by Gun Brooke
“I’d sure like to capture a ‘live’ one,” Alex said. “Whoever constructed these little devils has some serious money and brains behind them.”
“I have my guesses,” Emeron said. “You said capture one, sir?”
“Yes, but right now we have to stay clear of them.” Alex gripped his armrests as the pilot made yet another neck-breaking turn, this time sending the hovercraft ascending at almost a ninety-degree angle. Kellen’s head pressed into the backrest and she too had to hold on, despite being strapped in. Hovercraft didn’t employ any inertial dampeners while they were operating within the planet’s atmosphere.
“Any suggestions, Commander?” she asked Emeron.
“Protector, I know this type of hovercraft well. My team and I use them often. They come with quite the setup. The propulsion system is in the back and underneath, obviously, and between the nacelles are shield-enforced compartments.”
Kellen thought she knew where this was going.
“Oh, for stars and skies, I know that look,” Rae groaned. “I see it on Kellen and now on you too, Emeron.”
Kellen studiously ignored her wife and focused on Emeron. It was obvious she was a kindred spirit, and Kellen wanted to hear more.
“Those compartments are intended to transport anything that needs protective shielding, such as biohazard materials, unstable chemicals, explosives, even people heading for quarantine.” Emeron leaned forward, continuing eagerly. “If the pilot descended on one of the bots, which would of course be the tricky part...” The hovercraft jerked again, this time in a quick hairpin maneuver that made them all clutch their armrests.
“I see your point. I need to take the helm. Permission, Captain?” She looked expectantly at Alex.
“You’re going to capture one of those things and bring it aboard the hovercraft?”
“Yes, Captain. It’s our only real hope to find out who’s behind these attacks. At first Dwyn was their target, and I suppose she still is, since they waited to attack until a craft with her aboard took off.”
“And once we’ve tucked it away in this compartment, how do you propose to keep it from firing?”
“Once it’s inside, the fortified shields will take care of that.”
Alex turned to Emeron. “You certain they will hold?”
“Yes, sir. We can release liquid nitrogen to put a damper on them, so to speak. The compartment is fully capable of this.”
“Your call, Admiral,” Alex said finally, raising an eyebrow toward Rae.
“As crazy as it sounds, I think it could work. Kellen, take the helm. Emeron, you ride shotgun.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Emeron said, and unbuckled her seatbelt.
Kellen and Emeron struggled to change places with the pilot and co-pilot, which wasn’t easy as the craft was now under fire and was reeling constantly.
After Kellen slipped into the pilot’s seat, she quickly buckled up, then lowered the visor from the ceiling and reviewed the list of readings that flickered by.
“Adjust the sensors to detect the bots as early as possible the next time they shoot.” She flipped switches and punched in new commands. She was in her true element, though this wasn’t an assault craft, a vessel to which she was more attuned. “Affirmative. Sensors calibrated.”
Kellen switched to manual and took the hovercraft in a wide semicircle around the clearing.
“I want to try and spot them visually.” She could see three of them now, on a direct trajectory toward them. “Here we go.” She pushed the controls first one way, hoping to fool the bots, and when they lined up along this new course, she flipped the controls back, sending the hovercraft into a dive and then climbing sideways, with the craft’s belly turned toward the bots.
“Open the compartment hatch.”
“It’s open.”
Kellen didn’t take her eyes off them. They were preparing to ram them, and if she didn’t hurry, all three of them would hit in rapid succession. “Any sign of the other three?”
“Yes. Farther away, ten o’clock.”
They had time to worry about them later. Kellen shoved the controls away from her, sliding the narrow buttons along the console and making the craft lurch and nearly stall. She heard gasps from the passenger compartment, but couldn’t worry now. “Here we go,” she murmured as she gave full throttle. The propulsion system screamed underneath the hovercraft as it forced itself into an almost impossible angle, defying gravity.
A faint clunking sound, more like a bouncing metallic noise, told her what she needed to know. “Close the hatch.”
“Closed. Fantastic, Kellen. You got two of them,” Emeron said, sounding reverent.
