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DEEDECK DESIGN
Chapter 16
"Wh-what do we do?” Moira stammered, shaking with shock and the onset of terror. Medical emergencies she could handle. Suffocating in a little tin can in space wasn’t in her repertoire.
“Have a seat, Doc,” Coltier said, his hold loosening from around her upper arm as he urged her back to her chair. “We’re not going anywhere for a while.”
Connie had turned back to the com, thick fingers moving over the controls. After a moment, he grunted. “Sorry, boss. This ain’t my thing.”
Coltier started to move away, but Moira still had a hold of his arm. “Jax,” she wheezed in a voice devoid of strength and courage. She couldn’t produce anything else, her entire form filled with wordless fear.
His face softened as he removed her hand from his arm and held it in his large, warm grip. “Don’t panic, Moira. We’re not done yet.” His other hand cupped her face for a moment in warm reassurance and disconcerting tenderness, before he released her and stepped away. “Let me give it a go, Con. You check for others.”
Connie slipped out the door, and Coltier positioned himself in front of the com.
Moira took a deep breath, working to push back the fear and focus her mind. “What are you trying to do?”
“Connect with the control chamber remotely. So far, no luck. If we can’t do it, I’ll contact Kreel and see if he can walk me through a remote fix.”
“We can’t wait for rescue?”
“We’ll get the word out and cross our fingers, but I don’t think we’ve got enough air.”
Moira gulped. “How could this happen?”
“My guess is either Besh missed a sabotage, or somehow the programmer managed a remote attack. I’m hoping for the second, because that means a remote fix could work.”
“You don’t think it was just an accident.”
He sent her a sardonic half smile over his shoulder and didn’t reply. Moira nodded dully. After three other murder attempts, the probability of a catastrophic accident was pretty damned low.
“I can help, contact the station, send a distress...”
He shook his head without looking around at her, focusing on the com. “If we use any com system, it’ll be my secure unit. I don’t trust normal channels right now.” Then he made a rough sound in his throat and slapped a hand flat against the wall. “No go. Con?”
“No luck, sir,” Connie’s voice came through the com.
Coltier pulled out his personal com unit and flipped it open, tapping at it with a scowl. It took a lot longer than she thought it should for him to reach anyone, but he was probably routing the transmission through his security again. Or she was still on panic time and everything just seemed to take forever.
“Kreel, trouble. We’re stranded, stuck in the interior of the ship with vacuum in the controllable areas.”
“The pilots?” Kreel’s voice sounded tiny and insignificant to Moira, coming through the small unit.
“Void has ‘em. This is the usual government issue space pod. Interior is sealed, no EVA suits, no direct ship controls. Got any ideas?”
“I need a com connection. Any ports close by?”
Coltier settled his portable unit in a small indent next to the ship’s com and tapped both units. “That work?”
“Beautiful. Stand by.”
Moira tucked her hands under her thighs, feeling jittery and useless. She envied Coltier’s cool calm, watching him lean against the wall and fold his arms as if he was waiting for a table in a restaurant instead of waiting for someone to save his life.
“I’m in. Hell of a mess…sir, you had a malicious download shortly before the hatch blew. It was an override program, similar to the airlock one. Same programmer, I’d guess. But sloppy—either he didn’t know about the pod’s interior design or couldn’t take the time to refine the program.”
Coltier turned his head, dark eyes piercing Moira with grim intent. “What was your fan’s name?”
“My f—you mean Jaime?”
“Kreel, the doc got a transmission from a transfer tech, first name Jaime, last name unknown. Happened right before the blow. What did he want, Doc?”
“Just to ask if I wanted another clone grown. I usually request a replacement, in case something drastic happens to me at the zone.”
“Transfer techs don’t usually handle that transaction.”
“No…no, they don’t,” she admitted reluctantly, seeing where he was going with this. “But Jaime saved my life. He couldn’t be the programmer. Why would he want me dead?”
“Kreel, put Besh on it.”
“You just did, sir. He was with me when you called.”
“Good. What’s the word on this boat?”
