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His father smirked. “Heard the commander’s reputation for no-nonsense, have you?”

“Yes, sir!” Zander answered around the lump in his throat. Who this side of the Milky Way hadn’t? They talked about
his
reputation?

One gray fuzzy eyebrow rose in question. “Ah, what does my womanizing son think of the lovely Commander Ashe? You have my permission to speak freely. In fact, be at ease,
pilot
.”

“Speak freely, sir?” he asked, double-checking before relaxing his stance.

Zander watched his father dim the glass, giving them more privacy. “Whatever you believe is best, sir,” he managed after clearing his throat. Arguing never got him far, so he’d learned acquiescence -- standard part of being in the IGO.

“What I believe? You ain’t done what I believed since…” Captain Reyes trailed off.

“Go ahead, Dad, finish it. Go on.”

His father rolled his eye, and slumped against his desk. “Since your mother died. Zan, I can’t keep protecting you. The mess Delta team got into with that damn mutiny… the generals ain’t pleased…”

He sagged like a sack of potatoes, and rubbed his face. He pinned Zander with a worn stare. “I need you to get this last assignment right. Ashe has been in charge of Alpha for a long time. Hell, no one even refers to
The Explorer
as part of my fleet anymore, it’s hers.”

“She’s got a tough reputation,” Zander agreed. “So why assign me to her?”

“Let me tell you about Ashe,” his father said, waving his hand to silence him. “She’s a cold fish in an ocean of sharks. She’s got an amazing ability to survive -- killer tactical, fighting --”

“While I admire her dedication, I find her leadership to be sterile, insensitive and callous,” Zander interrupted bitterly. The rumors about Ashe slicing off her left arm if it suited her mission didn’t bother him as much as the ones about her sacrificing any personnel who didn’t gel.

“Efficient,” Captain Reyes growled with approval in his grin. “I think that’s the word you’re seeking -- extremely efficient. Commander Ashe has talent. But you’re right. She’s ruthless. You, on the other hand, ain’t got that particular trait.”

“And you want me under her?” Incredulity slackened his face.

“I want you under her command, not
under
her, son,” his father said with a chortle. “Get your urges under control for the sake of your career. I won’t be around forever.”

“Yes, sir,” Zander answered, with less than the required enthusiasm.

“You’ll do fine,” Captain Reyes grunted. One bushy eyebrow raised high above its corresponding patch. “You’re my kid.”

“Yes, sir,
Dad
…”

His father laughed again. “Exactly.” He stalked around his desk and lowered himself into his captain’s seat. He stared across the short, smooth table, grinning with something he must’ve thought was pride. “Commander Ashe is getting more than a womanizer -- much more in you, Zan. You’re the best damn pilot off
The Discovery
.”

“Yes, sir!” Zander snapped to attention again.

“Dismissed… son.” His father turned to his screen.

Zander walked out of the cabin, his head buzzing with his new assignment. Sure, he’d been involved with two women, but the reputation of his womanizing hasn’t been all that accurate. Just like the other less than stellar hits on his reputation.

Bounced from Omega team to Alpha, some would see it as an advancement, but Zander had heard it directly from his father. A promotion this wasn’t. There were four teams on board
The Discovery
spaceship: Alpha, Delta, Omega, and Sigma. Commander Ashe’s team, Alpha, was often sent out on investigations pertaining to homicides, questionable suicides and mass killings. Their missions didn’t really affect him. As a pilot he just steered the spacecraft to the designated coordinates.

He headed down the ramp to the commons area situated in the center of the spaceship. It held two of four cafeterias, an observation deck, and lounge areas on each side of the ground floor. Slick furnishings, a bar, video games helped the crew relax between assignments.

He’d been reared on
The Discovery
. He’d been stationed on others, but he still felt this was home, though no one who passed him treated him like family.

Many of the female soldiers giggled as he passed. Some of the more seasoned ones let their eyes take snapshots of his face. His handsomeness had been a double edged sword. Too good looking to be tough, his fellow males had to test him. So handsome, the women wanted to taste him.

“Hi, Zander.” A flirty blonde laughed with a small wave as she strutted by.