“Two. How about that?” She focused completely on outrunning the remaining bots. No matter what state-of-the-art technology the machines sported, they shouldn’t be able to keep up with a hovercraft. She let the craft climb straight up, squeezing out every drop of power its propulsion system had to offer. Once she gained enough altitude, she let it slide into a shallow dive and picked up more speed than the craft was normally capable of as she whizzed back toward the capital. They passed the outer tree line within minutes and, so far, no one attacked them from behind.
“Perhaps we scared them off when we took a few of them prisoner,” Emeron muttered, making Kellen grin.
“You think they’re sentient beings?” she chided amicably.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Emeron said, and shrugged. “They were like relentless Banatax leeches. And we need to find their weak spots ASAP. If they go after the Disians as a means of revenge...” Emeron’s expression darkened.
“You won’t allow that,” Kellen said. “You’ll find a way to protect them and the Thousand Year Pact.”
“I will.” Emeron looked out the window. “They are my people, my responsibility.”
“That kind of belonging, that passion, will help you find a solution.”
Emeron blinked. “Yes, I suppose it will.” She looked introspective as she slumped back. “One way or another, I have to.”
*
At the Supreme Constellations headquarters, Dwyn insisted they drive her to her hotel and maintained she’d be perfectly safe there. Emeron tried to convince her that she needed to remain in protective custody, since they still didn’t know who was trying to kill her.
“All right. Assign a couple of your most trusted people to guard my door. But I am going to have that bath and eat a proper meal, then sleep in a soft, cozy bed. Nothing you can say will make me change those plans for a stay in the sparse cells you call protective custody.”
“Sounds like you’ve been through that before,” Rae said.
“I have. I’ve been threatened and had attempts on my life. This is more on the high-tech side, but ultimately it’s the same situation.”
Emeron looked displeased. “I’ll come and check on you after I’ve given my report and made sure our best people are dealing with the bots.”
Dwyn shuddered. They’d heard the bots rustle around in the compartment below their feet several times, and she had sensed that they had tried to find a weakness in their prison and, like live entities, tried to escape. She’d be happy to distance herself from the bots, definitely having had enough of them.
“I look forward to it,” she answered Emeron, not wanting to give too much away in front of the others.
“See you then.” Emeron’s eyes were dark, filled with unspoken emotions, and suddenly Dwyn felt those familiar internal tremors again. Her face burned and she had to clear her throat twice before she told the rest of the team good-bye.
“See you soon, Dwyn,” Rae said softly. “Rest up.”
“Thank you, Admiral.”
“Rae.”
“Rae.”
Emeron gestured for two ensigns to join them and issued strict orders not to let her out of their sight until she was safely in her room. They were to report to no one but her.
The ensigns guided Dwyn to a smaller hovercraft and immediately took off
toward the center of the capital.
*
The bath rejuvenated Dwyn in a way she wouldn’t have thought possible. The hot water nearly lulled her to sleep several times. Sipping some Cormanian coffee, she inhaled the aroma of the hot beverage mixed with the soft scent of the soap. Very few things had ever felt as blissful. She tried to figure out how long their ordeal in the Disi-Disi forest had lasted, but couldn’t. She only knew she wasn’t eager to return soon.
Humming, she started the underwater jets and let them massage her tired muscles. Emeron had healed her, but she was still weary from the constant stress. As she washed her hair, she was relieved that it wasn’t as badly damaged from the blast as she’d thought, even if her scalp was still sore.
She stayed in the bathtub until her skin began to wrinkle. The conditioned air felt cool as she stepped out of the water, and she opted to use the thick towels and rub herself dry, instead of the automatic drying sequence, which was less sensual. Wrapping herself in a robe of the same luxurious material, she entered the living room of her suite.
This wasn’t her original room. In fact, it was a suite on the Supreme Council floor usually reserved for active members of the SC Council. She wondered who had pulled some strings with whom. When she had tried to object, the female ensign assigned to protect her suggested that anyone trying to harm her would have had all the time in the world to booby-trap her former room while she was gone. The ensign’s words made sense, and though Dwyn gladly would have used any of the normally priced rooms at the hotel, she was too tired to object. Besides, the desk clerk said that her luggage was already being transferred.
