The Demon's Change

by Donna McDonald

  “I am my daughter’s confidante. I take that honor very seriously. Rest assured, Kefira would not share your struggles with just anyone,” Jilco replied. “That said, you should probably keep that guard up during our meeting with the generals. I believe you’ll agree shortly.”

  When the four of them walked into the conference room together, those present stood and bowed their heads, first to the High Ambassador, and then to Synar’s group. It was strange to see three Peace Alliance generals in full dress uniforms crowded into the small room, especially when no military action was being discussed. With the six of them fully dressed, it looked like some sort of military ceremony.

  Synar recognized the officer that remained standing after the other two had lowered themselves into their seats again. He bowed his head a second time to the still standing male, all the while hoping the object of his focused interest had forgotten their many service disagreements over the years.

  “Greetings, General Anx,” Synar said. He spoke first to make sure the Orza male knew he had recognized him. “The High Ambassador didn’t tell me who would be meeting with us. It is good to see you again.”

  “Welcome, Liam Synar . . . or I should say—Captain Synar. It’s been almost an Earth century since we last saw each other, hasn’t it? Congratulations on your advancement. I hope the Creators have been similarly kind to you in your personal life. How is Ambassador Looren faring these days? High Ambassador Jilco said the two of you were mated now. It was surprising news about a female who avoided that kind of commitment for centuries.”

  Synar’s gaze moved from the general to High Ambassador Jilco passing behind Anx and shaking his head. He took that as an indicator that he should lie to him. “My mate is faring just fine, General. Ania now serves as our ship’s Peace Keeper. Thank you for inquiring about her.”

  Synar saw Jilco’s head nod in approval as he made his way to his seat.

  “Captain Synar, if you and your crew don’t mind, I’ll be happy to make the rest of the introductions,” Jilco said.

  Dorian started to pull out a chair for Gwen, but checked the urge when he noticed one of the generals openly assessing her. His mate returned the male’s derogatory look with one that was usually very effective in discouraging unwanted interest. Knowing the Ler male posed no real threat, Dorian sat in the chair beside Gwen’s and turned his attention to a closer study of the others in the room.

  “Since you seem to already know General Anx, let me introduce General Zorn and General Meen. I asked them to come meet with you today,” Jilco said.

  Synar watched Jilco frown at the way General Meen was staring at Gwen. He narrowed his gaze, studying Meen even as he addressed all of the generals. “To my right is my second on the ship, Commander Gwen Jet. Next to her is my Counselor, Lieutenant Dorian Zade.”

  “Zade is also my mate,” Gwen declared flatly, her gaze never wavering from the general who had been staring at her non-stop.

  “A Siren mate?” Meen repeated, chuckling at the irony. “Why do you still serve the Peace Alliance? I don’t know what they’re thinking these days.”

  “They are thinking that my mate’s leadership is unquestionable,” Dorian said quietly, energetically demanding the disrespectful male’s attention shift to him. And it did. “Why does this arrangement surprise you so much, General Meen? Frankly, it suits us very well.”

  “Everyone knows how tightly Sirens control their females, a situation most males secretly envy but refuse to admit to doing so. If your captain tolerates such unnatural pairings among his highest ranked crew members, it doesn’t really matter what I think of her so-called command,” Meen jeered, grinning at Gwen’s glare. “Your commander does seem to retain her faculties more than most Siren mates I’ve met. You must not be full Siren, Lieutenant Zade.”

  “Would you like to know what their captain thinks, General Meen? Their captain thinks this entire conversation is a waste of everyone’s time,” Synar said firmly, tired of the baiting. “Is there some reason we’re engaging in a useless question and answer session about the personal relationships of my crew members?”

  “That’s enough, Meen,” Anx said sharply, ignoring the Ler male’s laughter over having aggravated all three of the Liberator’s crew. Meen had no knowledge of Dorian Zade, but Anx had seen the Siren kill more ruthlessly than any warrior he’d ever known, except for the one now mated to Liam Synar. “Our apologies, Captain Synar. We most certainly did not come here to discuss personal relationships among your crew.”

