“Jayleia Durante, cargo.”
Ari resisted the urge to glance at the men behind her and said, “Captain Ari Idylle, Captain Cullin Seaghdh, Kirthin Turrel, V’kyrri. External. Kebgra. You’re next, Sindrivik.”
“L—Damen Sindrivik, piloting,” Sindrivik said, tripping over trying not to say his rank.
“Ari?” Raj commanded. “Report.”
“We’ve put down on Kebgra,” she replied. “No response to hails. Bioscans . . .”
“I see them,” her father interjected. He swore. “No biosigns?”
“No, sir,” Sindrivik replied on the open channel. “Scans are limited by the curvature of the planet.”
“Not a single survivor,” Dad mused.
“Not the hallmark of a plague, Ari,” Raj said.
Her chest tightened. What was worse? Hoping the people of Kebgra had been attacked and killed? Or sickened and killed?
“We won’t know until we finish recon,” Ari answered. “I’ll bring back samples if I can, but I want containment for them and for us until we’re certain.”
“Agreed,” her father said.
“Very well.” She sighed and rubbed a hand across her forehead. She felt Seaghdh’s gaze and glanced at him.
He lifted an eyebrow.
Longing raked her insides to bloody ribbons. In a different place, in a different time, she would have enjoyed succumbing to the teasing duels they’d been fighting since stepping off the blade grid. Enough.
Tapping into a sterile, dead part of her psyche, Ari slammed the door on feeling and forced herself to turn back to the com. “Sen Ekir, Captain Alexandria Idylle. Activation code 004-AA679-Idylle-Prime.”
“What the hell . . .” her father grated.
“Sen Ekir,” an unfamiliar computerized voice droned. “Authorization, Captain Alexandria Idylle. 004-AA679-Iydlle-Prime, acknowledged. Course laid. Lockdown complete.”
“Oh, my Gods, 004,” Raj groaned. “That’s—Ari, you’re IntCom.”
She dropped her chin to her chest. This was not a conversation she wanted to have under these circumstances. She’d hoped to never have it, even though she’d wondered why it had taken a bunch of brilliant scientists so long to figure out why a career Prowler captain went on every single one of their missions.
“What have you done?” her father demanded. “We disabled all of IntCom’s . . .”
“No,” she said. “You disabled the packages IntCom left for you to find. What they did not want you to find, you didn’t.”
“The Sen Ekir is locked to a command set preprogrammed by IntCom,” she told her father. “If worse comes to worst and you are forced to lift without us, the ship will take you directly to Tagreth. You will go in broadcasting on all IntCom channels. If that happens, Dad, I ask that you see Sindrivik returned to his people as soon as possible.”
“Alexandria,” he growled, “damn it. Your duty . . .”
“The irony of being captured by the Chekydran and accused of spying,” she said, her voice sounding curiously dead to her, “is that it was true. My duty is to IntCom.”
“You’re a captain of the Armada!”
“I was. You’ll notice I’ve been relieved of that command. IntCom did not relieve me.”
“You know that was an oversight, you psychopathic bitch!” Pietre interjected.
“Was it?” she asked.
“IntCom doesn’t forget, Pietre,” Jayleia snapped, her tone sharp. She would know. Her father held an IntCom post of some kind. According to her, not even she knew what he did.
“Mr. Sindrivik,” Ari said. “If we encounter trouble of any sort, under no circumstances are you or the scientists to leave this ship.”
“Further,” Seaghdh said, pushing his way in beside her, his shoulder touching hers when the space in the air lock didn’t strictly require it. “We miss two check-ins, you lift. Do not attempt to aid or assist in any way.”
“Aye, Captains.”
Captains. Coming from one of his men. She liked the sound of it. Loneliness melted away and the lid she’d closed on her emotions edged open. A tiny sliver of hope lodged in her heart. Seaghdh had chosen to stand shoulder to shoulder with her rather than fire a laser bolt into her back.
“Alex.”
Ari paused in turning away from the com as Seaghdh started down the ramp. “Yes, Dad.”
