in orbit, I went on channel. Erich Wheeler hasn't had a trace of the stuff in his system, and Doctor Jafari tests at least twice every twenty−five hours, at random times." "This Jafari's on the level?" Chapter 19

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"Absolutely. Why?" Cat shrugged. "When Wheeler popped into Nutralia...I don't know. He still felt...wrong." "It hasn't been that long since he's been off the stuff. He could still be suffering the after effects." "I suppose. Clear me for duty so I can get out of here." "We need to discuss something first. It might even make you feel a bit better about things." "Your topic of discussion is going to have to be very good to do that." "Moira and I finally made the time to do some digging once we left Sisyphus. We believe we know why you lost your empathic talents for a while and still haven't managed to repair your bond with the captain." "I can't wait to hear this." Cat refused to allow herself any hope. Nothing had gone in the right direction for far too long, and she couldn't see things changing now. Somehow, though, that didn't squelch the thrill of optimism, the eagerness to hear the explanation. "Our speculations also provide very strong clues about what happened to the captain's memory." "Fine, I'll bite. What's your theory?" Where a reason existed, a solution might be Chapter 19

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realized. "Moira and I went over all the ship logs we could find and pieced events together. Three incidents happened within a fraction of a second of one another. To confirm our hypothesis, I need to ask you one question." "What's that?" "When the Mallochons attacked our launched shuttle back at Uhlein, did you experience anything out of the ordinary?" "No. I−−" The memory flooded back, chilled her to the core. Her stomach rolled with sickness, as if the crew members died all over again. "Oh, gods, the death screams of the dying. I heard them in my mind, felt them all die! Creator, I will hear those shrieks for the rest of my life." Albright nodded and looped a supporting arm around Cat. "Moira figured as much, especially once she saw all the logs. Me, I never would've pieced it all together. Catherine, when you heard the death screams, your mind immediately shut down, closing off the empathic links, and even the bonding link, anything that gave you sensory input at that second. I can't explain it any other way than to say your psi abilities are so closely intertwined with each other, they all froze." Chapter 19

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The nausea gradually subsided. Cat stepped away from Albright's supporting arm, away from the yearning to lean on her friend. Gods, if the doctors were right, hope might still exist. "What does this have to do with Wulfe's memory?" "He'd already entered the shuttle bay and as a result, he saw what he believed to be the Righteous explode at the same instant the empathic portion of your mind shut down. The captain assumed you and the children were on that shuttle, and in that brief fragment of time, he saw you all die and felt the bond with you disintegrate. The captain witnessed what he perceived to be his worst nightmare come true. Then, within seconds, the bay exploded around him, injuring his body and head." Relief, swift and sweet, made her bones feel like jelly. She'd been so afraid, for so long...fragments of her self−confidence glued back together and held fast. "So Wulfe didn't necessarily want to forget us!" "Absolutely not. He forgot because he loves you all so very much. Emotionally, the captain couldn't accept his perceived reality, so his subconscious created an alternate truth where the losses didn't exist. His mind's denial of your existence and the children was simply its way of preserving his sanity." Cat's throat filled with barely checked emotion. Her eyes burned. Sweet Creator, she felt Chapter 19

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like crying, something she hadn't done more than two or three times in her adult life. A simple chain of events. No intentional betrayal. Dozens of fresh questions flooded her mind. "How do we fix this mess? Can we finally tell Wulfe the truth, now?" "I'm sorry, but, no. The captain must be left to remember the events on his own. If we force the issue, we could still do great harm. We have no way to guarantee how his mind would process the information. The situation is made even trickier because of the mental link. A bond like that is totally out of my realm of expertise. Even Moira is stymied." Cat's shoulders slumped under the weight of disappointment. "The situation is complicated by guilt, too, Catherine." "Whose guilt?" But Cat knew. Of all the suffering and carnage she'd witnessed in her life, she'd never had to shoulder the brunt of being directly responsible for the death of her own comrades. "Yours and the captain's, both of which are misplaced, I might add. Captain Kincade, subconsciously at any rate, because he ordered your shuttle to be the first launched out of the bay. The Mallochons destroyed the first one out. You carry the guilt of believing you ordered those crewmen to their deaths when you changed the sequence of shuttle departure." Chapter 19

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"That's exactly what I did. I sent them out to die in my place. They died because of me!" Albright muttered a frustrated expletive. "God's stars! If you and the children had launched first−−no, I can't bear to think of those innocents losing their lives at the hands of the Mallochons! If anything, the change you made saved a dozen lives that had barely begun." "True enough, but consider this: I would've been the only one on that shuttle to realize death was screaming down on us. I guarantee you that every crew member aboard the shuttle Dauntless knew they were doomed." Albright nodded. "But I have something else for you to consider. Every adult on the Dauntless took an oath to Space Corps, same as I did. The children certainly did not." Cat clenched her hand around the hilt of her dagger until the scroll design indented into her palm. "I still should have sensed the danger." "If you and the children had been the ones to die, would Captain Kincade have been to blame for your deaths?" "Of course not! He'd have no way of knowing what would happen." "I agree. When did you become capable of seeing into the future?" "I don't have precognition," Cat expelled a deep breath. She suddenly knew what Chapter 19

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Albright needed to hear, what would make the doctor happy enough to put her mind at ease. "So the crewmen's deaths couldn't have been my fault. Nora, you're as devious as a Bartern trader." And as transparent as a butterfly wing−dancer. Albright looked relieved. "It's just the tranq dulling your mind." She leaned against the side of the recovery bed, companionably close. "Catherine, if I could do anything to find Morgan and Garrett or your mother, even help you discover what really happened to your sister, I'd do it without hesitation." The warmth of Albright's friendship spread over Cat like a downy cloak. "Your concern touches me deeply." Too deeply, Cat realized with a bit of a jolt. She couldn't allow herself to remain at the mercy of soft, tender emotions like hope or gratitude. Only the pull of duty and the drive for revenge would propel her with sufficient energy to see this disaster through to its inevitable confrontation. Revenge. The impetus that could push a person to the ends of the universe. The Mallochons had taught her that, and she was nothing if not an apt pupil.

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Chapter 20 "I THOUGHT you were in sickbay to rest, not wear a path in the deck." Cat glanced up at the sound of Seleen's familiar voice. "Not very productive, is it?" Disgusted, she waved a hand at the bedside computer terminal as she passed it. "Albright even disabled my access from here." "Good thing I brought this." "Bless you!" Cat stopped midstride and appropriated the offered handcom from Seleen. "When the captain informed the senior staff of your temporary restriction to sickbay, he didn't specifically order we not bring you anything." The communication officer blinked once, slowly. "You'll find a message coded for your eyes only, and since the captain wasn't on the bridge when it arrived, my only course of action was to bring the dispatch to you. The transmission arrived only moments ago." Cat tried to quell the upsurge of expectation, but her hand shook as it closed around the small piece of equipment. "The children?" "I don't believe so, Commander. This transmission has none of the trace signatures of the others. As for the one I'm working to decrypt, I have failed." Chapter 20

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Cat stared at her in disbelief. "You've given up?" "Not at all. It is imperative to me that I break the codes. I have managed to trace the origin of the transmission back to the Falchion." "How the bloody hell can that be?" Coiled tension exploded. Cat threw herself back into pacing. A string of messages from the Falchion all but ruled out Wheeler. Unless he had an accomplice. The very idea that someone else could be guilty made her sick. Cat chewed on her bottom lip while she studied the communication officer. She'd circumvented Seleen's console more than once. Someone else must have that expertise. Who? Seleen's muzzle whiskers twitched with ill−suppressed agitation. "I know how." A shockingly strong feeling of guilt rolled off the Grimalkan officer. The fine hairs on Cat's arms lifted in response to the chill creeping over her. It couldn't be! "Oh, Seleen! No!" The tip of Seleen's tail flicked wildly. "Aye, Commander. The messages have been−−What is the Earther term? Ah, yesss−−piggybacking on our authorized transmissions. It's the logical conclusion. I should have caught that fact sooner." Cat wilted against the hated recovery bed, weak laughter trickling out of her. "That's why you feel guilty?" "Reason enough. I failed you and the captain." Chapter 20

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"Your loyalty is the direct opposite of failure. Seleen, for the messages to piggyback like that, the timing would need to be−−" "Nearly perfect. Which means someone on the bridge, or with access to bridge functions." The fresh chill that swept through Cat brought a new clarity. Or else Albright's drugs had finally worn off enough for her to think straight again. "Not if the messages were imbedded in the computer system and activated at predetermined times." "Or certain incoming transmissssions could act as the trigger." Seleen's back practically arched. Her outrage showed in every line of her body, the sibilant sound creeping into her speech. "Any transmission in particular you have in mind?" "I am unwilling to accuse anyone without proof. If I may be excused to study the comm logs?" "By all means. Um, Seleen, if you find anything conclusive, let me know before you trouble Captain Kincade." "As you wish, Commander. The captain does have an abundance of concerns at the moment." Chapter 20

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"I appreciate your discretion." "As I was uncertain how long Doctor Albright intended to keep you here, I included a copy of the message you received on Nutralis about the children. You will also find a log of all I and the Nutralian comm monitor have done to decrypt the contents. I thought you might need something to kill time." "Seleen, you think of everything. Be assured that if the good doctor discovers I have the handcom, I won't remember where I found it." Within seconds of Seleen's departure, Cat logged onto the handcom and had her identity confirmed through voiceprint and passwords. "Play." 'Catherine.' Admiral Flemming's voice snared her complete attention. 'First, I want to assure you that while we're doing everything in our power to find your son and daughter, we have not yet met with success. I'm deeply sorry. On a personal note, I've been saying prayers I'd thought had long been forgotten.' Lack of information pertaining to the children didn't surprise her, but the continued silence further blighted her already thinly stretched hope. An ache, buried deep around her heart, threatened to burst forth in a rush of sharp pain. Cat tamped down the hurt, locked the misery away. Falling apart now would surely condemn any hope for the children, her Chapter 20

