Page 169 of Pets in Space 10
Nickolas accessed his slate, holding it so all three could see.
An alert flashed—Bran was on his way. Lochan gave the signal and sprinted toward the gate to the sound of fireburst. He had no doubt that Nickolas and the sergeant had taken their targets in the towers.
A single shot from the fireburst pistol through the gap between the gate and frame cut through the bar.
Grabbing the edge, Lochan started to drag it open as the rumble of flyers filled the air. The two scarlet flyers dropped from the sky, canon fireburst searing the bluff. Leaving the gate open enough to pass through, Lochan entered the encampment, Nickolas and the sergeant on his heels.
To the north, several modules had been configured for a comfortable shelter.
A broad-shouldered man with bushy hair and a scarred face emerged, brandishing a rifle.
Fireburst dissolved his chest as the Nightingale sergeant found his mark.
Lochan was halfway up a tower when the despoiler sergeant’s body hit the ground.
More armed figures emerged from the shelter as the flyers once more fired at the edge of the compound. From the tower, Lochan picked an armed figure at random and fired. From the other tower, Nickolas called, “Drop your weapons or die!”
Five rifles hit the ground.
Keeping his rifle at the ready, Lochan ordered, “Kiss the ground. Despoiler or colonist, I care not. Move and you will die.”
***
Carrying Rogue, Adele followed the young militia woman through the Nightingale.
The pilot had confirmed that Lynx and the rest of the SkyHigh team knew Adele was safe.
So far, no one could tell her if Lochan had succeeded in capturing the despoiler encampment.
She did not doubt Lochan’s ability, but she could not be easy until she knew he was safe.
Even the Nightingale’s marvels could not completely distract her, including a flyer bay that was three times the size of a spear’s.
She knew there were living quarters for over a hundred crew members.
When they reached the medic’s section, she was not surprised to find it equipped to rival the finest medical enclaves on Fortuna.
Adele doubted there was anything amiss with her that a decent meal and eight bells of sleep would not cure, but she knew better than to argue with the captain’s orders.
A militia guard was stationed at a door that opened for a medic emerging with a ragged bundle. Inside the chamber, she caught sight of Lace hovering anxiously by a bed where another medic was examining Samson.
She asked the militia woman, “My friends . . . Do you know what will happen to them?”
“They will remain here in the medic’s section until Chief Medic Imogen considers them fit.” She shrugged, “After that, I have no information.”
Another door opened and a handsome olive-skinned woman in her mid-fifties emerged.
Her dark eyes held a serene expression while her lips curved in a gentle smile.
“You must be Mistress Adele. I am Chief Medic Imogen.” Her eyes widened when they fell on Rogue.
“For a moment, I thought that was Blue, but it is not, is it?”
“This is Rogue. I found him by the crevasse. He was hurt.”
“I heard about that.” Imogen’s smile returned. “If you will follow me.”
Somewhat stunned to be receiving the chief medic’s personal attention, Adele followed her into a chamber that matched the one holding Lace and Samson. At the medic’s direction, Adele set Rogue down to explore.
The medic proved to be as efficient as every other member of the Nightingale crew.
Within a quarter period, she confirmed that nothing was amiss with Adele other than a touch of dehydration and lack of sleep.
After making a few notes in her slate, Imogen said, “Captain Raleigh requires you to remain on the Nightingale until Commander Lochan returns and provides a full report. Lochan has invited you to share his quarters, but if you prefer, you may remain in the medic’s section until we can return you to Deuce. ”
“Is there word? Is Lochan well?”
She tapped her slate, eyes scanning the display. “The despoiler camp is secure. No Nightingale casualties.”
Light-headed from relief, Adele was glad she was yet on the bed. “Will he, Lochan that is, return soon?”
Imogen’s lips turned up in amusement. “I have no notion, but can I deduce from your reaction that you would prefer to wait for Lochan in his quarters?”
“Yes but, if possible, could I have a meal first?”
Chuckling, Imogen replied, “We can arrange to have a meal brought to his quarters. Midday meal service is underway.”
Midday? Of course. The Nightingale was stationed over the vistrite seam and set its timekeepers by the surface time.
