"John, thank you." The girl opened her eyes. Her slightly sleepy gaze brushed the face of the young man lying beside her on the wide bed. "You're a wizard. It's a good thing I managed to get to you. Are you tense?"
"Yes, Dayna," Shepard said. "I've got this feeling I won't be back on Earth anytime soon."
"But they…" the girl said, propping herself up on her elbows and looking around the dim room. It was early morning, and the dawn sun fought its way through the heavy curtains.
"Exactly," John confirmed. "They kept me in reserve. And now I have this sense that the order will come today or tomorrow."
"Then it's even better that I managed to come to you before they shipped you off… far, far away," the girl said quietly. "You think so?"
"Yes," the young man replied just as quietly. "Us special forces types usually don't get assigned to simple postings… So it'll be something complicated, something messy." John slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Dee, relax. For now, I'm here with you. And the courier from HQ hasn't arrived yet. And he's not knocking on the door."
"John, enough time has passed… after…" the girl began timidly, keeping her voice low.
"Say it, Dayna, say it," Shepard said softly. "I've already… calmed down about that."
"If you want it that way, Johnny. It's been six years, even a bit more, since you came back from Akuze…" the girl said just as timidly, caressing the young man's face with her gaze. "Of course, you haven't been idle all these years, hardly had you left the hospital. But…"
"Dayna… I want to fly. Not just sit on a planet and go from training range to training range," Shepard said, throwing back the blanket and sitting up in bed.
"A range is good for me, but it's not enough," Shepard continued. "And… if I'm not mistaken, the higher powers have something… serious in store for me."
"Aren't you a little too…" Dayna tensed, sure her companion would notice.
"No, Dee. No," Shepard shook his head, pulling on his training pants and getting up from the bed. "Thank you. We had a wonderful night."
"A wonderful one, Johnny. Agreed." Dayna turned onto her other side, sat up in bed. Without looking, she found her robe, stood up, and slipped it onto her overheated body in one motion. "Thank you." She headed for the bathroom door, her bare feet slapping on the plastic tiles. "Johnny, don't mess around in the galley. I'll make everything."
"Dayna…" Shepard said with mild reproach, turning and watching her disappear behind the bathroom door.
"I know, I know. Still, try," came from behind the door.
Shepard smiled in satisfaction. Dayna was in her element. She knew perfectly well he wouldn't let her "mess around in the galley," the little kitchen block of the Systems Alliance Navy captain's bachelor apartment, and that he would make breakfast himself.
An early breakfast. Today was his day off. No ranges were expected, and his official tasks were fully completed. He could dispose of himself in day-off mode.
Dayna tossed aside her robe and, closing the door behind her while turning on the water, stepped onto the enamel shower tray. She was satisfied: once again, John had given her a magical night. They had spent several very pleasant hours close together. Talking, falling silent, holding each other, kissing.
For her, John had been her first love. For him, she had also become his first love. Since the day Dayna and John left the orphanage walls behind, they had maintained a close relationship.
Standing under the jets as they steadily shifted in pressure and temperature, Dayna hummed a simple little tune, turning her back, then her chest, to the spray, and she knew John could hear her singing. He heard it and rejoiced. She knew him… inside out. That was the orphanage's logic: surviving there otherwise was difficult.
John went into the kitchen, turned on the stove, and took containers of semi-finished food from the cupboards.
A few minutes, and a hearty breakfast was warming up. There was a light sizzling sound: neither he nor Dayna liked anything fried too hard. Just a little, enough to brown.
Taking the pan off the heat, Shepard moved it to a trivet, put the potholder away, and looked at the kettle as it started to "sing" its little song on the boil.
He opened a pack of tea, the kind Dayna liked. He spooned leaves into a cup and added two sugar cubes. His girlfriend wasn't a sweet tooth, but she didn't mind a small, almost negligible sweetness in her favorite drink. Their tastes matched there: John calmly drank the sort of tea she liked, and Dayna, on their rare meetings, didn't mind having the kind of tea he liked.
Plating the casserole, Shepard rummaged in the small fridge. He took out butter and bread and made sandwiches. Bread sliced thin, so it wouldn't break, but also wouldn't turn into those awkward "huge bites," as Dayna put it.
A thin layer of butter, sliced with a sharp knife from a block wrapped in a plastic pack. On top, either cheese or sausage. Not fatty, not smoked, plain.