“What is your assignment?”
With a grim smile, she said, “You.”
Her dad swore.
She turned back to find Seaghdh blocking her path.
He studied her, his eyes bright, and his head cocked to one side and stunned her by offering his Autolyte. “You’ll want a weapon.”
She closed a hand around the stock, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. He didn’t release it. Meeting his eye, she waited. She couldn’t tell him she wouldn’t turn on him. Once she knew what was happening, she might. Duty required it. What she wanted had no bearing on the situation. Problem was, Seaghdh knew it. All of it. But she was a warrior, trained in combat, tactics, and recon. Only he could decide how far he was willing to trust her. And for how long.
To her surprise, he grinned when she met his gaze. “Ari, you’re a spy!”
“Something that should stand me in great stead on your side of the zone,” she noted. “I’m not. Not really. They wanted someone watching out for Dad.”
“He didn’t know.”
“No,” she said.
“Do the Chekydran know?” he asked.
She blinked. She couldn’t see why it mattered. “About my babysitting job? I neglected to mention it.”
A slow, contagious smile spread on his face, but the pride burning in him warmed her. Scorched her.
“I’ve been looking for a way to recruit you, Captain. You just handed me the justification. You’re with me,” he finally said, letting go of the gun. “What’s out there?”
“Two settlements,” Ari replied, ignoring the flutter of her heart at the mention of being recruited. “Farms and cropland in between. Limited cover once we leave this tree line. From here, S-One is south by southeast, a click or so away. S-Two is due east, maybe a click and a half. Major temple site and provincial capital.”
“Roads? Trails?”
“No,” she said. “They weren’t fundamentalists. Hover and flight technology was acceptable to them.” It hurt her to speak in past tense of the cheerful, happy-go-lucky people who had always waved them into town as if they were long-lost relations come to dinner. She had to clear her throat.
“We might find a hauler behind the depot,” she said.
Seaghdh nodded, indicating that she should proceed down the ramp. Ari eased the safety off the rifle, scanned the trees, and jogged across the open space to the building. When she glanced back from beside the shack, she saw Seaghdh, Turrel, and V’kyrri covering her from the ship. Proper application of a gun in her back. Good. They’d trust her with the Autolyte, and she’d trust them with weapons at her back. It had occurred to her that this mystery would make a very convenient accident. Take the Armada officer out into an unknown situation, even arm her and then shoot her while everyone else is occupied.
Seaghdh raced across the barren landing pad while she scanned the tree line. Turrel and V’kyrri followed. She rounded the building and swore.
“Nothing?” Seaghdh surmised.
Ari shook her head and kicked open the door of the depot.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“We do still need a part for the starboard engine,” she said, scanning the orderly interior. Nothing out of place, no bodies, no sign of what might have happened.
V’kyrri crowded past her and sorted hurriedly through a box of fuel-feed couplers.
“They’re dead, V’k,” she said. “Take the box.”
“You don’t know that,” he countered. “They could be in hiding, underground, out of reach of sensors.”
She sucked in a breath. Why the hell hadn’t she thought of that? “I hope you’r
e right.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Seaghdh said, as V’k looked for a match.
V’kyrri straightened. “Got it.”
“I’ll take it,” she said.
The men stared at her.
“No one’s shot at us so far,” she said, “but if we have to risk someone crossing the open landing pad again, you can most afford to risk me.”
“Maybe those bugs did get to your brain, Captain,” Turrel said, taking the part from V’kyrri’s hands. “ ’ Cause that is one piss-poor assessment. V’k works on the ship. You got something in your head our employers want and the captain is the brains of the operation. I’m the expendable one here and you know it. That’s the problem with you Armada officers. You aren’t willing to order someone to do something you wouldn’t do yourselves. Cover me and try not to shoot me in the back.”
“You don’t trust me not to hijack my own ship out from under you,” she said, bracing her shoulder against the building and bringing the rifle to bear on the silent landing pad.
“Looks to me like you already have,” he said before sprinting across the field. He secured the part in the air lock and spent a moment syncing a handheld with shipboard computers, something she should have done.
