Mission To Mahjundar (40 page)

“Lewis there will bring Mike, and I’m escorting you to the captain of the ship,” he said in Mahjundan.

“I’d rather stay with Michael.”

He shook his head. “Not going to be possible. He needs to go to sick bay pronto. I’ll have to go in for a debrief on our mission, and I need to know I’ve left you in safe hands.” Johnny steered her out of the drone and down the ramp.

Shalira gawked at her surroundings. The hangar was immense, crowded with sleek ships, some similar to the drone she’d ridden in but others clearly of a more lethal nature. Busy crew members shot her curious glances as they went about their duties. A white-clad man who must be the promised doctor waited to the side, clutching some sort of instrument set, tapping his toe with impatience. Everett was already gone.

“Dr. Tyree, let me introduce Her Highness, Princess Shalira,” Johnny said in Mahjundan and then again in Basic.
 

Doing a double take, murmuring something, the doctor extended his hand.
 

Shaking hands, Shalira had the sinking realization Johnny and Mike were probably the only two people on board the ship who spoke her language. She knew a smattering of Basic from conversations with Mike on the trail, but not enough to get along on her own in this completely strange environment. She clutched at Johnny’s sleeve in a moment of panic.
No wonder he swore not to leave me.

“I told the doc you’re going to need hypnotraining in Basic when he checks you out for injuries,” Johnny said, moving her aside a few steps so the crewman could bring Mike to the deck.
 

“Thank you. This place is overwhelming.”
 

Mike was conscious, agitated, swearing at the man directing his antigrav stretcher. He fought the restraining straps, glaring with a clenched jaw at the crew member trying to help him. Instinctively Shalira went to him, taking his hand and pushing him gently to lie back. “It’s all right—I’m here.”

Johnny joined her, as did the doctor. A furious conversation in Basic ensued. Shalira knew enough of the language to realize Mike was refusing medical treatment until he’d personally gotten the captain’s word she was safe and protected on this ship. She clung to his hand, even as she remonstrated with him that Johnny would keep her safe and he had to go with the doctor for treatment. Mike wouldn’t be budged. Johnny translated some of the doctor’s increasingly insistent remarks for Shalira in an undertone.

“What is all this fuss on my hangar deck?” The new arrival’s demeanor left the princess in no doubt he was Captain Nikolai Novikov. All the military personnel around her saluted and relieved expressions replaced the stress and concern.

The captain bent over Mike, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “When I got the orders to check on a possible Mawreg incursion, I had to go investigate. I can see matters got dicey where you were.” Novikov ran one his hand through his military crop of white-blond hair. “Problems with the roboship extraction?”

Face white and drawn, Mike lay back on the litter. “Orders are orders, Nik. I understood your situation. We're safe now so forget it. I brought back one survivor from the crash, and he’s got the data the Sectors were so hot to retrieve.” Switching to Mahjundan, he said, “Your Highness, may I present Captain Nikolai Novikov? This is his battleship we've come to stay on.”
 

Shalira extended her hand gracefully. “I’m honored to meet any friend of Michael’s.”
 

“Nikolai, this is Her Highness Shalira, Imperial Princess of Mahjundar,” Mike announced, switching back to Basic.
 

Clearly astounded, eyebows raised practically to his hairline, the captain bowed over her hand with as much grace and aplomb as he seemed able to muster. Shalira suppressed a smile.
 

Another shock was to follow for the poor man.
 

“I want you to marry us, as soon as possible. Today in fact. After I’ve been in rejuve and debriefed.” Mike laughed at his friend's expression.
 

“What trouble have you been in?” Giving Mike no time to answer, Nikolai raised a hand. “Never mind, I won't believe it anyhow.” Shaking his head in bemusement, he bowed to the princess. “Welcome to my ship, Your Highness.”
 

"It is good to be somewhere I don’t have to be afraid of being killed," Shalira said.
 

"I assure you, anyone who tries to kill you on my ship will be tossed off!" The captain guffawed as soon as Mike translated her remark.
 