Her security detail had examined the suite and luggage meticulously and left her to enjoy her bath only when they were fully satisfied. Now, she plopped down on the couch and grabbed the control for room service. She was starving for real, fresh food and practically salivated as she perused the menu. When she saw they even had an Earth selection, she ordered vegetable soup, walnut bread, and blueberry pancakes for dessert. The food arrived within twenty minutes and the female ensign brought it in.
“Enjoy your meal, Ms. Izontro.”
“Thanks.” She inhaled the food and sat back, licking her fork before she put it back on the tray. Suddenly feeling cold she tugged a blanket over her. Then she slid down and worked at the pillows until she was comfortable. As tired as she was, she couldn’t relax. Images, painful flashbacks of the bots, of how Emeron had been hit and how the mercenary vessel had moved in on them, kept coming and going, and eventually she gave up and pressed the command to open the large view screen over the fireplace. Still cold, she pressed a sensor on the remote control to start a fire as well.
“Let’s see. News.” Dwyn opened the first channel of the Cormanian broadcasting system. An elegant news anchor looked seriously into the camera as she read her report.
“...and this is the interview our reporter got from an eyewitness.”
The view shifted to a hotel lobby where an eager middle-aged woman stood next to a tall male reporter.
“I’m standing here with Mrs. Exxer, who witnessed what transpired here only a few days ago. Why don’t you tell us what happened?”
“I certainly will.” Mrs. Exxer hijacked the microphone from the interviewing reporter. “I was just window-shopping when I realized who was standing by the toy-store window, only a few steps away. Prince Armeo. Completely unguarded and open to an assassin or a kidnapper.”
“What did you do then, Mrs. Exxer?”
“Well, I realized the dangerous circumstances, of course, and fulfilled my duty as a Supreme Constellations citizen by offering my protection. He had a friend with him, a rude young woman who nearly broke my arm.”
“What preceded her attack?”
“Eh, well, I don’t know. I was merely being helpful, and he is such a cute boy.”
“Didn’t you try to touch him?” another voice asked, and a hotel security guard appeared. The woman paled and sat up. This was getting interesting.
“I did nothing of the sort.”
“Only because the young woman stopped you. You saw the prince, and instead of calmly offering your assistance, you drew attention to him, which attracted a big crowd. The prince wasn’t in any danger before that happened.”
Mrs. Exxer looked stricken and for a moment Dwyn felt sorry for her.
“I plan to press charges anyway,” she finally said triumphantly, which effectively erased Dwyn’s pity. “That girl gave me these.” She held up her arms where five distinct bruises were visible.
“Good luck,” she muttered, and changed channels.
“...and the authorities in charge are certain that these findings will have repercussions throughout our government, as well as among some of our high-profile businessmen and women. The news that the Thousand Year Pact has been violated, and people injured because of it, will no doubt reverberate throughout our system for years to come.” The news anchor went on to describe the Thousand Year Pact, but Dwyn stared blankly at the view screen.
How could things be revealed this quickly? She stood and began to pace, until the answer hit. “Damage control. Of course.” The reporter had mentioned repercussions for both politicians and top business tycoons. Perhaps even the local Cormanian military. Dwyn tried to harness her thoughts. It wouldn’t do to become paranoid.
She sat down at the desk where a security guard had placed her computer bag, pulled out her computer, and accessed a flow-sheet software. She began to fill the chart with everything that had happened since she received her assignment from Aequitas. When she finished, she followed the different timelines and names with her finger and began to slowly relax.
Her initial reaction was correct. The people responsible, and the people who in turn had turned a blind eye to the ones responsible, must have heard that Kellen and Emeron had successfully captured two bots. And something in the bots’ systems would lead the law-enforcement agencies directly to the ones in charge, or at least indirectly responsible. Yes, she decided, indirectly. Since these people wouldn’t take the fall for the ones who commissioned the construction of the bots, everyone was now trying to cut deals, offering up the ones lower in the food chain.
