Warrior's Valor

by Gun Brooke

  “Lt. Commander within the SC? A Gantharian? Sounds implausible.” She waited, having learned from experience that this approach, provoking people enough to annoy them, made them display their true nature. The only person it hadn’t worked with was Dwyn.

  “Just as plausible as a woman of Disian descent being a commander in the military law enforcement.” Kellen O’Dal spoke promptly and without emphasis.

  Emeron frowned. She hadn’t expected the immediate comeback. Kellen, with her long hair in a tight braid and wearing the SC’s gray mission coveralls, her skin faintly blue, looked so beautiful she nearly hurt Emeron’s eyes. It wasn’t until she was close enough to gaze into her ice blue eyes that she saw her strength.

  “Enough with the niceties,” Leanne said, and approached her with a broad smile. “It’s been too long, Emeron, and we have a lot to catch up on. That will have to wait, since we have a job to do, but we have more in common than you think. It’s good to see you again.” She embraced Emeron, who stood frozen in place within the much-smaller Leanne’s arms. Well aware that Dwyn and her unit were watching from their positions around the clearing, she didn’t want to look as awkward as she felt. She returned the hug quickly. “You too,” she murmured.

  “If we’re all sure who’s who now, perhaps we can continue according to our plan?” a throaty voice said. Another petite redhead appeared, this one with fiery, short hair and a commanding presence. “I’m Admiral Rae Jacelon, and you’ve already met my spouse, Lt. Commander O’Dal. This is Lt. Commander D’Artansis’s spouse, Commander Owena Grey.” Jacelon pointed to the right of the ramp.

  A woman who could have been Emeron’s twin, with her dark hair and stark features, emerged from the port airlock, followed by two large SC marines. Emeron nodded briskly at the new arrivals and motioned for her unit to show themselves. Immediately, they circled the hovercraft. Dwyn walked behind Mogghy, as instructed, with Yhja and Trom.

  “Civilians?” the admiral asked, and Emeron couldn’t judge if she was displeased.

  “Yes, ma’am. Dwyn Izontro is an environmental activist who, you could say, got caught in the line of fire by being with my team. We were on a completely different assignment when our new orders came through. Yhja and Trom are our scouts. They know this part of the forest better than anyone.”

  “All right.” Jacelon greeted the military members of Emeron’s unit, who saluted her smartly. “We have a job to do and a lot hangs in the balance. A team of mercenaries has kidnapped Dahlia Jacelon, my mother. They also helped Hox M’Ekar, a former Onotharian ambassador guilty of war crimes, among other things, to escape. We have no way of knowing, yet, who on board the Viper survived. For now we’re assuming that both my mother and M’Ekar did. We’ve brought the latest cutting-edge tracking and scanning equipment, which we hope will enable us to catch up with them. Hopefully, we’ll then be able to devise a rescue plan.”

  “We’ve come across their tracks a few times, Admiral, but since we had to make the rendezvous time here, we could only place beacons. Hopefully the trail won’t be too cold.”

  “Good thinking, Commander.” Jacelon looked at each of them, and Emeron had to admit that it felt better to have someone to share the responsibility with. Being in command of this mission had weighed on her mind the last few days. And as the danger level escalated she became increasingly concerned about Dwyn’s safety, which threatened to distract her from her ability to direct her unit.

  “I’ll brief you regarding what you need to know to carry out your duty successfully and safely,” Jacelon continued, addressing the whole group. “I don’t care if you catch M’Ekar dead or alive, and neither does anyone within the SC. When it comes to my mother, we must retrieve her alive and well, since she is invaluable to the SC, both when it comes to the war effort and our internal affairs. We cannot, and I repeat, cannot, allow her to be taken off this planet and across the border into intergalactic space.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Emeron said. She couldn’t detect any pain in Jacelon’s voice over her mother’s fate. Jacelon and she were apparently similar, able to drop everything personal and simply do the job. Well, that’s how I’ve been until lately.

  “As for the crew of the Viper, they’ve committed a capital offence under the law of many of the SC worlds, including Corma, and I for one would like to see all of them stand trial.”

