Her response time was slow. The pack thunked into her face.
Hauch picked it up for her.
“Thanks,” she said.
He responded with a grunt.
Moving toward a bench on the outside of the ring, she pressed the pack against her swollen cheekbone. The cold felt luxurious on her hot skin. She needed to immerse her entire body in a cryo-bath.
“We’re stopping at Javery?” Mandell looked up from his comm-cuff.
Ash retrieved her own cuff, a K8-tactical knife, and a few other items from the bench and returned them to the pockets of her black dress-downs.
“Didn’t you guys know?” She fastened her cuff around her left wrist. “‘Rest in Peace’ Rykus is finally getting a homecoming.” And without a doubt, there would be fireworks.
“Do we get to go dirtside?” a spacer asked.
Ash’s cuff vibrated. She looked down at its screen. The Kaelais had a message for her. It had just changed her status to “unfit for duty” and gave her a directive to go to med-bay. And beneath the directive was a subtext that said “all shore leave denied.”
She was really starting to dislike this ship.
9
Rykus finished fastening the last button on his dress uniform—a uniform he hadn’t worn since Ash’s graduation—when the second alarm rang, signaling the exit from the time-bend. He stared at his freshly shaven face and braced himself for the hit of nausea.
The Kaelais reverted to real time, and Rykus’s image contorted and fractured. His jaw widened, his brown eyes stretched, and his shoulders appeared crooked, like he was looking into a shattered mirror, not a live camera feed of himself.
His stomach churned. The nausea wasn’t entirely due to the distortion of tachyon travel. For the first time in more than five years, he was home.
He tugged at his cuffs and smoothed his uniform. A month ago, he’d given his father his word he’d visit in exchange for a favor. General Rykus had a hell of a lot of influence in Javerian politics. All he had to do was place a call to one of the Coalition authorities who, like Tersa, would do almost anything to please the Javerian triumvirate in order to get the planet to join the intergalactic government. Rykus had his transfer authorized within hours of contacting his father, and thanks to that favor, he’d made it to the sedated Ash before Stratham, a telepath, could kill her.
He owed his father, but he hadn’t planned to come here now and certainly not like this.
As soon as Ash told him about their itinerary, he’d confronted Tersa. And the prime had coolly asked about Ash’s finances and the two men who had attempted to kill her.
He’d pulled up abruptly and stood stiffly before her. Voice and visuals weren’t recorded inside officer lounges, but somehow Tersa knew he’d learned the answer to both those questions. Perhaps she was just guessing or his body language gave it away. Whatever it was, he didn’t deny it. He met her gaze and told her to unlock Ash’s accounts and forget about the would-be assassins.
She’d agreed with a single, silent nod.
She was maneuvering him. He’d almost told her to find herself another officer to lead the Kaelais’s troops, but he’d managed to choke down his temper. They were going to Javery. He was just along for the ride. He didn’t have to put one boot dirtside on his home world.
He shut off the video feed, then turned to his door. He wasn’t in a hurry to reach the bridge. His father would take his time answering a call from an unexpected Coalition ship. Once they confirmed their visitors posed no threat, Javery would route the request through person after person until—
A new alarm blasted through the air, a louder, more urgent wail. Rykus’s comm-cuff vibrated, then the voice-link hooked over his ear clicked on.
“All hands. All hands. To your reporting stations.”
What the hell?
He was out the door and running before the Kaelais’s electronic voice could repeat her message a second time. Shift change wasn’t for another hour. Rykus flew past officers half-dressed and scrambling from their holes. He bypassed the lift, then took the stairs to the command deck two at a time. Despite the late hour, Prime Tersa was already there, as was Captain Furyk and the night crew.
Reversion to real-space in Javery’s Tachyon Arrival Zone should have been a simple, routine procedure, not a cause for an alarm. Rykus had hoped this might be yet another one of the Kaelais’s inconvenient malfunctions, but then he saw the reason for the urgency.
