“And you didn’t tell me before now?” She watched her friend stride up the steps carrying a folded square of dark blue cloth. Her dress uniform now bore an additional red chevron on each sleeve, a small change that meant so much.
Lhyn leaned over. “That closes some of the gap between her and Lanaril, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does,” Andira said. “I’m curious to see if anything comes of that.”
Fianna stopped in front of Ehron and held a fist to her chest. “Prime Warrior, I present to you the banner of the Voloth Empire ship Vengeance, taken from its bridge in honorable combat.”
“Thank you, First Guard. Admiral Torokuok, in accordance with the agreement executed between Alsea and the Protectorate, I hereby transfer the Vengeance to the custody of the Protectorate Fleet.” He took the banner from Fianna and handed it to Torokuok, who examined it with more interest than he had shown in the ceremony so far.
“Thank you, Prime Warrior Ehron. I accept custody of the Vengeance in the name of the Protectorate government.”
And that was that, Salomen thought. Endless days of negotiations that had left Andira hollow-eyed and sleepless, all wrapped up in a few sentences. Ekatya’s medal ceremony and retirement had taken far more time than the official trade of two massive and extremely valuable warships between governments.
She would never understand politics.
The ceremony concluded a few ticks later with an invitation from Prime Warrior Ehron to join the celebrations being conducted on the ship. Crew members were invited to the main services corridor, which had been turned into a temporary party venue, while the senior officers and dignitaries would retire to the treaty conference room for what Lhyn said would be an event with less noise but better spirits.
The band played a peppy song, and the sound level rose as conversations began all over the shuttle bay.
Ekatya was suddenly there, throwing herself into her grandfather’s arms for a lengthy warmron.
“I’m so proud of you, Katya,” he said in High Alsean.
“Thank you, Gramps. It’s been a really good day.”
He laughed. “Yes, it has. You deserve it.”
She squeezed harder before letting go and facing her grandmother. “Have I mentioned how happy I am that you could make it out here?”
“Two or three times. Come here and give an old lady a warmron.”
“Still so bossy,” Ekatya teased, obeying her orders.
“You’d better believe it. Got to keep these retired Fleeters in shape.”
“She won’t be retired for long.” Lhyn opened her arms. “Come here and give a younger lady a warmron.”
With a joyous smile, Ekatya nestled in and closed her eyes. “I plan to enjoy my retirement for at least a couple of days.”
“Try one moon,” Andira said.
Her eyes popped open. “A moon?”
“We’ve all earned some time off. Salomen has arranged for a little getaway whenever you’re ready.”
Salomen offered her best enigmatic look. “We’ll talk about it later. Didn’t someone say something about a party?”
32
It’s time
“Do you think they’ll ever realize that we couldn’t wait to get rid of that death ship?” Vellmar asked.
Tal swirled the purple liquid in her glass. “They don’t understand us well enough. I could call their President right now, speak the unvarnished truth, and he wouldn’t believe me. They don’t have our empathic senses, so they give no weight to them.”
She sipped the drink, enjoying the fizz on her tongue. A Synobian Sparkler, Rahel had called it. Delicious.
“I’ve overheard a few conversations. They seem to think speaking Common means we won’t understand them.” With a tap to her earcuff, Vellmar subtly pointed her chin toward a cluster of admirals. “They’re congratulating themselves on getting the better end of the deal. Maybe you should have asked for two ships.”
“We already have two.” The words still didn’t sound real. Even after the negotiations and an entire moon of wrapping up details, she couldn’t quite believe the Phoenix was theirs. “Why ask for more than we could possibly crew? Besides, the best deals are the ones your opponents think they won.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Grinning broadly, Vellmar raised her glass of Alsean grain spirits.
“Here’s to knowing who won.” Tal touched their glasses together. “And to you, for showing me the way.”
“I just told you what I felt.”