The medic went over to the console and tapped a few entries. “Here is a menu. Select what you wish, and then the militia will guide you to Lochan’s quarters. Any of the local meat is available raw if you need to feed Rogue.”
She started to exit and then turned back. “You need not carry Rogue; the crew is used to seeing Blue in the corridors.”
Even the Nightingale’s kitchen was superior.
After quickly making her selections, Adele thanked the medic.
She followed the militia woman through more extensive corridors and into a riser that ascended to the officers’ residential level.
Adele expected that the security chief’s quarters would be more elaborate than the spear’s barracks, but once again, the Nightingale exceeded her expectations.
In addition to a chamber with a sizeable bed, there was a small chamber with a sofa, a small respite console, and two chairs.
She tried not to stare too openly, but as soon as the militia woman departed, Adele examined the few personal items Lochan had on display.
A large watercolor covered the wall opposite the window.
Peacock-blue cliffs rose over a midnight-blue sea.
Crowning the cliffs were countless shining spires reaching into a cloudless mint-green sky.
There was no question it was Pinnacle City, the capital of the First System and Matahorn Headquarters.
Moving through the bedchamber, she ran a finger over the elaborate sheath and hilt of an ornamental dagger.
It was old. Several centuries at least and the type worn by warriors at festivals.
Next to it was a bronze statue of a man with a sword in one hand, rifle in the other, his duster unfurled behind him as if blown by the wind.
As with all renderings of Jonathan Metricelli, the features were indistinct.
To date, there were no authenticated visuals of the Fourth Warrior.
Behind one door was a closet with uniforms arranged with military precision. The other door revealed the private freshening closet with no more than a step between fixtures. At that sight, the desire for a shower superseded both hunger and the need to sleep.
She was emptying the pockets of her coveralls when a crewmember arrived, not only with her meal, but a loose tunic and trousers, fresh undergarments, and slippers.
All were in the gray of the Nightingale uniforms, and based on the style, they came from the medic’s dispensary.
Someone even thought of providing food and water bowls for Rogue, along with disposable padding for the little dog’s waste.
Once clean and fed, Adele could no longer resist the fatigue tugging at her. Even knowing where her relationship with Lochan was heading, it felt presumptuous to use his bed. Taking a blanket from the bedchamber, she stretched out on the sofa and let sleep take her.
***
Lochan stood over Adele’s slumbering form and allowed relief to wash through him.
The past two days were among the most harrowing of his life.
Not because the despoilers were vicious adversaries but because of the danger to this woman.
He had no notion as to why she was not sleeping in the bed, but as soon as he cleansed, he would rectify that situation.
Curled next to her, Rogue blinked neon-blue eyes and displayed sharp teeth in a wide yawn.
***
Adele awoke to the awareness that she had moved from the sofa to Lochan’s bed and that his large, hard form was sprawled next to her.
Relaxed in slumber, he appeared younger, his fierce intensity muted.
The broad expanse of his chest with its tight dark nipples fascinated her.
She yearned to explore the surface with her fingers, lips, and tongue.
Swallowing a sigh, she resisted the impulse.
She had no notion when Lochan had arrived or memory of transferring to the bed, but she was certain he needed the rest. The window showed Bright Star Deuce covered in shadow, suggesting they were well into the night.
It had been the first bell after midday when she collapsed on the sofa, and judging from how refreshed she felt, she must have slept seven or eight periods.
She needed to use the freshening closet and to discover Rogue’s location.
With as much stealth as she could muster, she slipped from the bed.
In the sitting chamber, the console revealed it had passed the ninth bell.
On the sofa, the blanket she had borrowed sprouted with two bright blue eyes, soon followed by Rogue’s small white form.
A smile tugged at her lips when she realized Lochan had left the blanket for the little dog’s comfort.
Coming to his feet, the terrier bowed into a deep stretch and then gave a good shake.
Jumping off the sofa, he looked at her expectantly. Checking his water dish, she found it half full and refreshed it. A soiled pad went into the waste disposal and was replaced with a fresh one. Rogue dutifully sniffed the new pad and took a few delicate laps of water before trotting to the door.
“You want to explore?” She shook her head. “I do not blame you, but we should stay with Lochan.”
Lochan’s husky baritone answered. “I like the sound of that.”