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mother or Cass. 'On to business. It appears we have a bonafide source of natural plunarium available to us. I'm sending a Covert agent to isolate and protect one of the mine owners until sale negotiations are completed. Once that is accomplished, we'll be able to shroud most of the fleet. Until we speak in person, take care.' Bless the Creator for Flemming not wanting her to take care of the mine owner. She would've refused, for she could not abandon the hunt for the children, her mother or the chairman, and who knows where the noncompliance with orders could have led. A flutter of movement in the doorway caught her attention. Cat eased the handcom into a utility pocket of her uniform, forced herself to appear relaxed. Albright strolled into the recovery room. "Been awake long?" "Yes. Not that I don't appreciate your department's hospitality, Nora, but how soon can I get out of here?" "Now, if you manage to follow a few simple guidelines." She eyed Albright's sly expression with suspicion. "How few and how simple?" "You're to go directly from here to the captain's quarters." Sounded easy enough, but her tensing muscles said differently. For some reason she Chapter 20

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couldn't identify, the sudden freedom felt like a trap. Ridiculous. "If I comply, you consider me released from medical restrictions?" "That's the deal." "Done and done!" "COME," WULFE'S voice filtered through to Cat where she stood in the corridor. Her heart pounded so hard the sound thundered in her ears. No reason in the Creator's sweet universe why her palms should perspire at the thought of entering her husband's quarters. Nonetheless, she wiped the puzzling dampness on her uniform. The door panels parted, allowing Cat to step inside the rooms she'd shared with her mate for a few glorious months. Wulfe, his wavy, sable hair loose around his silk−clad shoulders, strode across the living area to meet her. His teeth flashed whiter than the ivory of the full−sleeved shirt. The devilish grin made her knees go suddenly weak. He gestured to the low table situated in front of the lounger. Her sense of smell maintained its accuracy−−the small bouquet of freesias on the table brought back instant memories for her. Did Wulfe remember the only time he'd presented her with freesias? The night she'd become pregnant with Garrett. Chapter 20

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Startled by the thought, Cat tested for the bonding link and found...the wall. She let out a slow breath. For just a few seconds−−whether wishful thinking or fact−−she swore she'd sensed a chink in the barrier. "Wulfe?" He shrugged, looking self−conscious. "Don't ask me to explain it. Somehow, offering these to you felt right. I believe the botanist called them freesias." "That's what they are. My favorite." "Good, they please you. A couple of other things felt right, too." "Such as?" Cat spied their bonding goblet and a bottle of passion wine on the table. A tremor darted through her. They'd used that goblet a second time to renew their vows the night of Garrett's conception, and now Wulfe had it out again. His gaze followed hers. "The goblet seemed appropriate. I also seem to recall that one of your favorite things to eat is a baked potato smothered in sour cream under a mountain of cracked pepper." "You recall quite well." Thoughtful bribery. The first time Wulfe had done something so blatantly Earther−−flowers and favorite foods−−he'd seduced her quite thoroughly. Seemed to be a theme going on here. Chapter 20

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Wulfe went to the dispenser unit. The choices must have been preprogrammed because he returned with a tray in only seconds. He'd included a variety of fruits and crisp vegetables. The rich aroma of a thick, savory bresk't stew, served on a Wulfe−sized platter, made her close her eyes and remember family meals on Bellona. He put the tray onto the low table, then nodded to the food. "Meet with your approval?" "Mmm." She sat on the carpeted deck, crossed her legs beneath her while he eased himself onto the lounger. "Perfect. The food. The flowers." Cat poked a forefinger into the sour cream burying the potato and licked away the contrasting blend of peppery smoothness. "What's going on?" Wulfe had the grace to look uneasy while he finished chewing his first bite of meat. He put his fork down with great care, swallowed. His eyes unflinchingly met hers. "I've been wrong." Cat coughed on a piece of cracked pepper until her eyes watered. She finally managed to sputter, "Say again!" Wulfe grinned as he reached across the table and brushed moisture from the corner of her eyes with his fingertip. He couldn't blame her for being surprised. He'd be able to count on one hand the number of times he admitted such a thing, and still have fingers left over. Chapter 20

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"Nice to see you nearly speechless for a change." "Keep talking. See how long I stay that way." "Fair enough." Wulfe pulled his hand back. Reluctantly. But that was the only way to continue clear thought. He held no doubt about what he felt, though he didn't have a clue as to how Cat would react when he told her. He didn't care about the things gone wrong between them in the past. Cat would never have intentionally done anything to harm their unborn son. Wasn't part of her nature. An accident, a horrible twist of fate took that child's life. "So which time are we talking about?" "Which time? Have I been wrong that often, in your opinion?" "Often enough, and when you're wrong, you are wrong." "I see." Quality makes up for quantity, hmm? Cat's amber eyes sparked with new emotion. "Or are you referring to something new I have yet to discover?" She wasn't going to make this easy for him. "You can be−−no, you are−−the most exasperating female the Creator ever put into this universe!" "So you've said before, though not so good−naturedly." She arched her eyebrow at him Chapter 20

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in that saucy, defiant way of hers. "Wulfe? How bad can this be?" His recent thoughts of confession locked, refused to verbalize. The perfect moment had passed, Wulfe realized with regret. Ah, well, the correct time would show itself, but for now, he had to come up with something. "I underestimated your fortitude. Your inner strength is a continual source of amazement to me." "Oh. Well." Cat looked at him quizzically, shrugged. "I've had a piece of good news, if you're interested." Wulfe felt a flush of encouragement. "Really? Garrett and Morgan? What?" She put the forkful of potato back down. "Not good, like finding the children, or anyone else, for that matter. Good for the League and Space Corps." She brought the fork to her mouth again, paused as she continued. "A natural source of plunarium. Covert only needs to keep one of the owners safe until a deal can be made." Covert would tear Cat away from him yet again! Wulfe clenched his teeth, ground them together so hard he thought his jawbone would crack, until he gained control. If she intended to leave the Falchion to do Covert's bidding, he'd give her a memory to take with her, by the gods! He shoved the dishes away, stood and towered over her. Chapter 20

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Cat dropped her fork and scrambled backwards across the floor at least a meter before he could take another step. His intentions must have radiated from him in empathic waves, because she watched him with a wide−eyed consternation that made him realize how vulnerable she could really be. The tip of her tongue quickly touched the center of her full bottom lip. His pulse raged while she seemed to make a speedy assessment of their situation. Wulfe stepped around the table, moved toward Cat, held out a hand to her and waited. The delicate, familiar hand slid into his without betraying any hesitation so he could help her to her feet. She came up and into his arms in one fluid motion. Cat shook her head. "I'm not hungry anymore." Her sweet, throaty voice sent a shiver arrowing down his spine. "I'm starved. For you, ma'ten." She curved her arms around his waist, leaned back far enough to look up at him, a smile lifting her lips. "You know me. I always have room for dessert." "As do I, if you are the sweet." He cupped her cheek in his palm. "I care not what has gone before. I am concerned only with today, and anticipate our many tomorrows together." Chapter 20

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Her lips parted on a soft breath of exhalation. "The truth of your words fills my heart." Something tight and coiled inside him released and finally began to live again. "Then I need only to fill the rest of you." He'd clear her mind of their troubles if only for an interval. His own, too. They wound themselves around each other. A slow, easy tumble took them to their knees and eventually to lie together on the deck. Wulfe captured Cat's mouth with his while the fingers of one hand slid down and around the slim column of her neck. He moved his hand lower, marveling at the heat her body created. She arched into him until her generous breast filled his palm, the hardening peak jutting through clingy uniform fabric. Skin! He wanted to touch, caress, bare hot skin. He needed her to burn for him the way he flamed for her. Questing fingers, exploring hands made short frantic work of confining clothes until they both had what they needed. Flesh, silky and heated. Wulfe slowed his pace then reacquainting himself with the honey−sweet smoothness of Cat's body. He traced the gentle hollows with his lips, tasted the generous curves with his tongue. He lingered over every satiny spot that made her gasp or catch her breath. "Do you burn for me, ma'ten?" In response, she stopped exploring him with her moist mouth and grazed one of his Chapter 20

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nipples with her teeth. Wulfe gloried in the sudden wanton lavishness of her tongue on him, her searching touches that threatened to loose his inner savage. The low sound, almost purr−like in its intensity, from the back of Cat's throat acted as pure invitation for him to increase his attentions. She writhed, reaching, reaching. Her hot, magical hand cupped around him and he thought he'd die of the pleasure. Just when he thought he could bear no more, she shifted her hand, stroked him from base to tip until he knew he'd explode. Cat felt the rumble of desire build deep in Wulfe's broad chest even before she heard the telltale sound. She released the hot length of flesh, wriggled her body until she could tip her hips under her husband, wrap her legs around him. She locked gazes with Wulfe, watched his brown eyes go even darker as he eased into her centimeter by breath−stealing centimeter. "I cherish you, ma'ten." The simple declaration in his deep voice moved through her, vibrated to her soul, made her heart ache with joy. When she thought she couldn't stand the absence of movement another second, Wulfe commenced a slow, deep rhythm designed to transport both of them to the brink of madness. He lengthened his stroke, going deeper, withdrawing further, always faster, Chapter 20

