“You raised his suspicions.”
“To achieve a goal, Commander. And I would do it again.”
“You won’t.” He dropped his voice and stepped close, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
He didn’t have to voice a specific threat. Tersa’s almost imperceptible nod indicated she knew she’d overstepped.
When she lowered her gaze, he moved, allowing her to press the icon to drop the privacy shield. She stepped off the dais, then tapped the voice-link hooked over her ear. “Kaelais: send for Lieutenant Ashdyn.” She dropped her hand, then turned toward Captain Furyk, who stood behind a man seated at the cryptological console. “The Saricean ships. Are they a threat?”
“They’re returning to their capsule.” He kept his gaze on the data scrolling down the screen.
“Good,” Tersa said. “Ready a shuttle to transport three individuals to Cordell Spaceport.”
Furyk spared her a brief, dismissive glance. “Not while the enemy is in system.”
“Our meeting at Ysbar Station doesn’t allow us time to wait.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Captain…” She faded off when he straightened and faced her directly. She suddenly seemed shorter than she had seconds earlier. “Fine. But I want the transport readied. It will leave for the surface the second the Sariceans capsule out.”
“Sub Bay 3. Four predators will escort you to the outer atmo.” He turned back to the crypt console.
When annoyance flashed in Tersa’s eyes, Rykus suppressed a smile. He approved of Furyk’s no-nonsense attitude. Tersa might be the leader of the Coalition, but aboard a warship, the captain was king.
“The prototype isn’t here, is it?” she said to Furyk’s back. When he didn’t respond, she walked to his other side to peer over the crypty’s shoulder. “Were you able to intercept communications?”
“No, ma’am,” the crypty responded. “The Sariceans shut down their data transfers when we appeared.”
“Their ships are half a galactic unit away,” Furyk said. “With the time delay, there should be at least twenty seconds of data collected.”
“Yes, sir. But it’s old data and impenetrable.”
“There is no impenetrable data,” Furyk said. “You should be able to get something out of it: the number of ships inside their capsule, their time in system, the names of their commanders.”
“I have the data, but without shuffling it through our systems in real time, I can’t see its responses. I don’t want to risk letting it out of containment.”
Furyk looked at the man. “Do I need to replace you with someone more capable?”
The crypty’s face flushed red. “Not even Teal could pry data out of—” He snapped his mouth shut. “No, sir. I’ll get in.”
Rykus ignored the cryptological talk. He knew basic hack-sig, and if security was more than he could handle on an op, he could blow his way into where he needed to be.
“Commander.” Tersa turned away from the crypt console. “Meet me in…”
She focused behind him. Her eyes widened. Her mouth worked, attempting to form words.
Rykus took a slow step back and followed her line of sight.
Ash strode across the bridge, bruised, bloodied, and disheveled.
She stopped a few paces in front of the prime. “You summoned, ma’am?”
10
Ash held a cryo-pack to her left cheek. A cut sliced across her right brow. Her bottom lip was bleeding, and fresh bruises decorated her arms, the side of her neck, and likely other places beneath her black uniform.
Rykus’s first thought was that she’d finally run into Brookins. But, no, she was still standing, and Rykus had deliberately kept the two anomalies apart. They had different sleep cycles and no reason to cross paths.
“Seeker’s God, Ashdyn,” Tersa said, finally able to form words. “Do you instigate violence everywhere you go?”
“Not usually,” Ash replied. “Just lucky lately.”
“You look unkempt. You can’t look unkempt.”
Ash moved the cryo-pack from her cheek to her cut brow. “It’s a few bumps and bruises. I think I’ll survive.”
Tersa took an aggressive step forward. “Exactly what were you doing, Lieutenant?”
“I was, uh”—she glanced at Rykus, grinned—“integrating with my team.”
Hauch. The two had finally had it out. Perhaps that’s what Ash needed to let herself become part of the team. It was illogical, but so was his anomaly.
“You’re coming to Javery with us,” Tersa said. “Change into your dress uniform. Comb your hair and do something about your face.”
“Javery?” Ash looked at him again. “I get to go dirtside and meet the parents? Nice.”
The mischievous spark in her eyes assured him she was, indeed, okay, but it also sent a warning straight to his gut.
“It’s an official meeting,” he said. “General Rykus has questions.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Do I need to prepare for personal questions?”
“No,” he and Tersa said in unison. He held back a wince. He didn’t like being on the same wavelength with the minister prime. He didn’t like being maneuvered into bringing Ash down to his home world. And as much as he would like to see most of his family, he didn’t like the instant interest his father had shown when Tersa mentioned Ash.
“Go,” the prime ordered. “Make yourself presentable.”
“The way I look matters?”
“Image,” Tersa snapped. “We can’t have the Javerians believing we abuse our people.”
“I’m sure no Javerian soldier has ever gotten into a fight before.”
“Ice it. Put some cosmetics on it.” Tersa strode toward the bridge’s exit. “And don’t be late.”
Ash watched her go, then shifted her green eyes to him. “She’s really pissed.”