A view of Javerian space stretched from one end of the bridge’s curved front wall to the other. Smaller views from different angles around the Kaelais lined the top of the screen while status updates scrolled across the bottom. Rykus ignored all the little distractions, his gaze riveted not on his home world but on the Saricean warships that orbited it.
A chill settled in his gut. The last time the Sariceans had invaded a star system, they’d decimated half a planet. No obvious fires burned on Javery, but that didn’t mean damage hadn’t been done. It didn’t mean that damage wouldn’t be done.
“This is not an invasion force,” Prime Tersa said to Furyk, who stood beside the command dais. “We will not engage.”
“We are at war with the Sariceans.” Furyk spoke with a calm, solid authority. “Our standing orders are to search out, capture, or destroy the prototype. If it is here—”
“It’s not here, Captain. Their capsule is right there on the edge of the Tachyon Arrival Zone.” She pointed to an image on the upper bar of the screen that was outside a line indicating the boundary of the TAZ. “A ship equipped with a tachyon drive doesn’t need a capsule to enter a time-bend. We will not exit our capsule until we have permission from Javery.”
“The Sariceans had capsules at Ephron. That doesn’t ensure the prototype is not here.” Furyk’s voice took on a sharper edge. “And if you interrupt me on my bridge again, Minister Prime, I’ll have you escorted to the brig.”
Tersa’s nostrils flared. Her jaw clenched. Rykus recognized the set of her shoulders and half hoped she’d push Furyk a step further, but Tersa must have sensed that Furyk’s threat wasn’t an empty one. She exhaled, and her stiff posture became a touch more respectful.
“My apologies,” she said. “But we will wait for a response from Javery. The meeting at Ysbar Station still stands, and it’s of utmost importance.”
“Captain. Prime.” Rykus inserted himself into the conversation. “Has the Air Guard responded?”
“No.” Furyk’s single word reverberated off the walls of the ship.
“Is there any reason for them to take this long?” Tersa asked.
Rykus looked at his home world. “You’re contacting them on a military frequency. They’re scrambling to soothe the Sariceans’ concerns.”
“Perhaps they’ve agreed to an alliance with the Sariceans.”
“They haven’t.” Not with his father part of Javery’s triumvirate. “Captain, if you will, contact General Rykus on native frequency 6116H8.”
“That will make a difference?” Furyk asked.
“It’s appearances,” Rykus said. “Javery has sworn to remain neutral in all intergalactic conflicts. Responding on a military channel could be interpreted as cooperation, but no one will object to personal calls home.”
Furyk nodded to his man at the comm station.
“Comm has been accepted,” the officer said immediately.
Furyk faced the front of the command deck. “On screen.”
Grand General Markin Rykus appeared at the front center of the bridge, pushing the image of the Sariceans’ ships to a smaller section of the wall. As usual, he was in his full formal uniform. New embellishments adorned the high collar, and the five triangular medals on his shoulders shone an iridescent black, signaling that his standing as Javery’s top military officer was uncontested. The last time Rykus had seen him in person, his father had just achieved his position and the medals had been slate gray. The people of Javery didn’t like change.
“General Rykus,” Fury
k said from the center of the command dais. “Minister Prime Tersa of the Coalition of Sovereign Systems would like a word with you.”
Furyk relinquished his position, stepping off the dais as if the brief introduction had been an inconvenience. It undoubtedly was. The captain strode directly to the tactical console and watched the Sariceans’ warships.
“General Rykus,” Tersa said. “Thank you for taking my call. I—”
“I accepted a call from my son.”
If the general had been on board the Kaelais instead of several light seconds away, his tone would have made ice form on the walls of the bridge.
“You have Saricean warships in your orbit,” Tersa said. “Do you require assistance?”
“No.”
“The Sariceans have a history of unprovoked aggression.”
“The same could be said of the Coalition. Javery is a neutral planet. If you would like to negotiate a trade deal, you may contact the First Citizen, or you may leave my star system. Put my son on.”