The doctor was still trying to shepherd them toward the edge of the hangar.
 

Not releasing her hand, Mike persisted. “I’m not done yet, damn it.” Grabbing the captain’s arm, he said, “I want your personal word of honor that Shalira will remain on this ship until she and I get married, you’ll issue her Sectors ID, and then you’ll transport her with me to the nearest commercial spaceport.”

Glancing at her, Nikolai nodded. “Of course. Don’t upset yourself and don’t delay treatment. She’s my guest until she’s your wife and a Sectors citizen. Someone on the planet wants her back, eh?”

“They would if they knew I was alive,” she confirmed as soon as she heard Johnny’s hasty translation.
 

“And you wish to marry this scoundrel and go off to live with him in the Sectors?” The captain’s question was light hearted in tone, but his expression was stern.

“That’s all I want,” she said, squeezing Mike’s hand. “But first I want him to have his injuries taken care of.”

“Lords of Space, what an uproar this will cause!” The
Andromeda’s
captain closed his eyes, small smile hovering on his lips, apparently savoring the mental picture. He rested one hand on Mike’s shoulder. “You never could do anything routine, could you? Or by the book?”
 

“Having been through hell and back together, I can tell you she's a woman in a million. I love her, damn it, and I want you to marry us today.”
 

“All right, my friend. Then I'll do it and to hell with what Command thinks. On my own ship, I don’t have to ask anyone's permission. You can explain to the authorities later, and I don’t envy you the job. Some regulations somewhere must have been bent a little, if not broken outright, for you to come back engaged to an imperial princess.” Nikolai peered closely at him. “I imagine you’ll be able to explain it. Now get yourself to sick bay and get cleaned up. That’s an order. I’ll personally escort Her Highness to suitable quarters and get my staff working on a wedding. See what Stores can create for a wedding dress.”

Shalira bent over to kiss Mike and then stepped closer to the captain as the impatient doctor and his orderlies whisked her lover away for treatment.

The chapel on the
Andromeda
was nondenominational, per Fleet regulations, suitable for the basic rituals and observances of most of the thirty odd peoples found in the planetary systems making up the Sectors. As captain of the battleship, Nikolai was authorized to perform ceremonies from christenings to weddings to funerals.
 

Mike stood in his blue dress uniform, grinning from ear to ear, at the far bulkhead, beneath the stunning vista of the galactic star fields projected by the ship’s AI.

Feeling a little foolish, as if he’d stepped from a recruiting holo since he was wearing a dress uniform, he was flanked by his best man, Johnny, who had never—to the best of Mike’s recollection—worn a dress uniform before.
 

And we’re both as nervous as we were on day one at the Academy and boot camp.
Mike took a deep breath, hoping to calm the butterflies in his gut.
This is worse than any mission behind enemy lines.
At least he could breathe, thanks to the rejuve regenerator treatment. Not even bruises left. And he’d have the strength to give his princess a proper wedding night. A bed on the
Andromeda
would be much more conducive to what he had in mind than the mat and furs on the cave floor had been. He nudged his best man in the ribs.
“You're sure you've got the ring?”
 

“For the tenth time, I've got the ring,” Johnny whispered. He displayed the jewelry in question for a moment, before stowing it back in his pocket. “I won't drop it.”
 

Ignoring the small group of wedding guests, Mike gazed at the empty doorway, impatience making his stomach churn. “What could be taking so long? You're sure she was all right?”
 

“When they threw me out this afternoon so she could try on dresses, she was fine,” Johnny answered. “Calm down before you have an anxiety attack. Got no medkit on me right now.”

The guests were mostly from Nikolai's command staff. Everett was in attendance, thin, pale, but looking like a different person in his dress uniform. Mike hadn’t expected anything more than a bare bones civil ceremony, but a few minutes ago Nikolai confided that the
Andromeda’s
Executive Officer’s deepest secret was her love for steamy romance novels from the holo serial library. “Don’t ask how I know,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “But when I told her there was to be a wedding between a princess and a Special Forces officer, with her challenge being to provide the dress, she went all-out. I promise your bride will have all the necessary details for her special day, my friend.”
 