Seaghdh nodded and took her place when she glanced at him. She flipped open her pad and linked up. For Seaghdh’s benefit, she brought over all the data for Kebgra, topography, settlement layout, arcane bits of local chemistry, even notes about the poisonous plants in the region. She gave it to V’kyrri, took his handheld, and did the same thing while Turrel crossed back to their location.
“No life signs, no ships,” he said.
She finished the link on the last pad and put it back on her belt. “From the smell, I’m guessing the settlers have been dead for a day or two. Enough time for a strike team to get in and get back out.”
“Why?” Seaghdh asked. The tone of his question made it clear he wasn’t asking her. It was the question they all wanted answered. He shook his head. “Turrel, V’k, take S-Two. Com link stays up at all times, no chatter. Check in at five minute marks. Two missed check-ins, retreat to the ship. Do not attempt recon. Get off world and authorize the project.”
Ari snapped to attention, frowning. “What project?”
“Aye,” the men said. Neither of them would look at her.
Damn it. The adaptable, flexible Claugh military always had a contingency plan. Seaghdh intended to authorize an invasion of Tagreth Federated. They’d have to launch through United Mining and Ore Processing Guild space, which was precisely where his rendezvous was located. Talk about clandestine alliances. Not even her IntCom lockdown of the Sen Ekir would slow them down.
CHAPTER 10
IT concerned Seaghdh that it took half an hour to find the first bodies. He’d pushed the pace, maybe unfairly, but Ari hadn’t complained. Apprehension lined her face as they searched the outlying homes and farm buildings. Every single one looked like the occupants would be returning at any moment. Two of the houses had lunch on the table, untouched, except for insects.
As they jogged into Settlement-1, a village of wood and stone buildings built around a central stone well, she jerked her chin at a tiny clapboard building. “Chapel.”
Seaghdh raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer. He stopped at the foot of the wooden steps leading up to the door, shouldered his rifle and took a deep breath to slow his heartbeat. Uneasiness walked a prickle down his spine. The smell of death was stronger. She stood beside him, moisture on her forehead, the butt of the Autolyte tucked against her waist. Disquiet stark in her frown, she nodded.
Seaghdh went noiselessly up the steps and opened the door. The cloying, sickly sweet scent of rot rolled over him. The buzz of insects droned loud in the interior. Ari, rifle hanging, one sleeve covering her nose and mouth, pushed past him. She made it halfway down the aisle before she stopped dead, the muscles of her back and shoulders rigid.
The corpses slumped in the pews and chairs. Several had tumbled to the floor. Seaghdh lowered his weapon and sighed.
Ari spun and barreled out the door, gagging. He watched her go, knowing she hadn’t told him everything regarding her involvement with these people, knowing he couldn’t offer any comfort. She stopped in the center of the village. Her head hanging, she braced her hands against the well and sucked in great gulps of air.
He ventured into the chapel to confirm what he already suspected. He didn’t need to go far to see what had killed the colonists. Clutching his rifle so hard his fingers ached, he left the building.
“Cancel containment,” she rasped as he leaned a hip on the well.
“Alexandria?” Dr. Idylle’s voice on the open com was tight with dread.
“They were shot,” Ari said. “Every last one.”
The man swore, his tone bleak and ragged. “Canceling containment.”
Seaghdh studied her as she wiped moisture from her face. “You okay?”
She straightened and crossed her arms, as if holding back the misery he could see raging through her.
“You knew they’d be in the chapel. How?” he asked.
“We didn’t just stop here sometimes,” she said, not meeting his eye.
“Every time?”
“And then some. TFC doesn’t run supply shipments to worlds this far out. Colonies live or die on their own merits. At least, until they produce something TFC wants.”
Seaghdh nodded. “So the Prowler captain ran the occasional supply shipment for her friends?”
Slanting him an unhappy glance, she shrugged. “Patrolling the buffer zone brought us out here pretty regularly.”
“I see.”
“No. You don’t.” Taking a deep breath, she unclipped her ship’s badge and eased it into her back pocket.
