Ruin: A Seven Stars Novel (Dark Tide Trilogy Book 3)

by Dayne Edmondson

  Better than Marines and naval personnel, she means, Rachel thought.

  "What happened next?"

  "I grabbed the intel on the Cult of Rae, fought off some intruders and evacuated."

  "I'm sorry for your loss."

  Bridgette looked him in the eyes. "Don't be sorry. I'm not sorry. I'm angry. I'm ready to kick ass and take down the names of the traitors."

  "We will get revenge, I promise."

  "Where to next?" the president asked.

  "We will rendezvous with the Independence. Do you know where they were last, Mr. President?"

  "Yes. But so do the traitors, I fear."

  "We just have to make one stop first and then we will go to them."

  Chapter 14 - Dancing in the Moonlight

  Kimberly, Baillidh and Corbin passed through the checkpoint to return to the wealthy part of town without issue. They arrived back at the Federation embassy and returned to their room.

  "All right, so what's the plan?" Corbin asked.

  "Well, we need to get Baillidh into the server room," Kimberly began. "Any ideas on how to do that?"

  "Yes," Baillidh agreed. "I need to physically connect my datapad to the server to access it or use a transmitter to establish a secure connection."

  Corbin pointed to a vent on the wall. "'Ow ‘bout crawlin' through the vent?"

  "Who's going to do the crawling," Kimberly asked. "You?"

  "'Oi'm small enough, ain't oi? Or are ye callin' me fat?"

  "Well, you have been drinking a lot," Kimberly noted.

  Corbin stood up straighter and sucked in his stomach. "Well, oi can still suck in me gut, don't you worry."

  "Now let's see if we can lift you up there," Baillidh said.

  Kimberly looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. "Did you just make a joke, Baillidh?" He never made jokes.

  Baillidh shrugged. "You two are rubbing off on me, I guess."

  "Always with da fat jokes," Corbin grumbled.

  "Wait," Baillidh held up a hand. "I have to give you a transmitter." He rummaged around in his backpack for several moments until his hand emerged clutching a small device. "Plug this into a socket on the server and I'll be able to tap in just as if I were plugged in directly."

  Corbin took the transmitter and approached the wall beneath the vent. "Give me a boost, will ye?"

  "Do you know where you're going?" Kimberly asked.

  "Well, no, but oi figured ye would tell me when oi got there."

  I guess the alcohol is still going to his head, Kimberly thought. "Baillidh, can you pull up a map?"

  "Yeah, give me a second," he said, eyes glued to the datapad. A moment later a hologram projected out of the back of it. "We are here," he said, pointing to a blinking red dot inside a room near the top of the embassy. "The server room is here." A blinking blue dot appeared two floors below them on the other side of the building.

  "At least oi'll be going downhill, otherwise oi'd need me climbin' gear." He cracked his knuckles and approached the wall. "Give me a lift, will ye?"

  Kimberly put her hand beneath one foot and Baillidh beneath another and together they lifted Corbin up. He opened the vent and crawled inside. "'Ere I go."

  His movement made a clanging sound at first, but it soon faded. "What's your status?" Kimberly asked several minutes later.

  "Gettin' a little tight in 'here," Corbin reported. "But oi'm comin' up on the room now. Oi...dropping...in," static obscured his words.

  "Corbin? Corbin?" Kimberly asked. She looked at Baillidh.

  He shrugged. "Probably interference. It shouldn't interfere with my transmitter, though, as it's set on a different frequency."

  "If Corbin succeeds. He could have been captured already for all we know."

  A beep sounded from Baillidh's datapad. "Well, he hasn't been captured yet, ma'am. I'm getting a signal from the transmitter." He tapped on the datapad for several seconds. "I'm in. Downloading the files now. Corbin can come back."

  "I don't have any way to reach him," Kimberly said. For a moment she considered shouting into the vents, but she knew he wouldn't hear her.

  "Did ye get what ye need?" Corbin's voice came over the comm.

  Kimberly breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes! You can come back now."

  "Do oi leave the transmitter thingy behind?"

