by Diana Palmer
“Chacon surely knows.”
“He will not reveal anything, not even to his mate, the emperor’s daughter.” Rhemun chuckled. “But the best gossip in the fleet, gleaned from an outcast Rojok who has ties to the military on Enmehkmehk, is that she is human.”
“A human female, among Rojoks.” Mekashe made an odd sound. “She must be unique. I do not remember ever hearing of a human female setting foot on Enmehkmehk.”
“Nor I.”
“How sad, that the Rojoks are stealing our idea and making it their own.” Mekashe pursed his lips. “Perhaps we should ask the emperor to use his influence with the Tri-Galaxy Council to find us another human warwoman. Lawson would listen to him, even if the medical authority there ignores us.”
“I will make it a point to ask him,” Rhemun promised.
* * *
JASMINE AND RUSMOK were assigned duty aboard different vessels when they graduated from the military academy. It was a sad leave-taking, after all their time together.
“Don’t get shot,” she cautioned him. “I won’t be there to save you.”
He grinned. “If I do get shot, I will have them find you and bring you to treat me, wherever I am.”
“Deal.” She sighed. “Well, we’re real soldiers now.”
“With real weapons and real duties,” he agreed. “I hear that Chacon and his mate invited you to their home for a traditional Rojok banquet, with a guest of your choice.”
She nodded. She made a face. “I wish you were going to be here to go with me,” she confessed. “I’m a misfit. I don’t really have any other friends. Nobody here wants to put up with me,” she joked.
“Ask Tollek,” he advised with a smile. “He likes you.”
“I like him, too.” She shrugged. “But there’s only one Rusmok.” She laughed, but she was fighting tears.
“Do not do that,” he cautioned immediately.
“Excuse me?”
“Weep,” he said. “If you do, I will, and my reputation as a warrior will suffer irreparable damage. I assure you.”
She drew in a steadying breath and ground down hard on the pins in her throat. She forced a smile. “I’ll control my impulses,” she promised. “Hey. There’s always R & R. I’ll try to make sure I get it when you do. If we can find a mutual bar.”
“Benaski Port,” he said with a chuckle. “All our ships dock there for liberty.” He leaned forward. “Stop getting kuskons, so that you have the opportunity to get liberty.”
She sighed. “You won’t be around, so I’ll stay out of trouble, I guess.”
“A sound idea. Farewell, Jasmine Dupont,” he said softly. “I will miss you.”
She felt as if her throat was full of thorns, but she smiled. “I will miss you, too. Farewell.”
He picked up his kit and walked away. He didn’t look back. Neither did she. It would have embarrassed her to burst into tears and have the other soldiers see her do it.
* * *
CHACON’S HOUSE WAS elegant and spacious, like the villa Jasmine had visited in the holoroom with Mekashe. She wondered if Chacon’s mate, Lyceria, hadn’t helped with that design, since it was very reminiscent of Cehn-Tahr architecture.
Lyceria, heavy with pregnancy, met her at the door in a flowing blue garment with gold trim.
“Welcome,” she said gently.
“Thank you for inviting me. It truly is an honor. This is my friend Tollek,” she added, introducing the starstruck soldier beside her.
“Your Highness,” he said, and made her a sweeping bow.
Jasmine wondered if she should follow suit. Lyceria laughed softly. “You do not bow,” she told Jasmine. “Only on Memcache. Not here. We are not so formal. My mate is reprimanding some high official in his office. Fortunately, there is a sound panel between us so that the foul language will not travel this far,” she added wickedly. “He has an amazing vocabulary.”
“I know a few other soldiers who do, as well.” Jasmine laughed.
“Please, come in.” She led them into the living area, where sumptuous couches and cushioned chairs were scattered on a stone floor that radiated heat, because winter had arrived on Enmehkmehk and snow was falling softly outside.
She offered them seats and had a valet bring warm drinks.
