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    Ebook212 pages3 hours

    Tanner

    By Sharon L Reddy

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Tanner described herself as a "crusty old non-com," then Swede made her an officer. It was a "dirty trick," but the only way he could give them the runner slot without making Kev one. The Tom Cat told them they weren't really welcome, but he'd been waiting for them. He made it back after he clawed off several more spies and Tanner and Kev learned all of what he needed to heal.

    Danton Lamb Tanner: "Oh, yes. Peace from missiles that kill children on their playgrounds and in their beds. Peace from the question why, for which we have no answer because Beska has never answered it. Peace from learning the heart of neighborhoods by seeing them... cracked open, that nurturing shell broken and the young life within them filling gutters with their blood, and the dying promise of their futures. Yes, Powell, more than anything, I want peace."

    Sharon Reddy:
    "This is about a family formed in a war of attrition. It segues from fighting spies to interstellar politics. The boys were fun to write."

    About books by Sharon L Reddy, reviewers said:

    recluse:
    "The author is a fine wordsmith who possesses a marvelous imagination."

    Raven's Reviews:
    "...unique, fast-paced style ...allows one to read almost as fast as one can think."
    "...romantic brain-candy... If you like almost any kind of men at all, you'll like hers..."

    Mistress of the Dark Path:
    "...you will also notice your mind is stimulated."
    "...designed for a more educated and worldly crowd."

    R. Cagle:
    "I got hooked immediately."

    Marji Holt:
    "The characters came out of the books and into my dreams."

    Twenty-four titles. Start your collection today.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSharon L Reddy
    Release dateJun 6, 2011
    ISBN9781583385098
    Tanner
    Author

    Sharon L Reddy

    I write science fiction romance, but it's the literary definition of romance. Swashbuckle, Baby, in "white tie and tails." High romantic fantasies, million word mysteries, family sagas, statesmen, gurus and wise immortals. Loving dads, sons and brothers, and of course, the women who understand and appreciate them. High fashion and landscape design. Materials and art, the books are built to be read very fast, specifically for the way women visualize. Research on the soap operas of the fifties, trends in international populist (fan) fiction, technological development, and above all, long-term entertainment value. It has to be good in reruns. The intent is create a body of work that's just fun to read, in spurts or bursts over decades. Ethics, responsibility, nobless oblige, the power of money, the use of prestige. I write good guys win. Period. They're fantasies for women. Men with lots of muscle say, "I love you," a lot.Most of what is currently published was written in the first decade, 1991-1999, before Mother Nature changed my personal definition of "mature audience." I hope you'll remain with me as I and my work mature and enjoy the second decade of my work now being published, as well.I've lived many places and visited far more. My current residence is on a high mesa in New Mexico, in the United States, where I am engaged in a habitat restoration project.Explanation of the Pilots Group:Some of these works have been sitting on my hard drive close to twenty years and they're no fun for anyone just sitting there. They're exactly what they've been titled, pilots, like for a TV series. It is my intent and hope that other writers will choose to continue the adventures of the characters. There are only three restrictions. Don't kill off my heroes, don't make good guys bad guys and give my story credit if you publish. Yes, you may publish and make money on your stories. I loved reading and writing fan fiction, but the limitations on it could be frustrating, so... Have fun with these works that specifically don't have them.

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      Book preview

      Tanner - Sharon L Reddy

      Sharon L Reddy

      Tanner

      ©2011

      Target Yonder

      Smashwords Edition

      ISBN 978-1-58338-509-8

      Cover background

      NASA, ESA, STScI and the

      Hubble Heritage Collaboration

      Chapter One

      Hard-won time between two missions, they needed it. They felt ragged-edged from high-stress patrolling. They knew everyone thought they were crazy to request transfer to blockade runners, but a runner ran and it was over for awhile. Patrol was day after day of watching for the sudden appearance of a group, who had their own definition of blockade.

      Tanner looked down at Kev and smiled. He was practically bouncing. R and R to him meant music, people and a party. She'd promised one. She was taking him where he'd find one. The Shern Funplex was the right place to start. She pulled him close to her side and glared down a nine-stripe marine whose ideas about him had nothing to do with duty.

      You didn't like him.