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harder, wilder. Magical heat grew, expanded to become an engulfing sexual flame. Liquid fire burned through her veins, bound them together, mind, heart and soul, only to explode in a rationale−rending culmination, shattering her control. A second later, Wulfe cried out her name, low and hoarse, and followed her into oblivion. Awareness came back to her in delicious little tremors created by Wulfe's mouth on her shoulder, lazily tasting her skin. Cat cleared her throat. "I burn for you." A soft, deep rumble of laughter made Wulfe's warm breath caress her neck. "I figured that out." He rolled to his back. Cat went with him, draping one leg over his groin, resting her head on his massive chest. She skimmed her fingers through the tangle of chest hair, listened to the pounding of his heart; reality crept in with the slowing beat. Wulfe wrapped both arms around her. "Are you cold? You shivered." "Cold? When I'm around you? Never." Cat stretched, flexed languid muscles, her torso twisted away from Wulfe when she gestured vaguely to their scattered clothing. "Duty calls." "Relentlessly. I'll have to settle for a sonic shower." Chapter 20

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A few minutes later Cat stood in the sleeping chamber next to the sleeper and watched Wulfe pull on a uniform. He'd been unusually quiet the last few minutes and she could sense something worried him, enough that he seemed uncertain of his actions. She adjusted the waist of her own uniform. "Returning to the bridge?" Wulfe glanced at her, a slight frown marking his brow. "I must handle a couple of, uh, unforseen details." "Anything I can do to help?" "No, I−−yes, there is." "Tell me." He disappeared into the living area, came back with the goblet and bottle of passion wine. "I know traditionally we should drink this before we make love, but we seem to shatter all conventions. Let's toast a new beginning." "I believe that's a fine idea." She studied Wulfe while he poured the goblet full. Uneasiness radiated from him, as though he kept a secret. "To us." He offered her the first sip. Warmed by Wulfe's words but puzzled by his churning emotions−−tainted by a hint of deceit−−Cat employed her own brand of trickery. She resorted to ritual. She dipped her Chapter 20

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forefinger into the goblet, licked the wine away to prove it safe for her Lord. A shadow flickered in his eyes and cautious alarm emanated from him. Wulfe took a sip and handed the goblet back to her. "I think I saw your hair clasps in the living area. I'll get them for you while you finish the wine." Cat nodded in agreement. The second he left the chamber, she raced to the head, dumped the wine and sped back to the bedside. What the bloody hell was he up to? Wulfe returned, placed the metal clasps on the small table next to the bed. He stepped close to her, just beginning to tie his hair back. Wulfe stopped, reached for her, and looked at the empty goblet. "You finished it. Good. Would you like some more?" "I don't think so." He ran his hands down her arms until he encircled each of her wrists. He moved her wrists behind her back, held them there while he kissed her with slow, sweet and traitorous sensuality. Only when he released her mouth did she realize he'd tied her arms together with the strip of leather. "I didn't think you had time for games." Wulfe stepped back, his face serious. "This is no game. Sure you don't want more wine?" Humor quickly evaporated as she comprehended his seriousness. He'd drugged the Chapter 20

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passion wine! "Then what the bloody hell is it?" "I refuse to allow Covert to take you from our lives ever again." "Covert isn't taking me anywhere." "You bet they're not. You will not be the one to go to the aide of this mine owner." "I had no intention of doing so! This isn't funny! Untie me! Now!" "No." Wulfe picked her up, settled her on the bed and grabbed another strip of leather from the bedside table. "I demand−−" "Trust me when I tell you that you are in no position to demand anything of me." Cat swung her lower body over and upward with every dram of strength she had. Wulfe moved fast enough she missed connecting with his belly, but only by a hairsbreadth. He shook his head, almost regretfully, and used the second thong to tie her booted ankles together instead. "Enough." "I will never forgive you for this." She glared at him, refusing to cower beneath his unyielding gaze. "I have no doubt of that, but at least you will be alive to carry the grudge. Try not to do anything to hurt yourself while I'm gone." Wulfe released the stiletto from her thigh sheath. Chapter 20

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"You won't need this. Or this." He took his sidearm off its stand. "Lie back. Relax. Sleep. You need the rest." He pivoted to leave the sleeping chamber, stopped to turn back and study her, took the rank insignia from her collar. "Computer. Disable all computer terminals and voice links to these quarters. Eliminate Commander Culver's command overrides to these quarters. Secure all exits after my departure. Reactivate systems only on my command." Acknowledged. Wulfe turned his back on her, walked from the room. Cat screamed her rage at his retreating form. Every vile name she could think of in at least thirty languages spewed forth. "You have not won, Bellon! If it takes my last breath, you will pay for this!" "Of that I have no doubt," his response floated back to her as left the quarters.

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Chapter 21 HALFWAY TO the bridge, Wulfe almost turned around and went back. Tying up Cat had been a spur of the moment impulse when he realized the tranq wasn't working as fast as he'd expected. The first rush of action had faded and now been replaced by unfamiliar guilt. Warriors seldom experienced such a pointless emotion, but Cat brought out the unexpected in him. She always had. He soothed his conscience by reminding himself he acted strictly to keep her safe. The bindings, snug enough to hold against her squirming, shouldn't be tight enough to cut off circulation. Besides, she'd fall asleep in a few minutes and he'd return to his quarters to remove the thongs. Cat desperately needed the rest. The only damage this short confinement could cause would be some bruised pride on her part. And any broken bones Cat might inflict on him in retaliation. Wulfe made a face at the wall of the otherwise empty lift car when he thought about his mate's temper. Still, that was part of her attraction. The lift doors parted and revealed the bridge crew engaged in a flurry of activity. "Verify that transmission," Jinny Riordan ordered in a stern voice Wulfe seldom heard Chapter 21

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the young Earther use. "Aye," Seleen responded. "Identification signal confirmed, and they are under attack." Wulfe strode onto the bridge, muscles tensing for action. "Who is?" "Captain!" Riordan spun her seat around so she could face him. "The Orion, Sir. By the Mallochons. Captain Wheeler is requesting assistance." "Lay in a course." "Done, Sir." "Let's move, then. Best speed." Wulfe looked to Seleen. "What are you picking up?" "Long and short range scanners on line. Nothing out of the ordinary here in the Nutralian system, Captain. Scanning clear space between us and the Orion. I've notified Nutralis we are breaking orbit and temporarily leaving their system." "Very well." Wulfe paced, too keyed up to sit and wait patiently in his captain's chair while he weighed the odds this could be a trick of some kind. No; Seleen had verified the ID as ordered by Riordan. Now he must trust in Wheeler's ability to lead the Orion's crew until the Falchion arrived. With luck, Wheeler's crew would have some previous fighting experience of their own. "Seleen. Go to yellow alert, all decks. Inform Lieutenant Lyon what's happening so Chapter 21

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the flight crews are ready to scramble." "Aye, Sir. Any special orders for Commander Culver?" "What?" Wulfe's power of thought froze for a split second. Creator! Cat was−−he couldn't leave the bridge in the middle of an alert like this. Perhaps Albright−−no, he couldn't put his mate in that embarrassing position. Nor did he wish to face Albright's expected tirade about the situation. Cat would have to wait. "The commander is unavailable for the time being." CAT RANTED UNTIL reasonably certain Wulfe wouldn't return any time soon−−the yellow alert confirmed her feeling. She immediately channeled her energies into twisting her body enough to retrieve the small knife hidden inside the shaft of her left boot. Each unnatural contortion prompted Cat to remember a choice epithet to rain down upon Wulfe. Panting from exertion, frustration and rage, she separated herself from all but her goal: getting the bloody hell out of this mess. The tips of two fingers grazed the hilt of the knife. Cat stopped breathing. She forced one finger a millimeter further. Back muscles spasmed. Her fingernail caught on a groove in the hilt. Tendons threatened to pop. She pried against the knife handle, all but begging her nail Chapter 21

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not to break. She exhaled the second she moved the knife enough to trigger the release mechanism and the hilt sprang into her hand. "Ha! Pays to do a flexing routine along with strength training." Wulfe committed this outrageousness in a blind attempt to protect her, but the bloody barbarian had gone too far! Given time, she'd come up with the appropriate retaliation. Curling into new positions to slice the leather thongs was nothing compared to what she'd gone through to get the blade. At least Wulfe had been thoughtful enough not to tie the thongs too tightly; circulation hadn't been cut off. Of course, he probably expected her to be asleep by now. Cat took stock of her situation. No control over the computer terminals in the rooms. Nothing to blast through the doors. Maybe she could carve her way through with the knife. Sure, but only if she had the next twenty−five hours. A long span of time to kill. With that suddenly illuminating thought, she retrieved the handcom−−the perfect productive way to pass the time−−from her utility pocket and grinned. "I see a promotion in your future, Seleen." What had provoked the yellow alert? She shook her head as though to scatter useless thoughts so she could focus on the situation. If it wasn't serious enough for Wulfe to release Chapter 21

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her from this temporary prison, then it wasn't serious enough for her to worry over. She'd tended to different matters while waiting for others to decrypt the last message concerning the children. Now she had a chance to see if she could make any inroads on the problem. Cat hated to admit it, but Wulfe might have done her a favor by locking her in here. She glanced at the locked doorways as she paced from room to room. No, no favors, but he'd certainly provided an opportunity he hadn't considered. She'd have no interruptions here. Make stepping stones out of stumbling blocks, the Dove always said. Cat reviewed the handcom's logs and studied all the decryption codes Seleen and the Nutralian tried to use. Both obviously understood thoroughness. They'd even attempted some ancient keys, outmoded for decades. Okay, so the standards didn't work. The chances of the message author stumbling across the keys to a Covert code weren't high, but she'd try anything at this point. She anticipated the first failure, but that didn't eliminate the feeling of defeat, the sickening sense of futility. Cat tried four more keys. Each met with the expected results. Each lack of success drained her supply of optimism. She sagged onto the edge of the lounger. Her forearms rested on the top of her thighs as Chapter 21

