* * *
Jon stared after Nicole, lost in thought. What was it about her that caught his attention so strongly? He had many girlfriends, many lovers, over the years. Each one had been different and compelling. And yet, there was something about Nicole …
He made his way up to a balcony overlook, where he could watch the gathering from a distance. Nicole was like a salmon in a sea of fluttering goldfish. She moved with a purpose; even from here he could feel the draw to her.
Three short days. He would have three short days to get to know her, to soak in her presence. Three short days – and then she would be gone.
A deep voice spoke at his ear, startling him.
“Strange,” commented Jamus. “It’s almost as if ...”
“What?” Jon turned to the military officer in confusion, wondering if he’d missed a part of the conversation.
Jamus crossed his arms. His thick biceps rippled, sending a wave along his textured skin. His Hun heritage had served him well in the hand-to-hand fighting the ship occasionally dealt with in ground combat. He was inches taller than most humans, and his eyes glowed bright emerald.
Jamus nodded his head toward Nicole. “See the way her men are arrayed around her?” His gaze sharpened. “Richard, her blond second-in-command, stays behind her. Stephen, the guy with the black curls, watches on the left, his hand ready at his hip. Sean, with the copper, shoulder-length waves, saunters along on the right. Up front is Ian, with the light-brown brush cut, and there’s this sense that he knows exactly what is going on.”
Jon watched for a while and found that Jamus was indeed correct. Wherever Nicole moved, the diamond guard moved with her. The pattern was maintained regardless of who they encountered or how the crowd flowed around them.
“I agree you are right. The crew is watching over Nicole. But surely that is part of their responsibility. Especially this weekend, with the stakes as high as they are.”
Jamus’s brow creased. “It’s not just any formation,” he replied with emphasis. “That’s the formation used by Nikita.”
Jon shook his head. He should have known that Nikita’s name would come up. He turned to Jamus with a gentle smile. “Look, Jamus, I know your interest in your planet’s heroine borders on an obsession. According to your legends, she came into being a thousand years ago. She is reborn into each new generation, where she dedicates her life to preserving the peace.”
His mouth turned up. “That last Nikita iteration was stunning. Facing down thirteen Hun warships – and was it two hundred fighters? That would be quite an achievement in any era.”
He glanced at the laughing group below him. “However, I highly doubt the Hun woman who was slain decades ago had any contact with the diplomat we met today. Nicole would have been an infant.”
Jamus wasn’t listening. “They say Nikita wasn’t killed,” he growled. “She went into hiding and has created a secret school for elite warriors. She and her team only open their doors to the faithful.”
Jon sighed. This was one of Jamus’s most fondly held dreams. To find Nikita, to receive her knowledge, and to fulfill his noble family’s heritage. He would be the one, at last, to lead the Hun into their finest hour.
“Jamus, Nikita’s team was slain by assassins,” he pointed out. “It was a final act of treachery near the end of the Hun civil war.”
Jamus snorted. “Lies. I know that she and her team are waiting in a secret location, prepared to train those who seek them out.”
His frown deepened as he peered into the crowd. “Somehow, against all odds, Nicole has found Nikita. Nicole must have somehow coerced Nikita into sharing what she knew.” He harrumphed. “Even though clearly Nicole is entirely unworthy of that attention.”
Jon ran a hand through his hair. “Jamus, you can’t honestly believe –”
Jamus cut him off. “It all fits,” he insisted, his emerald eyes glowing with heat. “Nicole and her team have taken on nicknames which neatly mirror those the Hun royal families have used down the ages. They have training and skills that only Nikita could have shared with them.” A growl emerged from his throat. “You can’t tell me they learned that level of combat down in the slums of Vercador Sept.”
“They’ve been scouting the universe for over ten years now,” pointed out Jon. “They’ve had plenty of time to –”
Jamus’s gaze lit. “They had plenty of time to track down exactly where Nikita’s hidden base was located,” he breathed. “All I need to do is prove they have the training. Then they would be forced to share the school’s location with me!”
He pushed past Jon and strode down the small flight of stairs. Jon found himself running to catch up with his friend. Jamus was a fascinating person to work with and brilliant at military tactics. However, his obsession with the history of his Hun culture was only matched by his fiery insistence on always being proven right. Jon had no interest in dragging his friend out of a confrontation tonight – not when his time to spend with Nicole was already so cruelly short.
Ahead, Jamus shouldered his way through the crowd. The tall man was soon staring down at Stephen. Jon could hear Jamus introducing himself as he came within earshot.