  Jacelon continued to brief them in greater detail before giving the order to move out. “I want you to take the lead with your scouts, Lt. Mogghy. Commander D’Artansis. Damn it, this is going to be confusing. Two Commanders D’Artansis in the same unit.” Jacelon rubbed her temple.

  “Why don’t you call me by my first name, Admiral?” Leanne suggested. “After all, we know each other well, and I’d react as quickly to that as to my title.”

  “All right. Everyone clear?” Jacelon glanced around her. “D’Artansis, you will bring up the rear with the marines. Okay. Let’s go.”

  Everyone gathered their back-strap security carriers, and Yhja and Trom led, followed by Mogghy and Noor, while Emeron and Dwyn went to the back. The marines walked behind them.

  She glanced at Dwyn, then returned her focus to their surroundings, as well as the scanner on top of her weapon. “You haven’t said a word since they arrived.” She thought it strange that Dwyn quietly strode beside her, not even attempting any conversation or small talk.

  “Well, I’m not used to being around celebrities. I’m a simple kind of girl.”

  “What are you talking about? Celebrities?”

  “Yes, and two of them at a time are a bit much.” Dwyn wrinkled her nose and laughed softly. “I’m joking. Not about the celebrity part, of course, but the intimidation. I never thought I’d even be on the same planet as a Gantharian protector. Let alone two.”

  Emeron felt like she had stepped off the real world and into the middle of a fairy tale where she had missed the opening chapter. “What the hell are you talking about?” She was careful not to raise her voice. “Protectors? Of what? And where?”

  Dwyn looked like she was going to stop, and Emeron placed a hand in the small of her back to urge her to keep moving.

  “You’re joking,” Dwyn said. “Or you haven’t you been watching any news broadcasts for the last year?”

  “I normally don’t watch those things unless they directly influence my job. The news isn’t very uplifting, and I see enough hardship in my line of work.” She felt silly for being so defensive, but Dwyn’s slight frown indicated that not watching the news was not only strange, but somehow reproachable.

  “Surely you know why we’re rattling weapons on our side of the border and the Onotharian Empire is rattling right back from its corner.”

  “Of course. The unlawful occupation that’s lasted for twenty-five years.”

  “And?”

  “And the fact that the SC finally has proof of crimes committed toward the Gantharian people.”

  “And?”

  Annoyed at this game, she shook her head. “Why don’t you just tell me?”

  “Who provided the SC with that intel?” Dwyn wasn’t easily swayed and was apparently set on making this into a riddle.

  “Some SC commodore.”

  “Now promoted. Now married to a Gantharian, who happens to be a Protector of the Realm. A guardian to the last member of the Gantharian Royal Family.”

  Emeron paused, astounded that she was heading up a unit under orders to assist the two women responsible for more political bombshells than she could count. Not to mention that they were living proof of the mythical stories about the protectors. Glancing behind them, she saw the marines nod. All was well back there. She relaxed marginally.

  “And just when I thought my life was turned upside down as it is. Totally weird. Completely and utterly crazy.” She groaned and ran a hand over her face.

  “You calling me weird and crazy?” Dwyn wrinkled her nose. “A bit on the rude side, if you ask me.”

  “Rude?” Certain she sounded like a rep
etitive gomesk’a bird, she refused to groan again. Instead she reset her brain, the way she would do if facing an impossible tactical dilemma while in a code-red situation. She cleared her mind of all unnecessary information and sorted the important facts into neat compartments. Now calm, she felt like serenity personified.

  “Well, not rude, perhaps. Your words give you away, you know.” Dwyn shattered her calm with one look, a long curly tress escaping her usually tamed hair and caressing her jawline. “You can be so transparent sometimes.” Mischievousness sparkled in Dwyn’s eyes, and Emeron didn’t know whether to be angry or exasperated. To her surprise, she couldn’t help but smile.

  “Transparent, huh? I think I can still surprise you, maitele.”

  Dwyn drew a deep, shaky breath and stumbled. “I should know better than to challenge you, I guess. You can never resist the competition.”

  “You’re flirting with me, maitele.” She held Dwyn’s elbow and made sure they kept walking, not slowing the others down.