Dwyn curled up in her chair and yawned. This last brainstorm was too much for her poor body. She needed to sleep. Reluctant to leave the cozy fire, she returned to the couch and clicked off the view screen. She was sure Emeron would fill her in when they saw each other and hoped she had found some time to clean up and rest. She would definitely be busy now. Testifying, helping to sort this mess out, and, on a personal level, trying to figure out where she stood regarding her ethnic affiliation. She hoped Emeron would have a little time for her. Hugging this hope to her, Dwyn yawned again and embraced a pillow as she huddled under the blanket.
*
Emeron stood watching Dwyn sleep. She had brought two other ensigns to relieve the ones at Dwyn’s door and let herself in quietly. She told herself she just needed to make sure, to see with her own eyes, that Dwyn was safe. At first, when she wasn’t in the bedroom, Emeron had panicked. Hurrying back to the living room, she found Dwyn asleep on the couch, barely visible among the blankets and pillows.
“Emeron...” Dwyn whispered, and crawled beneath the blanket. “Mmm... Yes.”
Suddenly hot, Emeron unbuttoned her collar and stared down at Dwyn. Her hair flowed over the pillows and the armrest, almost touching the floor. What was she dreaming? Was she having a nightmare?
“Yes, there. Mmm...”
That didn’t sound like a nightmare. She knew she should leave and return to her quarters and finally get some sleep. But she couldn’t take her eyes off Dwyn.
Suddenly Dwyn awoke. “Emeron?”
“Eh, hello.” She placed her hands on the back of the couch and tried to look casual. “Just checking on you.”
“Emeron?” Dwyn sat up, wrestling a little with the blanket that engulfed her. “You’re really here? I mean, already?” Her voice had a husky, sleepy tone
, which sent ripples of pleasure through Emeron.
“As I said. Checking. On you.”
“That’s nice. Can I get you anything? Room service here is very fast.” Dwyn seemed unaware that her robe was open, though the blanket still covered her from the waist down.
“No, no, thank you. I ate at headquarters.”
“No more of those awful ration bars?” Dwyn’s disgusted face made it clear she wasn’t kidding.
“Admiral Jacelon sent out for food during our debriefing. It took quite a while.”
“What time is it?” Dwyn checked the chronometer on the coffee table. “Oh. Six in the morning. And you haven’t slept?”
“Not yet. I’m on my way home.” Emeron’s exhaustion was nearly suffocating her.
Dwyn jumped up and took her hand. The robe fell open completely, treating Emeron to the enticing view of Dwyn’s breasts and the triangular shadow between her legs.
“Oh. Sorry.” Dwyn let go of her and secured the robe around herself with the belt. “All right, come on, then.” She guided her toward the bedroom. “Here. Undress and I’ll use the computer to make you some underwear.”
“It’s all right. I can sleep like this.” She fell into bed and knew she’d be asleep within seconds. She wanted to stay awake longer, to look at Dwyn, perhaps hold her, but she only managed to kick off her boots. She thought she felt soft lips on her forehead and her mouth, and she was certain that a soft voice said, “Sleep well.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Emeron woke slowly, stretching her arms toward the ceiling where a crystal chandelier created an intricate light pattern. She flinched. A chandelier. She’d never stayed at a place with something so luxurious. She sat up and discovered that she was naked. Looking around, she saw no trace of her clothes, and now that she began to recognize her surroundings, she realized Dwyn wasn’t there either.
An object on the nightstand caught her attention. A sanitizer rod. Was that a not-so-subtle hint that she smelled bad? She sniffed her armpit discreetly and ran a hand through her hair. In fact, she smelled of Dwyn’s personal scent. Had Dwyn run the rod over her as she slept? She vaguely remembered being led into this fantastic bedroom last night, or morning. She checked the chronometer. Two in the afternoon. She jumped out of bed, pulling the sheet around her. She had to locate her uniform and return to headquarters immediately.
