* * *
Jon wearily stumbled out of the door, easing his arm through the bathrobe’s sleeve. He had only slept perhaps seven hours, but once he had woken he found it impossible to go back to sleep. He blinked, thinking the main room empty, but a second glance showed him that a figure was sitting in a chair by the bank of windows, a cup of a steaming beverage in one hand.
Richard turned and smiled. “Good morning,” he offered.
Jon shook his head, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Do you ever sleep?”
“Not much,” agreed Richard. “How would you like a cup of glogg?
“Is that a Hun drink?” asked Jon, searching his memory.
Richard nodded, moving toward the replicator. A murmured command, and in a moment a mustard-yellow mug swirled into view, fragrant and steaming.
Jon picked it up with both hands, gave it a cautious sniff, then drew in a taste. His shoulders eased in pleasure.
“This is quite good,” he offered with a smile.
“I thought you might enjoy it,” agreed Richard, and the two went to sit before the windows again.
Jon marveled at the easy silence that connected the two of them. There was no need to fill the space with talk. He knew that eventually the rest would come, the day would begin, and all would be said. For now it was simply the two of them, preparing for whatever it was the world would throw at them.
After a while Ian came out to join them, quiet, his eyes steady on the mug in his hands. Then it was Stephen, groaning and stretching, and Sean, muttering about the incompetencies of the local police force.
Jon glanced at Nicole’s closed door, then raised an eyebrow to Richard. Richard chuckled. “Another twenty minutes, I would say,” he murmured.
It was closer to thirty before her door slid open, and she staggered, still in her pajamas, over to the table. Ian moved without a word to the replicator, retrieved an emerald green mug, and placed it before her. Her eyes were barely open as she brought the mug to her nose, breathed in a deep inhale, and then took in a long swallow. The sigh that resulted seemed almost soul-deep.
The men turned and moved their chairs to join her around the table. She ran a hand through her hair, blinking once or twice, before beginning.
“Ian.”
“The Mercodians were definitely hired by the Cybians,” he told the group. “But we lose track of the finances once it gets into their banking system. You know how infamously labyrinthine that is. It would take us years to unravel.”
She nodded. “Stephen?”
“Only Mark seems to be involved, on-world,” he reported. “There seems to be no infiltration of the local police or other agencies.” He snorted. “They are wildly incompetent all on their own,” he muttered.
Nicole gave a low laugh. “Hardly a new thing,” she pointed out. “Sean?”
“You were impaled a full two inches by a sharp metal screw,” he ground out. “If you had not had Jon there –”
Her hand went to the spot on her chest, and her eyes narrowed. “You set that insane mechanical laser beam loose on me, didn’t you?”
Sean nodded. “Absolutely I did. And while it was in there –”
Nicole’s voice tightened. “In there??”
Sean put his hands up in surrender. “A figure of speech, nothing more. In any case, you are fine.”
Nicole pulled her robe tighter against her body. “Of course I am fine. I will be even more fine if that conglomeration of needles and lasers stays far away from my body.”
Richard’s voice eased smoothly into the mix. “Jon did save your life,” he pointed out.
She nodded, and her eyes came open fully as she turned to look at Jon. “Yes, you did,” she said to him. “When this is all over, I will show my thanks more properly.”
He took her hand in his, looking from the slender, strong fingers to the fierce resolution in her eyes.
God, she was beautiful.
Even right out of bed, after a night of fighting against ruthless bounty-hunters, she was everything he could hope for.
“I need nothing at all, but to know you are safe,” he murmured.
A smile creased her lips. “And yet, maybe you would be pleased by something more.”
His body flared with desire at the memory of her ivory skin beneath his arm as she lay on the bed; at the sense of completion when he had embraced her in the midnight streets.
He could see the effort it took her to turn her head, to look back to Richard. “Richard, your report?”
“We have kept all news of your status completely hidden from every person beyond those at this table,” he stated. “Our ship is shielded. The common talk is that you were slain and that Jon here was seriously injured. That might work to our advantage.”
She templed her fingers, pressing her brow down against them. “Good, good, but how?” She drew her eyes to the man at her right. “Jon?”
He had been giving this very question thought while staring down at the planet, sipping his glogg with Richard by his side. The question had spun around within his brain, swirled, and over time had intertwined with what he had heard of the Cybian culture. He held her gaze, wondering if she would undertake what he proposed.
“I think you should become a phoenix.”
She blinked more awake at that, and looked around the table at the other men before returning her gaze to his. “What, the Cybian myth?”
He nodded. “They believe in their myths and legends quite strongly. While they say they do not run their lives by them any more, I have seen more than one tap his heel twice at bad luck or twist a ring at the mention of a death. It is too deeply embedded in their society to brush away.”
Richard leant forward with interest. “The phoenix is their legend of someone murdered, seeking revenge. The phoenix will rise from the dead, with five avenging angels in silver, to offer the murderer one last chance at redemption. If he does not take it, they will wipe out his entire family, to the last distant relative.”
Nicole looked again at the five men arrayed before her. “So we teleport in, dressed in silver?”
Jon nodded. “And we do not say a word. We simply look at the Cybians, and you start to slowly raise your hand. I have a feeling whoever is guilty will cave in and admit his guilt rather than sentence his entire family to death.”
Stephen’s eyes sparkled. “I seem to recall it was a fairly horrific death, too,” he commented. “No quick turning to ash here.”
Nicole tapped her lip. “It does seem elegant, and likely to bring results,” she agreed. “Any comments or questions?”
Sean chuckled. “Compared to some of our recent plans, this is a downright walk in a rose garden.”
Nicole downed the rest of her glogg. “Well then,” she stated, rising to her feet, “let us do some research, and see just what these phoenix were supposed to wear!”