As for Nicole, Jodi knew that she had been with men on a few rare occasions, but nothing had ever come of any of these relationships. Nicole’s life was her job, and Jodi doubted that there was anyone in the Fleet who did it better: Nicole Carré lived and breathed fighters. Living so long in such a lethal profession was beyond the ability of all but a very few. Nicole Carré was among them. Her mastery of technique and relentless aggression in the cockpit had quickly earned her commander’s stripes and a squadron command, and she was now on the verge of putting on another stripe and taking over Hood’s entire wing. Her cold demeanor had earned her the call sign Ice Queen since early on in flight training. But Jodi knew there was more, much more, beneath the flawless porcelain skin of her commander.
Nicole’s professional and personal aloofness gave Jodi a certain sense of security, the feeling that she would always be the one to whom Nicole would turn in times of need. And so it had been for the years they had known each other. Jodi, her own flying skills having proven quite lethal to the enemy, had sacrificed promotions and choice assignments to stay with Nicole. Jodi obstinately refused her friend’s pleas – and several direct orders – to take her own command and develop her career, and at last Nicole had given up after Jodi had laid her heart bare. It was then that Nicole fully realized how dependent she was on Jodi for support, lover or not; Nicole could not deny the fact that she herself was only human, and needed someone by her side. That someone just happened to be Jodi Mackenzie.
Still, Jodi could not help but be sad for her friend. She needed love just as a flower needs the light of the sun, but would never find it. As much as she wanted Nicole for herself, she would have been happy to see someone sweep her off her feet, to love her like Jodi would have loved to. That was the measure of Jodi’s love.
“Jodi, what is wrong?”
Nicole’s question caught her off guard. “Nothing,” Jodi said, pushing away the thoughts of what could never be. “I… I was just thinking how good dinner was.” She smiled. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had food like this.” She laughed nervously. “It’ll probably make me barf.”
“Do not be silly,” Nicole said, letting Jodi’s white lie pass for the time being. She knew that if something was bothering her, she would speak up about it sooner or later. Fishing for a little humor to brighten up her friend, Nicole made a theater out of looking over their plates, at the devastated remains of an authentic lobster dinner that had cost Nicole half a month’s pay in the best restaurant in the port. It had been worth every credit, both for the food itself and to help welcome Jodi home. “The day you become sick from good food is the day the goat becomes the gourmet, oui?” Leaning forward, she took one of Jodi’s hands in hers. “I am glad you are back, my friend.”
“Me, too,” Jodi rasped. She was afraid that she would break down and start bawling with joy. She squeezed Nicole’s hand tightly.
Nicole smiled. She so much wished that Jodi would find someone she could be truly happy with, for she had so much to give. But Nicole knew that this was not going to happen any time soon; Jodi had made that quite clear. Sitting across from her, Nicole was painfully aware just how attractive Jodi was to the people around her. From surreptitious glances to unabashed stares, easily a dozen people close by were more than casually interested in her friend. If only…
But it was not to be. Not yet, anyway. Jodi was content with the way things were and, as fate would have it, so was Nicole. They were a good team.
“Jodi,” Nicole asked, “what is that?” She had seen a strange bit of jewelry hanging from Jodi’s neck that she had not noticed before. It looked like nothing more than a loop of twine or very fine rope cascading down into her ample cleavage.
“Oh,” Jodi said. “It’s a gift from someone I met on Rutan.” She looked sheepish as she held up the small wooden crucifix that Hernandez had given her.
“May I see it?” Nicole asked, curious as to the origins of this token and who had gotten Jodi Mackenzie, of all people, to take up religion.
“Sure,” Jodi slipped it from around her neck and handed it across the table.
“Does this mean you are a believer?” Nicole asked, curious as she examined the cross in her hands.
“No,” Jodi answered immediately. “Yes. Maybe.” She threw her head back in exasperation. “Hell, I don’t know. I prayed on the way here from Rutan, on the shuttle. Can you believe that? I meant it, too. But now, I don’t know. How can anyone believe in any God when the universe is as fucked up as ours is?”
“That is what faith is supposed to be about, or so they say,” Nicole answered distantly. “To believe in something you have accepted to be true, but that sometimes seems to go against all that you see.” She was quiet for a moment as she turned the old cross in her hands. “I used to have one of these, given me by my mother. That, and the clothes on my back, was all that was left to me when my parents died. There was a time when I believed in such things as God, but that was a long time ago, when I was very young, before the realities of life showed my beliefs to be painfully foolish.”
“What happened to it?” Jodi asked softly, more to draw the pain out of her friend than to satisfy any sense of curiosity. Nicole had never spoken much about her childhood. But Jodi figured that this was a harmless question now. “The cross, I mean. Do you just not wear it anymore?”
Nicole shook her head and smiled, but Jodi could see that her eyes were misting over. She had never seen Nicole like this. “Nikki,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to–”
“It is all right,” Nicole told her as her mind paged back to those distant years of her youth. “It has just been a very long time since I have thought of it, that is all. When I was a young girl, after my parents died and I was put into an orphanage, I had a friend. A boy who was very special to me. Since I was older, I was able to leave the orphanage before him, to go to the academy. I gave my crucifix to him to keep for me, the only special thing I had for the person I held most dear.”
“What happened?” Jodi asked, watching Nicole turn the wooden cross over in her hands. “He blew you off, didn’t he?”
“No,” Nicole said with a force that startled Jodi. “No,” she went on more softly now, “he would never have done that. Never. We wrote each other often, and I counted each passing day toward the time when he could join me. I would have been a senior by the time he could have come, but we would have had some time together. I knew even then that we were terribly young, mere children, but still, I had hopes and dreams for the two of us, and I knew he did, too.
“Then, in my first year at the academy, I was going back to visit him when I found out that the orphanage had been attacked, that the entire planet had been wiped out.” She smiled bitterly. How many times had she relived that day in her nightmares? “The silver of my mother’s cross burned away with the rest of Hallmark’s atmosphere. Along with him.”