Coalescence (Dragonfire Station Book 3)

doors closed, Nevitt gestured Fallon to the seating area. “Judging by that bow, you’re about to ask me for something big. I assume you’re sufficiently recovered to follow up on whatever that might be?” She eased into a tall-backed chair with the air of a monarch sitting on a throne.
Fallon resisted the urge to get a good look at the captain’s living space. She kept her attention fully on Nevitt as she settled across from her.
“Yes. It was kind of you to give me time to get my bearings. But it’s been over a week, and we can’t lose any more time.”
“Of course. So say whatever it is you so clearly do not want to say.”
Fallon considered leading into it gradually, but doubted Nevitt would appreciate the evasiveness. So she dove right in. “I want to set up a rebel headquarters here on Dragonfire.”
Nevitt’s eyebrows moved toward her hairline. “Is that all?” Her quiet words blistered with sarcasm.
“Before I left here, you said you wanted to join the upper echelons of the PAC, so you could make changes for the greater good. This is your chance.”
Despite the bombshell, Nevitt remained composed. The time she took to respond was the only indication of the magnitude of what Fallon had laid on her.
“And you have a plan to do that?” Nevitt sounded skeptical.
“Not a precise plan. More like an agenda of potential tactics, each of which will require their own contingencies. But I need to get your approval before we go deep into the logistics.”
“What if I say no?” Nevitt’s gaze didn’t waver.
Fallon met her eyes. “Then we select another, less ideal site. Someplace less protected, where we have fewer assets and allies. But we’ll still go after Blackout.”
“And if I say yes?”
“Then you’ll be putting the lives of everyone on this station in jeopardy. You’ll become an enemy of the state. And you might just save the PAC from intergalactic war.”
The quiet of Nevitt’s quarters roared in Fallon’s ears as she waited for a reply.
“Agreed.” Nevitt snapped the word out like a stinger blast. “But I have some conditions.”
“State your terms.”
“Protecting this station and the people on it will be among your top priorities. You will remain security chief here.” She ticked off the points on her fingers as she went. “You will not fail to fix whatever’s wrong with Blackout. And, finally, I will be consulted on all matters regarding the safety of Dragonfire and the progress of your mission—” she broke off and corrected herself, “—our mission.”
Fallon opened her mouth to speak but Nevitt cut her off. “Don’t give me a bunch of scrap about top secret protocols or giving me plausible deniability. If you want to operate on my station, I’m going to be part of the team. That’s not negotiable.”
Fallon met her captain’s narrowed eyes. “Agreed.”
Nevitt’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. Or surprise, perhaps. Fallon had never seen such an uncertain expression on Nevitt, so she wasn’t entirely sure.
Nevitt’s brow smoothed, and her lips curved into a smirk. “I can’t believe you agreed to that.”
The absurdity of it all struck Fallon, and she laughed. To her even-greater surprise, Nevitt chuckled.
“Considering that my team has stolen data, broken into a PAC base, and taken down an illegal research lab manufacturing treaty-prohibited items, I’d say your lack of proper security clearance is a minor offense. And it makes sense that you should be informed.”
Nevitt’s amusement faded to seriousness. “It sounds like you need to fill me in on some things before we proceed.”
For the next two hours, Fallon did her best to bring Nevitt into the loop on all of Avian Unit’s activities and intentions. Nevitt’s expression grew increasingly grave.
When Fallon finished, Nevitt said, “There’s one more condition I want to add.”
“If it’s one I can’t agree to, it would put me in a very tricky position, given all that you now know.”
Nevitt ignored her. “When you’ve taken control of Blackout and gotten things sorted, I will be part of the new administration.”
Fallon wouldn’t have had it any other way. “Agreed.”
Getting things hammered out with Nevitt left Fallon feeling energized. She decided that while she was riding high on that success, she’d handle something she’d already put off for too long. She’d made excuses for herself, mainly that she was supposed to avoid excessive stress while her head healed or that she was too busy, but the truth was that she just didn’t know how to approach such a dicey situation that involved…feelings. Ugh. Not her forte.
When she walked into the maintenance bay—or the “shop,” as the mechanics called it—she saw Wren sliding beneath a propulsion chamber, which must have been removed from some ship. That would be one heck of a repair. Fallon felt a slight chill. The shop was always just a couple degrees below comfortable, for the benefit of all the expensive technology within.
Fallon imagined polymechrine filling her spine. She’d avoided Wren since returning to the station, not knowing how to deal with the mountains that stood between them. But now that she was about to become deeply entrenched in everyday life aboard Dragonfire, she needed to deal with the issue.
She’d rather face a deep-space pirate attack.
She picked up an axial microtuner from a tool tray and squatted next to Wren’s feet, which protruded from beneath the hulking propulsion system.
“Here.” She extended the tool beneath it, toward Wren.
Her former wife glided out from under the machinery on an anti-grav creeper, her expression guarded. She lay there, wordless.
“Thought I’d give you the one you asked for this time. Better late than never, right?”
Fallon and Wren had first met in this very spot. Wren had called out to her colleague for an axial tuner, but Fallon had mistakenly given her a radial one instead.
Wren’s face stayed unnaturally still as she sat up, then pulled herself to her feet. “You remember that?”
“I remember everything. Want to have lunch?”
Fallon sat across from her not-wife at the Bennite restaurant as they sized each other up.
“You remember everything?” Wren’s