Summary: Jade Jordan finds a surprise in her bed, and Jag Panzer makes good on a not-so-idle suggestion.
(Sequel to Knight Squadron: Journey)
***
30 plus years after the Battle of Syria...
Aiden Hunt had established the Borleais base as one defiant rebel stand, an obstacle for the Chiggers and a testament to his sometimes less-than-sane tactics. The General, it was rumored, was not all there. As crazy as he-and his strategy-was, it was working.
The installation was deep into its night shift. It was as close to completely asleep as any military establishment came during a time of war. Pilots, officers, and non-coms who weren't on duty were in their rooms, catching up on much needed rest. For weeks, the Chiggers had buzzed them, testing their defenses and their readiness, wearing them down. They could all feel it: something big was about to happen.
Jade Jordan emerged from one of the narrow personnel lifts into a long, wide corridor on one of the upper floors of the old biotics building. She'd spent the last several hours in conference with General Hunt, Colonel Crane, Shamus, and Lomax, going over battles and battle plans, and Shamus's new psychological warfare schemes. Lomax was there for decoration, mostly, but Jade had come to learn the the big Armesian had plenty of practical information to volunteer about small unit tactics.
She supposed he, too, was a testament to Aiden's lack of good mental health. 'It's working for him so far.'
Jade used the Mystica and her more physical senses to scan the hall for hostile intent, unfamiliar lifeforms, or anything that just didn't feel right. It was a habit she'd developed since the start of the war, and a habit she'd maintained since gaining command of Twin Suns and becoming the infidel embodiment of Ula Yuan, the Chigger Goddess.
Her boots made no sound on the deck, and the only noise that did violate the peaceful stillness of the passage was the gentle hum of the air exchange unit for the building as it worked. The level she was on was carpeted, and the paint on the walls had faded. The light fixtures made some attempt at art. In another lifetime, the floor had once played host to diplomats, ambassadors, and military brass come to witness the progress of the Empire's scientists. Now, it served as the living quarters for a Goddess and her pilots.
A smile touched Jade's lips. Being a goddess did have its moments. Sure, there was the endless paperwork and constantly having to act like the spoiled brat so many people already thought she was. There were the dirty looks, the strange companions, the odd hours, and the training. (One did not just wake up a Goddess, after all.) But four little words... "The Goddess wishes it" ...got her anything she wanted, and she was wreaking havoc on the minds of the enemy. Confusion and distrust among the opponent was a good thing.
She paused at her door, her hand hovering over the pad that would allow her access. There was someone in her room; she could feel him. He was a presence in the Mystica so intense that he was impossible to ignore. Not that she ever tried. This someone was more than welcome in her room whenever he pleased. Jade spared a glance at the chrono strapped to her wrist, and spent a moment wondering at his plan. It was late, and the Twins had some early maneuvers they were going to run through. The rest of her pilots were in their rooms, as close to sleep as they were going to get. Why wasn't he?
She decided that the best way to get an answer would be from him. So she pressed the pad, and the door slid open to reveal her room, lit up. She stepped in and promptly frowned. The door slid shut behind her, and locked automatically.
Jag was stretched out on her bed, his arms tucked under his head and his eyes closed. His breathing was deep and even, his body visibly relaxed. The Colonel was sleeping.
Jade simply stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out what to do. He'd never done this before... Shit, she'd never even seen him so out of uniform! That was mind-boggling enough. No boots, no jacket, not even a familiar flightsuit. Just a sleeveless black tunic and those soft trousers most pilots wore when not on duty.
Finally, she sighed. She was tired. She didn't really care, if she was honest with herself; Jag in her bed, looking so comfortable, didn't bother her in the least. And she'd get over her surprise.
The Goddess leaned over to unstrap her boots, then left them next to the door, in front of the forma chair there. Quickly, she stripped out of her flightsuit, and left it draped over the back of the chair. Quietly, she commanded the room lights down to sleep level, and then she headed for the oversized bed that was a luxury on this base.
Jag was going to share the covers. Of that she was certain. If she had to levitate him using the Mystica, she was crawling under that sheet. Lucky for her, she didn't have to trivialize the Mystica like that.
In the dim light, she saw him roll to his side, tugging down the rumpled bed clothes as he went.
"Do you mind, Great One?" he questioned, that bare hint of amusement in his tone. She suspected she was the only one who noticed it, the only one he ever showed it to.
Jade climbed onto the bed, wriggling under the sheet and the light blanket as she went, taking an absurd amount of pleasure in the feel of the clean sheets against her skin, and noticing that his scent seemed to pervade the air already. She pulled the pillow down to her, and shook it some to fluff it and make it more satisfactory. She flashed Jag her warmest smile.
"Why would I?" she countered. He returned her smile, the expression a little more prominent now that they were completely alone, and laid the covers on her shoulder. She noticed then that he, too, had pulled the sheet up around him. It seemed to her that he was settling in. "Why are you here, though?"
