Steel-Winged Valkyrie (Lady Hellgate Book 5) Read online

  Quentin was hard to catch up with since he trained so much, and Sun So-Jung, their resident Jumper, had taken a shuttle to Virulia and hadn’t returned, leaving her to worry that she would never see him again. The thought of him being gone without a proper goodbye weighed heavily on her conscience. Cilas was supposed to be her man, and Joy was her sister, but Sun So-Jung, who they called Sunny, had become much like a mentor to her.

  Being miserable, Helga had counted down the cycles until the Nighthawks could return to the Ursula. Rough night, but this was it, the day when the old girl would be finished with all her upgrades and refitting. Helga glanced over at a glowing hologram hovering above the bowl-shaped entertainment device she had purchased a cycle before. It rotated past a few previews of upcoming shows and a series of news feeds from Alliance central before finally displaying the time.

  It was thirty minutes into the first shift, so Helga sprung up, showered, and dressed as fast as she could before donning a skintight 3B-XO suit and pulling on some coveralls. On the way out of her compartment, she grabbed a ration bar and scarfed it down as she ran the length of the passageway towards the hangar.

  “Helga,” she heard Cilas call, and felt a mixture of surprise and annoyance at him disturbing her rush to see the new vessel. She stopped and collected herself: as an officer being hailed by a superior, not a taken-for-granted girlfriend. Turning to regard him slowly, she placed both hands in the small of her back, and held her chin high like that of a cadet. All of this she did methodically, knowing how much it would annoy him. When she finally faced him, however, her jaw grew slack when she saw that he wasn’t alone.

  “Captain Sho,” Helga croaked before snapping to attention and slamming her fist against her chest. “Commander,” she drawled, letting the title out slowly to let Cilas know she didn’t appreciate the ambush, but regretted it immediately when Retzo Sho gave her a knowing look.

  “Off to see the Ursula, Lieutenant Ate?” the captain said, which amused her, since as a former pilot and owner of the corvette, he would have been just as excited to see Ursula as she was. It was no secret that the Nighthawks were one of Retzo Sho’s obsessions, and he was grooming Cilas personally to take command of the vessel.

  Helga felt herself smiling, and pursed her lips to hide it, pretending to reach up and shift a stray lock from her brow. “Yes sir,” she said quickly. “My curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to get a quick look at her.”

  “Seems we are of the same mind,” Retzo admitted. “It’s not very often we get to remodel and redesign a vessel on our own. This is a monumental occasion. A chance to show those Genesian master builders that we can hold our own when it’s necessary, especially out here keeping the lizards off our trade routes.”

  “Redesign, Captain?” Helga stood buggy-eyed, nearing her limit of holding in her excitement.

  “It was Commander Nam’s idea,” Cilas said, grinning at her as if it was a gift for her that he was now showing off. “When I told him of our fight with the lizards and those Arisani pirates, Commander Nam suggested we commit to making the Ursula into a proper warship, something like a cruiser, but keeping the stealth and scout features from the former program.”

  “Making a vessel that is in itself a Nighthawk,” the captain added, deadpan to mask his excitement. “Stealth will allow it to close undetected, and the torpedoes and tracers allows it to take on even a destroyer class lizard ship.”

  “Maker,” Helga whispered. It was the very idea she and Cilas had discussed before returning to Rendron.

  “Told you she would freak, sir,” Cilas said, all but nudging his captain.

  Retzo Sho smiled, still composed, but internally jumping with so much joy, Helga could feel it in his ambiance.

  “Well, let us all go together,” Retzo Sho suggested, already starting to stride down the passageway, the crewmen touching their hats to acknowledge the officers and giving a wide berth so the trio could make their way through.

  Had she made it to the hangar on her own, Helga would’ve climbed a ladder to a narrow shaft that was meant for a handful of dock workers assigned to service and repair the officer’s personal vessels. It would have given her a bird’s-eye view of Ursula, which would have been enough to make a good guess at what new weapons and tech had been newly fitted.