“I understand your concern—”
The screen went black. Tersa’s mouth snapped shut. Wide-eyed, she looked in Rykus’s direction.
He shrugged. He’d warned her his father didn’t negotiate.
“Call him back,” Tersa said to the officer at the comm station. “Commander Rykus. You talk to him. I want a meeting with the full triumvirate. Arrange it.”
He’d told her that wouldn’t happen either, but he stepped onto the dais. He’d go through the motions and prove his point. When his father’s image returned to the main screen, he said, “Sir.”
“Rhys.” Neither his tone nor his expression softened. “It’s good to have you in system.”
The silence that followed the words invited Rykus to say that it was good to be back. Instead, he kept his voice neutral. “The Minister Prime requests a meeting with the triumvirate.”
Out of view of the camera, Tersa sighed.
“Denied,” General Rykus said. “Your sister is here. Your mother will be happy to have all her family home.”
Taya was there? She visited Javery almost as infrequently as he did.
Rykus’s gaze went to the green and violet planet in the upper left corner of the screen. Two huge, swirling storms crossed Javery’s biggest continent. The larger of the two was the Kampechu Torrent, a never-ending but weak-winded typhoon. The volatile weather used to cause deaths and wreak havoc on the environment, but Javerians had learned to thrive in the extremes. The downpours were collected and stored for the planet’s frequent dry spells. It looked like the Kampechu Torrent had passed over the capital within the past few days. Rykus had just missed it.
An unexpected pang settled in his chest. It wasn’t that he missed the torrent. He missed his home world.
It would be good to see Taya and his mother again. He might even be able to tolerate his brother. Tersa had ambushed him with this unscheduled stop, but this might work out for the best. He had an excuse to make the visit short if his father pissed him off.
But there was no need to show his hand to the general just yet. “I’m sorry I’ll miss Taya, but I’m here as part of my duty to the Coalition. I’ll return as promised when I’m granted a leave of absence.”
“You said you’d visit as soon as possible,” the general said. “I expect you at Cordell Spaceport in an hour.”
“No, sir.” He held his father’s gaze. How badly did he want his son there? Or, more precisely, how much was Mom bothering him about the visit?
Tersa stepped back into the camera view. “General, if I may—”
“You may not,” he said.
“Sir, my allegiance is to the Coalition and the citizens it protects.” Rykus chose the words deliberately, and his father’s eyes narrowed. “It would be reckless to leave this ship when I’m responsible for its soldiers and there are enemy warships sharing space with us. The minister prime wants a meeting. If that request was granted, I’d be obligated to provide a security detail for her. Given my familiarity with Javery, it’s possible I might be the best choice to lead that team. But without a meeting, there’s no cause for me to go dirtside.”
“Then go,” his father snarled.
Tersa stepped forward and tapped the privacy icon on the dais’s console. A hum came from the ceiling. Those outside the circular dais wouldn’t hear their conversation. “The Sariceans are here to negotiate a trade deal. We have sensitive and critical information the triumvirate needs to hear.”
The general’s hand moved, undoubtedly reaching for the button that would kill their connection.
“We also have on board the woman Commander Rykus broke procedure to save.” Tersa spit out the words so quickly Rykus almost didn’t follow them. But then his father froze, and he realized too late what the prime was about to do.
“I’m sure your family would love to meet her,” she said when it was obvious she’d hooked the general’s curiosity.
Seeker’s Hell. After all her warnings not to be involved…
The general’s gaze shifted back to him. “A woman?”
Rykus would not take Ash to Javery. It would be a disaster. “She’s an anomaly.”
“She’s his anomaly,” Tersa said.
A muscle in his father’s cheek twitched. “There are no Caruth-trained women.”
“There’s one,” Tersa said. “And she would love to meet your family, but she isn’t Javerian and won’t be allowed off ship without me.”