“We were fortunate to have a passing vessel bring sea shrimps from the Vegan colonies,” Lyceria said. “So seafood is on the menu, along with native breads and fruits.”
“What a treat,” Jasmine exclaimed. “I’m fond of all the local meats, but seafood is rare in our mess hall.”
“Considering the embargo that existed until recently on Vegan products, I imagine the military budget would not stand it,” Lyceria said, smiling. “Are you happy here?”
“Happier than I’ve been in a long time,” came the soft reply. “I was surprised that your mate offered me the chance to train here. And more surprised that I was accepted so easily by the other soldiers. A human female among Rojok males. I expected it to be very difficult.”
“You won them over quite easily,” Lyceria said. “They admire courage and stubbornness more than most other traits. You never gave up on the hardest obstacle courses, although you’d never been exposed to such rough treatment. The men respected you for it.”
“I led a sheltered life,” Jasmine said quietly. “Too sheltered. After my mother died, my father was so afraid of losing me that he became overprotective.”
“It was that way with my father, after my younger brother was killed on Terramer, and I was captured and tortured by Mangus Lo at Ahkmau,” Lyceria said, her voice tinged with sadness. “Chacon saved me. I kept contact with him all through the war, despite my parents’ fears that I would be jailed for treason. He was the light of my life from my first sight of him.”
“He is an exceptional military leader,” Jasmine said. “The men speak of him in whispers. They respect no one more.”
“No one except my brother,” Lyceria said with a wicked smile. “When he led the Holconcom, his exploits were the stuff of legends. I think he misses command. But his mate is happier having him off the battlefield, especially with their sons so young.”
“His mate is human,” Jasmine recalled.
“Very,” Lyceria said. She laughed out loud. “If you could have seen them on Benaski Port together! Madeline was very pregnant, as I am now, and Dtimun had threatened to lock her in a room for being disrespectful. She said that she could climb out of windows, so let him try it.” She shook her head in a very human manner. “She and my brother were adversaries for three years, until they were forced to work together to save my mate. Chacon’s own security force was trying to kidnap him, so that Chan Ho could reopen Ahkmau and begin the reign of terror all over again. They saved him. It is why he and Dtimun and Madeline are so close.”
“I believe that he saved them first,” came a deep, amused voice from behind them.
Chacon moved into view, still in his military uniform, which he wore to most social functions. He touched his mate’s cheek gently. “Although I confess that saving you was my focus. Their liberation was a secondary benefit.”
She smiled back, catching his hand. “For which we all still give thanks. You know Jasmine Dupont,” she added, nodding toward her.
Jasmine stood and saluted him respectfully, as did Tollek.
“It is good to see you,” he said.
“This is my friend Tollek,” she added, indicating the soldier beside her. “We survived boot camp—excuse me, recruit passage—together.”
“Along with your friend Rusmok,” Chacon added surprisingly. “It was difficult not to interfere, when you were assigned to different ships,” he added as he dropped down beside his mate. “The two of you were inseparable. But the good of the military comes first.”
“Indeed it does, sir. Although Rusmok and I have high hopes of re
uniting in the not-too-distant future at Benaski Port to wreck a few bars. In disguise. So that we aren’t connected with the Rojok military, of course...” She flushed red at her own boldness.
But Chacon wasn’t offended. He roared.
“I have it on good authority that Dr. Madeline Ruszel wrecked several bars while she was attached to the Holconcom,” he replied. “In fact, when Dtimun called her out for it, she said that an insult from a rival unit about him was responsible. Never have I seen two less likely mates for each other.”
“Nor I,” Lyceria added. “But it has been a grand affair.”
“Their children are unique. As ours is expected to be,” he added with a smile at his mate.
He turned back to Jasmine. “How do you like your new assignment?” he asked.
“It’s an honor, sir,” she replied. “The sole Cularian specialist on the flagship of the Rojok fleet. I never dreamed of such an appointment. Honestly, I expected to do duty on Enmehkmehk at the infirmary.”