  Being with Retzo Sho, however, led to them walking through the main entrance, and two steps in and she was looking up at the nose of a vessel she barely recognized as the Ursula. The first thing that struck her was how much the once sleek scout-class now favored a wicked bird of prey. Her nose was tilted down, presenting her cockpit, bordered by twin dock entry ports, large enough to accommodate fighters, assault class ships, and every variety of dropship.

  “Two docks now?” Helga turned to Cilas, thinking he would know since he had been in on the plans, which she felt more than a little miffed at him keeping it a secret.

  The commander held up three fingers, smirking. “Three entry ports, leading to the one dock we know. Oh, the third would be the main hatch on her belly, for the Thundercat and any other bulky vessels that we take in.”

  “She’s a miniature-sized infiltrator,” Helga whispered, walking up to place a palm on the foremost extension of the landing gear. The metal was pleasantly warm where her fingers touched. She’d expected it to be cold since the hangar was freezing. Helga scrutinized the vessel with a mixture of awe and something akin to love, since she believed that the warmth was the Ursula’s way of letting her know she was happy.

  Looking towards her stern, Helga noticed the thrusters, which had been upgraded from the first-generation FTL to a multipurpose titan engine, meant for battle cruisers, sloops, and warships. Now they could truly joust with the enemy instead of just circling about them.

  Thinking of their past fights, Helga ran out from below the belly to examine her port side to see if the tracers had been upgraded. She was disappointed to find the old ones remained, but was happy to see three additional torpedo launchers had been installed next to the lower dock hatch.

  Seeing the sides, Helga noticed the hull had the same sleek, glassy sheen from before, which was another positive. It was too much ship to take in from the dock floor, but she didn’t want to be rude and run off to view it from the service entrance.

  “Jenny?” the captain suddenly announced, causing Helga to look in his direction, only to find that he was on comms. “Keep him distracted, I will be there in five. Good enough?” He marched towards the exit doors then stopped, raising his free hand to give the Nighthawks a friendly wave.

  No breaks for the top man either, Helga thought, his sudden departure a reminder that they were still on the Rendron, and Retzo Sho was a busy man.

  “Does the captain get a cycle off, ever?” she asked, though she knew the answer already.

  “When he needs one, he can.” Cilas shrugged. “But would you take a break if every time you do, something blows up in engineering? The little experience I had on this bird taught me that even when your team is reliable, something always finds a way to break, or lizards pop up out of nowhere, forcing you to cancel the off-cycle to jump into action. The void of space is a demanding mistress, Hel. She plays quiet and coy, but if you relax, she will go out of her way to rouse you.”

  “Thype, you sound like a captain now more than ever,” Helga muttered, still wondering if Retzo Sho’s lectures had managed to remove all of the fun she had worked at pulling out of her stoic and handsome commander.

  Strong arms found her waist, and she held her breath in disbelief at Cilas’s actions there inside the captain’s private hangar. “The captain knows, Hel, he just pretends to be clueless. Genevieve would never call him this early, not for some minor gripe on the bridge.” He laughed out loud. “He unlocked the hangar to allow us entry, left us alone, and I know for a fact that no dockworkers are scheduled to work this cycle.”

  She felt his chest against the back of her skull, his left hand on her abdomen as his right
teased a stray lock near her ear. Turning, she threw her hands up behind his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, nipping his bottom lip hard, but not hard enough to draw blood. That’s for making me wait so long, she thought, hoping he would get the message.

  Cilas lifted her off her feet and sat her up on a portion of the landing gear tall enough to function as a stool. He kissed her hungrily, and started working his way down to her neck and shoulders. Helga was on fire, but still too nervous to commit to whatever he was planning to do. All manner of thoughts flooded her mind then, fear and lust having a twelve-round bout inside her brain.

  What if the captain forgot something and came back into the hangar to find his young commander and lieutenant breaking protocol with their tryst? What if Commander Jit Nam was to come in too? Surely, he had access to the hangar, and would also be curious. Did he too suspect them being together, and was willing to blindly allow it?