  “Not really. I mean, only a little.” When Dwyn glanced quickly at her, the fire in her eyes made Emeron lose her breath. “What does ‘maitele’ mean?”

  “I’ll tell you some other time.” Emeron fought to keep her focus. She needed to keep an eye on her sensors.

  “I’ll take that as a promise.” Dwyn winked discreetly as she moved up to walk in front of her, since the path had narrowed suddenly.

  Concentrating on the march through the increasingly dense forest, Emeron was sure Dwyn wouldn’t give up until she knew what the word meant. She scanned the area again, thinking how foolish she had been to call Dwyn “darling” in Disianii.

  *

  “We cannot, Armeo.” Ayahliss injected all the authority she could muster into her voice.

  “But we can. You heard Kellen and Rae. We’re safe here at the hotel. We’re inside a military base, Ayahliss. And we won’t leave the hotel.”

  “Your grandfather will punish us.” Especially me. She folded her arms across her chest. “And we promised to follow their instructions.”

  “We will. We’ll just do it down in the lobby where all the stores are. I saw them when we arrived. They have so many interesting things there. If Kellen and Rae were here, we’d have explored them ages ago.”

  “They aren’t here, and we’re not going to explore—”

  “Ah, come on, Ayahliss, just half an hour. The guards won’t even know we’re gone. We can slip out the back door to the suite.”

  “I didn’t know there was a back door.” She frowned. “That’s a security issue in itself.”

  “There’s one behind the walk-in closet in Rae and Kellen’s bedroom.”

  “You sneaky little—”

  “Hey. You’re talking to your prince, remember.” He laughed and threw a pillow at her. She caught it and grimaced at the pain in her side.

  “Please, Ayahliss,” he said, apparently changing tactics. “I’m going crazy being locked up in here. Just half an hour.”

  “We shouldn’t…” She felt her resolve diminish.

  “It’ll be so much fun. I have credits. Granddad gave me some Cormanian currency. He said I could spend it later. Well, later is today.”

  Her heart melted at Armeo’s apparent joy. It was so obvious that he needed a little distraction. His mothers, and his grandmother, were in danger, his grandfather had to work most of the time, and all he had was her, who loved him and would die for him. Surely she could take him safely to the store he wanted to visit? “All right,” she said, and regretted her words almost instantly. “Let’s go downstairs for fifteen minutes. Not a second more.”

  “Oh, thank you.” He threw his arms around her. “I promise, I promise.”

  She put on shoes and they crept down the hall to Kellen and Rae’s room. The guards were in the sitting room, playing some game on the main screen. They had started only a few minutes earlier and would surely be occupied with it for several hours.

  Armeo pulled her toward a narrow, nearly invisible door, decorated seamlessly to match the wall next to it. She took over, opening it just enough to peek outside. The corridor was empty, the glass and mirror hallways seemingly abandoned. She took Armeo by the hand and they ran over to the elevator.

  “Armeo, it needs a pass.” She stared at the door that had closed behind them.

  “And here it is.” He produced a small glass card interwoven with a thin strand of a yellow metal alloy. “Like so.” He swiped it across the sensor and the elevator door opened.

  “The lobby with the stores was on the eightieth floor, right?” she asked as she perused the control panel.

  “Yes. There.” He pointed, pressing the sensor before she had a chance. She had to smile at his eagerness, and again her heart swelled with sisterly affection. It wasn’t hard to guess that he was lonely sometimes, especially when all the grownups around him were busy with politics and military affairs. He had spoken of his best friend many times, Dorinda de Vies, a girl his age. But he hadn’t been able to spend any time with her for quite a while. He was brave, and more mature than any boy his age, or even older, but he was a kid, after all.

  “We’re here.” Armeo was about to jump out the door as the elevator stopped, but she prevented him, making sure nobody was standing just outside before he exited. A few people were window shopping, and others, some in uniform and some civilians, were inside the stores.

  “Oh, look at that.” Armeo’s dreamy voice caught her attention and she joined him at a window. A set of four hovering miniature assault craft floated inside with blue and yellow rays piercing the air.

