A month later found the Jerez at Capella Station again, to take on supplies and allow the crew some recreation time.
Captain Heyer and First Lieutenant Ferris alternated who stayed on board in command during their entire week long stay, though most of the crew was allowed leave. Eventually Ferris was off duty for two whole days and found himself heading to the nearest om-friendly bar with King and Private Chan, all dressed in casual civilian clothes, King and Chan both hoping to meet someone else looking for a quick and hopefully passionate encounter.
Ferris was still undecided. He was content with just getting off the ship for a bit and relaxing out of uniform. Capella had its share of brothels which catered to a wide range of tastes, but to Ferris, that just seemed like another form of coercion and he had long given up seeking some company there. A mutual encounter was much more to his liking, although since his episode with King, he realised he had changed. Now he wanted more than just sex, he wanted a friend and a lover. And the Jerez was exactly the wrong place that was ever going to happen. Perhaps it was time to start thinking about a career change.
Chan drifted away to the bar, allowing himself to be pursued by an older man who wanted to buy him a drink, and left the other two alone at the table.
Ferris spoke up. “Don’t feel obliged to keep me company if you want to find some action. I’ll finish my drink here and then I might go in search of a place with some live music.”
King smiled back, unflustered, after all he’d had over a month to come to terms with the fact that the most he and Ferris were going to share was friendship. “I might do that.” He looked over Ferris’ shoulder, raised one eyebrow and said in a low voice, “Oh-oh, don’t look now but there’s some incredibly hot action heading our way, and I think it’s you he’s after. I don’t think he’s even noticed me sitting here.”
“Hullo, Matthew.” The last voice Ferris had expected to hear spoke over his shoulder. He shut his eyes for a second, braced himself and turned around. Daniel Peters stood there, his blond hair cut a little shorter, but his face just as beautiful as he remembered and his blue eyes tentatively seeking his.
Matthew? King raised both eyebrows. Judging by the myriad of emotions crossing Ferris’ face, there was obviously some serious history here.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.” The hot action had finally noticed him and was embarrassed. No, not just embarrassed—jealous. If he was any judge, there had been an instantaneous flash of searing jealousy from the man standing in front of him. He didn’t think Ferris had noticed; he had his own feelings to suppress into a tight package. King looked from one to the other.
“It’s all right, I was just going,” he offered, rising to his feet.
At long last Ferris found his voice and attempted introductions. For one moment he felt a terrible compulsion to say, Daniel meet Danyel, the only two men in this galaxy I want to have sex with, but can’t, but he held it back and muttered, “I’m sorry, King. Er... this is Lieutenant King, from the Jerez. This is—”
“Peters, Agent Peters,” the other man interrupted quickly. Ferris glanced at him, was he undercover again? Peters continued, addressing King. “Don’t go on my account. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
He looked at Ferris again. “I was wondering if you had time to meet me for a drink, or something, tomorrow perhaps? I’d really like to talk to you,” he added with a touch of desperation.
Ferris was already shaking his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Peters looked as if he were prepared to plead further, but then looked sideways at King and swallowed his words. “I’ll say goodnight, then. If you change your mind, I’ve got an office at Patrol headquarters, first floor. Lieutenant,” he nodded at King and left.
King looked questioningly at Ferris. “I know this is none of my business, but would it hurt you that much just to talk to him?”
“I’ll think about it.” Ferris forced a smile and stood up. “I’m going to try and find a bar with some music. You go and have some fun and I’ll see you back at the hotel later.” King looked after him, wondering if he should follow, but he thought the First Lieutenant really looked as if he needed some time to himself. He turned back to the bar and started cruising.
Ferris walked through the streets, his mind still going over and over his recent conversation with Peters. Was King right? Was he being unfair by denying Peters the chance to offload some of his guilt? Why else did he want to speak to him? Why couldn’t he let it go? Why for that matter was he, Ferris, spending so much time thinking about Peters? Maybe running away wasn’t the best answer, perhaps he should just let Peters have his say, and then they could both move on.
The sound of footsteps behind him broke into his overwrought mind. He looked up to find himself in a poorly lit alley with not a familiar building in sight, and turned to face his pursuers. He sighed. It was definitely going to be one of those nights.
There were three of them. Ferris had one of them on the ground before they realised they had made a mistake and picked on a professional soldier. As Ferris proceeded to tackle the other two, one of them drew a stunner from inside his jacket and fired point blank. The Lieutenant went down instantly. The short man replaced his weapon and bent down over his victim, searching for money and anything valuable.
“What’s going on there?” A loud voice came from behind him and the other two assailants who had just managed to get to their feet, faded away rapidly into the shadows. “Hands where I can see them!”
The attacker cursed silently, of all the damned luck, a patrol guard had found them. He thought fast. He tossed the stunner as far away as he could, into the shadows, and in the same movement, spun around to face the guard, raising his hands in the air. “Thank god!” he exclaimed. “I was attacked! I got one of them,” he gestured down at Ferris, “but I think the other two have got away.”
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