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she leaned forward, weighted by resignation. She conceded to failure, to losing almost everything she held dear, gave in to despair. Unacceptable. She gritted her teeth, searched for the inner fortitude to continue the journey, willed one spark of energy to surface. Cat jumped to her feet, determined to overcome the passiveness to which she'd momentarily succumbed. Pacing again, she scowled at the handcom's tiny screen, tried to dredge up logical thought. What could she do that Seleen couldn't? Too bad the sender of the message didn't use voice recognition like Covert. She stopped dead in her tracks. That thought wasn't so far off the star charts. Her mind churned. Wheeler could very well use her voice print−−he'd had hundreds of opportunities to record her. Sweet Creator! That moment on Nutralis when Wheeler brushed dirt from her face! She shivered, remembering the peculiar tacky sensation of his fingers. Collection pads! That's when the slime had obtained pheromone samples. The sonic grenade on Nutralis had zeroed in on her pheromones. Garesh take Wheeler to the deepest level! It had been him all along! All lethargy vaporized from her system. She had nothing to lose by trying, and everything to gain. Cat accessed the coded message, instructed the file to recognize her Chapter 21

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voice patterns and play the message. Her heart thudded in the silence while she watched a series of small readouts blink on the handcom, waited to see if she'd been right about Wheeler using her voice print as the key. Identity confirmed. "Yes!" She expelled an explosive breath. Triumph, jubilant and frightening, sang through her. 'Hi, Cathy.' Wheeler's taunting voice invaded the silence. Finally, the proof she needed! A sharp pain shot through her stomach. This ultimate betrayal of Wheeler's would kill Wulfe. 'Oh, I know how much you hate anyone calling you that. Tough.' Wheeler's snigger set her teeth on edge. 'The only way you're going to get the children back is to leave the Falchion. Once you leave, you don't go back and you don't tell Captain Kincade. If I hear one word of this has reached his ears, you'll never see the little buggers alive again. Fallon and the brats will be in a habitat shelter on the third moon of the planet Pyrus. The Patten system. They'll have enough food, water and air to last them until 1030 hours, twenty−fifth day of the eight month−−if nothing goes wrong. See you around...Cathy.' Chapter 21

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Garrett and Morgan had three and a half hours of air! Cat went into hyperdrive. Now she had a reason to get out of here! She pried an access panel off the mechanism for the main exit, stripped away gel conduit so she could jack in the handcom. First try didn't work. Perspiration stung her eyes. The second attempt lit up the handcom like a red alert board and the door whooshed open. She sprinted down the corridor to the nearest lift, hit the car's override and let it rocket to the lower decks. Cat dashed through the last corridor and then across the flight bay, shouting orders, fumbling to tie the hair flying loose around her into a manageable knot. "Sergeant, prep the Peacemaker for immediate flight. Find Lieutenant Lyon. Get me a flight suit." The tech sergeant gaped at her. "Commander?" Only when she stumbled to a stop did Cat feel the nearly subliminal thrum in the soles of her feet that meant the Falchion had left orbit and entered hyperspace. Sweet Creator, don't let us be going the wrong way! If so, she might never make it to the Patten system in time to rescue Fallon, Morgan and Garrett before they ran out of air. Mykal Lyon, already in his flight suit, made a hasty appearance from between two Chapter 21

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fighters. "Commander Culver. Glad you could join us. Word came down that you were tied up elsewhere." Oh, I bet it did! "I cut loose sooner than expected. Where are we headed? What's happened?" Lyon gave her a quizzical look, to which she gestured vaguely to her uniform collar. "My insignia walked off somewhere. Looks like you have the flight squads prepped." "Aye. We're heading into the Patten system." The news hit her with a jolt, but she managed to cover her surprise. Bless the Creator and Sister Fate for something finally going right! While Lyon told her what he knew of their detour, she unobtrusively maneuvered the two of them to the quiet deck space around the Peacemaker. There, Cat explained about Wheeler and the decrypted message. Lyon's dark green eyes hardened to icy chips of angry black. "I'd be more than happy to foil Wheeler's plans. I am at your service, Lady Cat." "We need to work fast." She pulled out the trusty handcom and began to make entries. "If I don't make it back, give this unit to Wulfe. It should explain a lot, and tell him where to find any information he needs." "You're coming back, Commander." Lyon flashed her an almost boyish grin. "We Chapter 21

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coordinate our efforts with the bridge?" "No." Cat looked up into Lyon's grave face. "The captain may not allow us to risk a flight squad when he has Mallochons to fend off. Mykal, I can't tell you to defy the captain's orders. This is a decision only you can make for yourself, but I'm going, with or without you." Someone behind her coughed softly. "I will accompany you, Commander." Cat whirled to find Blackwood grinning down at her. "You?" "Aye. I figure you, the lieutenant and I make a formidable flight squad. We should be able to peel off from the rest of the wing without too much trouble." "You could ruin a promising career, Blackwood." "Or take it to glory." Lyon motioned to Cat's handcom. "Guess you'll have to give that to Frank Ellery for safekeeping." The chances of bringing the children home alive had just tripled. Bless the Creator for comrades like Lyon and Blackwood. "If we fail, all three of us could become part of the Celestial Glory."

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WULFE PACED the bridge in an effort to order his thoughts in a mind exhausted from all the mental gymnastics. "Approaching the Patten system. Scanners picking up more details, Captain." He straightened his spine, watched the main screen. "Sound red alert. Give me facts, Seleen." "Aye. Three detectable Mallochon ships. Heavy cruisers. One badly damaged. Another with minor hull breaches." A low yowl of distress punctuated her recitation. "Wheeler's Orion has considerable damage, Sir." "Specify." "Maneuvering thrusters inoperable. Life support failing. Containment field around her hyperdrive crumbling−−the hyperdrive is on the verge of implosion." The situation looked grim at best. "The Orion's deflector shields?" "They're trying to funnel any remaining available power to them without much success." "Target Mallochon ships. Fire at will as we come into range. Launch fighters with orders to engage the enemy." "The enemy, Sir?" Wulfe glared at the images on the viewing screen. Anger raged through his body, his Chapter 21

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mind, like an uncontrolled fire. "If the Mallochons want a war, they have just found one." "Captain, the Orion is asking for covering fire so they may launch lifepods." "Tell them to wait until we're closer, if they can. Seleen, tell Lyon to have the first squadron draw Mallochon fire, the second usher the lifepods to the Falchion." "Aye, Captain." Legs braced far apart, Wulfe stood at the top of the bridge, watched the screen as the crippled Space Corps Orion and the Mallochon ships grew ever larger. The unscathed Mallochon cruiser turned to bear her weapons on the Falchion. "Full shields." "Full shields, aye. First squadron away, Captain. Led by Lieutenant Lyon." Aye, Lyon in his Wildchild would be the one to draw the first heat of battle. Wulfe studied the unfolding scene dispassionately as the small fighters zipped around the huge, slower to maneuver Mallochon ship and inflicted as much damage as they could. "Second squadron away. Blackwood's." Good, good. Lyon had ordered the less experienced officer to the ushering duty. The screen lit up with explosions, the view littered by fragments turned to projectiles. "Third squadron away. Commander Culver's." "What?" The one−word roar clogged his throat. How the narg−−? Cat should be safe Chapter 21

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from this, safe from everything! "Patch me through to her! Now!" "Patching, Sir!" "Well?" "No response, Sir. She's receiving, just not responding." The Falchion rocked under his feet as the starcruiser took a direct hit from the Mallochons. He flexed his knees to keep his balance. "Helm, evasive action! Keep those shields up! Seleen, target their weapons array!" "Aye. Hadron torpedoes coming online. Firing meson cannons." The cannons punched through portions of the Mallochon shields, cleared a path for the torpedoes. The Falchion's bridge crew yelled in short−lived triumph as a portion of the Mallochon's starboard side crumpled under the onslaught. The first Mallochon cruiser with the damaged shields fired at the Orion with deadly accuracy to send her spinning off her axis. Almost simultaneously, a myriad of lifepods sprang loose from the Orion's hull and gyrated into open space. Blackwood's squadron surrounded as many of the pods as they could and extended their protective shields around the little lifeboats. Portions of the third squadron flew in formation behind the protected pods, laying down a covering fire for their retreat. Chapter 21

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The Falchion wheeled and targeted the most able Mallochon ship, sliced through the defensive shields and sent her into an explosive oblivion. The Orion spun around, discharged more lifepods, then pinwheeled into the first Mallochon vessel to be crippled. They detonated in spectacular unison, throwing the lifepods into wild trajectories. One Mallochon ship remained. "Captain, the first wave of survivors is coming aboard," Seleen announced with satisfaction. "Captain Wheeler requests permission to join you on the bridge." Wulfe's eyes narrowed. "Wheeler?" As captain, he should have stayed on his ship until the last of the crew had departed. Cat's words of warning echoed alarmingly in his mind. "Send him up. I want to see him. The sooner the better." "Aye, Sir." The tip of Seleen's tail twitched sharply as she relayed the message to the flight bay. "Permission to target the remaining ship, Sir?" He looked back to the screen to see the Mallochon vessel turning away. "Order them to stand down, then hold for a few seconds, Seleen. I want to see their reaction. Get me status reports on our condition and those of the fighters bringing in the other pods." Seleen turned her attention back to her control boards. Her sharp, low hiss of disapproval a few seconds later told him the opening lift doors revealed Wheeler. Chapter 21