  The zipper on her coveralls was already down, and Cilas cursed when he saw that underneath it was a 3B-XO suit. Getting that off was always a chore, and what he planned wouldn’t allow for that amount of time. He stepped back from her and sighed, his face showing a rare expression of surrender that Helga only would ever witness when she turned him down. This time, however, she wanted it more than he could ever know. This was their final cycle on Rendron, and with the new crew on Ursula, sneaking off would take days of planning, if he was even game to continue.

  Retzo Sho was a seasoned operator, and as observant as they all were, so she expected he had read into their interactions to know they were secretly a couple. The crew, however, expected their commander and lieutenant to follow the same rules they followed, and a superior and his subordinates should have a line, so it would be sneaking around or risk corroding the chain of command.

  Helga peeled off the remainder of her coveralls, put it under an arm, and then took Cilas’s hand and led him up one of the access ramps where she placed her palm against the panel to command it to open. A hatch collapsed inward and slid to the side with a “pop,” followed by a loud hissing sound. She pulled herself up inside a small cargo hold with its bulkheads lined with stores.

  Cilas followed her up and closed the hatch, and while she worked on peeling off her suit, he embraced her again from the back. “I missed you so much,” he whispered hotly into her neck, his adventurous fingers roaming to regions that he knew well would set her off. A wiggle of the hips and some rhythmic steps and Helga escaped the 3B-XO suit, her feet relishing the warmth of the deck.

  “Missed me so much, eh?” she smirked. “You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

  Naked but for her underpants, too hot inside to notice the chilliness in the air, Helga stepped backwards between Cilas’s legs, threw a hip into his abdomen and took him to the floor with a violent twist. The commander, being a hand-to-hand expert, chose not to defend it, landing in an arch to protect his back, but eventually lowering his hips to allow her to mount him.

  “Decisions, decisions,” she teased, pinning his hands down, as she pressed her groin into his, seeing his face betray his impatience. “How does it feel to be made to wait, Commander Mec? You have a lot to make up for, are you aware?”

  “More than you know, Lieutenant Ate, but you see where I was. Still, I accept this challenge and look to setting things right from this cycle forward,” he promised, and she could see from his face that he was being sincere.

  “This place may be filthy and inconvenient, but we’re finally together, so I’ll table my rage for now,” she relented, though she kept his hands pinned as she continued teasing him with her heat. Part of her wanted to keep this up, to see if he could keep himself under control. “Want to dock in my entry port, Commander? These shields won’t retract until I hear the right words.”

  “Lieutenant.” Cilas chose his words carefully. “The captain knows, as far as I can tell, and we are both still Nighthawks, so all my fears are gone. You’ve been patient, which I know is a challenge for you.” This earned him a slap on his bare chest before she quickly reclaimed his hand. “Ouch, wait,” he pleaded before she followed up her salvo. “Rather than words, why don’t you let me demonstrate how much I have missed you, Lady Hellgate.”

  3

  The air was thick, but not enough to make breathing difficult, though a myriad of new scents now violated the space. It had been nearly a Vestalian month’s time since Cilas had held her like this, and for a lonely girl on a capital starship, it had felt like a whole year to the young Nighthawk.

  Now they lay in the afterglow, silent, but for the Ursula’s core, which would purr, squeak, and whisper at random times. Helga’s mind was on her nightmare, remembering the floating head, and wondering if it had truly happened, or if this was her brain adding extra horrors to keep her away from replaying it. She stared up at the overhead, blankly, enjoying the coldness of the deck, which was a contrast to Cilas’s heat where their skin still touched.

  Eventually he spoke. “Hel, are you still upset with me?” he said, and she turned to meet his eyes, wondering if he was serious.

  “That’s a yes, I take it.” He nodded slowly. “May I ask why?”

  Helga sat up and teased at her hair, massaging the shaved areas above her ears before reaching for the 3B-suit to start dressing. “You don’t get to pay off the neglect with sex, Cilas Mec. You’re not that qual,” she said, pulling the tight material onto her legs, then standing to work on her arms. “One comm call, every cycle, that’s what I got from you, and even when you weren’t with the captain, nothing. How do you think that made me feel?”

