Charlotte Boyett-Compo- WIND VERSE- Pleasure's Foehn Read Online Free PDF

shivering.
    “I gotta stop this shit,” he said aloud.
    “Captain? My apologies, Sir, if you are in the relieving room but we have a situation.”
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    Charlotte Boyett-Compo
    It was Dorrick who was intruding and although he liked the boy well enough—hell, even loved him like a kid brother—at the moment all Cair Ghrian wanted to do was run a scytheblade through his innards and pull.
    “Captain? Captain?”
    Ghrian slowly lifted his head and stared at the Vid-Com screen. The boyish face of Freemohn Dorrick filled the expanse with a worried look and a lock of hair that persisted in falling down over his forehead.
    “I’m going to cut off that fucking lock of hair and stuff it up your ass,” the captain growled.
    “Sir, are you all right?”
    “Right as rain,” Ghrian said through clenched teeth. “What the hell do you want?”
    “Sir, we have a new physician on board to take Dr. Rabishu’s place and we’ve already had five complaints from the staff. I’m not sure how you want to handle this but—”
    “Get rid of her.”
    There was a moment of silence. “Sir, her shuttle has already departed and is out of the Quadrant on its way back to the Andraste in Eurus Sector.”
    “Then find another shuttle, Dorrick!”
    “I’ve tried, Sir, but none are available. There is that big offensive in—”
    “Where is she?”
    “Dr. Shanahan? She’s in her quarters.”
    Ghrian leaned his head against the wall behind him, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Have her in my office in thirty minutes and escort her there yourself.”
    “Aye, Sir!”
    * * * * *
    Davan stood in the center of the living area of her new quarters and shook her head. She hadn’t thought things could get any worse but she’d been wrong. The furnishings—if she could call them that—were minimal with a single hard, plastic settee not even long enough for her to stretch out on, one straight-backed wooden chair that looked even more uncomfortable than the settee, a low cocktail table bare of any decoration and a small end table, also bare. The room smelled awful, the stench so overpowering Davan almost gagged.
    “What is that smell?” she asked.
    “Doc was a Frezican. That is their natural odor,” Cinnabar said. “I’ll have them turn on the air scrubbers. That should help.”
    “He must have spent a lot of time in here for it to have such an odor.”
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    Pleasure’s Foehn
    “Doc only used the quarters to sleep,” Cinnabar commented. “The girls kept him too busy to do much else.”
    “Please tell me the bed is at least comfortable,” Davan pleaded.
    “Now, that I can promise you!” Cinnabar asserted. “I’ve spent the night there a few times over the years.”
    Wincing, Davan walked over to the galley and poked her head in. The stainless steel counters were bare and she suspected the few wall cabinets were, too.
    “Doc didn’t cook or eat in here,” Cinnabar confirmed. “If you want me to, I can have supply bring in all the necessary stuff but I doubt you’ll have time to use any of it.”
    “I’ll make time,” Davan snapped. “I am a very private person and cooking soothes me.”
    “You won’t have much time for relaxation, Lt. Shanahan. You—”
    “Doctor Shanahan,” Davan corrected.
    Pursing her lips, Cinnabar nodded. “Understood.”
    The sleeping chamber contained nothing more than a full-sized platform covered with a single pale blue blanket. Upon sitting down on the platform, Davan was pleasantly surprised to find the tempered polyfoam very comfortable. She remarked on its comfort.
    “The bed has to be because once the docs flop down on it, they want nothing to keep them awake.” Cinnabar cocked her head toward the platform. “It’s MemFoam, by the way. It will mold to your personal body dimensions and the impression of whoever shares the bed with you.”
    Davan narrowed her eyes. “There won’t be anyone to share that bed with me,” she growled.
    Cinnabar shrugged. “That’s up to you,