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"Captain Kincade, your arrival was most fortuitous. Most of my crew got out in time." Wulfe eyed Wheeler with newfound insight, and didn't like what he saw one bit. "Most of the crew?" Wheeler seemed to struggle for a moment to put words together. "We lost a few people in the first attack, a handful more in the second wave. We put everyone still breathing into a pod." "How can you be certain of that when you were one of the first to abandon ship?" "Oh, that." Wheeler flushed, looked down at the deck. "Damn ensign panicked, hit the eject command before my order to do so." "And you didn't bother to override in time?" "Not fast enough, I guess." "Captain," Seleen interrupted, "damage and casualty reports coming up on your personal screen now. The Mallochon ship is refusing to respond to our hail." "What the narg are they doing here in the first place?" Wheeler shrugged. "I figure they saw the Orion patrolling the system and thought we'd found something in the mining operations on the moons around Pyrus." Wulfe flicked an observant glance over his former first officer. The sense of unease and Chapter 21

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distrust grew, and he hated the sensation. Blast Cat and her finger pointing. "Are the mining engineers finding anything of value?" "Not really. In fact, the activities on the third moon have even been abandoned." "I see. Seleen, status of the fighters?" "All have returned except for the two destroyed in the confrontation. And the other three leaving the immediate area." "What other three?" "The three now being targeted by the Mallochon ship!" "Who are the pilots?" Seleen scanned her tactical board, her muzzled whiskers jerking. "Blackwood, Lyon and, um, Commander Culver." "For the love of the Creator! Just what the narg do they think they're doing?" "I don't know, Sir! They aren't answering my hails. Captain, the Mallochon vessel is attempting to target them; she's also bringing her tractor beams on line!" "Knock out the Mallochon's power grids! Then you tell those fighters to get their collective tails back here!" "Aye, Sir!" Chapter 21

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Seleen's nimble paw−like hand played across the control panel with deadly accuracy to send a torpedo hurtling into the Mallochon's tractor grid. As a result, Blackwood's fighter spun end over end off into space. Lyon and Cat sprang loose with much more control, racing each other away from the Mallochon ship pursuing them, away from the Falchion. "Increase magnification! Helm, catch the enemy. Seleen, fire again as soon as we're in range." "Aye, Captain. The fighter pilots still are not answering my hails." Wulfe watched in blood−chilling fascination as the heavy Mallochon cruiser sped after the small fighters. His heart raced like a hyperdrive engine ready to implode when his screen told him the Mallochon's weapons were charged. "Seleen?" "Four seconds to our optimum range. Targeting. Ssstars!" The Mallochon ship fired at the precise moment Cat and Lyon's flight paths diverged. Lyon whipped around the Mallochon's starboard side and his Wildchild jetted away. Cat's Peacemaker exploded in an eye−searing burst of glory that momentarily blanked out the magnified screens. "Nooo!" Wulfe's bellowed denial ripped through his vocal cords until he swallowed blood. Chapter 21

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Chapter 22 CAT BARELY had time to place the handcom and its invaluable information into Chief Ellery's possession before the ship−wide red alert klaxons sounded. "Chief, if I don't come back, see that the captain gets this. I planned to leave it with Mykal or Blackwood, but they're risking as much as I am to go with me, so it's up to you to follow through. If there's a problem, go see Albright." Ellery snapped her a salute. "You know I will, Commander." Seleen's amplified voice cut through the controlled chaos on the flight deck, advising Lyon to have his team, the first squadron, ready to draw enemy fire. The second squadron out, now headed by Blackwood, would close a protective shield formation around the expected launch of lifepods from the Orion. Cat spearheaded the third, unscheduled squadron. Lyon and Blackwood agreed with her; each of them should fly their respective crafts solo to eliminate the risk for copilots. Once their fighters left the relative protection of the Falchion's range of fire, they would be the targets of choice for the Mallochons. She double−checked the normal comm links between squadrons and the mother ship, as well as the frequency dedicated to the three of them, a Chapter 22

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frequency no one else would be able to use, not even Seleen. Time. The children would be out of oxygen in less than three hours. Impatient with the necessary delay, Cat watched while the other two squadrons launched. Her stomach knotted into a fist−sized lump of anxiety that refused to sit still. Not enough time, and what remained raced by at hyperspeed. She busied herself checking and rechecking the readouts on the control console of the Peacemaker while she waited her turn. Her launch window came on the heels of a staggering explosion of firepower viewable from the launch bay. Seconds after clearing the bay, the link with the Falchion crackled to life with Seleen demanding a response. Cat ignored the summons, knowing full well that right about now Wulfe would be ready to erupt with cataclysmic force. He'd intended only to keep her safe by incarcerating her, but she'd foiled him by her appearance with the squadron, caught him unprepared. She held her breath and actually cringed when the Falchion took a direct hit from one of the Mallochon ships, and cheered when the Falchion's torpedoes returned the damage tenfold. Send those monsters to the Underworld! The Orion, bombarded by the Mallochons, spun crazily in space. A flotilla of lifepods popped free of her weakened hull. The squadron under Blackwood encompassed the pods, Chapter 22

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shielding them. Cat ordered half of her own squadron to cover their retreat. Then events happened so fast they made her dizzy trying to keep up. The Falchion carved through the shields of one of the Mallochon cruisers and blew her into nonexistence. The Orion spewed out more lifepods, careened into the crippled Mallochon vessel, exploded on impact. The Peacemaker's sensors told Cat that the first rush of lifepods reached the Falchion safely. She sent the last of her squadron to escort the second batch of pods. The remaining Mallochon ship floundered in its attempt to navigate away. Now−−the opportunity they needed−−the final moments of the confrontation might give her, Lyon and Blackwood enough cover to move undetected. Cat transmitted the signal to her cohorts to break away from the vicinity of the Falchion. Creator bless them all. Over the main comm link she heard Seleen's voice command the Mallochons to stand down. They didn't respond to the Grimalkan's hails. Instead, the Mallochons turned on Lyon, Blackwood, and Cat as their fighters changed course. Seleen's orders for the squadron leaders to return to base snapped with urgency over the comm link. A Mallochon tractor beam latched onto the Peacemaker. The fighter lurched violently. Chapter 22

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Cat boosted power to the thrusters in an attempt to veer away from the beam. Warning lights predicted a system overload in ten seconds. She ignored them, winced at the life−threatening groans of biranium seams protesting the unnatural stress. Her tactical grid displayed a torpedo from the Falchion hurtling toward the Mallochon ship. It hit the vessel's tractor grid dead−on. The sudden cessation of the tractor beam sent an unprepared Blackwood gyrating away. The Peacemaker and the Wildchild sprang free, sped from the enemy ship. 'Their weapons are going hot and we're the targets.' "I see it," Cat answered Lyon on the frequency dedicated to the squadron leaders. "Timing is everything. Three. Two." Lyon's battle cry punctuated her count of one, and everything happened simultaneously. The Wildchild and the Peacemaker altered flight paths, swerved off on opposite headings. The Mallochons bombarded them with their plasma cannons. Cat activated the defective shrouding system connected to her ship's outer hull, which would destroy the false hull. She immediately engaged the dependable shrouder, rendering her fighter invisible to sensors and to the eye. She corrected course yet again. The Mallochon's plasma burst sliced through the area of space the Peacemaker had just Chapter 22

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vacated, scattering the remnants of her ship's outer hull and the old Falchion scrap fragments hidden within. Her ship ghosting now, Cat evaded the menace of flying debris. Piercing pain lanced through her head, followed quickly by a fierce attack of vertigo. The discomfort faded and elation filled her. Miracle of miracles! Out here in the emptiness of space, she was no longer alone! Wulfe's anguished cry echoed through her mind. Seeing what looked like her fighter blown into oblivion must have triggered something, opened his mind to the bonding link! She sent loving, reassuring thoughts to her husband. The chaos of his agonized emotions ebbed to be replaced by an exultant joy that thrilled her, took her breath away. She couldn't take the time to rejoice in the reenergized mental link with Wulfe. If Wheeler had made it off the Orion alive, she couldn't risk him finding out she was still alive. Not until she'd rescued Garrett, Morgan and Fallon. Gods, she had to reach them before the slimeworm realized she still lived. Cat watched Lyon dart off, the Mallochon ship hot on his ion trail. Creator protect the valiant security chief. With utmost reluctance, she maintained radio silence and prepared to set course away from the Falchion. Chapter 22

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WULFE CLOSED his eyes to the gut−wrenching sight. No man should ever be expected to watch his mate die twice and remain sane. Eyes still shut, the scene outside the Falchion interplayed with the nightmare that happened to the shuttle carrying his family. Against his will, he relived the moment in time that had seemed to destroy his entire life. Visions merged in blood−chilling detail. Twice? Cat's loving life−affirming mindtouch erased the horrors. She lived! Left too breathless to speak, all Wulfe could do was open his eyes and stare at the view screen, watch chunks of what seemed to be the Peacemaker's debris hurtle past and still know that Cat had somehow survived the Mallochon's assault. Twice. Unaware of his inner revelations, the rest of the bridge crew around him worked in stunned silence, their faces blanched white or strained into grim lines. He wanted to tell them the glorious news, but something held the words back. Door panels to the secondary lift whispered open. Albright stepped onto the bridge and made straight for Wulfe. "I have to speak with you, Captain." "It'll have to wait." "It can't. I won't." Albright slapped an inactive handcom against her thigh as she spoke. Chapter 22

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"This is a Class One Emergency." "Not now, Doctor!" Wheeler cleared his throat. "I'm not sure what to say, Cap, except maybe losing Catherine right now works out for the best." Not bothering to hold back the feral snarl twisting his upper lip, Wulfe whirled to face Wheeler. "Explain yourself!" "If it had to happen, at least I'm here to help you out. You need a first officer again. I'm without a ship. The choice seems logical to me." "Oh, God's stars!" Albright's fair complexion turned an apoplectic red and she slapped her thigh harder with the handcom, as if she wanted to bang it into Wheeler's face. Wulfe decided if she tried, he'd let her. Seleen hissed, the claws on her hands unsheathed and glittering dangerously in the red alert lighting. Wulfe clenched his hands into tight, tendon−snapping fists to keep from ripping the Earther's head off his neck. Wheeler's presence stayed him from rejoicing in the fact that his mate cheated death yet again−−instinct warned him that he must keep the truth from Wheeler at all costs. Cat's accusations against the Earther−−Creator! So deadly accurate! Chapter 22