  "Yes," Baillidh said. "It gives us a back door and it has a self-destruct mechanism if it's detected and removed."

  "Aye, on me way back." He hesitated. "Eh, how do oi get back up them vents I slid down?"

  "Baillidh, the map again please," Kimberly asked. "Hang tight, Corbin."

  "Don' worry, lass. Oi ain't got nowhere to go."

  She zoomed in and studied the rooms along the floor he was on, as well as below him. "I found a spot. Go three vents over and drop down. It's a broom closet."

  "Oi always wanted ta come out o' the closet," he said. He kept his comm open as he shuffled through the vent. "Oof, tha' screw 'urt." At last came a "'ere we go," followed by a thud. "Made it," he said.

  "Get back here ASAP," Kimberly ordered.

  "Awe, oi was thinkin' abou' stoppin' ta flirt wit' the pretty girls. Oi guess oi'll put it off fer now."

  Kimberly rolled her eyes.

  Several minutes later he arrived. She suspected he had stopped to flirt with at least one girl, based on the silly grin on his face. "Thank you for joining us. Baillidh, show him what we've got."

  "Well, we're no closer to finding out who the mole is, but we do know where the transmission went. It was text-based."

  "And? Don't keep us in suspense," Kimberly demanded.

  "Artois Industries," he said after another suspense-building moment.

  "One of the merchant houses?" Kimberly asked, racking her brain.

  "Aye. One o' the worst," Corbin said.

  "The transmission mentions 'the cargo,' which I presume to mean the Krai'kesh," Baillidh noted.

  Kimberly nodded. "We knew at least one merchant house was behind the Krai'kesh infiltration of Crossroad Station, but now we have proof it was House Artois." She paused. "Well, we have proof they were behind the attack on the resistance forces. But this file," she pointed to the datapad, "wouldn't contain any other information about how many Krai'kesh there are in our galaxy or where House Artois has been moving them, would it?"

  "No, ma'am," Baillidh said. "Not unless they were transmitting that information to the mole, which would be highly unlikely."

  "Well, it's something. But we need more."

  "So wha's the next step?" Corbin asked.

  "We infiltrate House Artois," Kimberly said.

  "'Ow we gonna do tha'?"

  Kimberly smiled. "By faking it till we make it."

  ***

  Kimberly held her head high as she waited in line to enter the Artois estate. Women in elaborate dresses and men in stylish suits chatted, gossiped, and laughed all around her. She did not tug at her dress or do anything that would show her discomfort in the high heel shoes she wore. Why did she always end up wearing high heels when going undercover?

  Corbin stood behind her and to her right, dressed in a dapper suit. He did pick at his suit. He also grumbled words under his voice.

  "What are you doing?" Kimberly whispered, turning her head as little as possible to not draw attention.

  "Gettin' inta character, m'lady. Remember, oi'm the bumblin' idiot servant."

  "Well, you're being convincing. Keep it up." She turned her attention back to her surroundings. She cast her haughty gaze over the participants around her waiting in line, then swept her eyes across the rooftop and toward the estate grounds. Security was tight, with guards on the roof and scattered around the lawn. Guard towers occupied the corners of the large perimeter fence. Is this a fortress or a house? she wondered.

  The line moved faster and she was soon passing through the security scanner. Part of the discomfort she struggled to suppress came from having to leave her pistol with Baillidh outside the perimeter. He assured her there was no
way to smuggle the weapon in considering the advanced technology the security forces were using.

  The guard swiped her identi-card and a moment later a beep sounded. He handed it back. "Welcome to the party, Madam Sommrich," a servant dressed like Corbin said from beyond the scanner. He bowed from the waist and extended an arm straight out, fingers pointing toward the interior of the building.

  Kimberly gave a regal sniff and passed through. Corbin went through security without incident, though the servant who welcomed Kimberly was silent as he passed and fell into position behind her as they entered a lavish hallway. A red runner covered the tile floor and directed their path. Old-fashioned wall sconces, though filled with modern lighting orbs, gave a sense of a medieval castle. The hallway opened into an enormous ballroom. Chandeliers with actual candles hung from the ceiling, a grand staircase led to the second floor at the back of the room and hundreds of people danced in the center or stood and sat along the sides.