  “Speak for yourself, Anx. I don’t see how these three so easily provoked creatures can do what others could not,” Meen said, leaning back in his chair. “All personal attachments make you weak and incapable of doing what is necessary. Synar’s collection of misfits will fail more quickly than the rest of us did. Personally, I think High Ambassador Jilco’s idea is a waste of our time.”

  Synar’s head swiveled as High Ambassador Jilco cleared his throat loudly to interrupt Meen’s insulting tirade.

  “Captain Synar and his crew not only found my daughter, but they managed to rescue Kefira with a minimum of casualties on Lotharius. Ambassador Onin assures us Orem Sel is cooperating and handling the mate releases personally. All other treaties remain in place which was the highest request of the Peace Alliance . . . or have you forgotten you were part of that plan as well, General Meen? Synar and his crew have a record of doing what others have tried and failed to accomplish.”

  Gwen’s derisive snort over the pissing contest among the males drew attention to her, but Synar shook his head. She pressed her lips together against the comments she wanted to make about the planet of Lotharius. How the rescue crew had kept from killing Orem Sel was still a mystery to her. After what she had endured there, she and Zade would have never had that much restraint. Synar had been right not to send either of them.

  “Cease arguing Meen, and show proper respect to Ambassador Jilco’s wishes,” Anx ordered.

  Synar watched General Meen draw in breath, no doubt in preparation for round two of seeing how much he could aggravate the others. What in Helios was going on here? He looked at Jilco, but the High Ambassador’s gaze was now fixed determinedly on the conference room door.

  When General Zorn finally spoke, his deep voice filled the room with a resonance that affected everyone. Synar felt the male’s calming energy, and knew Dorian did as well. Gwen just looked relieved when everyone’s attention turned from her to Zorn. It was obvious Meen had a serious problem with females and Synar felt sorry for any female serving under him. He also felt sorry he couldn’t give Gwen about three minutes alone with the pompous windbag.

  “We did not ask to meet the Guardian 13’s new crew to debate their suitability for the upcoming mission. Captain Synar’s record of achievements is quite clear, as are the records of his crew members, especially Ania Looren’s. She was my trainer during academy. I don’t know as I ever saw her defeated in all the time I knew her,” Zorn said. “Of course, her service as an ambassador stands for itself as well. In war or peace, she excels. Choosing such a mate to live at his side, I have no doubt that Captain Synar has picked crew members with exceptional traits.”

  Synar studied the older male, picked up on the wistfulness in his speech, and then set the male’s admiration of Ania aside. Whatever her relationship to Zorn had been, Ania was his mate now. Since Malachi had extended her long life even further, Ania would likely take another mate or two after he was long gone. He thought of the children that she carried—his children. They made any past Ania had with Zorn completely irrelevant.

  “I agree. I don’t think my mate has been defeated yet, General. She would certainly appreciate knowing you hold such a high esteem for her skills,” Synar said as casually as he could, bowing his head slightly. “But if you all don’t mind cleaving through the niceties—why don’t you tell us why you and the other generals are really here? It doesn’t take three Peace Alliance generals to commission a refurbished ship.”

  “No
, it doesn’t,” Zorn replied. “But Ambassador Jilco hasn’t yet told you the full extent of the Guardian 13’s renovations. The ship comes with missions that the craft is ideally suited for, Captain Synar. The first one is a thwarted rescue of a very important female. You’re under no obligation to accept the ship of course. Also, no obligation to follow the assignments of the commission. You could return to the Liberator and no one would think less of you for that choice. You and your crew are an asset to the Peace Alliance either way.”

  Synar frowned at the strange statement. “You’re going to have to clarify those comments, General Zorn. Rescuing people is what we already do on the Liberator, so I’m not following your explanation. And I don’t recall ever being told that receipt of the Guardian level ship was contingent on anything.”

