“Then join us for debriefing, sir. You’re in for a treat.” He checked the decks of the landing bay for extraneous personnel, then glanced up at the video surveillance equipment that was standard in all the bays. “I’m going to need a blackout, sir. Those two cameras. Just for this initial arrival. I don’t want anyone looking up the video files and seeing what you’re about to see.”
“Commander, you’re beginning to sound paranoid,” Greays said gruffly.
“Trust me. If you knew what I knew, you’d be ordering it yourself. Just humor me until you’re up to speed. Then if you want, you can send me to Psyche Services.”
After a moment of sizing up Bronse, the admiral turned to his aide and ordered the blackout. It took only a single call and then they were ready.
“Ravenna, could you come here, please?” Bronse called back to the ship.
The Chosen Ones emerged.
“Well,” Greays said after a long minute, sitting back in his seat to eye Bronse, his crew, and the Chosen Ones, “you spin a hell of a story, Commander.”
They had all gone to one of the security rooms for the debriefing, the camera that was recording the session something only the top brass of the IM could watch. Even JuJuren would be denied access. Only if he had been there for the session would he have a clue as to what was being said. And Bronse had laid it all out in the open. Everything. Both of their failed missions, Trick’s findings, all of the double crosses and mayhem. Then he had very bluntly told them about Ravenna visiting him in his dreams and everything that followed, with a few personal exclusions. Now his words hung on the minds of these superior officers, who would have to pursue his accusations and his claims to their bitter ends, whatever that may be.
“Well, young woman, all I have to go on is the reports I’ve heard from this crew,” Greays said to Ravenna. “What I need now is some empirical proof that they’re not all out of their minds.”
Rave stepped forward, her long, proud bearing a breathtaking sight as she walked up to the table that the three admirals sat behind. She reached out to put her hand over Admiral Hural’s. Her eyes closed briefly as she turned her attention to the influx of information she was getting from just that simple touch. Then she opened her eyes and stared hard and cool into his.
“Last night your wife became angry with you and lost her temper. She threw one of your medals at your head. It had a ribbon with a blue and gold stripe.”
“For Great Being’s sake!” the admiral gasped.
Chaser chuckled. “Trudy always was a firebrand,” he said to the other man.
“She’s right then?” Greays asked. “Have you told Chaser about it already?” He still seemed suspicious, and Rave knew immediately that her intangible power would not be the one to convince him.
“Vivi, come here, please.”
Vivienne moved quickly to Rave’s side, ready to do anything she asked. The dynamic was not lost on the men before them.
“And what is it you’re going to show me, young lady?” Greays wanted to know in his brusque manner. Vivi looked to Rave for guidance.
“Vivienne, shut down all the power in this section of the station,” Rave instructed quietly.
The admiral guffawed as if she had told a ridiculous joke. “This station has too many redundant systems. A power failure is impossible.” Just the same, he turned a CompuVid screen toward Vivi, a silent dare to see if she could hack her way to her goal.
But instead of trying to type instructions or commands into the system, Vivienne simply laid her hand on the equipment itself. With only a small flicker to warn them, there was a sudden slamming sound, the sound of generators and turbines and hundreds of little bits of electronic gadgets all shutting down at once. The room went black, and then the gravity plating failed. Anyone who wasn’t holding on to something began to float off the ground. It took only fifteen seconds for Greays to shout uncle.
“Holy shit! Make her stop!”
“Vivi,” Ravenna said softly.
Vivienne lifted her hand away from the terminal. The sudden whine of everything powering back up was followed by the sound of bodies crashing back to the floor.
Bronse had managed to land on his feet and was quick to turn to the admiral.
“Convinced?”
Greays stood up, straightening his uniform.
“Commander, let’s find some quarters for your special friends.”
Bronse sat back with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes for the hundredth time that day. It had been a week since they’d been debriefed about the Ebbany mission, and since then his crew had been reassigned to Spec Ops for the sole purpose of watching over the IM’s newest hot commodity.
And if he was exhausted just watching the gauntlet of tests they were subjecting the Chosen Ones to, he could imagine how Ravenna and the others felt.
Ravenna. He hadn’t had a moment alone with her in a week. The quarters they had been given were behind lockdown, and no one had access in or out unless they had very specific clearance. He could have come to see her, he supposed, since he was one of those few, but he would have been seen by at least four sentries as he passed by, and he didn’t think it was such a good idea to let people know that he and Ravenna had a personal connection. Not at that point, anyway. If he let it be known that he had a personal stake in any part of these events, he’d be snatched out of Spec Ops so fast that his head would be missing. Then it would be months before he saw her again, if he was lucky.
No. It was best to keep things cool and professional for now. He and his team were there to protect the Chosen Ones. That had to be enough.
But watching them wear her out with their endless testing was starting to get on his nerves. And she would protest on behalf of everyone else, but never on behalf of herself. Instead, whenever she forced the IM to back off on testing one of the others, she always placated them by offering herself in their stead.