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He could see it all so clearly now. But they needed proof−−hard and fast proof−−of Wheeler's betrayal. "Captain, I really must speak with you! Now!" "Back off, Doctor." Wulfe scrutinized Wheeler through narrowed eyes. "So you expect to step in as my exec?" Wheeler uneasily looked around at the rest of the bridge crew when Seleen again hissed her obvious disapproval. "Unless you don't want me back for some reason." "Captain, if you don't give me a few minutes right now, I swear I will strip naked and do a war dance on your bridge!" Wheeler moved toward Albright. "That's quite enough, Doctor. You will leave the bridge at once." "Like hell! Touch me and I'll break my oath to do no harm!" "Leave her alone, Wheeler." "I'm only trying to do my job, Cap." His job? Wulfe glared at Wheeler. "That's Captain." Then he ignored Wheeler. "Update, Seleen." "The Mallochon cruiser is in pursuit of Lieutenant Lyon and actively firing on him. His Chapter 22

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shields are down over sixty percent." "Riordan, lay in a course for intercept." "Aye." "Seleen, have the fighters ready for relaunch." "Aye, Captain. Sir, Blackwood has made contact with us. She's having navigation problems but is confident she'll be able to make repairs and rejoin us." While the Falchion swiftly moved to overtake the remaining Mallochon ship, Wulfe relished the comforting presence of Cat in his mind. He had no idea where she was, only that she had survived the Mallochon strike, and that she raged against some sort of constraint imposed by another. He had the sense the restraint was something other than physical−−time, perhaps? Beyond those few facts, he sensed her fierce determination to triumph. He had no reason to doubt her success. In that moment when they'd reconnected, forgotten memories flooded his being. No wonder he'd loved Cat, instinctively trusted her against all logic. His brave little warrior with the valorous heart. How had he endured any length of time without the bond? More to the point, how had Cat survived? Only her warrior heart! Wulfe motioned Albright over to an alcove in the bridge bulkhead. "You have two Chapter 22

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minutes, Doctor." She passed him the handcom. "Nobody else should hear this, so use the screen." Wulfe activated the handcom, scrolled through the information. First, Cat's succinct summation of her suspicions regarding Wheeler. The steps she'd taken as Wulfe's first officer and why. Wheeler's Endorphidrine habit. Cat urging Wulfe to discuss everything with Albright or Lyon. And most damning of all, Wheeler's message telling Cat where the children could be found and how long she had to retrieve them before they ran out of oxygen. Wulfe darted a look at the nearest chronometer. Less than one hour! "Captain!" Seleen's distressed yowl tore Wulfe from the depths of the handcom's data files. The comm officer's slant−set eyes stared wide open at the viewing screen, and he followed suit. The Mallochon vessel bore down on Lyon with devastating bursts of plasma. "How soon will we be in range?" "Ssseconds." "Target!" "Captain, the Mallochon cruiser is sending out a distress call asking for reinforcements Chapter 22

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from their fleet." "Stop them!" "NO, DAMMIT!" Cat's screamed objection bounced around the interior of her fighter, all but deafening her as she averted her eyes. Even from this distance, the retina−searing white−hot blast temporarily blinded her ship's sensors. The Falchion had fired on the Mallochon cruiser the same instant the Mallochons bombarded Lyon with an immense plasma burst. Lyon winked from reality as if he'd never existed. The Mallochon vessel exploded into millions of pieces of deadly projectiles. A bleak coldness formed in the pit of her stomach. Gone. The man she thought of as family, the warrior she'd be proud to name Brother, lost in the quest to help her. The raw hurt of grief and guilt, increased double−fold by the backwash of helplessly anguished emotion from Wulfe, fueled her determination to bring Morgan, Garrett and Fallon home. She erected the strongest mental shields she could muster to keep her mind focused. Only then, did she place the tiny mechanism in one ear canal to provide her with an audio countdown of the time remaining before Garrett and Morgan ran out of oxygen. Cat resolutely turned her ghosting fighter from the fading glow of Lyon's violent end, Chapter 22

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closed her mind to outside distractions. She must concentrate. She laid in a course for Pyrus's third moon and pushed the small craft to the edge of its limits in the race to reach the children in time. Forty−five minutes. Garesh take Wheeler! It would be close. Cat vowed that if she lost this contest, the Earther would pay as high a price as the children and Fallon. Not that his life was worth as much, but he'd lose it in slow and painful increments. Twenty−seven long minutes later, the Peacemaker flew close enough into range of the moon's surface. Cat performed a northern hemisphere flyover, scanning for life signs. Nothing. Bloody hell! She'd shred Wheeler centimeter by bloody centimeter if she could get her hands on him! Eighteen minutes. Nerves strung so tightly her entire body hummed, she began to skim the southern half of the moon. Still nothing. Nine and a half minutes. Damndamndamn. Damn! Wait, a blip on the screen! Three blips! Two of them very small, very precious, and very Bellon. The third decidedly Earther. She took her first full Chapter 22

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breath in over an hour. The geoscan informed her she'd have to land farther away from their location than she'd hoped, but not so far as to be impossible. Cat took the steepest, fastest vector in that her ship could survive. She fought murderous wind sheer all the way down through the moon's miserable atmosphere, and still blessed the Creator for this chance. Six minutes. She had to cast out mooring beams to hold the fighter to the moon's surface in the gale−force winds. The Peacemaker's onboard scanners told her nothing alive big enough to worry about stood between her and the flimsy−looking habitat enclosure sheltering the children from the noxious environment. Cat grabbed the medikit and spare breathers, jammed everything she could into the utility pockets of her flight suit. She secured her firearm at her hip, hoping like the Underworld she wouldn't need it. She took a couple of deep breaths, positioned her own breather tube under her nostrils, finally opened the hatch of the ship. Four minutes. Foul−smelling air struck her like a fist pushed along by the brute force of the shrieking grit−infested winds. She left the gangway down once she reached the ground, stopping Chapter 22

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only long enough to seal the hatch against the hostile atmosphere. Cat faced into the blasting squall, fought its insistent exertion to push her off her feet. Her intended mad dash transmuted into a torturously slow and awkward struggle. Every time she thought she had her balance, the wind changed direction, threatened to spin her around. The rough, deeply pitted surface of the moon only made matters worse. When she wasn't battling to stay upright against the howling tempest, she slipped and stumbled over loose rocks and slithering stones. She went down twice, the second time twisting her traitorous knee. She stayed in the dirt only long enough for the worst of the excruciating pain to pass. Cat took the quick opportunity to make certain the Peacemaker remain shrouded. Creator guide her back to it when the time came. Two minutes. After what seemed a lifetime, she reached the habitat. Cat jerked at the stubborn entrance seal that refused to open. One minute! Cursing the defective closure, she grabbed her stiletto to force it open, finally getting the edges to part so she could stagger inside. She blinked several times to clear the grit from Chapter 22

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her eyes and adjust her vision to the dim interior. Bioscanner out, she advanced through the stale, oxygen−deprived plazfab structure. Where were they? Sweet Creator, please no false leads! Out of time! There! Against the far wall! Cat sprinted across the rough footing. Fallon had positioned the children as close as possible to the failing oxygen supply. All three seemed to be unconscious. She adjusted breathing tubes for the children, did another quick scan, choking back unfamiliar sobs. Aye, they were low on oxygen, but their condition seemed to be the result of a tranq of some kind, probably put out as part of the oxygen store. Instinct sent Cat whirling, breath locked in her chest. She threw herself over the children. Heart in her throat, she targeted the habitat entrance with her sidearm. "Wulfe!" "Want to put that down?" He didn't move anything but his face muscles. Cat lowered the weapon, but she stared so long he knelt at her side before she budged another centimeter. Wulfe hugged Cat to his chest with savage joy. "When I saw the Peacemaker destroyed−−my heart simply would not believe what my own eyes had seen!" He released Chapter 22

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her, cupped the head of each child. "Morgan and Garrett?" "They've been drugged, but at least with something benign." "Bastard has a propensity for drugs, doesn't he?" Cat's head jerked up from where she'd been working over Fallon's breathing tube. Her gaze flew to his face. "You know all of it?" "Aye." He grinned briefly, thinking of his chief medical officer. "Although Albright had to threaten to dance naked around the captain's chair before I agreed to listen to her." She smiled tiredly, looking at the bioscan of Fallon. "Why am I not surprised?" Cat sobered. "The Mallochons took out Lyon." "Aye, cherished one. We will grieve for him together." She couldn't face that yet. "I saw the Orion go. Did Wheeler make it?" "One of the first to launch a pod." The words tasted bitter. "And the first to offer to take over as exec upon your, uh, demise." "Over my dead−−allow me to rephrase that!" Cat picked up Garrett, cuddled him close, hummed a few sweet notes. Peace filled Wulfe. He scooped Morgan into his arms, swayed in time to the Bellon lullaby. He hated to shatter the perfection of the moment but reality intruded mercilessly. Chapter 22

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"We might not have much time. The last Mallochon ship got off a distress call." Cat sighed, reached a hand out to brush her fingers to his temple. "To be as one with you again, my husband..." Wulfe kissed the inside of her tender wrist, inhaled her spicy scent. "I haven't the words, either." "I would have had difficulty getting all three of them back to the Peacemaker by myself. Which reminds me; is it just you, or did you bring the entire fleet?" "Just me? Sweet but short welcome, wife. Am I not enough?" "More than, but I can't have you getting too comfortable." "I suppose−−" The ground beneath them shook with the sound of booming thunder. Brilliant light exploded outside the habitat, throwing short−lived bizarre shadows onto the walls. Wulfe's comm link vibrated against his neck. "Kincade." 'We are under attack, Captain. The Mallochon reinforcements have arrived. Orders?' "Get us the narg out of here!" 'The translocator is off−line, Sir. They crippled one of our power grids with their Chapter 22

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combined power.' Wulfe cursed viciously. "Defend yourselves the best you can. If you can manage some sort of cover for us to make it to the Peacemaker, I think we'd appreciate it!" Another booming plasma burst tore the shelter from its moorings, pelted them with superheated rocks and melted stones returning to the moon's surface. Cat curled herself around Garrett to protect him. Wulfe wrapped his body around them and Morgan, determined to keep them safe. Beneath the cacophony, he found a small center of peace only his ma'ten could provide. Cat's mind touched his, soothing, reassuring, a final loving gesture reaffirming her devotion. The moon's surface beneath them−−dirt, stones, rocks−−shifted, shrieked and gave way, sucking them downward with deep bone−grinding wails. The sounds of hunger pangs from the Underworld. Wulfe held tight to all he cherished as Garesh claimed a hearty meal.