“You knew it was important. Your instincts were exactly right.” She swallowed a mouthful of fizzing flavor, remembering her brief trip to the Vengeance. After Vellmar’s warning about the empathic echoes embedded in its bulkheads, she had overridden Micah’s vociferous objections and gone to sense it for herself.
That day would haunt her nightmares. The echoes were stronger than she could have imagined, a sensory cacophony of horrors. She had toured the ship in the company of thirty Guards, and every one of them had the same reaction: their skin crawled.
It was exponentially worse in the slave quarters, tiny rooms she wouldn’t give to a fanten. The suffering and misery soaked into their bulkheads made her want to send that ship straight into the sun. Then she had stepped into several weapons rooms, confirming another of Vellmar’s observations. Though these echoes were fainter, having been embedded in a shorter span of time, the murderous intent of soldiers firing genocidal weapons had left their mark. Mid empaths might not fully sense it, but they would sense enough to be constantly ill at ease.
She didn’t bother going to the bridge.
Vellmar had been correct in her assessment that they could not have crewed that ship with anything but low empaths and sonsales. Ronlin’s report from the destroyers was more encouraging: with relatively few slaves in service and no bioforce missiles in their armories, the smaller ships felt lighter and would be easier to crew.
After that visit, the solution to her problem with Sholokhov had been blindingly clear—as had a means of coming out ahead. Instead of trading the services of high empaths for a ship, she had traded them for a ship, two complete armories, two cycles of maintenance and repair, and a full cycle of operational responsibility and crew training, all while getting rid of a horror ship she didn’t want and couldn’t use.
And Sholokhov thought he had won.
“Thank you,” Vellmar said, ducking her head. “I appreciate the trust you put in me.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t thank me yet,” she joked. “The more trust you earn, the more responsibility I’m going to put on your shoulders.”
Vellmar pointed at the new chevron on her sleeve. “Isn’t that how these work? I always thought—” She stopped when a familiar voice rose above the rest.
“Yes? It’s a yes?”
All around them, heads turned toward the refreshment table. Micah held a laden plate in one hand, tilting dangerously toward the floor as he looked from Alejandra to Rahel and back again.
Alejandra nodded.
He dropped the plate on the table, let out a delighted whoop that silenced the room, and lifted her up for a full spin. She was breathless and laughing when he set her down and kissed her for all the world to see.
“Did he just ask her—Fahla on a funstick.” Vellmar gaped as he turned to Rahel and raised both hands.
Tal’s glass nearly slipped through her fingers. “Who asked what?” she said blankly, watching Rahel meet the familial gesture and rest their foreheads together. “What the shek is going on?”
“I have no idea. Damn, that woman can keep a secret.”
Micah grabbed Alejandra’s hand and pulled her toward them, Rahel trailing behind. The happiness pouring off him reached Tal’s senses long before he did.
“Tal! I’m going to be a father!”
“You’re—a father?” Mystified, she set down her glass and waited for some part of this to make sense.
“When did this happen?” Vellmar rounded on Rahel. “And you never
said a word to me?”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell! Besides, she didn’t decide until a few days ago.”
“Didn’t decide what?” Tal demanded.
“Oh good, we’re in time for the explanations.” Lhyn had arrived with Ekatya, Salomen, and Lanaril in tow.
Alejandra spoke up, amusement dancing on her skin. “Micah and I have agreed to have a child together, with Rahel acting as my surrogate.”
“I’ll bear the child. Tal, I cannot believe she said yes. That they said yes.” He thrust both fists in the air. “They said yes!”
Alejandra and Rahel laughed at his transparent joy, and Tal was pierced by a sense of loss. She pushed it down, reminding herself of Ekatya’s words in the crater of Pica Mahal.
“I’m so very happy for you.” She held up both palms. “You’ve found a different love, and no one deserves it more. No one deserves a family more.”
“Thank you.” He interlaced their fingers, elation and love pouring through their skin contact. But a flicker of concern marred the warmth. Leaning forward, he whispered, “You’ll always be my first child.”