Maybe that was the sign of a true leader, of a damn good one, but it was killing him to keep quiet while she did this. She had asked him not to undermine her position, and he was trying his best not to, but it was getting beyond ridiculous at this point.
It didn’t help that she was always there, through the glass partition and just out of his reach, and just as irresistibly seductive as ever. Sometimes she would look up from what she was doing and fix her eyes on him. It was keenly obvious to him that she was thinking something decidedly illicit the moment he caught her glance, and she would blush a beautiful shade of pink right before his eyes.
Those were probably the hardest times of all.
“She needs a break,” he heard himself saying suddenly as his gaze stayed trained on Ravenna in the next room. Every day he stood there in the observation room watching test after test and feeling more and more out of touch with her. For some reason, today he’d had enough.
The doctors and admirals in the observation room all turned as one to look at him, surprise written clearly on their features.
“She needs a break,” he reiterated, not in the least bit cowed by their stares. “You’ve had her reading this subject for over an hour. Can’t you see how tired she is?”
“That’s the point, Commander. We’re doing this testing to see just what her limitations are,” one of the doctors said.
“To what end? So you can burn out her brain and make her a zombie?” he demanded to know. “This isn’t a machine you can test until it breaks or pops a circuit, then repair and move on. If you wait until something pops in her, she might not be able to recover from that. They came here for protection and to help us do some good. Not to be prisoners and guinea pigs for the rest of their lives! They haven’t even been out of these labs since they got here.”
“We can’t let them out in the general population!” The doctor was horrified at the idea.
“Why not?” Bronse wanted to know. “No one knows what they’re capable of. They look just like any of the other thousands of soldiers walking these halls. They aren’t prisoners and they have
rights. The same rights as any other soldier here.”
“Weren’t you the one who was so paranoid that you had me shutting off cameras?” Greays wanted to know.
“That was because of JuJuren, not because of them. Keep their abilities top secret, but not them. If you don’t treat them like any other normal soldier, they’ll start to rebel and then you’ll lose them altogether. Admiral, this lockdown and rabid testing has to stop.”
The doctors protested in tandem, talking over one another as they listed all the reasons why they felt they should keep their guinea pigs in cages, but Bronse had gotten through to Greays. He could see the man thinking hard on it.
“Every soldier has to earn the IM’s trust,” Greays said after a long minute. “They do that by subjecting themselves to tests and training of every nature, by letting us mold them into the soldiers we need. We expect the same from the Chosen Ones.”
“And in return they expect you to treat them with humanity,” said Bronse. “They get things like downtime and freedom to socialize. You’ll get your tests and they’ll submit to training—they’ve already proven as much. But you have to loosen it up just a little bit. Admiral, you’ve seen Kith getting more and more defiant each day. Soon even Ravenna won’t be able to control him. That boy needs to steam off or he’s going to explode.”
The truth was that a huge part of Bronse wanted them locked down and hyper protected. He was afraid of what they’d run into in the common corridors. But he couldn’t let fear rule him.
“The adults would blend in,” Greays was musing, “but the children …”
“There are enough families on this base that they wouldn’t be questioned,” said Bronse. “You just have to put them up in family housing. I don’t think they’d want to be separated anyhow. Not just yet. And if it makes you feel any better, my team and I will move into quarters with them and watch over them. That’s six trained pairs of eyes. Best of the best, no less.” He stepped closer to the admiral, eager to send his point home. “They need normalcy. They need to learn how to live their lives in our world. Those kids need schooling. This is what Ravenna wants from you but is too tired to ask for. They aren’t going anywhere. They just need a little more freedom than this and a little more compassion from all of you.”
The admiral nodded slowly, ignoring any further protests from the doctors. He turned to the others who had been watching the testing with him. “We’ll move them today. No muss and no fuss. But a crew of ETF officers in the house will draw attention. Give me an alternative, Commander.”
“Let me go in undercover. I could be …” He searched his tired brain.
“Ravenna’s husband maybe?” Greays prompted. “You’re too young for the children to be yours, but you could be raising your brothers and sisters after your parents’ deaths. We’ll put Justice and Fallon right next door as another couple. Domino could live with them. Then put Ender and Lasher in quarters across the way.” The admiral quirked up a brow. “But you’re ETF First Actives. This is long-term undercover work we’re talking. This would take you out of the field for months. Your crew would be replaced. Maybe you should consult with them before making any offers.”
Maybe he should. They hadn’t seemed to mind the downtime so far because they’d been busy keeping watch over the Chosen Ones, but to be permanently transferred was something else entirely.
And was that something he himself wanted? He’d fought long and hard to become an ETF First Active squad leader. Was he willing to give that up all of a sudden? And for what? Special Ops? What he and the others liked to call spook work?
But one day it could end up being something even more. On the horizon the IM would want to use the Chosen Ones in the field, for practical purposes, once they’d been trained of course. Then they would need a crack military team backing them up. That kind of future prospect might just be appealing to some of his adrenaline-junkie crew, especially Lasher, even though it might mean resignations and transfers out of being First Active. Justice and Ender, however, might want to stay ETF.
