Page 42 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
The question caught him off guard. He hadn't thought that far ahead; he had been too focused on confirming what he'd seen.
"I'd take it to Ryke," he said, but the answer sounded hollow even to his own ears.
"Would you?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or would you confront Rann directly?"
He didn't answer immediately. He couldn't. The thought of confronting Rann sent something dark rolling through his veins. His fingers twitched, remembering the satisfying impact of driving the pilot against the galley counter earlier.
"I'd gather evidence first," he said carefully. "Solid, undeniable proof before taking any action."
"And if the evidence suggests Rann poses a danger to the crew?" Jesh pressed, her voice neutral but her eyes sharp. "To Mira?"
Hearing Mira's name sent another pulse of that protective instinct through him.
"Then I'd do whatever is necessary to neutralize the threat." The words came out as a growl.
She held his gaze. "I'll investigate," she said finally. "But don't go after Rann half-cocked. You saw how that worked out this morning."
"I know." Davis exhaled slowly. "That's why I came to you instead of going straight to Ryke with half-formed suspicions. Or taking matters into my own hands."
"A surprising display of restraint," Jesh said, her lips quirking, "given this morning's demonstration."
He winced. "That was different."
"Was it?"
Before he could reply, she carried on.
"I'll analyze the combat footage and infiltrate the Imperial databases. Cross-reference with Jex." She straightened up, clearly considering the conversation concluded.
"Thank you," he said, genuinely grateful.
She headed for the door, then paused and looked over her shoulder with a smile. "Just try not to attack any more of the crew while I work on this."
She left him alone with his thoughts. Crossing to the heavy punching bag suspended in the corner, he drove his fist into it with enough force to send it swinging. The impact jolted up his arm, a satisfying physical sensation that helped ground him.
He delivered another series of blows, each focusing his thoughts. The physical release helped clear his mind, forcing his breathing to steady.
One thing at a time.
First, confirm his suspicions about Rann. Then…
His mind wandered back to Mira. Her scent lingered in the gym where she'd trained, and the memory of her taste was still on his tongue from their encounter in the observation lounge. Heat surged through him at the memory of her beneath him, the small sounds she'd made when he'd touched her, how perfectly she'd responded to his mouth.
Then settle things with Mira. Properly this time.
No interruptions. No unanswered questions. No barriers between them.
9
He paced the maintenance corridor, boot heels tapping a frustrated rhythm against metal grating, and checked his chronometer for the third time. Jesh was late, and the crew meeting would start soon. He needed answers before facing Rann.
He flexed his hands, watching tendons shift beneath his skin. Last night in the observation lounge flashed through his mind. The memory of Mira beneath him, her soft gasps as his fingers and mouth... He shook his head. Not now. That particular memory wasn't helping his focus or his physical state.
Five minutes until the crew briefing. Time was running out.
His head snapped up at the approaching footsteps. They were too measured for most of the crew and too steady for Mira's quicker stride. Jesh.
She rounded the corner with the precise grace of cybernetic enhancement, nodding as she saw him.