      I sure didn't, Sweetie. He's big, hard and the type who pulls rank for company. I don't plan on sitting some place while you eat dinner, provide pleasant conversation and dodge passes.

      Mmm, my lady fair.

      You're warped, kid. I'm too old to be your mother. The nice thing is you mean it.

      Tanner, getting me excited in public is not polite.

      Wading through the crowd around you may get me in fights, pretty boy, but someone is going to have to rescue you.

      I hope not, but I do appreciate it. I won't be flirting and I won't notice they are.

      No, you won't. You'll get into some deep scientific discussion, get excited, start to glow and the moths will start circling. A half-hour later you'll be cornered and the only one still thinking about science.

      Space troops on leave from Hell do seem to have a preoccupation with physical contact.

      To which you aren't necessarily adverse, but I seriously doubt you'll notice an invitation until it becomes very direct.

      Open skies make me nervous.

      Tanner squeezed the hand of the beautiful red-haired young man beside her. Swede had paired them when she'd lost her co and he was a too young grad from training. He didn't look a day older than the sixteen he'd been then, but his beauty had somehow deepened in the four years they'd been on patrol. He lifted her hand to his cheek and smiled.

      Tanner wouldn't allow their relationship to get exclusive, or rather stay that way. It wouldn't reduce the loss if one of them died, but she'd been through the loss of one who was everything to her. She wouldn't allow it to happen to her again and she wouldn't let it happen to Kev.

      Oh, sparkling new brass coming. I'm blinded, a JG.

      Don't start, Tanner.

      She didn't. The new brass did. He didn't like Kev's salute. Tanner explained they'd been on patrol four years and were probably out of practice, then asked politely what was wrong with it. Kev groaned.

      Tanner showed mercy on the young JG and only made him give them five minutes of in-depth training in saluting. She had the poor fellow standing on the walk teaching her to salute. Every veteran who went by was chortling. The kid had gotten more than he bargained for. Every veteran who went by also saluted. He wouldn't do it again, and having learned the lesson, had a better chance of surviving his first mission. He'd listen to his noncom.

      They'd almost reached their chosen destination when their call units buzzed. Tanner swore and acknowledged. Kev just grinned and reversed directions. He didn't notice two other people reversed when he did, but Tanner did. She rather liked the dreamy-eyed corporal, but the civvie bothered her.

      Kev, you've got two tails. One's a cute thing who really hasn't noticed she is following you. The other is a civvie who's raising the hair on the back of my neck. I don't think his interest is personal.

      It's been four years, seven since they found me. They have to know I'm not going to design weapons for anyone.

      Sweetie, he doesn't look like the type to be interested in whether or not you do anything. He's got credit symbols in his eyes when he looks at you.

      You think he knows someone else wants me.

      Yep, and my neck hairs say Beska.

      She grabbed the corp and put her on Kev's other side. The corp was surprised, but got the idea fast. She recognized the wary look in Tanner's eyes.

      Tanner, Flightwing Three til oh-six this morning.

      Tinse, Flightwing Six. R and R for ten days.

      I'm Kev.

      Nice to meet you. What's up?

      Kev is Kevin Oras Andeline Vanderbilt Holiday.

      I know, the station kid.

      Ouch. Yes, the station kid.

      He upset lots of people when he refused to work R and D, enlisted, turned down off training and qualified for maintenance. They were so mad they sent him straight from training to patrol at sixteen and put him with the crustiest old noncom still on patrol status, me.

      A good bread is known by the texture of its crust and you are not old.

      I like her, Tanner. She won't let you get away with pleading age either.

      Kids! Anyway, there are evidently still some out there who want the kid who spent eleven years taking care of himself and whose only company was an ed comp.

      Beska pays well for information, assassination, probably kidnapping. Let's see, was it thirty-six degrees?

      Thirty-four, but that's deceptive. Once you have all the basics, it's just adding a little bit of extra knowledge in a particular field. Like it only took four more courses to qual for one in power tech after I finished one in A M systems engineering. Nobody would have paid any attention if the station ed comp hadn't been accredited for the original personnel. When it transferred its memory store to the U comp on Fielding, the accreditation was still in effect and they dumped all those degrees on me. Didn't tell me who my parents actually were or how I ended up alone in the only piece of the station with life support and food and water systems operating. They handed me four possibles out of eighty-some as my name and a string of letters to go behind it.