  Corbin let out a whistle, which prompted a glare from Kimberly. "Wha'? Da drunk servant can't be in awe?"

  "You're supposed to be used to it," Kimberly whispered. "I'm rich, remember?" She had to admit she was impressed by the grandeur of the ballroom. Such old-style eloquence from an age long past was rare in the Federation, replaced by functional buildings designed more for space savings than for style.

  "An' oi'm drunk and can barely stand," he said, purposely stepping forward and staggering.

  Kimberly slapped him on the back of the head, partly to remain in character as a rich merchant dealing with a presumptuous servant who dared to walk ahead of her and partly because of genuine annoyance with him.

  I'm in, she said through her implant. How do I get to the server room here?

  I don't know, ma'am, Baillidh said. If he were communicating via voice she imagined he would sound remorseful.

  Then how the hell am I supposed to find out?

  Ye could ask someone, Corbin said.

  Yes but... she trailed off as her eyes focused on a man wearing a military dress uniform and surrounded by a gaggle of hangers-on. Facial recognition from her implant identified the man as Frederick Artois, a high-ranking family member and officer within House Artois. I think I found a way.

  She walked toward the man but she had no sooner made it halfway there than she heard a voice calling out to her from behind. "Miss Sommrich, is that you?"

  Kimberly turned, masking her annoyance. She knew that voice. "Ambassador Barrius, there you are." She offered a curtsy. "I apologize for not recognizing you sooner."

  The ambassador puffed up his chest. "Not to worry, my fair maiden." He extended a hand. "May I have this dance?" He did not look her in the eyes, instead preferring to stare at her bosom.

  Kimberly wanted to slap him or, better yet, shoot him, but she kept her composure and placed her hand in his. "It would be my pleasure." She gave Corbin a dirty look when she saw the huge grin on his face as she was led to the center of the dance floor. She didn't have time for distractions like this, but didn't have a choice.

  The ambassador led and she followed. He tried to twirl her but failed miserably as she spun and almost fell. When he leaned in for a kiss she turned her face away and pushed him back. "Now now, Ambassador. Let us not be so familiar," she said in her best haughty voice.

  The ambassador, rather than being offended by her rejection, smiled like a jackal eying some prey it was chasing. "Of course, m'lady." His eyes again strayed across her body starting at her toes and briefly meeting her eyes before again settling on her chest. He was a pig.

  Seeing an opportunity, Kimberly slapped him in the face. She raised her voice. "You do me a great disrespect, sir. I shall find another partner." She stormed off but made sure her path took her past Frederick Artois. She put her face in her hands as she passed and made sobbing noises. Out of the corner of her eye she caught him watching her. Please follow me, she thought. Princes, or rich merchant children who fancied themselves as royalty anyway, could not resist the pull of a damsel in distress and Frederick was no different. She sat down at a table and put her head in her hands. Stay where you are, Corbin, she said through the implant. I'm trying to lure Frederick in.

  It's workin' m'lady. E's headin' over.

  "Are you all right, m'lady?" a higher pitched male voice asked. "Did that man hurt you?" A chair scraped on the floor.

  She raised her head and it was indeed Frederick Artois sitting there watching her. She wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head, looking in the direction of the ambassador. "No, he's just a lecherous pig." She smiled at Frederick. "My name is Evonne. What is yours?"

  "Frederick," he said, sitting up a little straighter. "Would you like me to have him removed from the premises?"

  Kimberly shook her head. "No, no, let him be. He's an ambassador from Tar Ebon, you know."

  Frederick made a spitting motion. "Pfft, the Federation. Bunch of do-gooders who fancy themselves the police of the galaxy."

  She smiled. "I am from Tar Ebon."

  His face went slack. "Well, other than you, of course. You are radiant."

  Kimberly averted her eyes and pretended to bashful. "You're too kind."

  "Are you a politician?" he asked.

