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She didn t know where Mack learned to kiss, but by Ixari s eyes, he was
superb. Better each time. Only Simon s relentless, off-key rendition of the
wedding song kept her focused on who and what and where she was.
Gillaine, Kiasidira, Ciran Rothalla Davré. On Cirrus One, some three hundred
forty-two years from her last conscious moment.
And facing a big problem.
I met Rigo. She pushed herself away from the bulkhead, moved quickly toward
the bridge. The metal walls around her phased to crystal as she walked.
Was I correct in my findings?Simon had been as thorough in his research on
the magefather as Cirrus s databanks permitted. But only a face-to-face
meeting would hold the final truth.
Fav lhir. She spat out the word, plopped down into the captain s chair. The
warmth from Mack s kisses had faded and was replaced by a hard, cold fury.
Son of a motherless bitch is Fav lhir. With a Melandan line in his essence.
Weak, but it s there. You know what that means.
We erred we didn t get them all. The Melandan mage lineage is not dead.
Not yet. She ran her hands over her console, felt the crystal respond.
Spellforms laced her skin. She spoke to each one, sent them back, reassured,
pulsing with power. But obviously, they think I am. And they re counting on
that fact.
She hesitated, cocked her head to one side. Simon. Answer me this. Are you
starting to get the feeling that our current location is not total
happenstance? That there may be a very real reason why Tarkir chose to send us
to this very place and point in time?
Besides the fact that his granddaughter-in-lineage was long overdue to fall
in love? Yes, My Lady. I m beginning to believe that this is where you were
supposed to be all along.
I am too. So now answer me this as well. How in Merkara s depths are you and
I supposed to take on the entire godsdamned Fav lhir fleet by ourselves?
I m sure you ll think of something, Gillaine.
It s not only me. I need you, Simon. And I need a fully functioning
Raptor-class starcruiser. If the Fav lhir have managed to rebuild their
mageline, I don t know if even all I have all I am can stop them.
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Mack hated his office. It was shabby and cramped. It gave him absolutely no
psychological advantage when it came to confronting Johnna Hebbs. But he d
have less of an advantage questioning her motives and her greed and her
stupidity in the stationmaster s large office with its wide viewport and even
wider desk.
So the morning after a wonderful evening in Gillaine s company, Mack folded
his arms over his chest and leaned back in what had to be the most
uncomfortable chair in the universe as Hebbs took a seat across from him. In
his shabby, cramped office. And he tried not to let his irritation show.
At least, not his irritation about his surroundings. That he was seriously
annoyed with Hebbs s alliance with Magefather Rigo was no secret.
I have stationers with families to feed, debts to pay. Hebbs folded her
arms across her chest as well. This was not going to be a pleasant meeting.
Two of my hotels are now your staff dorm facilities. We lost a restaurant so
you could have an officers club. Your mess hall used to be a damned decent
pub. All run by stationers. Your Fleet put my people out of work. Rigo s
shrine can give that income back to them.
An uncontrolled docking bay is sheer suicide, Johnna.
Yeah. Death by starvation takes a little longer.
Stationers were not starving. Mack would never have permitted that. Yes,
there d been some changes since Fleet s arrival. Unemployment
was temporarily higher. But Fleet had promised a civilian work program for
Cirrus One. It had just like most of his requisitioned supplies taken a bit
longer to materialize than anyone liked. Fleet will have twenty new civilian
positions opening here in sixty to ninety days. You know that.
Fleet routinely turns sixty days into six months.You knowthat . And your
twenty low-end jobs won t do a damned thing for the dozen or so freighter crew
I ve got sitting without postings because their ships won t dock here now.
Their ships won t dock here now because their documentation is forged. And
Fleet won t hire civilians with criminal records.
Rigo s willing to forgive their sins.
And give them jobs. Mack had suspected as much. Security was not one of
Rigo s top priorities.
But Cirrus s denizenswere one of Hebbs s. And, though he knew she didn t
believe it, one of his. They actually had that in common, and he,
begrudgingly, admired her devotion to the stationers. Even if it was partially
motivated by greed. But he didn t think even if he admitted that admiration,
it would shift her focus from finances to safety.
Still, he tried. She seemed momentarily surprised by his half compliment; he
couldn t make it any more than that. There was still a not-so-subtle
flirtation in her dealings with him. A sexual agenda. He couldn t risk
encouraging that.
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So she gave him no encouragement when it came to changing her mind about the
docking bay.
When she left his office fifteen minutes later, he wondered if Cirrus would
ever provide him anything other than continual exercises in futility.
And, not for the first time, he also wondered if someone in Fleet HQ hadn t
foreseen exactly that. Maybe it wasn tGive it to Mack, he ll fix it. Maybe it
wasGive it to Mack, he s rising too fast. We need to slow him down. Or stop
him by setting him up to fail .
It took three days before Mack trudged into Gillie s bay and admitted he d
given in to Magefather Rigo s demand for an uncontrolled docking bay for the
shrine. Gillie was actually surprised he d lasted that long. There was almost
unrelenting pressure from Prime temple priests and priestesses on Trakhaalus,
from Hebbs and CQPA, from the tens of thousands of devout in the Confederation
and the hundreds of their kindred on station. Not to mention from within Fleet
itself. And Fleet, Gillie knew, was where Mack s heart resided.
He could say what he wanted to the others, and did. But he couldn t defy a
direct order from Fleet Command.
It was mid-afternoon, middle of main shift, when he showed up in her bay.
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