He didn’t blink or even acknowledge her. His father’s words burned in his ears. This time
had
to be different. He’d walk the straight and narrow. His immature pranks trailed behind him like an albatross that kept him from soaring.

And this pilot wanted to fly.

Chapter 3

The Discovery

“Why in the name of all things cosmic does 0600 come around so early?” Zander coughed out as he bolted upright in bed. Being back in his father’s extensive quarters made him smile. He’d grown up in this very room. All too soon, he’d have to leave it again. “A.I.: alarm off.”

The squealing halted. He tossed the thin cotton sheet to the floor and climbed out of the foam mattress bed. Stretching, he untied his hair and grunted at the hour. He worked better at night. On Omega’s team he’d done the evening shift. But orders were orders. He had to be in front of Commander Ashe by 0700.

He listened for sounds of his father, but the empty feeling of the place told him he was alone. “Theme: Night on Earth Prime -- Northwest Forest.”

The walls faded into velvety dark sky, dotted with diamonds. Wolves howling and owls cooing erupted across the room

He slung his water-resistant earpiece over his ear and entered the shower. A spray of cobalt streams crashed into his body, covering him with foam. In minutes, it vanished. A chilly glop of shampoo dropped onto his hair from the metallic tube. He briskly washed his hair and took the required amount of water to rinse. He closed his eyes to the harsh but somehow soothing blast of the shower’s skin dryer. He left the tiny circular shower to go to the mirror where he checked his face and shaved.

Somewhat refreshed, he dressed quickly in the standard gunmetal gray of the IGO body hugging uniform. He checked his reflection. He wanted to make a good impression, but he didn’t want to come off fulfilling the IGO uniform-model bullshit rumors either.

He exited his father’s quarters. Turning right, he headed to the cafeteria for a fast breakfast. His stomach churned, but he would eat. After years of transfers, he knew the first day on board always required fuel.

Zander grabbed a cup of hot, black coffee, whole oat toast with Martian jelly. He took them up the spiraling staircase until he reached the observation deck. Below him the low rumbling of conversations flowed. Hints of alcohol, roasted teas, and burnt coffee provided a crazy cocktail of aromas as late shift clashed with morning moodiness.

He sat cross-legged on the deck and stared out at the stars. He winced at the bite of Martian jelly and sipped his scalding coffee to chase off the spice.

Below him a dozen colonies worked to tame the harsh Martian environment. Tethered to the Mars outpost several thousand miles above the planet’s orange, arid surface, the spaceship remained distant from those trials of human endurance.

But it wouldn’t save him from the tests of endurance
The Explorer
had in store for him. He gritted his teeth. Let the bastards bring it.

After gulping down the last of his coffee, he turned to look at the growing number of identical uniforms the soldiers wore. The only differences ranged in color. His gunmetal marked him as a pilot, but a generic one. Once he got to his new spacecraft, they’d give him his midnight black one. Just like the fantastic creature threading through the throng.

She caught his eye, her ebony suit streaking like a rubber ball through the multicolored uniforms. That woman had the sexiest walk he’d ever seen. The statuesque beauty couldn’t be more than five feet six in her boots, but she more than made up for it in her attitude. Zander wanted to know where she worked on
The Explorer
. Then he caught himself and laughed. He didn’t need to know.

“You almost had me,” he whispered. He stood up. The rousing heat throbbing in his gut warned that the woman had snagged his hormones. He sighed, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from following her through the cafeteria. Entertaining her on any level would be unwise. Yeah, that gorgeous woman could cause him trouble. And he hadn’t even boarded his new spacecraft yet. Wonderful.

* * *

The Explorer

A breath before 0700 hours, Zander stood on the command floor of
The Explorer
with the weight of at least twenty pairs of eyes on him -- all senior members of the crew. He’d been allowed onto the spacecraft, with two beefy ebony-clad security detail following him. They stood off from him, hands positioned over their stunners ready for anything as a reason to fire.

Zander kept his attention ahead on the two metallic doors. Right at seven hundred, the doors parted like a silver river and he was escorted into the presence of a goddess.