From a cupboard, the captain took out a basket with cookies and hard candies. Dayna liked both. He knew her tastes well, guessing she was aware of his preferences too. When she cooked, he was calm, because Dayna read his mood clearly and completely, down to the details, and never made a mistake about what to put on the table from his rather modest list of culinary preferences to make John content.
The murmur and splash of water gave way to the hum of a hair dryer: Dayna dried her hair first, only a little, so it stayed slightly damp. She didn't like overdrying it. She always tried to comb it out.
She liked simple hairstyles. With her sports career, there wasn't much choice, though there had been a few events where Dayna appeared with a model haircut.
Shepard liked it, and she knew he'd accept her any way she was.
Orphanage life didn't incline anyone toward excess, and Dayna had been training in sports schools since she was seven, constantly traveling for training camps, practice, and competitions.
Routine, restrictions, precision, clarity: to her it was as natural as breathing air.
"You've already made breakfast." The girl appeared in the bathroom doorway, wearing a T-shirt and training pants.
Her slippers were open-toed. Dayna never fussed over pedicures, but she respected manicures as far as sports code requirements allowed.
Stopping at the table, she hugged Shepard as he came up to her, pressed against him, kissed his cheek, and went still.
"Thank you, Johnny. You're my joy," she said softly.
The captain nodded, wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close, lifted her, carried her closer to an empty chair, set her down, and slid her in toward the table.
Dayna nodded. She liked the whole gesture, and the sight and aroma of the food satisfied her completely.
"John, sit. Let's have breakfast. What are the plans for today?"
"I'm free, Dayna," the young man replied.
"I don't have any urgent business either. So?" the girl looked at Shepard inquisitively.
"I'd suggest, Dee, that we spend the day together… Well…" he glanced toward the bed.
"I don't mind, John," Dayna nodded and began to eat. "I don't mind." She chewed a portion of casserole. "Tasty. Thank you, Johnny."
"Glad you liked it." Shepard armed himself with fork and knife as well and started eating the casserole. "I poured the tea into the small cups. Or…"
"No need for big ones, Johnny," Dayna smirked, tossing her head slightly so her ponytailed hair lashed her shoulders. "Not today."
"Alright," the captain nodded.
After breakfast, Dayna went out onto the balcony, where she usually spent fifteen minutes in complete stillness in the mornings.
Shepard didn't know whether it was meditation or just his girlfriend's habit. He wasn't interested in digging into details: Dayna might have her reasons to do things this way, so let her do it.
Through the glass he saw her sit in a wicker chair and, taking a loose, relaxed posture, freeze. She had probably closed her eyes.
While she "meditated," Shepard cleared the table, washed the dishes, and set the plates and cups to dry. He didn't look at Dayna. He respected her right to a calm "detachment from the world." She'd come in when she wanted.
"Your tension has eased a little, Johnny," Dayna purred when they lay down on the bed, holding each other. "Probably…"
"Probably it's only thanks to you, Dee," Shepard said quietly.
"Thank you, John." Dayna rubbed the tip of her nose against Shepard's and kissed him on the lips. "I'm glad and satisfied."
"Me too." The captain returned the kiss and hugged her tighter. "We'll lie around…"
"Yes. Until we get tired of it. And we won't get tired of it today for a very long time," Dayna declared.
And that was the plain truth.
They lay on the big double bed and forgot, very reliably, about everything in the world. Except themselves.
A ring at the door caught them… off guard.
By the change in Dayna's face, Shepard understood she had already prepared for the worst that could happen: a visit from the courier from HQ.
The captain rose silently from the bed, pulled on a T-shirt and training pants, and slipped his feet into his slippers.
He went to the door and opened it.
A courier sergeant stood on the threshold.
"Captain Shepard. A packet for you." The arrival recognized the officer and handed over an envelope. He waited while the apartment owner signed the receipt sheet. He snapped a salute, turned, and "poured" down the stairs, ignoring the elevator.
John closed the door and opened the packet. He took out a plastic sheet folded in half.
Combat orders. Not ordinary, but combat. Clear and incomprehensible. "Report at such-and-such time to such-and-such place." More precisely, report to Division HQ at Arcturus Station. Exactly at 23:00 today. Standard time.
"A summons?" came Dayna's quiet voice from behind him. "May I?" She seized the unfolded plastipaper sheet. "A summons. I knew it," bitterness flashed through the girl's voice. "I'll see you off."
Instead of answering, Shepard turned to her, hugged her, and kissed her forehead. She pressed trustingly to him and hugged him back.