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Chapter 23 WULFE JERKED awake. His mind snapped from blank nothingness to instant alertness in less time than it took his heart to pound once. He rolled from the sleeper, grabbed his sidearm from its wall harness and hunkered down next to the bed in one fluid movement. Balanced on the balls of his feet, he inspected his surroundings with every available sense. Silence. No, not entirely. The subliminal thrum of a working ship moved through him. The Falchion. Wulfe frowned into the dim lighting of his sleeping chamber; a sanctuary that should instill peace, but at this moment only sent a feeling of uneasy deja vu chasing through him even though nothing moved in the shadow. The air currents shifted minutely, brought the warm scent of...a child. His son. He padded barefoot to the cradle. With every step, the intensifying impression of deja vu made his skin ripple. The babe stirred, made tiny sounds of discomfort but didn't cry out. Wulfe picked up a small blanket from the end of the cradle, intending to cover the boy. The Chapter 23

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movement of the fabric wafted a new blend of scents to him. The clean sweet smell of the babe, but so much more. Cat's perfume. On its own, earthy and overtly erotic, but blended with the babe's, it became gentle, nurturing, motherly pure. She'd held the babe and his blanket recently. Something in Wulfe relaxed, muscles unknotted. Garrett quieted when the cloud of soft material and his mother's scent settled over and around him. Wulfe straightened to his full height, only then realizing every bone and muscle in his body ached with brutal intensity. Now, why−−? Behind him, door panels slipped open. Wulfe turned. Freesia−perfumed steam billowed outward from the head. "Do you feel rested?" The throaty, sexy voice floated on the cloud. A honey−bronzed slender body emerged from the steam, carrying the sensual body perfume of Earther cinnamon and smoky Bellon sandalwood. "A hot shower will ease the aches." Cat pressed her still−damp naked body to his sleep−warmed form. "And then I have a vial of Erosian healing oil to rub in all over your magnificent body later, my Lord." "Why not now?" "Not enough time for what I have in mind." Chapter 23

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Wulfe slipped his arms under the heavy fall of her wildly curling mahogany hair, wrapped them around her, loving the satiny texture of her skin. And feeling ridiculously relieved for some reason. "What happened?" "How much do you remember?" Cat's warm breath fanned across his breastbone, made his nipples−−and other parts of him−−harden. He moved his head from side to side, tried to shake his thoughts into some sort of order. His guts clenched with sudden memory. "The Mallochons destroying the Peacemaker." "Nothing after that? As you can feel, I'm still here. Recall anything about Pyrus's third moon?" "The mining facility? No, I−−" The memories, dark and alarming, rolled in like the murderous sandstorms over the Sacred Desert. "Swallowed alive by that nargging moon!" "Ah, it's all come back to you, then." "In detail, except for how we survived." He turned full circle, moving Cat with him as he surveyed their sleeping chamber. "Morgan?" "With Fallon in their rooms." "Is that wise?" Cat wriggled next to him, as if attempting to get closer. Impossible, unless they joined as Chapter 23

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a man and his mate were intended to. "You should know that Wheeler convinced Fallon he was protecting them. He told her it was a plan, approved by us, to keep her and the children safe from the Mallochons." Wulfe sighed, momentarily content. "And how did we end up here rather than a permanent guest of Garesh?" Cat leaned back, her slight weight supported by the circle of his arms. When she looked up at him, her smile practically made his heart overflow. "Oh, we had help, love. Seems Cass and Hawke had been ghosting the Falchion for some time. They stepped in and revealed themselves when we needed them. Transported all five of us off the moon before the Mallochons knew what was happening." "They're both alive?" A little grain of doubt remained in his mind, as though waiting to ambush him, but he allowed the relief and gladness to chase away much of the lingering gloom. "As you or I." Cat moved her hands from his hips, slid them downward, spread strong slender fingers across his buttocks, kneading sore muscles. "Mother and M'Lissa are with them." "What?" More of the grieving unhappiness fled. Only the sorrow of Lyon's loss hovered Chapter 23

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over them. "Cass transported Mother and M'Lissa off Nutralis when all Underworld broke out there. She and Hawke didn't want to give away their advantage−−two non−Mallochon ships capable of shrouding." Pieces of the last few horrendous days began to fit together. "So the report about their ships being destroyed? A cover to explain why they dropped out of sight!" "Exactly." "What's the status in regard to the Mallochon ships that were attacking?" "One was disabled and they chose to destroy their vessel with all hands aboard. Two shrouded and left the area." Cat's knowing fingers found and caressed an interesting and highly erogenous area. Wulfe sucked in his breath, his manhood pointed shamelessly at her midsection. "I rejoice at all this wondrous news." His voice sounded tight with desire even to his own ears. He slowly maneuvered her toward the sleeper, exploring some interesting parts of her anatomy. "So much so that I feel a definite need to celebrate. Immediately." She groaned with what could only be genuine regret. Her personal scent had deepened, gone richer with her own desire. "We have less than thirty minutes for you to shower and Chapter 23

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dress for a senior staff meeting. Before that, we must meet with Cass, Hawke and Mother." Wulfe growled in frustration. "Who's the genius who came up with that timetable?" "Um, I'd be the mastermind in question. But you did sleep longer than I thought you would." She gave him a playful slap on his bare rump. "You also have a ship full of crew members eager to see you." "I don't care! All I want right now is you!" Cat ran her tongue up the center of his chest, a low purr coming from the back of her throat. "I promise you, the feeling is mutual, but knowing Nora Albright the way I do, she'll blast her way through our door and drag us out if we're late." "Aye, and your mother would be right beside her." Wulfe released Cat and moved toward the head. He paused in the doorway and looked back at her, his body saluting her. "We will celebrate later, cherished one." She returned his look, her amber eyes still smoky with her own desire. "Aye, my Lord, be assured of that." Cat resisted Wulfe's continued attempts to lure her to the shower. Only the urge to hold and cuddle Garrett kept her from her husband's arms. Curled up on the huge sleeper she shared with her husband, she held her son until he fell Chapter 23

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asleep. As she eased to her feet, something hard and about the size of a halva fruit caught her attention. Cat fished the object out from under a corner of one of the pillows. The wulfenite from her journal. So. This was where Morgan decided the crystal belonged. Cat grinned. Brilliant child. Minutes later, after she returned Garrett to his cradle, she watched Wulfe pull on his uniform, jealous of the way the material snugged to his brawny form. He returned the compliment, watched her dress, following every movement she made, making love to her with his dark eyes. A greedy form of self−inflicted erotic torture they ended by visiting Morgan in her room. Reassured by the visit from her father and Oath Mother, Morgan seemed content enough to remain behind with Fallon. Despite it all, thirty−five minutes later Cat led the way out of their quarters and stepped into the corridor. A flush of warmth made her skin tingle when Wulfe encompassed her hand with his. Albright pulled to a quick stop in front of them, a surprised look on her face. "I was just on my way to get you two." Wulfe wore a look of good−natured resignation. "You did warn me, wife." Cat patted Albright's arm, burying the impulse to stick her tongue out at Wulfe. "We Chapter 23

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spent a few extra minutes with the children." "Oh." Unusually subdued for Albright, the doctor shrugged. "Not to worry." Cat sent a quick look at Wulfe before frowning at Albright. "Are you unwell, Nora?" "Couldn't be better. Come on. Your blood family is waiting for you in the conference lounge." Wulfe motioned down the corridor and started walking. "Doctor, come with us and answer a few questions for me." "Sure. What do want to know?" "Let's start with Wheeler." "Sorry, Captain. I should have realized you'd want to know that. He's still in the brig and under medical supervision. Erich is clean of Endorphidrine as he claimed, but his system has been flooded with a similar drug of Mallochon extraction he found on the black market. The alien chemical compounds seriously affected his brain functions." "He'll recover?" "I'm not certain he'll ever be the Erich we all knew." Cat couldn't decide how she should feel about Albright's words. Pity came to mind, and to her own guilty distress, a feeling of satisfied relief. "Will he ever be able to face charges Chapter 23

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for what he did?" "It's too early to tell. I can't find anyone with a broad understanding of Mallochon compounds. I am making arrangements to have him transferred to a secure medical facility." "Good." A fierce scowl marred Wulfe's face. "If you hadn't found indications of something other than his own sick mind affecting him, I would not hesitate to destroy Wheeler for what he did." Albright's lips thinned to grim lines, as though she weighed her words before she spoke. "This might sound strange, but it's a good thing for Wheeler the Mallochons attacked when they did. It kept the Bellons aboard occupied. I thought for sure they'd come after Wheeler and tear him apart once word leaked out about what he did to Fallon and the children." "Bellons don't take betrayal lightly, Doctor." "I know, Captain, but do you people ever do anything in a mild form?" Wulfe stopped just short of the doors to the conference room. Cat slipped her hand from Wulfe's and wrapped her arm as far around his waist as she could. In return, he held her as close to his side as possible. She arched an eyebrow at Albright. "No. Whether it's love or fighting or friendship, we do nothing weakly. Honor Chapter 23