There was only one way to find out. And while he was at it, he might ask himself what he wanted.
“I’ll do that,” he said aloud to the room. “But I need to know what to offer them as a carrot, sir. I mean, I assume you plan to use these people in the field one day.”
“Ah, I see. Chaser warned me you could be ambitious as hell. You want to make your team the one that helps us utilize the Chosen Ones in the field.”
“We’re the best,” Bronse said with a simple shrug. “And we’re already briefed and cleared. Can you think of anyone better?”
“No. In fact I just might insist,” Greays warned him. “Talk to your team. Feel them out on this. If they agree to it, then we’ll set you all up to play house.”
“And the testing for today?” he asked, glancing at Ravenna and her wearily drooping head as she caught it in her palm. She looked like she was ready to fall asleep right there on the table that sat between her and her subject.
“Finished.”
Bronse nodded, feeling satisfied that he’d done the right thing.
Now he just had to fight the urge to break into the next room and hold her until her exhaustion took over and she could sleep. He hoped she didn’t mind him taking charge. But if he was in the position to do the most good for the sake of the Chosen Ones, then why not take advantage of it?
She looked up just then and met his eyes through the observation glass. The way she suddenly lit up was damning and telling, but Bronse realized in that moment that he no longer cared. All that mattered to him was making her happy and seeing that she was taken care of. So he smiled at her, with much stronger emotions than he dared to name just then.
“Sir, do you mind if I have a minute with her?” he heard himself asking before he could curb the impulse.
Damn it, what had happened to all of his infamous control? Ever since she’d drifted into his dreams, he’d been lost to one unthinking impulse after another. Even worse was that he was enjoying it more than half the time. Enjoying the benefits of it.
Like his impulse to speak up on her behalf just now. The admiral’s proposed setup was everything he could have asked for, even to the point where he’d be behind closed doors with Ravenna again. He’d be able to touch her again. To taste her.
He knew his thoughts were transparent to her the moment she blushed and turned her face down. Bronse could only hope that her thoughts weren’t as easily readable by the commanding officers and medics in the room.
“I don’t see why not. You can propose the whole idea to her and see what she thinks.”
He nodded, his feet already carrying him to the door between the rooms. “I’ll take her for a walk.” Bronse walked into the testing room, and the soldier who had been Rave’s subject stood up at attention at his approach. Bronse ignored the younger man and reached out to take one of Rave’s warm, smooth hands into his, pulling her up to her feet. “You’re done for today,” he told her gently. “And we need to have a talk about some things.”
Ravenna nodded and followed him from the room without argument. It took only a few moments before they were walking through the nearly abandoned bays and corridors of the lockdown section. They avoided the sentry checkpoints and soon had relative privacy, except for the cameras that were covering every inch of the secured area.
Just the same, he turned her into his arms, gave her a strong hug of strength and support, and tried his damndest to make it look ten times more platonic than it was. It didn’t help that she ran hungry hands up his back and seemed to be absorbing him via the nerves of her fingertips. But as wonderful as it felt, he made himself step away from her. He knew they were being watched. He just had to hold out a little while longer and he’d have her any way he wanted her.
“Rave, I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to usurp your authority over the Chosen Ones,” he prefaced before he explained what was potentially in the works for her and her powerful little family. Then he ga
ve her his caveat. “This, of course, will all depend on whether the team wants to come off of First Active duty.”
“Do you think they’ll want to?”
“It’s hard to say. They live for the ETF like I do.”
“But you …” She hesitated and looked deeply into his eyes, as if she were searching for something. “You want this? You want to help give us more freedom and … and play house?”
Bronse couldn’t count how many times he’d berated himself for how awkwardly and how badly he’d managed his emotions the last time they’d been together, and hearing her toss his snidely spoken words back up between them only made him feel like more of an ass.
“I see the potential,” he explained to her. “I can see me and mine training you and yours and one day making a unit out of us that would be close to unstoppable. Vivienne could break into any electronic lock, could shut down power to installations we needed to penetrate, or could cripple malignant computing systems. Ophelia, once she’s old enough, would save lives in a way that Jet never could. Kith could read ready status and enemy intentions before we breached a structure. And you. We would know what could go wrong on a mission long before it even happened. It all makes for an edge that any soldier would kill for.”
“And Devan?”
Devan perhaps had more potential than any of them. She had proven herself to have the power of charming any person or animal she came into contact with. She could coax them into thinking anything, into doing anything, just with the power of her mind and voice. Her only limitation was that it wore her out considerably, and she was very young and frail. But she would grow stronger with age and could be groomed to be the soldier that the IM desperately wanted her to be. Whether her shy nature made it right for her would be another story entirely. There were still a lot of open-ended questions, but it was the infinite possibilities of application that so intrigued Bronse and his superiors.
“We have years before we have to worry about Devan being in the field. Right now, I’m worried about her getting a chance to be a kid. To go to school and make friends. To feel normal as much as she can while being above the norm.”
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