Stephen responded in a congenial tone. “How can I help you, Jamus?” He nodded to Jon as Jon came up behind his friend. “Is there something I can assist you two with?”
Jon found he could read Stephen’s stance as if the two had trained together for years. The relaxation along his shoulder blades told that he saw no threat in the taller Hun. The hand floating near his hip showed that he would be ready, just in case.
Jamus held Stephen’s gaze with fixed attention. “I was admiring your defensive formation,” he stated with a snap. “A liquid diamond. I’m sure we know who you learned that from. I’d just like to know where.”
Stephen’s eyes narrowed; the line of his muscles along his shoulders rose. Jon could feel, viscerally, the reaction of the other three men in his team. The slight turn of Richard’s head. The stilling in Ian’s stride.
The tension rippling down Sean’s arm.
Stephen’s voice was cool. “I’m sure if you sent your request to Nicole along proper channels, that she would –”
Jamus interrupted as if he had not heard. “Your team’s fighting its way out of Raisa Dwa is well documented. I’ve seen some of the video. That style of movement is only taught to Huns in the noble families.” His voice dropped to a growl. “I know. My family is part of the high royal network.” He took a step forward. “Where did Nicole – an outsider - learn it? Who taught her? She has no right!”
Stephen’s jaw ripped with tension, and Jon saw that Richard’s attention was fully on them now. Stephen laid a hand on Jamus’s arm. “Jamus, it might be better if we –”
Before Jon realized what was happening, Jamus had ripped his arm free of Jon and launched a punch into Stephen’s ribs, putting the full weight of his body behind it. Jon had seen Jamus in action before; this kind of blow typically laid his opponent out, unconscious and broken.
Stephen swept aside the blow as if it were a waving banner of silk. At the same instant, a glasblade appeared in his other hand, the transparent edge pressed with sharp precision into the cleft of Jamus’s neck.
Jamus froze, his eyes wide with shock. The thinnest trickle of emerald-green blood trailed down his throat.
Stephen held the blade there for a heartbeat, then stepped back, slipping the weapon into its sheath at his hip.
Jamus drew in a staggering breath. He did not make any move as the other three members of Stephen’s team closed in to surround him. A few moments later Nicole herself came over, bringing with her Captain Smythe. She pressed her badge. “Beam eight to the Zeta Nine.”
In a few moments Jon was standing on the familiar platform, wondering just what had happened.
Captain Smythe took control of the situation with brisk efficiency. “Jamus, explain yourself immediately.”
Jamus crossed his thick arms in front of hi
s chest. “Nicole has been personally trained by Nikita,” he stated with his habitual bluntness. “The combat style is the final, conclusive proof. I know that move; I have seen it performed by the Grand Master himself. No outsider should have that level of skill.”
Jon shook his head. Apparently Jamus saw no need to apologize for his actions. The man had developed a theory, and it was logical for him to test it out.
Captain Smythe’s face darkened with anger. “Jamus, I want you to –”
Nicole put a hand on his arm, forestalling him. “It is all right, Captain,” she assured him. “I know of Jamus and his family. They take these matters of honor seriously.”
She turned to gaze at him for a moment. “Your research is correct, Jamus. While many cultures have similar systems, I have indeed modeled my team’s style after that used by Nikita.” A small smile traced her lips. “I have studied Nikita for many years. I do not hide my admiration of her.”
Her gaze cooled. “I have not, however, ever met her, nor do I claim any other special training. Just as you knew enough of her systems to recognize what I have done, I had learned enough to put together the security I have.”
Jamus scowled. “For me to recognize it, given my family connections, and for you to actually have implemented these systems are far different matters.” More than a hint of disbelief colored his voice. “You developed this all on your own? Without proper training?”
Nicole nodded at the implied compliment. “You see the end result of many years of trial and error, Jamus,” she explained. “This is hardly how we started. And it probably will not be how we end up. And yet, she was my inspiration. I am glad that you saw her touch in my work, but rest assured, it is all my own.”
She glanced at the clock hanging on the opposite wall. “Are you done attacking my crew now?”
Captain Smythe spoke up again. “There was no excuse for Jamus’s behavior. He will be confined to the ship for the remainder of the event, pending a formal hearing. I will handle his discipline personally, and I promise you that there will be no more trouble for your crew.”
Nicole nodded her appreciation. “We do need to return promptly; we have a great deal left to do.” At a motion from Captain Smythe, Nicole and her crewmen were transported back down to the surface.
Jon stared into the space left by her shimmering departure as if through willpower alone he could bring her back.