  “I had no way of knowing, Hel. This whole time, I thought you were out having fun,” he admitted, sitting up to look into her eyes. “Is this about those crutas who made your life hard when you were a cadet? They’re eating Vysen dung now that you rank all of them. And you’re actually famous, about as famous as an active operator can get. Even the ones who didn’t forget how much schtill they gave you likely look up to you now. Rendron loves Lady Hellgate.”

  “With all due respect, Cilas. Thype you and all the other human male officers, who presume to know the pain of being an alien woman serving on a Vestalian warship. You don’t know what I felt being a cadet here, or what I continue to feel as a Nighthawk. Stick to what you know, because this, you can’t begin to understand. I swear, you all do the same schtill, as if we’re either too emotional or dense to qualify our rage.”

  “Whoa.” Cilas threw up a hand. “My intent wasn’t to minimize your feelings. You should know I’m better than that. What gives? All I want to do is help, and if saying what I did evokes—you know what? Never mind. I’ll seal my hatch, alright? And for the record, I’m yours this whole cycle. I am taking some personal time off to spend it with you. I’ve been—”

  “A bastard?” Helga said, glowering.

  “Don’t like that word much,” he said softly, easing back up on his elbows to stare at the overhead. “None of us are bastards, Helga, we’re ‘heroes.’” He threw up air quotes as if to reinforce his distaste with the Alliance calling them heroes. “I’m not big on words, you know that. It’s one of the things that makes this work. I can be myself with you, Helga, not the commander, and not the so-called hero. Duty makes me an imperfect partner, but I want you to know that it isn’t intentional.”

  Helga suddenly felt bad for speaking so harshly before, but not enough to apologize or show that she no longer harbored hard feelings. It was all so heavy she wanted to explode. Why couldn’t he have just reached out more so she knew that he cared? Retzo Sho wasn’t with him every minute of the cycle, so why couldn’t he have given her that? Surely it wasn’t asking too much.

  “This morning, when I saw the time,” she said. “I felt a sort of happiness I haven’t felt since the time you sent me the invitation to become the newest recruit for the Nighthawks. I was happy because today, this cycle, which I have had marked on my calendar since coming aboard. Today meant that we would be leaving soon. That I
can return to the helm of the Ursula with the brothers I trust, feeling wanted, being useful.”

  “Oh,” Cilas whispered, “I see.”

  “But do you, Cilas?” She turned on him again. “Do you know that I’ve had nothing but nightmares since coming back to Rendron? All of the salutes, fake smiles, and ‘Lady Hellgate’ cannot fix that. The pain runs deep here, deeper than Dyn, and much deeper than any of the other thyped up schtill the Alliance has had us do.” Helga exhaled slowly and closed her eyes to push the anger down the way that Sunny had taught her during their meditation sessions.

  “So, what could I do, Helga?” Cilas said, “The captain had me under his wing for months, and it was very much like school. When he wasn’t teaching me, Commander Nam was, and when the two of them were busy, they would assign me reading, vids, and all sorts of other material. Ursula’s remodeling came with a requirement, you see, which was for me to become a true captain in the eyes of the Alliance. They put you all on ice to catch me up. But had it not been done, they would have been forced to turn over Ursula’s command to another officer.”

  “Got a promotion coming with all that learning?” Helga teased, leaning back against the bulkhead, kicking playfully at his feet.

  “They do that, and I would likely be killed in my sleep by one of the many glory-chasers already jealous of who I am,” Cilas groaned. “Helga, I don’t take you for granted, and you really did hurt me just now, making me out to not care. I am not using you. Just the thought of that sickens me to the core. The two of us have been through so much together. Surely you see that I care for you beyond anything physical?”

  “You sure have a funny way of showing it, Cilas, and I’m about at the end of the line with people treating me like schtill. Especially someone I am intimate with. Thype, when in the worlds did I sink this low?” She rolled her head back and stared up at the overhead.