Everett shuffled his papers into a neat stack and picked them up. "I've had every analyst we've got going over the information. With the latest from the merchants, it's certain they are somewhere in Delphinus."
"That's only a few hundred star systems to search," Paltronis said. She stood behind Tayvis' desk, staring out the viewscreen at nothing. They were underway again, headed for Neptarus, capital of the newly minted dictatorship of Delphinus.
"We've got confirmation that they're still alive," Everett said.
"We'll find them, Paltronis," Tayvis added. "Good work, Everett."
Everett stood. "We're still working over all the data Roland sent. If there's more I'll let you know." He left the office, the door sliding shut behind him.
Tayvis kicked back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. He sighed and lowered his arms.
"How do you do it, Tayvis?" Paltronis asked.
Tayvis watched her, waiting for her to explain her question.
She stood next to his chair, staring down at his desk. The only sound was the soft soughing of the air vent and the subliminal vibrations of the hyperdrive.
"How do I do what?" Tayvis asked.
"How do you sit there and make decisions and keep going, day after day? Don't you miss her at all?"
If it had been anyone else, Tayvis would have shut himself off, emotionally and mentally. He would have retreated inside himself and sent the person away with a harsh answer. But this was Paltronis.
"What am I supposed to do? Collapse in an orgy of grief? I can't afford that. I have to keep working, I don't have a choice."
"You appointed yourself to save the universe," Paltronis said. "You had a choice. You could have talked her out of going to Linas-Drias in the first place."
"It wouldn't have changed anything." Tayvis studied her. "This isn't really about me. Or Dace."
Paltronis looked away, folding her arms. She looked vulnerable. She was never vulnerable. She was tough and mean and self assured. It was a shell she hid behind.
Tayvis stood, wanting to reach out to her and not certain how. "We'll find them, Cici. Whatever it takes."
"What if we don't?" she whispered. "What if we're too late? What if Beryn…" She bit her lip. A single tear escaped.
Tayvis moved before he thought about it. He wiped the tear off her cheek. Paltronis stepped in close, laying her head on his chest, needing comfort. He put his arms around her, offering what he could.
"We couldn't find Dace in time," Paltronis said, her voice muffled by his uniform. "We aren't going to find Beryn, either."
"Don't say that," Tayvis said. He rubbed her back. "We'll find them. We have to."
"I love him, Tayvis. It scares me how much I want him. It scares me to think he might be dead, that I'll never see him again."
Tayvis swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew exactly how Paltronis felt. Only he knew somewhere in his heart that he wasn't ever going to see Dace again. It hurt most at night, when he was alone in his cabin.
Paltronis stepped back, just enough so she could look up at him. Tears sparkled in her lashes. She raised a hesitant hand and brushed a tear from his cheek. He hadn't even known he was crying.
He was suddenly aware of how close she was to him, emotionally and physically. He had come to rely on her strength. She needed his now.
He didn't know who moved first. He was kissing her and she was kissing him back. It was a desperate kiss, a passion born from despair and loneliness. He broke it off, pushing her away. He turned his back, moving away from her.
"Tayvis." She waited until he turned back around.
He shook his head. "Don't do this, Paltronis."
"The whole crew already thinks we're having an affair. What will it hurt? We both want it. Dace is already dead and Beryn is as good as dead." Her voice was full of hurt.
"I can't do that to her, whether she's really dead or not. And you can't betray Beryn, not that way. Paltronis, I love you. As a very good friend. I'd trust my life to you." He moved towards her, feeling her need for comfort. He stopped himself with an effort. "We'd both regret it."
"I know you're right, but right now, I hate you." She slammed open the door and stalked out into the hall.
Tayvis sagged as the door slid shut. He hoped he'd done the right thing. He slumped into his chair. He put his head down on the desk and cried, as he hadn't since that awful night Dace had disappeared.
* * *
Paltronis stalked through the ship, radiating anger. People turned and went the other way when they saw her. She didn't care where she went. She raged inside as she paced the halls. She knew Tayvis was right, but she still felt hurt that he'd reject her. She'd been half in love with him for years, but he'd never seen her as more than a comrade, a friend, a fellow officer. Beryn had been the first man to actually treat her like a woman.
She didn't want to think about him. He was missing, lost somewhere, held for ransom by their nameless, faceless foe. It hurt too much to think about. She wanted a fight. She wanted something to hit until her anger burned itself out.
She went to the training room for the marines. Despite the late hour, a dozen worked out in various ways. They stopped when she entered the room. She stalked across the training mats to the fighting arena. Two men sparred with each other. She picked up a pair of gloves.
"You want a match?" the drill sergeant asked her. "We don't have anyone in your class. Why don't you go work with a dummy until we can find someone for you?"
She almost hit him. He was being reasonable. He was also correctly reading her mood. Anyone in the ring with her had better be more than good or he was likely to end up maimed for life. Her current mood was too black.
She shoved her hands into the protective gloves. The dummies hung near the wall, stuffed pillars of leather. She smacked her hand into the first one. It stung. She drove through the pain, raining blows on the dummy so fast her hands were a blur. She threw all her rage and hurt and uncertainty at the dummy. She felt vulnerable, as she never had in her life, and it scared her. She translated the fear into rage and lashed out with feet and fists.
The chain snapped and the dummy crashed into the wall. She stopped, breathing hard, acutely aware of the silence in the room. The marines were staring at her. She felt exposed, almost naked, ashamed of her rage. She took one step back, stripping off the gloves.
"That is how you disable a target," the drill sergeant announced. "I'd like to see you maggots do half as well."
Paltronis dropped the gloves near the dummy. It lay on its side, one seam split. The marines were still watching her, in awe of her performance. She knew they would talk about her, later in the barracks. She didn't care anymore. She turned her back.
The drill sergeant was watching her, only a step away. "Remind me not to get you mad," he said quietly.
"Thank you," she said, just as quietly, "for not letting me into that ring."
"It's my job," he said simply. "You want to talk?"
She shook her head. He let her go.
She went to her cabin and locked the door. Rank had its privileges. She didn't have to share. She was grateful for that. She lay down on her bunk and let go of her self control. She cried until she had nothing left inside but emptiness.