moon. Targon's close proximity to some of the most vital charted jumpsites made it a strategically well-placed headquarter, the absence of civilian targets made it an easily maintained one.
Like many Air Command bases, it was drab and utilitarian but it also offered an academy and flight school where personnel attended lectures and upgraded their skills. Many also came to enjoy a play or perhaps a new artist or to meet friends stationed in other parts of Trans-Targon.
Nova had visited here once or twice before but never for long. It had always seemed to her like the most exciting place in the entire sector. She hoped to be stationed here some day. Today, however, she wanted only to see and be seen by the doctors of the base's well-equipped hospital. It had taken three days to make the journey from Aikhor to Targon through two jumpsites and endless hours travel between the gates.
The additional oxygen had returned some strength and energy to her and, although the debilitating fatigue remained, she was awake enough to join Seth at the helm or laze about the cabin while the autopilot did its job. They spent the time talking of nothing that lay ahead and certainly nothing that lay behind them, carefully skirting the issue of rebels and his part in her misfortunes. She was reminded again of the time they had spent just like this, when he would share with her his thoughts about the worlds and their inhabitants that held endless fascination for him. Information that was, to her, just figures and facts on a page came alive for him through stories and histories and what appeared to be real people and not just names on a screen.
Of course, back then they would spend these hours between long bouts of lovemaking, sprawled entwined in some hideaway until it was time to get back into uniform and into their planes. Now she did not dare to touch him even accidentally - his presence across the cabin was beginning to chafe her in ways both pleasant and entirely unwelcome.
"You better clear us," Seth said as they approached UCB Targon. "I don't think they'll let me land."
"Should security be anything but tight here?" she replied. "They know this ship, I'm sure. By now it'll be identified and traced to you. These boats are rare, especially privately owned ones. You better come up with a few explanations."
Seth nodded, looking at ease with the situation. She wondered if anything ever really worried him.
She contacted the base to request permission to land. Understandably, Targon's reply was delayed while somebody checked with someone to get permission from somebody else. She knew that the matter of clearance would be shuffled about until someone or somebody kicked it upstairs to the base commander.
Eventually, she was given landing instructions. Nova was surprised to hear that they were to move the Dutchman directly into the underground hangars instead of the public aboveground airfield.
"You want to shackle my hands and feet or something?" Seth said when they prepared to drop the cargo bay gate.
She looked up at him, suddenly unsure. Now that they were here, she no longer wanted to see him arrested, perhaps hurt, surely incarcerated for some time if her charges against him could be proven. "Seth..." she began.
He looked amused. "Don't worry, Red. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."
Before she could reply the door fell open and they were surrounded by a cluster of white-clad base personnel. They pushed their way into the cramped cargo area and Nova was manhandled onto a stretcher.
"Hey! It's only–"
"Please allow us, Lieutenant," one of the medics whispered. "By order of Colonel Carras." He leaned forward to let her see the identification tab on his collar beneath the hospital garb.
Nova dropped onto the stretcher and allowed herself to be covered up to her chin. She closed her eyes and was whisked out of the hangar and toward the base hospital.
Seth had watched it all with amazement. What was the Colonel up
Like many Air Command bases, it was drab and utilitarian but it also offered an academy and flight school where personnel attended lectures and upgraded their skills. Many also came to enjoy a play or perhaps a new artist or to meet friends stationed in other parts of Trans-Targon.
Nova had visited here once or twice before but never for long. It had always seemed to her like the most exciting place in the entire sector. She hoped to be stationed here some day. Today, however, she wanted only to see and be seen by the doctors of the base's well-equipped hospital. It had taken three days to make the journey from Aikhor to Targon through two jumpsites and endless hours travel between the gates.
The additional oxygen had returned some strength and energy to her and, although the debilitating fatigue remained, she was awake enough to join Seth at the helm or laze about the cabin while the autopilot did its job. They spent the time talking of nothing that lay ahead and certainly nothing that lay behind them, carefully skirting the issue of rebels and his part in her misfortunes. She was reminded again of the time they had spent just like this, when he would share with her his thoughts about the worlds and their inhabitants that held endless fascination for him. Information that was, to her, just figures and facts on a page came alive for him through stories and histories and what appeared to be real people and not just names on a screen.
Of course, back then they would spend these hours between long bouts of lovemaking, sprawled entwined in some hideaway until it was time to get back into uniform and into their planes. Now she did not dare to touch him even accidentally - his presence across the cabin was beginning to chafe her in ways both pleasant and entirely unwelcome.
"You better clear us," Seth said as they approached UCB Targon. "I don't think they'll let me land."
"Should security be anything but tight here?" she replied. "They know this ship, I'm sure. By now it'll be identified and traced to you. These boats are rare, especially privately owned ones. You better come up with a few explanations."
Seth nodded, looking at ease with the situation. She wondered if anything ever really worried him.
She contacted the base to request permission to land. Understandably, Targon's reply was delayed while somebody checked with someone to get permission from somebody else. She knew that the matter of clearance would be shuffled about until someone or somebody kicked it upstairs to the base commander.
Eventually, she was given landing instructions. Nova was surprised to hear that they were to move the Dutchman directly into the underground hangars instead of the public aboveground airfield.
"You want to shackle my hands and feet or something?" Seth said when they prepared to drop the cargo bay gate.
She looked up at him, suddenly unsure. Now that they were here, she no longer wanted to see him arrested, perhaps hurt, surely incarcerated for some time if her charges against him could be proven. "Seth..." she began.
He looked amused. "Don't worry, Red. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be."
Before she could reply the door fell open and they were surrounded by a cluster of white-clad base personnel. They pushed their way into the cramped cargo area and Nova was manhandled onto a stretcher.
"Hey! It's only–"
"Please allow us, Lieutenant," one of the medics whispered. "By order of Colonel Carras." He leaned forward to let her see the identification tab on his collar beneath the hospital garb.
Nova dropped onto the stretcher and allowed herself to be covered up to her chin. She closed her eyes and was whisked out of the hangar and toward the base hospital.
Seth had watched it all with amazement. What was the Colonel up
Similar Books