  “You’d enjoy playing with that?” she asked, uncertain how that could possibly be fun. “They aren’t the real thing. The weapons, I mean.”

  “Oh, Ayahliss, of course they aren’t.” He laughed, a contagious sound that made her join him, even if she felt a bit silly for her assumption that he hadn’t realized this. “They’re toys, and you can play with four people, guide them by remote as you’re firing on each other. The vessel that takes the most hits loses, of course.”

  “Of course.” She answered automatically as more people were now sauntering through the commercial area of the hotel. Some had turned their heads as Armeo laughed, and a few of them were pointing.

  “Armeo, we should leave.” Her heart thundered. Something was wrong.

  “No, it’s only been three minutes. Five at the most.” He dragged her toward the store entrance. “I have to go ask if I have enough Cormanian currency.”

  The murmur from the group of people who had just pointed at Armeo grew, and some of them began to walk toward him. Ayahliss knew if they entered the store, they’d be trapped. “Armeo, come on.” She pulled back, but her side hurt and she could hardly hold on to him as he yanked her in the other direction.

  “No. Just this one store.”

  “Prince Armeo.” A loud female voice pierced the noise around them. “It is him. Oh, Gods, look. It’s the Gantharian prince.”

  Armeo heard and understood this time. Suddenly pale, he clung to Ayahliss’s arm as the crowd moved closer. The faces were not unkind, and Ayahliss tried to convince herself that the people were merely curious since Armeo was such a celebrity, but she knew that an enemy could be hiding within the multitude of people.

  “Ayahliss.” Armeo backed up against the window, and the people neared. Men, women, and children all came out of nowhere, it seemed, to look at him.

  “I have you. I’m not letting go. Just smile and say hello.” Perhaps that would defuse things.

  He smiled politely, a tremulous, nervous smile. “Hello. Nice to meet you. I have to go now.”

  “Why are you on Corma, Prince Armeo?”

  “Who’s that young woman with you?”

  “When are you going to Gantharat?”

  “Where’s your protector?”

  Questions assaulted them, and the voices drowned out any answer Armeo tried to give. When finally a woman tried to touch his hair, Ayahliss had had enough. She ke
pt hold of Armeo’s hand, but grabbed the woman’s arm and the stranger wailed, “She’s hurting me.”

  The people around them fell silent, but Ayahliss didn’t let go. “Move away from him,” she demanded as forcefully as she could. “Can’t you see you’re scaring him?”

  “I suggest you do as she requests,” an unfamiliar voice said. “That arm looks like it could snap any second.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Judge Beqq,” Armeo gushed, and the look of relief on his face told Amereena Beqq that she’d arrived just in time. She had walked through the entrance of the hotel, on her way to her suite, before returning to the orbiting Dalathea, when the crowd caught her attention. She had debated whether to investigate, but a woman’s cry decided for her. The last thing she expected to see was Prince Armeo without security, being protected only by a Gantharian-looking woman.

  “You know her?” the woman asked Armeo, her Premoni tinged with an unusual accent that sounded like Kellen’s.

  “She’s Judge Beqq, the one who awarded Kellen and Rae custody of me.” Armeo tugged at his companion, who finally let go of the woman’s arm. Rubbing her wrist fiercely, she glowered at Armeo’s friend.

  “She should be arrested for assault,” she hissed, and the man next to her nodded.

  “Yes, let’s call security,” Beqq agreed. “We can ask them to investigate how all of you mobbed a member of the Gantharian royal family and, by doing so, endangered his life.”

  “His life?” the woman said in falsetto. “We haven’t endangered anything. We were just—”

  “Curious? And, by that, drawing attention to a boy you ought to know is always in danger of kidnapping or attacks from political opponents.”

  “If he’s in that much in danger,” the man next to the upset woman sneered, “then why is he running around the shops without an escort?”

  “Good question.” Beqq turned to Armeo, who blushed deeply. “I think it’s time we went back to your suite and found out.” The crowd dispersed as Beqq guided them to the elevator, where Armeo quietly swiped his pass. “And who are you, my dear?” she asked Armeo’s fierce escort.