“I’m Commander Ashe,” the husky-voiced beauty said, pinning him with icy green eyes. Blonde hair swept up into a tightly coiled bun made her appear taller. “Welcome, Pilot Reyes, to
The Explorer
.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Come in. We have much to discuss.” She spun on her boot heel and stalked back to her chair. Over her shoulder, she said to the two goons, “Done, gentlemen.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they answered in complete sync.

Oh please
. That seriousness made him antsy. In fact, everyone behaved a bit too stressed.

The closed door sliced off the curious glares. A long, slick gray table stretched the length of the room with five chairs dotted around it. A projection screen covered the wall at the table’s end.

Commander Ashe sat down in her chair at the far end of the room. She gestured to the woman seated to her right. “This is Sergeant Simmons. This is Pilot Reyes.”

The sergeant stood up and turned to face him.
Her
. Her ebony uniform skimmed a curvy body too wicked to ever be allowed in such a standard boring piece of clothing. She wore it like lingerie -- full of powerful femininity that somehow didn’t diminish her steeliness.

“Chief of security,” she said, extending her hand in offering.

When his hand covered hers, she jumped. It made him blink in surprise. Wow. A real red-hot wire this Simmons.

He shot her his practiced super-meltdown grin -- the one that made women melt into puddles at his boots. Sergeant Simmons didn’t smile. Her eyes bored into him and Zander had the feeling she looked through him, right to the rapid heartbeat she’d caused. He made himself meet her unflinching gaze and not allow the swell of her cleavage to trap him.

Commander Ashe interjected into the weighty silence, “Sergeant Simmons will be your direct supervisor, Pilot Reyes. As I am sure you’re aware, we’re on yellow alert. Your addition to the team at this time, well, we’ll make the best with what we have.”

“Ma’am?” he asked, yanking his eyes from the lovely sergeant. He coughed to clear the hunk of
wow
in his throat, trying to wrap his head around what his new commander had said. It might’ve been important.

Pilots didn’t usually report directly to the chief of security, but rather to a junior commander. Why would the commander place him in the direct line of serious temptation? Sergeant Simmons could melt butter in the frozen tundra on Saturn just by wearing a bikini. Her presence toyed with him in ways he had to struggle to fight off. Ashe paled by comparison.

He shook his head slowly from side to side. He had to stop mentally drooling about the security chief. Failure wasn’t an option for him. Everything rode on his performance -- his father’s reputation, his career, and his pride.

“You may not be aware, but we’re on an outgoing mission to the penal colony on Titan,” the commander explained, tenting her hands on the table. “We’re responsible for getting three convicted traitors there. The sergeant will handle your transition to the crew. Please be aware that your assignment onboard can be revoked under IGO regulation six-thirteen.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he answered so loudly both women winced. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“Your hair is longer than IGO standards,” Sergeant Simmons commented, giving him a long, searching look from the heel of his boots up to the top of his head. Her eyes seemed to touch him, arouse him, make him want to push her onto the sleek glossy table, unzip her uni and…

“IGO PH Regulation ten states that discrimination is strictly prohibited between female and male personnel,” he blurted out, hoping his superior officers couldn’t see his growing erection.

She nodded, and lifted her computerized pad. “Yes, but it’s a security risk,” she snapped in reply.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, feeling he’d pushed her hard enough. The sergeant sought a reason to dislike him. Well, his hair had always been a point of contention with the higher ups.

Commander Ashe’s eyes swung from him to the good sergeant. Did he imagine she smirked a bit at them? “Dismissed.”

“Follow me,” Sergeant Simmons said coldly, stalking out of the meeting room.

“Yes, ma’am.” With a round, tight bottom like hers though, he’d follow her to Pluto.

He longed to touch her just to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. Her brunette hair was wound high above her head. A few playful strands had escaped and danced in the air -- a stark contrast to her steely demeanor.

No. That’s all hormones, not logic
. The mental rebuke sobered him. He moved his attention -- with difficulty -- to his surroundings.

“That was the command floor,” Sergeant Simmons said as she entered the turbo lift. “I’ve arranged for your shift to commence at 0600, the same as mine. Your new uniform and quarters are located in the B-level of housing. Yours is B-1083. Use the craft’s GPS system or A.I. to get you there.”