She blinked back traitorous tears. “I know. You’ll be a wonderful father to this child, just as you were to me. Fahla, what a day.” She kissed his cheek, her momentary pain gone as if it had never been. “Micah, you’re going to have a baby!”
“I know!” He squeezed her hands, laughing, and she had never seen his eyes so bright.
Twenty ticks passed in excited conversation, with everyone wanting to know details and Alejandra happy to provide them in explicit medical format. Ekatya was effusive in her congratulations, glad for Micah but overjoyed for her friend. Lanaril took Alejandra aside for a few hushed sentences that had the healer wiping her cheeks.
Salomen never left Tal’s side, their hands always coming back to each other as they watched their family grow.
Then Commander Lokomorra arrived to whisk Rahel off for a congratulatory drink, and the group split up into couples as they remembered that this was a diplomatic function, not a family party.
For the next hantick, Tal and Salomen circulated among Protectorate diplomats and Fleet officers, performing their roles as expected before separating into different conversational groups. Tal spoke briefly with each of the Primes, then found herself alone with Vellmar once more.
She glanced at the new chevrons on Vellmar’s sleeves, thinking of the changes that were rippling through the lives of everyone she knew. With a tap to one chevron, she asked, “How does it feel?”
“Fabulous. Like a dream come true.”
“More than being Fahla’s Emissary?” she teased.
“Ha. I never dreamed about that. Lanaril has been having fun with it, though. ‘Emissary, you left your house shoes in the middle of the floor again. Emissary, would you bring me a cup of shannel?’”
Tal hastily lowered her glass as she laughed. “I can hear it!”
Her gaze fell on a familiar figure across the room. Ekatya was watching her, a small smile curving her lips before she hid it behind a glass and turned away.
Tal had only seen that smile once before, on their date. Now it appeared each time their eyes met.
“Taking that public yet?” Vellmar had followed her line of sight.
“I haven’t even had a chance to talk to her, much less about something that big. But it’s nice to know we finally have the option.”
“Now that she’s free of Fleet,” Vellmar said knowingly.
And of Sholokhov, Tal thought. His ignorance of the true nature of their relationship had been critical to the negotiations. As long as he felt insulted on Ekatya’s behalf, he was determined to extract concessions for her. Had he known she was a point of vulnerability, he would have been ruthless.
“Yes, now that she’s free,” she agreed.
“You’re a lucky dokker, you know that? Most of us dream of having one tyree. You have two.” Vellmar looked past Tal’s shoulder. “And here comes one of them.”
Salomen slipped an arm around her waist. “Fianna, do you mind if I take her away for a moment?”
“Certainly not.” Vellmar plucked the glass from her hand. “You won’t need that where you’re going.”
“Where am I going?”
Without answering, Salomen propelled her through the crowd. Once clear of the press of bodies, she asked, “Have you seen the bathroom? It’s only for people using the conference room. Luxurious beyond belief.”
“Ah, no,” Tal began, wondering if she should stop this. She recognized the lustful determination searing their link—Fahla knew they had pounced on each other often enough over the past moon—but didn’t think Salomen would act on it here, of all places.
“Then let me show you.” A door opened at their approach. Salomen pulled her through, tapped a lock pad, and pushed her against the wall.
“Salomen, we’re not—”
Her words were cut off with an aggressive kiss. She spent two pipticks trying to remember that they were at a reception, then kicked herself for wasting time and happily responded in kind.
“Dear goddess.” Salomen pulled away, already breathing hard. “You are shekking gorgeous today, in this uniform and that crowd.” She ran her hands up Tal’s sides, her dark gaze following the movement with focused intent.
“So are you. I couldn’t keep my eyes out of your neckline for most of that ceremony.”
Salomen leaned in, lightly bit her jaw, and began kissing a path downward.
Her rare use of profanity was already arousing. The teeth closing on Tal’s throat ridge were even more so.
She let out a groan. “We cannot do this here.”