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does not tolerate half measures." "You can say that again. And I'm glad." Albright leaned against the corridor bulkhead. "I'll wait here for you." Even knowing who awaited them on the other side of the doors, Cat's first glimpse of her mother and sister left her breathless. Cass and Dove circled their arms around Cat while she hugged both of them. All three spoke at once. Cat caught sight of her husband and Hawke welcoming each other−−a simple arm clasp that said as much as the females' entwined limbs. The men turned, eyed the females, shook their heads in amused acceptance. With their family ties now so closely bound, what choice did they have? Dove stood between Cat and Cass, an arm around each daughter. Cat enjoyed seeing the glow on her mother's face again. Dove had come through the attack on Nutralis unscathed; the girl−child she carried continued to thrive. "Sons and Daughters, I must return to my quarters to finish the presentation for the Nutralis Peace Committee tomorrow. Know that I cherish each and every one of you." She released Cat and Cass. When she reached the exit, Dove turned and flashed an amused glance in their direction. "Computer, lower lights to ten percent." Chapter 23

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The four turned toward the observation port and burst out laughing at their reflections. Two red−haired women, leaning back against two dark−haired titan−like Bellon warriors. "Talk about seeing double," Cat managed. Cass nodded in agreement. "If Hawke and I wore Corps uniforms, too, we could confuse the Mallochons into peace." "What do you and your mate plan for the near future?" Hawke continued to look out at the stars. "Cass and I have discussed that very thing, Sister. We have a suggestion, if you two are interested." "Continue." Wulfe's response rumbled against Cat's backbone in a familiar, pleasing way. "We are listening." "We've decided we dislike being forever on separate ships, so have agreed to redistribute our crews. Cass and I will use the Yataghan as our base of operations. It is, after all, larger that the Maiden. My Lady Cass will act as my first officer and as Seeker for the vessel." "How will your present exec react to that?" Wulfe, ever practical when it came to ship duties, glanced at his brother. "Redfeather will captain the Moon Maiden with Baylock as her exec." "It might as well be done that way from the start. Baylock and Nona Redfeather are like Chapter 23

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this." Cass brought her hands up and clasped them together, interlocking the fingers. Cat gave her sister's husband a teasing glance. "I can't help but wonder how the arrangement would have worked had the Moon Maiden been the larger of the two ships." "I, uh, I would have considered it an honor to serve as my mate's exec." "To be sure." Cat lowered her eyes only after glimpsing the mischief in Cass's. Cass came to her husband's rescue. "Misha, the Seeker on the Maiden, will stay with them. And now that the Falchion has M'Lissa, well, I'd say we have an unbeatable triad." "We need to keep back the Mallochon flood, no matter the cost." "Even if it means becoming as ruthless and merciless as them?" Hawke turned his head to look directly at his brother. "Creator willing, it won't come to that. Perhaps we will find allies along the way." "Now if only we could find more long−range Seekers." Cass shook her head. "Unfortunately, they are not abundant." Cat cocked her head, thinking. "They say the Vanished Ones possessed many unique mental talents." "The Vanished Ones?" Wulfe placed a quick kiss to the crown of her head. "A myth." "Really? The Bellons were a myth on Earth not so many generations ago, my Lord. Chapter 23

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Maybe the Vanished are out there somewhere waiting to be found." "If they are, I hope they're waiting to say a friendly hello rather than biding time to join with the other side." Cat thought about Wulfe's comments for a moment. "Somehow, I believe they'd be part of our team." "Ever the optimist, aren't you, cherished one?" "Yes. Which reminds me, I have it on good authority that if the new source for plunarium is legitimate, the Falchion will be the first Space Corps ship outfitted for a shrouding device. We'd be a bloody menace! The ghosting triad." Wulfe leaned over to place a quick kiss on Cat's temple. "Under normal circumstances, the Corps might disapprove of two civilian ships working in tandem with a Corps vessel, but considering the extent of the Mallochon threat, I believe Command will come around." "Especially if it means fewer losses like the ones we've suffered." Cat choked on the last word. Accepting Lyon's death at the hands of the Mallochons was hard enough. Acknowledging that he'd died to help her and her family only made the grief taste more bitter. Wulfe's arms tightened around her. "He died as a warrior, with honor, dignity and valor. Chapter 23

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No Bellon could ask for more." "I know, love. Mykal Lyon will be honored in our Houses for the rest of our days." "If the Creator blesses us with another son, we will name him in Mykal's honor." Wulfe still held her close, the warmth from his body easing the ache in her heart a bit. Hawke tugged at Cass's waist. "Come, my Lady, we should return to our ship and finalize crew transfers so we're ready to head back to the Nutralis system with the Falchion." Cass nodded and followed her mate from the room. After the doors closed behind them, Cat turned to face Wulfe, put her arms around him in return. Being close to her husband−−one of the most treasured sensations in the universe. "Remember, cherished one. The Creator has blessed Mykal Lyon, sent him through the Gates of Glory." "Aye, my Lord, I know." She leaned into Wulfe, waiting for the touch of his mouth. "Oops!" Albright stood in the doorway of the conference room. "If you don't hurry, the entire crew will revolt. Let's move!" "Slavedriver!" Chapter 23

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"With a contemptible sense of timing," Wulfe added. "I thought the senior staff briefing would be held here, as it usually is." Albright shook her head. "We can't start the briefing immediately." Wulfe's hand tightened almost imperceptibly around Cat's. "Why not?" "Every member of your crew, and I mean every, is clamoring to see you, Captain. See both of you, actually. Riordan and I have assembled all nonessential crew on the flight deck. Blackwood is keeping the Bellon faction of our crew in line down there−−and doing a fine job of it. Says she learned everything she knows from the two of you." "Thought of almost everything, haven't you, Doctor?" "No, Sir, I've thought of it all. Crew required to remain at their posts will have a direct visual and audio link. You and Catherine can address the troops from the observation level." "Address the troops? Sounds a bit formal for me, Doctor." Cat sensed Wulfe's hesitation and understood because it mirrored her own so closely. She yearned to return to her family, hold the children, rejoice over her mother's pregnancy, celebrate Cass and Hawke's miraculous return to life. And they all needed time to grieve for those who had been lost. But the crew was family, too, and friend. "This will only take Chapter 23

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a few minutes, Wulfe, and the crew deserves the time." He looked down at her, the brown of his eyes going soft and warm. "Aye, they do." "Let's go then." Albright led the way to the nearest lift. She rode down to the lower levels with them, walked the final steps to the observation deck beside them. At the last moment, she hung back, her hands flung out in a gesture that clearly said they were on their own, but her blue eyes glinted with good humor. Wulfe squared his shoulders, tugged his uniform into place. Just before he stepped forward so the panels would slide open, he smoothed Cat's hair back from her face and smiled at her−−at his insistence, she'd worn it loose, curling down to her knees, exactly the way he like it. "We go together, ma'ten, as it always should be." She sucked in a deep breath, braced herself for the sight awaiting them. Hundreds of people, faces upturned, would look upon them for leadership in the war that was sure to follow the events of these last days. The panels parted and she stepped forward with her captain, her husband. As they moved to the railing, someone−−it could only be Ellery−−began to play the captain's pipe, calling the assembly to attention. The notes died away to be followed by a thunderous round of applause, whoops and hollers that threatened to shake the biranium struts from the ship's Chapter 23

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bulkheads. Hours later, Cat finally found herself alone with her husband in their quarters. The wounded had been tended, repairs were underway, and life began to take on a sense of normalcy again. "All in all, a good day's work, ma'ten." Wulfe pulled her onto his lap, fitting their bodies together, bare skin to bare skin. He ran a finger under the finely−worked chains around her waist, draping each thigh. "I have one task yet before me." Cat sighed as though too weary to consider more work. "Can't it wait until the next watch?" "No, absolutely not." Cat reached beneath a bed pillow, pulled out her husband's neck chain. "My work is not done until this has been replaced." Laughter rumbled up from deep in Wulfe's chest. "Then by all means finish your duty." Cat clasped the gold links around his neck. "I love you." "And I cherish you." He kissed her, slow and sweet and deep. "Nothing will ever part us again." "Nothing. Not ever." "Ssh," he whispered, laying his forefinger against her lips. "Did you hear that sound?" Chapter 23

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"What sound?" Her muscles tightened in alarm as she strained to hear any unexplained noise. "What is it?" "I'm not sure, but I think it was the sound of the Underworld freezing over." "Huh?" "Well, you did just agree with me." He dodged her mock blow to the side of his head. "Or perhaps it was the click of two people fitting together perfectly." "Ah, now that I like." Her voice faded to a husky whisper. Cat swallowed. When he grinned at her like that, the skin crinkling around his eyes.... His mouth moved toward hers. Slow. Tantalizing. "I..." "You what?" Wulfe's warm breath caressed her lips, her cheek. She utterly lost the power of coherent thought as his full sensual lips skimmed over hers. His dark brown eyes, warmed to the melting point, her melting point, beckoned to her, heart and soul. She answered that summons with every dram of her being, closing that last gap of millimeters, claimed her husband's mouth when he lifted her to him. They slid together, two halves of a whole, a perfect fit despite the size difference. Their bodies, all the hills and valleys meshed. More importantly, their hearts joined to beat as Chapter 23

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one. Souls merged to know a brightness greater than any ever realized alone. Cat's mind touched Wulfe's. "We are home, my Lord." "Aye, cherished one. Home together."

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