Moira held her breath.
“I need to do a remote reroute, which will take some time. But it’s possible, Mr. Coltier. A little awkward, but doable. Just sit tight.”
“Good man. How’s our air?”
“You’ll have enough.”
Moira let her breath out in a rush, propping her elbows on knees and putting her face in her hands. Kreel said something else to which Coltier replied, but she didn’t pay attention, too busy trying not to lose her mind. Grown women should not throw tantrums and cry hysterically. But by the Void, she was getting really, really sick of someone trying to kill her and everyone around her.
She was startled to feel warm hands curl around her wrists, and let him draw her hands away. Coltier was crouched in front of her, watching her with somber dark eyes, his mobile mouth tight and straight.
“Moira,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, before he could continue.
“For what?”
“For putting you and your people in danger over and over. I’m not healthy to be around, Coltier.”
His mouth eased into the barest hint of a smile. “No, but you sure aren’t boring. And it seems like the only way I can get you to call me Jax.”
A short laugh caught her by surprise, and she dropped her chin, staring at his fingers circling her wrists and blinking back the sting of tears as she mumbled, “You practice being annoying, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he rasped, hands tightening on her wrists. “Moira, you’re going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Those two pilots died because of me.” She raised her head and met his gaze, letting him see how that responsibility wounded her. “Don’t let anything happen to you or Connie either, okay?”
“That wasn’t on you,” he said, brows pulling together. “That was on the asshole who sent the override.”
“Seriously.” She rotated her hands in his hold and clasped his thick wrists in a demanding grip. “I want you and Connie safe.”
That ghost of a smile curled his lips. “Yes, ma’am,” he growled, then leaned forward and touched his mouth to hers.
Moira nearly fell out of her seat. If he was trying to distract her from their distressing situation, he succeeded brilliantly. Her thoughts screeched to a halt and derailed, everything inside her refocusing on the warm, tingling brush of his lips against hers. Her breath stuttered in her chest, heart leaping into a sprint as heat flashed down her body. The gentle brush of his firm, mobile lips paused in a clinging contact that melted her bones, before he eased back in slow retreat.
Moira opened eyes she hadn’t realized she’d closed, meeting his dark gaze with an ache in her body and confusion in her mind. She knew there was something she should be saying right about now, but couldn’t think of what it was. Mostly she just wanted his mouth back on hers, but knew that wasn’t a good idea. She just couldn’t remember why it wasn’t a good idea. The tingle in her lips and his intoxicating, spicy scent kept interfering with her thought processes. Her tongue darted out across her lower lip, hoping for a lingering taste of him.
His eyes followed the movement with a flash of dark heat in their depths, big hands tightening on her skin. “Moira,” he said in a hoarse, meditative tone that was dangerously seductive, turning the ache in her center to a molten throb. She could feel the flex of muscle and sinew under her fingers, and swallowed against the sudden hunger to feel him all over.
A sound interfered with her internal battle not to slide off of the chair and onto his lap. He slowly raised his eyes from her mouth and turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Moira blinked, focusing on movement behind him. Connie cleared his throat again, standing with his face carefully averted.
“Boss, Besh wants a word.”
Coltier released her, rising to his feet in a smooth, powerful movement that made her mouth dry. “On a secure line?”
“Yes, sir,” Connie responded, holding out another com unit.
Coltier stepped away from her, taking the unit and walking out of the door without another word. Connie flashed an unreadable glance her way before following his boss.
Moira slumped in her seat and covered her eyes with one hand. Without Coltier’s disturbing presence and disruptive influence on her thought processes, she remembered just exactly why she shouldn’t be kissing the man. It might feel good—incredible, hot, tantalizing, almost irresistible—but it would lead to places she couldn’t afford to go. When this was all over, they would be going their separate ways.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes until fireworks bloomed across her eyelids. She wasn’t built to do sex without emotion. If she had sex with her dark and seductive investigator, she would get dangerously involved, which would make their inevitable parting painful in a way that wasn’t worth the physical gratification.
So for the Void’s sake rein it in, Bannen.
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