The grip on her throat tightened. For several pipticks, lost in their mutual passion, Tal thought they would throw all propriety out the airlock.
Then she was released, a gentle kiss soothing skin she knew would be showing a mark.
“No,” Salomen said, straightening with a smirk. “We cannot. I was merely warming you up.” She brushed a thumb across the mark she had made.
“Does this mean you’re ready to leave?”
“Yes. I’m taking Lhyn to our quarters, and you’re going home with Ekatya.”
The sudden change of direction left her stumbling. “I’m—hold on.”
“It’s time.”
Tal stared at her, a hand drifting to the heated skin on her throat. “What just happened?”
“Have you not seen the looks Ekatya has been giving you all afternoon? She’s free at last, and it has opened a door she didn’t realize was being held closed.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“I don’t need to talk to her. I have eyes. I also have Lhyn, who I’ve missed very much this past moon. She and Ekatya have finally sated their need after the battle. So have you and I. We’re all rebalanced, and Ekatya is no longer burdened by serving two oath holders. It’s time, tyrina.”
She rubbed her throat. “And this?”
The heated look Salomen gave her could have set the room on fire. “A reminder. I’m going with Lhyn, but that doesn’t mean I want you any less.”
“Well, in that case . . .” Tal reversed their positions. “I don’t think one reminder is enough.”
33
The last ritual
In accordance with the new orbital safety protocols, the Alsean dignitaries had flown up in three shuttles: half the Primes and war council in one, half in another, and Tal and Salomen in the third. With them came Micah, Vellmar, Ronlin, and Rahel as additional military dignitaries, while Lanaril came as Vellmar’s date.
The flight back felt substantially different with the addition of Ekatya and her grandparents, Lhyn, and Alejandra. Despite knowing only two people in the shuttle, Ekatya’s grandparents took an active part in the conversation. Tal enjoyed their contributions immensely, especially the ones that made Ekatya groan.
At the State House landing pad, Vellmar and Lanaril left on foot to cross the park to the temple. Rahel hadn’t returned with
them, instead catching a ride to Whitesun with Candini. For the sake of Ekatya’s grandparents, Tal led the remaining group on a scenic route through the State House, feeling a bit like she was trying to impress a date’s parents.
Micah and Alejandra peeled off on the fourteenth floor, headed to Alejandra’s usual set of rooms. Farther down the corridor, Ekatya gave Lhyn her bag to hold and helped her grandparents into their suite. She emerged less than five ticks later, and the four of them silently walked a familiar path.
Outside their own door, Ekatya and Lhyn looked at each other and nodded. Ekatya drew Salomen a few paces away, while Lhyn dropped her bag and came to Tal.
“The coming home ritual starts with her rank bars,” she said. “Work your way down from there. The medals are mounted on three display bars, so that makes it easier. Let her put those away. She has a system.”
Tal stared at her. “You’re not doing it? I thought we would do our usual. Share and then—” She feebly waved a hand, only now realizing that she hadn’t thought about the logistics.
“Not this time. It’s her last coming home ritual as a Fleet captain. It needs to be you.”
“Why?”
Lhyn tucked her hands into her trouser pockets, her emotional signature far too calm for this conversation. “Ekatya is very good at telling herself no. She’s been denying herself for so long that I think she’s forgotten how to say yes. Salomen says you’re two seeds in a pod when it comes to that. You both need this ritual to help you say yes.”
Tal had faced down a Voloth invasion with less trepidation than this. “I won’t know what I’m doing. What if I get it wrong?”
“She won’t know what she’s doing, either. That’s why you have to do it together. This is your ritual, too.” Her smile held all the knowledge Tal wished she had. “It’s not a test. It’s learning about someone you love. The only way to fail is not to learn, and I know you won’t do that.”
“Fainting from nervousness would probably count as failure,” Tal muttered.
Alsea Rising: The Seventh Star (Chronicles of Alsea Book 10) Page 25
