Free Winter in Paradise by T C Archer Page A

located in the right hand corner of the cave. The readout indicated his suit had been gone for four hours and had dropped off telemetry link two hours ago. The computer had extrapolated how much power his suit would have used during the last two hours based on the weather conditions outside and subtracted that from how much remained when he lost contact. A red 0% flashed on the monitor.
    Kelly blinked away hot tears and glanced at the furs just inside the tunnel leading to the exit. Two sets hung on the wall. An enviro-suit would maintain his core temperature for ten hours when wearing the furs, but he’d worn only the suit. She turned and batted the weather monitor around to face her. Green numbers glared bright against the black monitor that showed the outside temp the same today as it had been yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that: sixty below zero.
    Her heart constricted. By now, his suit would be drained of all power. She couldn’t imagine the powerful body that had ridden her into a delirious frenzy night after night lying frozen and alone in the ice somewhere. How would she live without ever feeling his touch again, the flutter that always began in her stomach when he looked at her, the feeling in that moment when his cock invaded her? What would she do without him?
    Damn him and the ridiculous honor that compelled him to forego his furs in hopes the enemy would detect his body heat and not search for smaller heat signatures like that of the shielded station…and her. Was this proof why lovers shouldn’t be stationed together? No, the most glorious part of love was undeniable devotion.
    Tears flowed freely. “Byron, Byron, Byron.”
    The need to hear her voice vied with disgust at hearing the rising panic. She was an officer. She refused to break down and cry.
    Think.
    Why had he chosen now to activate the quantum disruptor? Last communication with their superiors had reported the invasion was imminent, but the exact timetable was still unknown.
    Two years ago, their scientists harnessed the wormhole that connected them to the third spiral arm, the quadrant where the Kirsovals, Onyx’s conquering masters, lived. She and Grayson had met during that operation. He was a techie and she was a command officer with the forces that fought off the Kirsovals at the other end of the wormhole. The cursed Kirsovals, the result of a human genetic experiment gone wrong a century ago, had spread like a cancer, conquering every race in their sector of the galaxy. The wormhole provided their avenue of expansion, but Onyx was positioned to block their exit into new territory. They never forgave and never forgot. Onyx’s victory came with a price.
    Eighteen months ago, intel reported Kirsoval ships were headed their way. The Kirsovals couldn’t allow Onyx to throw off the yoke of slavery. To do so meant rebellion throughout the galaxy. The Kirsovals intended to make an example of them.
    Onyx’s salvation lay in the power of the wormhole. If their scientists could draw the wormhole’s energy to power their photon beams, they could destroy the Kirsoval armada before it struck a heavy blow to Onyx. She and Grayson manned the remote outpost in preparation for Operation Slam , an attack on the fleet as it exited the wormhole. Her mission was to deploy the decoy that would draw the Kirsovals’ attention away from Onyx’s photon beam—and their attacking fleet.
    These last five months had been the best and worst of Kelly’s fourteen years in the corps. Grueling workdays had given way to passion filled nights that were overshadowed by the knowledge that this was all they had. She hadn’t pictured dying without Grayson…or him dying without her in the white wasteland that Onyx had become, and she certainly hadn’t considered living without him.
    Kelly took three steps to the comm terminal and spun the scroll through the messages. There had to be a reason he chose now to activate the quantum disruptor. He knew