  She put a hand to her chest. "Heavens no! Could I afford this if I were a politician?" She put a hand on her necklace. "I am a merchant. Sommrich Industries."

  "Hmmm, never heard of it," he said, scratching his beard.

  She met his eyes, a plan to distract him from pondering the identity of her fake business forming in her mind. "Is there some place more...private we can go?" She raised her eyebrows to emphasize what she was suggesting they do in a private place.

  "Of...of course," he stammered, rising to his feet and offering a hand. "Right this way, m'lady. I know just the place."

  She took his hand and rose to her feet. Try to find a way out of the ballroom, Corbin, she ordered. I'm going to try to get what I can out of this guy.

  Jus' don't get too cozy wit' 'im, Corbin said.

  Oh shut up, she said and shut down the link.

  He led her up the grand staircase down a hallway deeper into the palace. "Do you like my home?" he asked as they walked.

  "It is very impressive," she said as they turned a corner. "Have you lived here all your life?"

  "Oh yes, I was born here," he said. "It's our ancestral home. I used to race down these halls with my sister." He led her around another corner.

  "Is your sister home?" she asked, trying to make small talk.

  "In a way. She came home but my father imprisoned her."

  "For what?"

  "Dishonoring the family, fighting for the Federation, that sort of thing."

  "She fought for the Federation?"

  "Yeah, she was a pilot."

  A Federation pilot, here? Imprisoned? "Oh." She decided to change the subject. "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "To my quarters," he said. A door stood at the end of the hallway, a pair of guards flanking it. They saluted as he passed and opened the door. He held it for her and she nodded her thanks and entered.

  High vaulted ceilings gave the room a cavernous feel. A massive four-poster bed was centered on the wall opposite the door. A wall of glass occupied the area to the right. She could not see what it overlooked.

  Frederick caught her eying the window and explained. "The palace was originally built overlooking a lake."

  Kimberly stepped up to the window and looked out. While she could see where a lake might have been, all she saw now was factories and warehouses. "Where did the lake go?"

  "It was emptied during development of the area." He locked the door to his room.

  "Oh, how sad," she said.

  He shrugged. "It was necessary. Besides, it allows me to survey my father's assets."

  "Of course. It's a beautiful view," she replied.

  "Now that we're somewhere private…" He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. "What did you want to do?"

  Wh
y does every man on this damn planet want to put their hands on me? She wondered. She grabbed his hands and jerked his arms up, then spun and kneed him in the groin. He grunted in shock and then groaned in pain. "What..." he began.

  She punched him in the face, then covered his mouth and pushed him onto the bed. She set her clutch on the nightstand, straddled him, and grabbed him in the groin and squeezed. "Now listen to me, you little creep. I need information and you're going to give it to me or you'll become a damn eunuch." She wasn't sure how she would accomplish that without a knife or blade but fortunately she didn't need to.

  His eyes went wide and he wheezed out a "Please...don't."

  "Then are you going to answer my questions?"

  He nodded vigorously.

  "Where are the servers in this place?"

  "The basement," he wheezed, which brought on a fit of coughing.

  "Is there a code required to access them?"

  "Five, nine, three, seven, one," he said.

  "Excellent, thank you. Have a nice nap." Before he could respond she took his head and slammed it against one of the posts until he was unconscious. She then ruffled her hair to make it look messy, kissed the sheets to smear her lipstick and pulled one part of her dress down so it was uneven with the other side. She grabbed her clutch and went to the door, unlocked it and stepped outside. "He's sleeping," she said, not looking at the guards.

  The guards said nothing in response to her statement and did not look in the room to verify. They must see this all the time, she thought as she walked down the hall. She resisted the urge to look back, as that could imply guilt. No, she had just been there for a good shag and now she was off.

  The server is in the basement, Baillidh, she said through her implant. Corbin, where are you?

  Oi'm hidin' in da supply closet.

  Another closet? Seriously?

  Aye.

  Why?

  Oi may have stolen a chicken from the kitchen. The chef chased me with a damn butcher knife. Twas the only place oi could hide.

  Well is it safe to come out now?