Rykus stared at his father. If he looked away, if he so much as glanced Tersa’s direction, he would unleash a wave of fury that would make his eruption during the anomaly hearings look tame. So he stood there rigid straight. His father wouldn’t agree to this anyway. Javery didn’t allow anomalies within its atmosphere. It even expelled its own citizens if their blood work came back with the genetic abnormality.
“Very well,” his father said.
“What?” He choked on the word.
“I will issue a temporary visa for Prime Tersa and the woman,” the general said. “You will be surrounded by my security forces at all times. You will follow Javerian laws and customs and will arrive unarmed.”
“No, sir,” he said, falling back on his military training to cover the stutter in his composure. Why the hell was his father agreeing to this? “Saricean warships are in system. We come armed or not at all.”
“The Sariceans are leaving.”
Rykus glanced at the enemy ships. They did appear to be drifting toward their capsule.
“I will see you in one hour at the spaceport.” His father killed the comm.
Tersa exhaled. “Thank you for your assistance, Commander.”
She reached for the icon to turn off the privacy shield, but Rykus covered the screen before she could tap it. “This is a mistake.”
“Allowing Ash to come with us? Probably, but you are to keep her quiet and polite.”
“You’ve met Ash. You tell me how well that’s going to work.”
“If you have to command her, you will.”
She’s an elected official. You’re a soldier. Killing her would be frowned upon. Probably.
“Why?” he demanded.
“What?”
“Why the hell is it so important to meet with the triumvirate?”
She let her hand fall away from the command screen. Her blue eyes took him in—his expression, his posture. She must have seen that he wasn’t going to be appeased without the truth. She lifted her chin. “Two reasons, Commander. The first I alluded to with your father. It’s the reason why the Sariceans are here: they need your thrysite.”
Thrysite?
Javery had deep, abundant thrysite mines. His family owned several. The mineral was used for building materials, industrial machinery, spaceship parts, and hundreds of other minor uses. But most of those uses could be replaced by alternative resources. The Sariceans shouldn’t suddenly be interested in obtaining more of the mineral.
Unless something about the thrysite made it ideal for cr
eating their precious new tachyon-driven ships.
“How do you know they need it?” he asked.
“Analysis of the prototype at the Battle of Ephron as well as multiple references to it in the data Ash’s team stole from Chalos II.”
“You should have told me.”
“Before we left Meryk?” Tersa’s eyebrows rose. “You would have refused to come.”
She was right about that. “What’s the second reason?”
“That one’s a little more elusive.” Tersa scanned the bridge. Her gaze lingered on the individuals before she met Rykus’s eyes again. “The Coalition needs a win. Lieutenant Ashdyn is right. The Coalition is fracturing. There’s dissent and suspicion and threats being exchanged in the capitol’s corridors. It hasn’t become public yet, but we need to appear strong. A new system hasn’t joined us in almost a decade. Our time of expansion appears to be at an end, and senators are whispering about withdrawing. They hold Javery as an example of a neutral system that’s doing very well without our protection. Its economy grows without our help, and it has no current enemies. If we can bring Javery into the Coalition, we can hold it together for a few more years. It will give me time to strengthen it.”
“The Coalition has been around for centuries.”
“Interplanetary governments rise and fall. In all the KU’s history, none have lasted to the millennium mark. The Coalition is young. It’s fragile.”
Ash had called it fragile too. When she’d believed that the files her old team had stolen from Chalos II contained evidence of telepathy, she’d put her reputation, her freedom, her life on the line to keep the information secret. Rykus hadn’t understood that decision. He still didn’t.
“This is not the time or place for this conversation, Commander, and we have little time to prep for departure.”
“You told me to keep my distance from Ash.” The muscles in his shoulders were taut. Rykus had made sure he and Ash stayed on opposite sides of the ship, but it hadn’t been easy. He wanted excuses to cross paths, but he didn’t want this excuse.
“What I said still applies,” Tersa said. “You’ll make it clear that your father’s suspicions are incorrect.”
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