On Board H.M.S. Yorkshire,
In the Gilead Sector
There had been three more krait attacks. The crew of the Yorkshire had fought them off, but at a price paid in blood. The last of the Savak corpses had been jettisoned into space. In the midst of one of the attacks, the destroyer Rutland had lost way and staggered off on a Long Walk, leaving behind a dozen escape pods. By the time they had realized Rutland was missing, she was nowhere in sight. The Kent was still there, twenty miles off the port bow, but it had suffered as well.
Grant Skiffington sat on his bunk, drinking from a bottle of brandy he took from one of the Marines. His face was bloodstained, his clothing torn and dirty. He was now the only functioning officer on the Yorkshire. Commander Peled was in the sick bay, where the ship’s medic had put him into a medically induced coma until they could reach a hospital and remove the pellet lodged in his skull.
They had probed the entire area around them with active sensors and were as sure as they could be that there were no more Tilleke transporter craft near them. Now it was time to mend their wounds and make the perilous journey home to Victoria.
But first Grant intended to get drunk.
He was just taking another swig when his door opened and Cookie came in. She was dressed in filthy fatigue pants and a torn T-shirt that clung to her body. She was sweat-stained and dirty and there was a red splotch of blood on her neck. She looked earthy and sensual in a way Grant couldn’t define, but felt deep in his groin.
Without speaking, she crossed the little room and straddled him, sitting across the tops of his thighs and facing him. Her face was inches from his, her beasts softly pressed against his chest. Without conscious thought, he dropped the bottle and reached up to caress her.
She gave him a stiff fingered jab in the stomach.
“Oomph,” he gasped.
“I’m not here for that,” she said coolly. She grasped his chin in a hard grip. “Don’t move your face, got it? This will hurt a little, but don’t move.”
She took a needle and a small jar of something, dipped the needle into it, then carefully poked the needle into his face, just below his left eye. He winced.
“Don’t be a baby,” she said. That was when he noticed the red tattoo of a teardrop on Cookie’s face. A Blood Tear.
“Badge of honor,” he said.
She snorted without humor. “Badge of a cluster fuck, is what it is. The Almighty bring us through this, She surely got somethin’ She want us to do. Now shut up, I’m a little drunk and if you move, I’m gonna stick you in the eye with this needle.”
It took a while, but when she was done, she dabbed the blood from his face and looked critically at the tattoo. “You look in the mirror and see that, for the rest of your sorry life, you remember the people who died fighting with you on this ship.”
Grant leaned back against the bulkhead. Cookie, still straddling him, looked hard at him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out in a long shuddering sigh. She reached over her shoulder and pulled off her T-shirt, unfastened her bra and then leaned forward and kissed him fervently. Grant began to touch her, nuzzle her and bent forward to kiss her breasts, but Cookie suddenly pulled him up painfully by his ears.
“Ouch! Cookie, what-”
“One thing,” she said fiercely. “I’m doin’ this because I need it, I need it or I’m gonna start crying and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. But you never, never tell Hiram about this, understand?”
Grant understood.
They had been through five krait attacks in two days. The Savak were the stuff of nightmares. They just kept coming at you without mercy or fear until you put them down like you would a rabid animal. So many people had died right in front of him, screaming in pain and anguish and fear and utter frustration that they could not kill the Savak butchers before they died themselves. And now his mind yearned for release, for comfort, for a few blessed moments of respite before it all started over again.
Grant understood.
He nodded and touched her face. She sighed again, then took his hand and guided it to her breast. She closed her eyes. “Okay then,” she whispered. She drew him to her. “Okay then.”