Now, the AI played a processional from the days of old Terra, which Mike's ancestors had carried with them to their new home world.
 

Shalira, walking alone, appeared in the doorway.

Her beauty took Mike's breath away.
 

She wore her silky black hair pinned on her head in a loose chignon, the hairstyle accenting her beautiful cheekbones and luminous eyes. The Windhunter collar lay clasped around her long, elegant neck, the locket of Pavmiraia resting on top. The white, sleeveless dress was floor-length, shimmering fabric, slit to the knee, with a short train. Shalira was barefoot, which she’d informed him previously was the custom on Mahjundar for a bride. Her toenails were painted pale silver to match the dress, but she wore no other makeup or enhancements.
 

Her huge cocoa-brown eyes were fixed directly on Mike's face. The ship's hydroponics section had donated a generous portion of real Terran roses and ferns, customarily never cut, and these had been fashioned into a bouquet with silver ribbons. Shalira carried this in the curve of her left arm.
 

The ceremony itself took only a few minutes. His bride’s focus never left Mike's face as she recited her vows in response to his, and to Nikolai's prompts. Mike had asked his friend to omit the portion asking who gave the bride in marriage, not wanting to cause her pain by emphasizing the loss of her beloved Saium. She watched as Mike slid his Academy ring onto her left hand. It had been resized in the
Andromeda's
shop that afternoon to fit her slender finger. Sparkling in the overhead lights, the Terran diamond set in the center of the ring threw off rainbows. Surprising him, she had a ring for him as well, made from a sliver of the cherindor scepter’s gold, worked by the clever techs onboard the ship on a rush basis at her request.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Nikolai intoned. “You may kiss the bride, Major!”
 

Folding Shalira in his arms, Mike kissed her long and hard, until the clapping and cheering of the audience reminded him where they were. Then the couple wheeled to face the gathering, Mike presenting her with a flourish.
 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mrs. James Michael Varone!” He could barely speak past the pride and overwhelming happiness in his heart.
 

“I’ve ordered a wedding dinner in honor of our newlyweds,” Nikolai said. “The meal has been set out in the officers' mess, if you’ll follow me.”
 

The ship's cooks and the AI had outdone themselves in preparing a generous dinner. More of the precious hydroponic flowers decorated the table, and wine from the captain's private stock flowed freely. Countless toasts to the happy newlyweds were made along with calls for their long and prosperous future together. Johnny gave a short speech. Shalira ate and drank sparingly, as did Mike, but they managed to share a piece of the cake the head chef had personally baked, using an ancient recipe that had been in his family for generations. He'd never had the occasion to use it before and told Mike that he and the AI had puzzled over some of the ingredients, trying to find modern day substitutes the
Andromeda
actually stocked.
 

Finally Nikolai stood to make one last toast. “I’ve moved out of my quarters for tonight, in order to provide a suitable room for a honeymoon. As I recall, the bachelor officers' quarters weren't designed with newlyweds in mind. To Mr. and Mrs. Varone!”
 

Mike felt himself flushing beneath his space tan, but he thanked Nikolai for his kindness and consideration.
 

“I’ll escort you to my private access gravlift and bid you good night, then,” the captain said. “Please, I urge my other guests to remain here, finish your wine and cake.”
 

As they stood to leave, Shalira lifted her bouquet and took a deep breath of the heady rose perfume before addressing the assembled guests. “I’m told on my new world it’s customary for the bride to throw the bouquet amongst the unmarried women, for one lucky girl to catch and become next to wed. I choose instead to give these amazing flowers to the Executive Officer, who made so much happiness possible for me tonight, blending my customs and those of your Sectors.” Looking down the table to where the woman sat, Shalira smiled. “My wedding was like a dream, so perfect—how can I ever thank you?”