  Zorn lifted a hand to the silver haired male sitting at end of the table. “I regret my words are causing more confusion. Perhaps Ambassador Jilco is better suited to explain.”

  Synar looked at the male in question, eyebrow raised at Jilco’s guilty look.

  “Kefira often has premonitions . . . what she calls visions,” Jilco said softly. “Frequently she can identify people that the Peace Alliance needs to protect. These beings are not typical political dignitaries like you’ve been used to helping, Captain Synar. They often have special abilities that make them critically valuable. General Meen has been looking for one of them for some time now. We thought we would see if you would take over his search. The Guardian 13 is merely an incentive. It was created to help you.”

  Synar shifted his gaze to Dorian’s. “I’m not doing well sorting this out. What are you getting from this?”

  Dorian shrugged, his assessing gaze shifting from general to general. “Everyone assembled here is keeping things from us. I don’t trust any of the generals at this point. They are all unhappy to be here and resentful of something we haven’t been told yet. I haven’t seen what it is, but I am still looking.”

  Ignoring the grumblings of Meen and the squirming of the other two generals, Synar looked to Gwen, who was studying Jilco closely. “Your intuition telling you anything, Commander Jet?”

  “Do you want my honest thoughts? Or do you want me to follow the political protocol they’ve been shoveling at us since we got here?”

  “Since they seem so interested in how we get things done, let’s go for honest thoughts. Don’t hold anything back,” Synar said, waving away Gwen’s concern. “I want to get to the bottom of what we’re getting into. I’m not involving the crew in what keeps sounding like an elaborate political game. Our job is to save people, not play politics. That’s a job for the ambassadors.”

  Gwen pulled off her hat and set it beside her on the table. “I don’t need my intuition to know what’s going on here. They want us because they think we can do what they can’t which apparently is something General Meen has failed to do,” she said, inclining her head toward the still openly glaring male. “My guess is that’s why he’s acting like he is. Sounds like the Guardian 13 is a lure, but also sounds like what we will need it if we take their bait. I also think it bites General Meen’s ass that two of your highest crew members are female, Synar. Neither of those females would give a shit about his opinion, but I’m just saying he’s not happy to have High Ambassador Jilco and the other generals twisting his arm over us. But they also want us to do this—we’ve been hand-picked.”

  “Bottom line, Commander?” Synar asked.

  “If we agree to take the ship, we might as well accept that we’re going to be used. With generals failing to get it done, the work sounds like it’s also going to be a lot more challenging than what we’ve been doing so far. That means more danger and higher risk for all of the crew.”

  Meen’s huffing and low swearing had Synar pinning him with a glare. “Problem, General? Did Ambassador Jilco not mention that most of my crew members are full intuitives, even my Earthling commander? Though she rarely has to use it to dig through Klageldon dung. Now my mate is a completely different kind of intuitive. Ania can pluck the truth from your mind as easily as she picks up a piece of food from her dinner plate. Maybe I should have brought her with us. I can assure you my mate would have already figured out what this is about whether you wanted us to know or not.”

  “Zo lax pere une,” Meen said, directing his insult to Synar because he refused to look at the disrespectful female again.

  “You are wise to keep your gaze from meeting my mate’s, General,” Dorian said softly, not raising his voice. “Under Peace Alliance laws, I could demand retribution for you insulting her in my presence. I speak your language, as does she. Your insults are undeserved.”

  Meen pounded the table, rose, and left the room.

  “Thank the Creators. The energy in here is much better now,” Synar said with a fake smile directed at the other two officials. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed for the first time since they had arrived. Meen’s absence had lifted the energy in the room considerably. “Why don’t the rest of you tell us about this mysterious female that needs rescuing? I’d appreciate it greatly if you would tell us the whole truth about the matter. It would make our discussions about the task much more productive.”