Aware of Furyk’s steady, almost accusing gaze and the glances from the rest of the bridge crew, Rykus motioned Ash toward the exit.
They walked in silence down the corridor. He should say something, prepare her for Javery and his father, then head to his hole to grab a few last-minute items, but he remained beside her.
“I won,” she said when they stepped onto a lift. “Technically.”
She punched the icon to go down a level to the soldier barracks. He eyed the icon to go up but didn’t touch it.
“Against Hauch?” he asked.
“Yes.” She kept her gaze ahead and smiled. “At the very least, I didn’t lose. The man’s made of bruidium.”
“In other words, he had you down and you refused to tap out.”
The smile turned into a full grin when she looked at him. Seeker’s God, even hurt and disheveled, she was beautiful. He was right to stay away from her. Every second with her weakened his resolve. She wanted him. He wanted her. He could say to hell with propriety, to hell with the scandal their relationship would cause, and be with her. Tersa had all but approved it for political expediency when she’d dangled her name in front of his father.
But what if Tersa followed through on her threat to imprison one or both of them? Could Ash handle it? Last month, Rykus had met briefly with his former colleagues before he and Ash had left Caruth. Javko had said the new instructor—the man who had replaced Rykus—had gotten into an altercation shortly after his cadets had been loyalty trained. One of his anomalies happened to walk by. He’d seen his fail-safe in a fight with three men and, according to Javko, the anomaly had gone mad. He hadn’t snapped, but he’d methodically beaten the hell out of all three men. Two died. One could barely remember his own name.
That could have been an isolated event. Rykus didn’t know, but even if Ash didn’t overreact, he was still her commanding officer. He had to keep things platonic while they worked together.
He looked at Ash’s bruised face. The ice was helping, but it wouldn’t be enough.
“When was your last booster?” he asked.
�
�I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine,” he said. “I want to know if it’s too soon to inject another. How long has it been?”
“Not that long.” She turned away. That coupled with her succinct responses told him something was wrong.
“Ash.” He grabbed her arm and made her face him. “Answer me.”
His words weren’t spoken in a way to trigger the compulsion, but the loyalty training was always there, always pressuring her to do what he wanted. The desire to please lit her eyes briefly before her typical stubbornness set in.
“It shouldn’t be a hard question,” he said.
“It’s not.” When he scowled, she pulled her arm free. “I’m only a few days late.”
She shouldn’t be any days late. Anomalies injected the boosters every other week. That’s how the drugs were prescribed.
“How many?” he demanded.
“A few.”
“A few is three or more.”
“I know.” When he continued to stare, she sighed. “It’s been almost three weeks, Rip. It’s not a problem.”
Damn it, he knew what she was doing. And he knew why.
“You’re weaning yourself off the boosters.”
Ash shifted the cryo-pack to her left shoulder. “No. I’m just spacing out my fix a little.”
“I won’t let the Coalition withhold them again.”
He realized he shouldn’t have said the words right after they left his mouth. Ash’s eyes softened, and he was hit with the memory of the way she had looked on the Fortune’s Citadel: real and alive and unhindered.
Jaw clenched, he focused on the empty coffee nook behind her.
The cryo-pack on Ash’s shoulder went back to her face. “I could be imprisoned by the enemy. It’s in my interest to reduce my dependency.”
“The withdrawal almost killed you before.” He made his voice hard.
“I was hurt and had other issues.” Her tone matched his. No softness. No vulnerability. They were both protecting themselves.
“Inject the booster.”
She lowered the cryo-pack. “Is that an order?”
Seeker’s God. She had to make everything a challenge.
“Don’t make me make it one,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “I’m just another member of the Fighting Corps, Rip. You’re in command of every soldier on this ship. Giving me orders is your job.”
Her words, her tone, even the way she stood made fire slip beneath his skin. The heat in his chest exploded into full-throttled fury, and he swung her inside the coffee nook. His hand went to her right outer thigh where she kept the syringes in a small black case. He slipped it free and shoved it against her chest.
The momentum of the shove carried her backward into the counter. Leaning against it, she tilted her chin up and somehow made it seem like it had been her choice to end up there.
Despite a warning whispering from a corner of his mind, he advanced. On Caruth, one look from him was enough to send most anomalies scrambling, but not Ash. Never Ash. If she reacted the way the others did, if she didn’t fight him so hard, they wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be standing in a coffee nook wanting to shake her, and she wouldn’t be leaning against a counter, daring him to command her.
Daring him to kiss her.
“Medical care.” He stepped away suddenly, tried to re-center his thoughts. “You won’t survive without access to medical care, and you can’t guarantee you’ll have it when you’re on a mission.”
She stared at him. Several long seconds passed before she said, “If I’m on a mission, I’ll inject the boosters.”
His heart pounded. His muscles were tight. He needed to focus on something—anything—except what he wanted to do on the counter behind her.
“You don’t need to wean yourself.” Anomalies could break the addiction, but it was dangerous and, more than half the time, fatal.
“Thank you for your concern,” she said, her voice cold. “Is there anything else you would like to say?”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t touch her. “Just inject it. It will help with the recovery.”