“You did not,” he chided with a smile. “I recall telling you when I made the offer of training that your ultimate assignment would be such.”
“Yes, sir, but I expected that to be after I’d proven myself,” she began.
“You proved yourself in combat, when you refused to give up on a fatally wounded fellow recruit,” he replied. “The entire unit sent a petition to my office, asking for a commendation for you. Which I was inclined to give. However, I did not want to single you out for possible harassment at so early a stage of your training.” He leaned forward with a rueful smile. “You will learn that Rojoks are extremely competitive. Especially in the early stages of training. By singling you out, I would have exposed you to some rather brutal retaliation.”
“I’m very flattered that the men thought so highly of me,” Jasmine responded. She smiled. “There’s a saying among humans, that it’s the thought that really counts, as much as the action.”
“So I have heard.”
A tiny bell rang and Lyceria smiled as she got to her feet. “I believe that our meal is now ready. Come. Vegan seafood is a delicacy not to be missed!”
* * *
IT WAS A pleasant meal, far from the ordeal Jasmine had expected it to be. A visit to the home of the president of the Rojok government would intimidate most soldiers. But it was like being at home, long ago. An odd feeling, considering her resentment for Cehn-Tahr, after the agony her father’s dismissal had caused.
But then, Lyceria was hardly to blame for something the emperor did, she reminded herself. Mekashe, on the other hand, she would never stop blaming.
She noticed Lyceria’s sudden worried glance, but it was quickly erased and followed by a question about Jasmine’s medical scores, which had been impressive.
* * *
IT WASN’T UNTIL Jasmine was back in the barracks that she recalled something troubling. Lyceria was of the Royal Clan. And they were all telepaths. She hoped against hope that she hadn’t given offense to that kind, gracious soul. It would have wounded her, when Lyceria—and Chacon—had been so kind.
She rolled over in bed and closed her eyes. Tomorrow would be her first day aboard the Kreskkom, the flagship of the Rojok fleet. She looked forward to it, even as she dreaded the new and overwhelming responsibility. Her training had been superb. Now it was time to repay it.
* * *
IN THE ABSENCE of Admiral Baklor, who was recuperating from surgery, the commanding officer was Captain Tregor, a veteran of many wars. He had as many campaign ribbons as Admiral Lawson of the Tri-Galaxy Fleet, and a temper about twice as bad.
He was railing out a subordinate for a sloppy drill when Jasmine walked onto the bridge and saluted.
He stopped his tirade and turned to her. He had long straight blond hair, not as long as Chacon’s—it came only to his shoulders. His slit eyes studied her quietly in a hard, dusky face. He lifted his chin. “You are Dr. Dupont.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, still standing at attention.
“You were selected for this assignment by Chacon himself.”
“Yes, sir, I was.”
He made a rough sound in his throat. “We have never had a female aboard any ship in the fleet, much less a flagship,” he scoffed. “Only Chacon would consider something so radical. Copying the Cehn-Tahr, with their famous warwomen!”
Jasmine, wisely, said nothing.
“Very well. If I must bend to innovation, I must,” he said curtly. “We have a veteran physician in sick bay. He will be in charge. You will follow his orders as if they were mine, and you will do nothing without his permission. Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” she said formally.
He made another sound. He turned away. “Dismissed. Now, Lekkom, let us discuss how you may make amends for your inferior performance on the abandon-ship drill!” He spoke to the intimidated officer standing at rigid attention in front of him.
* * *
JASMINE PURSED HER lips and let out a faint breath after she left the bridge. She hadn’t expected it to be easy. The captain was an older Rojok. Change came hard to veteran officers. But if she kept her head down, she might survive.
She stowed her gear in the berth to which she was assigned and reported to Dr. Meklor in sick bay.
“Dr. Jasmine Dupont, reporting for duty, sir,” she said formally, and with a rigid salute.