Seaghdh folded his badge in his fist. Whatever she had to say, she didn’t want it broadcast on the open channel. “Go on.”
“I vacationed here, Seaghdh. They didn’t just accept me, they liked me. They dangled their unwed men in front of me every single trip, trying to keep me.” She scrubbed her face with her hands and swore, avoiding his eye.
“Were you ever tempted?” Seaghdh blinked. They were on a potentially hazardous recon, had found her friends murdered, and he asked that?
Her expression bleak when she finally looked at him, she said, “Once.”
He had to look away, swallowing an unexpected lash of jealousy. “Is he in there?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, desolation ringing in her tone. “I couldn’t . . . the family I stayed with. They’re there. Third row. Their youngest daughter. They’d named her Rose.”
Seaghdh ached at the catch in her voice. Before he could conquer the impulse, he cupped her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her skin. “I’m sorry.”
A blush crept up her face as she stared at him, wide-eyed. He’d noticed how much darker blue her eyes were planetside and guessed that she wore photo-restrictive lenses. Damn it, he was on a mission. He had no business noticing anything about her. He drew away and released his badge.
Ari shifted, retrieved her badge and affixed it to her shirt pocket. “It’s like they were murdered by machines. I’ve never seen that kind of precision or cold, calculated execution. No brutality. No cruelty.”
“Men, women, children. Even the damned infants. Single shot each.” Seaghdh swore, spun, and slapped a hand against the stone well. A pebble fell. It took several long seconds to hit water.
“No enemy bodies,” she said. “I sure would like to know who—or what—the hell they were.”
Seaghdh shook his head. “There’s not a single scorch mark or broken window in the entire settlement.”
“No strike team is this clean. It’s not possible.”
“A few months ago, I’d have agreed,” he replied, staring into the dark well.
Ari didn’t answer.
He glanced at her. She stood motionless, her head cocked, eyes closed. A tepid breeze, smelling of green growing things an
d sun-warmed soil caressed them. A thin, frightened wail echoed up from the well.
Her eyes snapped open.
“Survivors,” he breathed.
“Incoming!” Sindrivik shouted over the com. “Repeat! Incoming! Six blips, entering atmosphere. Damn it! They’re right on top of you! Approaching from west northwest!”
“On top of who?” Seaghdh demanded, adrenaline dumping a boulder into his chest.
“You!” Sindrivik replied.
Ari ran for the north wall of the chapel. Seaghdh followed on her heels, scanning the western horizon. She shifted her rifle to her shoulder. He saw them before he heard them. He’d never seen a configuration remotely like the small, fast, single-occupant ships.
Frowning, Ari stepped away from the chapel wall. “What the hell are those?”
Seaghdh grabbed her, yanked her against his chest, and wedged her between the unyielding wall and him. He tucked his face into her hair. Even after everything they’d been through, it smelled like exotic honey. The warmth of her body where it pressed against his roused every single nerve ending.
“That proof you wanted?” he rumbled next to her ear, trusting that their ship badges wouldn’t pick up his words over the howl of fighter engines. “This is it. Three Claugh colonies have been hit in the past several months. All exactly like . . .”
The shriek of engines drowned him out. He felt her clench her fists. She undoubtedly intended to make someone pay for murdering the innocents of Kebgra.
The engine noise faded. Ari slipped out from under the dubious protection he’d offered. “Where’d they come from?” she demanded.
“Unidentified mother ship in orbit, Captain!” Sindrivik replied.
Seaghdh swore.
“Get back here!” Dr. Idylle ordered. “So we can get off this world!”
“Negative,” Seaghdh replied. “We’re too far out. And if we send you into orbit, you’ll be a target for that mother ship. Sindrivik.” Knowing he was risking Ari’s trust, knowing he had no choice, Seaghdh switched to his own language. Sindrivik answered in kind.
Ari raised an eyebrow at him.
He covered his ship badge with one hand and waited for her to do the same. Looking like someone waiting for the other shoe to drop, she did.
Enemy Within Page 11