      I remember. I was about fifteen at the time and you were so cute. There was quite a stir about it. The Beska let the station wander through the blockade because it was just an old derelict with no one and nothing of interest aboard. It was headed right for Fielding and they thought it would be more hassle than asset as salvage to us. If we hadn't needed the materials so bad, we'd have just blasted it. Then they found you.

      And opening the hatch triggered the ed comp's transmittal to Fielding U and I was stuck.

      And they went crazy. You weren't twenty-five years behind. Your Ph.D. work was in advance of current tech. You were so scared of all those media people.

      I had only vague memories of one and there were hundreds pushing, shoving and yelling things at me. I never really wanted to go back to being alone, but I wanted to hide.

      Every girl I knew, some of the boys and at least my parents wanted to grab you and give you a place to hide. My dad was so mad at the way you were being treated, we were careful not to talk to him for an hour after he'd seen a cast about you. He actually broke the vid screen once. He got furious and threw a cup through it. Mom told him he was wonderful and bought him a new cup. My sisters and I got a new screen. Would you like to meet him? He'd like to meet you. He had an odd childhood too. He was the only child of steaders on Barley and didn't meet anyone his own age until he was nineteen and got drafted. He says going from having physically met eleven people and talking to about forty via comm to a barracks was very difficult. He once said he thought it had been Hell, until he saw what you were going through.

      He's here?

      Mm, hm. Tosca is my home world and I'm from right here in Deccatown. Went to primary about eight blocks from here. Dad moved out to the country when Mom was killed in the Cooper Day missile attack while she was at work. Tanner, you guys need a place to disappear to. Our place is available. Ours because my two sisters and I own a quarter each. Huge old rambling colonial place that Dad made beautiful again. It was built for an extended family and there are six separate suites of rooms. Dad won't let us call them apartments. He says the communal areas are the obvious center of them all, so they're suites or quarters.

      Ugh, quarters makes me think of barracks.

      Us too, Tanner. We always call them 'suites.' Do watch Daddy, though. He's liable to defend your privacy with a blaster. My sisters, Linsy and Dell, are home, but they won't mind, or bug you either.

      You're all home at once?!

      There's a fairy godmother somewhere in fleet org. Tomorrow is Daddy's birthday and we were all due leave, all close to Tosca and all of us got it. Say yes and I won't have to miss the party.

      Why would you miss the party, Tinse?

      Because I'd be watching the guy watching you, Kev. I don't like him at all.

      I haven't even noticed this person who has you two bristling.

      That's why you get watched. Ten years alone, three sequestered in a gov facility and four with just me on patrol does not give you good people instincts, Love.

      Fleet office?

      We got buzzed. It's probably about our request to transfer to a blockade runner slot.

      You requested a runner slot?!

      At least as a runner there are times you sleep through a night.

      Ooh, Flightwing Three is a tense posting and, if you did four on it, you were outer-ring posted. Yes, I might have done the same. At least as a runner, you know when you'll be fighting for your life.

      Exactly. Tanner and Holiday reporting, Sir. Tinse is official company at my request.

      Official company?

      That explanation is for Commander Swede, Sir.

      He's waiting, Pilot Tanner. You know where?

      If he hasn't changed, the juice bar in the gym. We're old friends.

      The place. If you hadn't known, I'd have said I had an impostor and get to his office.

      You mean he can find it?

      Tanner grinned, saluted, and left the young lieutenant laughing. She liked her. Swede had finally gotten a good aide. She pulled off insignia, pocketed it, unbuttoned her collar and rolled up her sleeves. Tinse and Kev did the same. It was as out of uniform as they could get and anyone who did it was considered to be in civvies.

      Swede, Commander Swedani, was a giant of a man. He was fast, strong, and very, very smart. He'd gotten Tanner drunk and into a brawl forty days after her previous partner had been killed, then held her when the tears finally came. The last time she'd heard from him was when Kev had arrived with a sealed envelope from him. The note said, Keep him alive, Baby. You may be the only one who can.

      Hey, you, big and ugly! Got room for three more in that corner?