Dr. Meklor glanced at her with twinkling eyes. “Our warwoman,” he said. “I gather that the captain had several bites of you to top off his breakfast?” he teased.
She was surprised by the question and not at all sure how to respond.
He waved a six-fingered hand. “I’m harmless,” he assured her. “Although the captain is not. He has six decorations for courage under fire and he has a reputation for eating recruits raw. You will adjust to him in time. Meanwhile, let me acquaint you with our glowing technology and superior java brewer. This infirmary runs on java, just as I’m told your Tri-Galaxy medical authority on Trimerius does, covertly, of course.”
She couldn’t repress a smile. He reminded her strongly of her unit leader in basic training, the one who’d teased her about mel-leaches.
To her surprise, the doctor turned and chuckled. “Ah, so you trained under my brother,” he said, nodding at her expression, revealing that he had the same telepathic capabilities as his brother. “He loves swamps and predators and insects. I had to survive basic training under him, just as you did. When I graduated, I put a bucket of mel-leaches in his bed and disabled the lights.”
She burst out laughing.
“Yes—” he nodded “—I do have a vindictive personality. It comes in handy aboard this vessel.” He gave her a wicked smile. “The captain can never be certain if his sheets are safe to sleep in.”
She was going to like it here, she decided. Despite the captain.
* * *
THEIR FIRST AWAY mission was the rescue of a party of Jebob archaeologists from an erupting volcano.
“Idiots,” the captain muttered at the briefing, which Jasmine attended with the doctor. “There were seismic patterns for weeks, indicating magma flow. They sat on their common sense and continued digging. Now you see the result. We must put a landing party down and risk the lives of our own people to save theirs!”
Nobody argued.
“Dupont, this is your hour,” he told her with a sarcastic smile. “Several of the Jebob have injuries. You will accompany the landing party and treat them.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
He looked for any sign of reluctance and found none.
“Very well,” he said. “Report every hour, unless the land beneath you becomes molten and swallows you,” he said, waving a hand. “In which case, there are many recruits awaiting assignment back at the academy,” he added nastily.
Jasmine bit her tongue. Dr. Meklor grinned at t
he captain. “In which case, you will be allowed to explain the demise of our warwoman to President Chacon,” he told the ruffled older Rojok. “I shall enjoy the spectacle,” he added with a blithe smile. “Permission to leave, sir?”
“Dismissed,” the captain snarled. His dusky red face was even redder with temper.
Jasmine put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as they made it into the corridor. She was almost bursting with humor.
“Pompous ass,” the doctor said haughtily. “His mate beats him nightly, I hear, and he takes it out on the crew. You be careful,” he said, waving a finger at her. “If you allow yourself to be killed, I will be on the rough side of Chacon’s temper along with the captain. I assure you, I will dig up your body and jump up and down on it if you subject me to such treatment.”
She couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Sir, you are...”
“Incorrigible? I am indeed. Three court-martials, two competency hearings and a legal review, and they still cannot find a way to get rid of me.” He grinned. “It is a reputation of which I am most proud!”
She shook her head. “Sir, I promise never to tick you off. Ever.”
“A wise decision!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE LANDING WAS TRICKY, but their pilot managed it. The ground was rumbling. Jebob archaeologists welcomed their rescuers with overwhelming delight.
“We become so engrossed in our discoveries that we pay attention to nothing else,” the elder of the group told the Rojok landing party. His purple eyes found Jasmine and he hesitated. “A human? Among Rojoks?” he exclaimed. “How extraordinary!”
“I’m a Cularian specialist, sir,” she said with a smile. “I’m here to treat the injured.”
“Extraordinary,” he repeated. “Yes, well, they are here, in the dome.” He grimaced as he glanced at the volcano, which was belching fire. “At least we did not face a pyroclastic flow,” he murmured, “or we should all have died before we could send the distress call.”
“We must be quick, nevertheless,” the ranking officer said. “Earthquakes are no less dangerous, and these present deep crevasses.”