  Synar watched the other two generals exchange concerned looks with each other. The door to the conference room slid open then and Kefira walked in. Her sigh over the conflict energy in the room was loud and long suffering. Synar certainly agreed with her exasperation. He felt the same about it.

  “I told you to ask them,” Kefira said, chastising her father. When she lifted her gaze, she bowed her head to the remaining generals. “I know General Meen is not happy with today’s events, but I remain convinced Captain Synar and his crew are right for this task. Since all military actions to date have failed, we must explore more creative retrieval options.”

  Synar watched Anx stand and bow his head to Kefira. Then Zorn rose, just a beat behind him. They both looked respectfully at High Ambassador Jilco. Then they bowed their heads to all of them and walked out without another word . . . not even goodbye. It was strange protocol given what they knew of Kefira’s status.

  After the door closed behind the exiting generals, he looked back at the mild, unassuming version of Kefira who stood quietly facing them. With her hair tied back, she looked every bit the serious, quiet female she was without an emissary in residence. He hadn’t missed the fact that her worried gaze remained fixed primarily on him. Synar smiled a little, but his guard was up for her as well now. It was impossible to trust someone who routinely kept things from you. He opened his mouth, not sure of what he intended to say, but Gwen’s laughter stopped him from speaking.

  “Great trick in getting rid of the other generals, Kefira. Where were you when Meen was harassing us? We had to run him off on our own.”

  Synar saw Gwen grin when Dorian chuckled over her snide comments. The quiet “indeed” Dorian muttered made his mouth twitch as well. He wasn’t completely sure, but he thought he saw a flicker of amusement in Kefira’s timid but steady gaze. Rather than laugh, Synar heard her sigh just before she launched into her explanation.

  “I-eeta is the last Allurean. Within her body lies the ability to completely regenerate. For this remarkable capacity, all of her kind were hunted, captured, and experimented on by every planet that could do so. By the time the Peace Alliance could share information between planets, it was widely concluded that the regenerative ability was a true gift only resident in a few Allureans. Unfortunately, the conclusion came too late to convince their persecutors that the Allurean race had no secret for immortality. They suffered a galaxy wide genocide of their culture. The only known survivor at this time is a female who has been working for the Peace Alliance in exchange for cultural asylum.”

  “Did you find the Allurean or did she find you?” Synar asked, not sure why it was important to him to know the answer, but he followed his gut without question.

  Kefira shrugged. “I cannot say. I-eeta’s employment precedes mine. I
do not even know her history. My understanding is that she sought help from the earliest Peace Alliance council. She was working with our medical community until several months ago when she disappeared. Indications are that she was kidnapped after a struggle at her residence. We found some discarded bindings and some of her life force. We’re trying to find her before she is accidentally killed by those who do not realize her real worth.”

  “What has the Peace Alliance been doing with what they have learned from the Allurean?” Synar asked, ignoring the kidnapping report.

  “Many things,” Kefira said softly, sliding into a chair beside her father. “For one, they cured the very disease your Dr. Chiang almost lost his life to during his last medical assignment on Greggor.”

  “Been reading the bios of my crew?” Synar asked.

  “That information is standard in the records of Peace Alliance employees, Captain. The Greggor plague is just one example. Even among her people, I-eeta would have been unique because she can control her regeneration cycle, sending herself through the process whenever she wishes. Her molecular structure is a valuable commodity. Her life force has a very high street value even though little has been accomplished by studying that alone. It is the process she controls within her body that teaches us.”

  “Do you know where she is being held?” Synar asked.

  “In a vision, I saw she was a prisoner somewhere on Norblade. General Meen failed to find her, but so did Generals Zorn and Anx before him. That’s why they were all here today. And that’s why they were angry. I wish they would have shared their failures so you could have learned from them. I don’t see them willing to do that now, but we have their reports at least.”

  Norblade? She was on his planet? Synar straightened in his seat.

  “How can the female be a prisoner on my home planet? Norblade is one of the seven founding planets of the Peace Alliance. Why haven’t the local governments gotten involved?”