“So I can be pretty for your family?”
His family. Shit. He wanted to keep her away from his father, who wouldn’t hold back his disapproval. Not that Rykus thought Ash would crumble before the general’s scowls and insults—she sure as hell hadn’t crumbled on Caruth—but Rykus might break. He might not be able to stay calm and professional and…
He clenched his teeth together. “Just do it.”
“And, what do you want me to do with the excess energy?”
He stiffened at the words. The injections were like a hit of adrenaline without the sudden exhaustion that affected normal people afterward. The anomalies needed to funnel the energy somewhere. A good long run or a heavy weight lifting session could ease the intensity of the high, but Ash had injected a booster on the Fortune’s Citadel. Together, they’d found another way to take the edge off.
He ran a hand over his hair. Seeker’s God, she was killing him.
“Do what you have to, Ash.” He escaped before he gave her exactly what she wanted.
11
Javery, Rykus’s home world, filled the viewscreen, its purple tinted oceans bright and glittering from the light of its sun. Only wisps of clouds covered the south central portion of the continent they headed toward, but a dark, swirling storm intermittently lit with lightning moved to the east: the infamous Kampechu Torrent.
Ash seethed with the same intensity as the storm. Rykus sat on the opposite side of Tersa, pretty much as far away as he could get in the small shuttle. He hadn’t said a word when they met in the docking bay. Neither had she because she was pissed. She’d injected the damn booster and regretted it immediately. Not just because her leg was jumping with unspent energy, but because she’d realized she’d only taken the shot of chems because her fail-safe had urged it. She’d caved to the loyalty training, and now she had to sit—sit!—and wait for a meeting with the leaders of a planet that had nothing to do with the telepathic threat to the Coalition.
She leaned against an armrest and tapped her fingers on the metal.
“Lieutenant.” Tersa dropped the flattened comm-cuff she’d been studying into her lap. “Can you be still please?”
“No.”
“No?” Her eyebrows went up. “You’re not on a mission in the mines of Kelin. You’re visiting Javery. You might as well be on vacation.”
“No,” she said again. “You can blame Rykus.”
Tersa looked the other direction.
“She injected a booster,” Rykus said.
“And that means she acts like a bot malfunctioning after a power surge?”
“It will wear off,” he said.
Ash let out a hard exhale. Then she leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees, and rubbed at her face. She didn’t know what she was doing there. This detour hadn’t seemed like this big a waste of time three days ago. It had been a chance for her to do more data gathering, to pry into Trevast’s files, poke into Tersa’s background, and eventually find out if the eminences were being screwed with just like Ash and Hagan had been. It had also helped that it was highly likely the meeting would turn into an ambush. Like every other Coalition soldier, Ash wanted revenge for the attack on Ephron. She wanted to fight.
She wanted to fight right now.
She leaned back in her seat, and her leg started jumping again.
“This happens every time?” Tersa asked.
“Usually I have other outlets for my energy. And usually I’m not asked to sit and be civil. How much longer until we land?” She raised her voice to direct the question at the pilot.
“Ten minutes,” he called back.
“Is that enough time to be normal?”
“Depends on what your definition of normal is,” Ash said. She was almost certain she heard Rykus snort.
A touch of worry lit Tersa’s eyes. “You understand I ha
d to get special permission to allow an anomaly to touch Javery’s soil.”
“You ordered me to come with you.”
“Because I had to. That’s what it took to get General Rykus to agree to a meeting. Ashdyn, this visit is that important. I wouldn’t have come here otherwise. And now that we know the Sariceans were here, it’s even more imperative to speak to the triumvirate. You realize that, don’t you? You realize that, if I can convince Javery to join us, it will strengthen the Coalition?”
There was a rawness in her words, a plea for understanding. That affected Ash more than any order or threat would have. When she’d first met Tersa, she’d made the prime promise secrecy before she detailed the events of Chalos II and everything that came afterward. Tersa had agreed. Ash had thought that was because she was like most politicians—addicted to secrets and scandals—but looking at her now, she knew that wasn’t the complete truth. Tersa saw what Ash did. She saw the vulnerability of the Coalition.
Ash’s gaze went to Rykus, whom she could see now that Tersa had turned in her seat. He was looking at her, listening with a carefully blank expression. He’d never understood why Ash hadn’t given him the cipher on the Obsidian. He didn’t think keeping the existence of telepathy secret was important. He didn’t worry about the revelation weakening the Coalition. He thought the government was strong and could weather the ripples of fear and suspicion the discovery would send through the Known Universe.
“I understand,” she said, maintaining eye contact with her fail-safe. He thought the loyalty training caused her to overreact to the slightest threat to the Coalition. He was wrong.
The transport shook as they hit Javery’s outer atmosphere. She tightened her restraints, then waited out the last few minutes of the journey.
The pilot made sure touchdown at the spaceport was as gentle as a nudge from a Merykian squirrel. That was either due to the presence of the minister prime or the Javerian delegation that waited on the landing platform. There were seven of the latter. All but the Javerian officer in the front center had rifles held at the ready.
Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2) Page 11