      Saved you a spot on my lap, Baby. Been saving it for years.

      And loaning it out every chance you got. Missed you, Swede.

      Mutual. Hi, Kev. Sorry, don't know you, but I know I've seen you. Or maybe... Do you have a sister?

      Two. I'm Tinse Lamb, Flightwing Six.

      You like it?

      It's a bloody bore, but patrol and runner do not appeal.

      I need a... Corporal?

      Yes.

      I need someone on the Cossalis. Security posting, but every odd duck on it thinks every sec person is a spare lab assistant. You walked in with the best recommendation there is. It won't be boring, lonely or gut-tight tense all the time. Say, yes sir.

      Yes, Sir.

      Comm, get me Sunder. Tinse Lamb of Flightwing Six is being reposted. The slot on the Cossalis is now filled. She goes there after her leave is over.

      Yes, Sir. Sunder out.

      Good aide.

      Finally. All right, now that I've given her a legit excuse for being here, Tanner, why is she?

      A civvie who raises my hackles is trailing Kev. I grabbed her for the other side. She caught onto trouble instantly and made offer of a hole we could dive into if needed.

      The sec chief on the Cossalis is going to wonder how she got someone who's actually what she wanted. Runner?

      We think of it as a restful posting.

      All right, Tanner, but asking to have your ship transferred with you is pretty odd.

      Um, I played with it a little.

      Yipe! Comm, get me Admiral Sont.

      She's in conference, Sir.

      I don't care if she's screwing! Now!

      Yes, Sir!

      Swede, what's the blow?

      Sont, get ship Q-six-nine-one-three sealed and shuffled to runner status and keep it sealed until Tanner shows up to claim it. Holiday's been playing with it for four years.

      Damn! Out!

      I didn't do that much to it, Sir.

      Tanner burst into laughter and just laid her head down on the table that Swede used as a desk. Swede raised an eyebrow at Kev and pointed at her.

      Well, it was something to do while we were just watching.

      He built a new comp, then he rebuilt that. Then he rebuilt the interior. After that he built new sensor systems. One day, while doing exterior maintenance, he changed the drive. He'd built a new one in the shop he'd built in the ship. He says it's soothing to work at 'simple mechanical stuff.' I giggle and remind myself I'm qualified as a test pilot.

      None better. Any you want to share?

      Huh, uh. Too many leaks, Swede. The Beska would have it in use before we got it approved.

      Or at least as soon as they got a ship they could reverse engineer. We've reduced the leaks a lot.

      Do tell.

      Tagget took over Fleet Sec and Forder is chief of Comm. Nouse, Twelk and Drovonosky retired. You know my section doesn't leak.

      And Tagget's people plug holes with bodies.

      Please, Tinse, we don't know that.

      Yes, Sir, but it's a nice comforting thought when you're out there wondering if the Beska have your position, name, next of kin, favorite foods, a nice thought.

      Call me Swede. A sports brief isn't a uniform and the juice bar isn't an office. Which, of course, is why I use it as one. My own form of protest against being made an officer and given an office and rank. Of course, if I didn't have the rank, I couldn't get away with it.

      Swede, anyone who hassles you is requesting a broken arm.

      Tanner, I don't break people.

      And you and I are the only ones sure of that.

      Nah, Sunder's got me figured out. She knows I'm just a big teddy bear.

      Ooh, I collect teddy bears. I'll bet I could find a big enough spot for you on my bed.

      Swede stared at Tinse a second, then burst into laughter. Momy on the Cossalis would love the story and she deserved a good second. He supposed he should probably tell Tinse she was being promoted to lieutenant for the job, but decided he preferred not ducking juice glasses. He expected Tanner to deck him for making her an officer, but a runner required one and he wouldn't do that to Kev. He decided he might as well get it over with.

      Tanner, you ain't gonna like this. I'm going over my unarmed combat defense training in my mind.

      Uh, oh, you're going to promote me.

      I have to or turn down the request for transfer. Enlisted can't captain and that's the job. The lowest option is light-commander-acting-as. I want you to take commander and accept the bump to captain when it comes.

      "Commander! Swede, that's at least unprecedented and, frankly, unheard of. I'm a patrol pilot, an SPCO. You want to jump

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