"So that's the end of our… free days," she said quietly. "For a long time… they're over."
Shepard didn't nod. He only held her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head. He knew she needed and wanted that kiss right now more than any words. And he wasn't wrong. Dayna, who had started to sniffle, raised her head and fixed him with a tender, questioning look.
"John… come back… to me. I… will wait. And write to me… please!"
Shepard nodded silently, understanding that any spoken words from him would be received wrongly by Dayna right now. Only this nod. She, like no one else, could read her companion at very deep levels.
Satisfied with John's reaction, Dayna released him, stepped back, turned, and went to the kitchen.
"Incurable," Shepard thought. "She'll pack a whole bag of food now. And it's pointless to stop her."
John had already proven that to himself more than once. No, if he refused to take the bag, she wouldn't be offended. She'd only close herself off. And a closed-off Dayna was… unacceptable. He would do anything to make her open again.
She knew that.
Packing his emergency case, Shepard methodically checked against his list. He checked expiration dates and confirmed packaging integrity. Combat orders demanded such a procedure. No one knew where he might have to go from Arcturus Station.
From that station, where government structures and the Systems Alliance Navy's staff sectors were located, ships could be sent to corners of the galaxy so forgotten by God that… returning soon was something you had to forget about for a long time. So a prepacked case, and Shepard had one in his bachelor apartment too, would come in handy even if the question weren't about leaving for Arcturus.
Finishing the case, Shepard put it by the door.
He opened the wardrobe doors and dressed in the standard uniform of a Systems Alliance Navy special forces officer. He didn't attach the N7 insignia to its place. No need. Those who needed to knew his qualification level. And the rest didn't need to know it right now.
Dayna got ready too. A modest plain dress, a small purse. A sports career teaches organization: she dressed quickly and didn't waste time on full makeup. Just a little "touch-up."
In his girlfriend's eyes, Shepard easily read tension and anxiety.
"Military spaceport?" she asked, bending to straighten a slightly shifted strap on her shoe.
"Yes." Shepard closed his omni-tool display. "The aircar is already waiting."
Dayna straightened, nodded, picked up her purse, and took John by the elbow.
They went out of the building.
Autumn. Warm, a little rainy. Rain was promised by evening; for now, the sky was only just starting to frown, confirming the weather forecasts.
Settling into the hired aircar's cabin, Shepard put his arm around Dayna and tapped a sensor on the console to authorize the vehicle to follow its route.
Of course, he could have taken manual control himself. His status allowed him to pilot such vehicles. But Dayna was too tense, and he didn't want to let her out of his arms.
No one knew when he would be able to return to her, so let Dayna stay close as long as it was possible at all.
Holding the girl, Shepard watched the blocks of houses far below drift by, and people like tiny bugs hurrying along streets and lanes.
Chester, a small town on the River Dee, was left far behind in only a few minutes. British distances were, of course, considerable, but compared to other countries they were fairly moderate.
Dayna was silent. She was always silent at moments like these, living through sharpness and uncertainty inside herself.
To her, John was familiar and precious. She didn't want to unsettle him unnecessarily. She was staying here. Ahead of her was a string of training sessions, two camps, and the next regional competition in… what did it matter how long now? And him… what awaited John? Could anyone say in advance? That was why she didn't try.
She had waited for him after Akuze, visited him in the hospital, and then they met regularly after he was placed in Systems Alliance command reserve. Specialists like John were always kept in reserve. Sometimes they held them there for a long time, sometimes not. She was glad John was here, close by, on Earth.
Yes, he'd been bounced around the planet. Service, all that. But Dayna was happy John didn't often leave the atmospheric shield. Not very often, yet.
And now… now, ahead, as she felt quite clearly, was a long separation.
A shuttle awaited John, and then… then Arcturus, the Alliance's governmental station, not a place you could just wander into. But John's status allowed him to fly there calmly and freely. If needed, of course. John didn't fly anywhere "just because." Only if there was necessity. And orders.
Sighing, the girl rested her head on John's shoulder.
Ahead, the towers of the British military spaceport were already taking shape. A numbered restricted facility. Still, for those seeing someone off, everything there was like in a civilian spaceport.
She would have to watch John for a long time as he walked toward the tunnel that led to the shuttle hall. That was the last thing she had seen back when he flew out on the urgent call to Akuze… and then returned from there. On a medical transport. And immediately became a long-term patient in a military hospital.