Authors: Gun Brooke
“And?”
Rae's short tone was alarming, but Kellen didn't mind the interrogation. It was only fair. Dahlia was Rae's mother. “She said that nearly losing you, and being in charge of Armeo at the same time, opened her eyes.” She spoke softly, careful to let her sincerity be obvious. “Dahlia said that her job had taken precedence, that she had left you with employees most of the time. She regretted it and had hardly slept while we were gone. She felt she wasted your childhood and youth, and was afraid she'd never get a chance to tell you how she felt or ask your forgiveness.”
“I see.” Rae didn't take her eyes off her for several long moments. Then she gazed over the Disi-Disi forest, seemingly admiring its beauty. “So that's what she meant.”
Kellen waited patiently for an explanation while Rae digested the information.
“She embraced me when we deployed again and left Ayahliss and Armeo with her. She said, “Please forgive me, child. I owe you so much.” I had no idea what she meant, I didn't have time to ask, and later I forgot about it. Mother was asking my forgiveness for my childhood?”
“I think so.”
“And I said nothing,
nothing
, to alleviate her guilt.”
“That can actually be a good thing.”
Rae flinched and her eyes grew darker. “What? How could that possibly be good?”
“Motivation.” She ran her thumb along Rae's lower lip. “You didn't answer her directly, and since she's so preoccupied with this guilt, the notion that she needs your forgiveness means she'll fight to stay alive and find ways to escape or leave traces for anyone trying to rescue her.”
Rae didn't move. Her breathing was labored. Eventually a beeping sound from the helm's computer alerted them and broke them out of their reverie.
“All right,” Kellen said. “The coordinates are coming up.” She punched in a new command. “All hands, secure all equipment, return to your seats, and prepare for landing.” Her voice carried throughout the ship as she returned the controls to manual.
Rae did her part, going through a checklist of procedures provided by the Cormanian authorities. They descended farther and the vegetation appeared impossibly dense. Kellen had never seen such impressive trees. They were so tall, lush, and varied. Some were in bloom and others bore unknown fruit.
“You're absolutely correct, darling,” Rae whispered. “Thank you. That was what I needed to hear, and now I can focus on the assignment.”
“Good. It was easy for me to assess.” Kellen kept her eyes on the forest and saw the clearing just as it appeared on her computer screen. “We're about to touch down. It's going to be close.”
“You'll do fine.”
Her fingers danced over the controls, as if the hovercraft propulsion system was one of her beloved musical instruments destroyed in the fire that took her home on Gantharat. She compensated for a heavy wind and landed the hovercraft in the center of the small clearing.
Setting the controls on standby, she made sure they were ready for instant departure. “I should conduct a preliminary scan.”
“Yes. Make sure there are no beasts, humanoid or animal, out there.”
Kellen nodded briskly. “If there are, I'll take care of them too.”
Rae hesitated before she spoke. “Just be careful. I'll cover you from the airlock. Owena, you use the escape hatch on the port storage compartment, and Leanne on the starboard one.”
“Aye, Admiral,” they echoed, and with the use of Rae's title, Kellen knew they'd put their private friendship aside. From now on, the deployment was all about being professional.
She surveyed the clearing from the airlock. Nothing moved, and she assumed that if Emeron and her team had made it here ahead of time, they'd be just as cautious. She stepped out, her plasma-pulse sidearm in one hand and a handheld sensor in the other. The screen blinked twice and she stared at it.
“Nine humanoid formations surrounding the clearing,” she called to Rae. “They're moving in on us.”
“Take cover, Kellen. Get back inside.” Rae's voice was hardly audible as the wind howled in the trees.
Suddenly something singed past her, above her head. A red beam hit the hovercraft's fuselage with a resonant tone. She ducked, clasping her weapon tighter while staring at the sensor. “They're firing from the stern.”
“Get inside.”
She tried to fall back, but another beam stopped her.
“Stay where you are,” a deep, husky voice yelled, obviously having no problems carrying above the loud wind. “Identify yourselves.”
“We're here on a mission from the Supremeâ”
“Emeron. It's me, Leanne. Do you remember me?” Leanne appeared at Kellen's side, her hands in the air to indicate she was unarmed. “I'm your relative, Leanne D'Artansis.”
There was a long silence, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Suddenly Kellen heard a loud, sarcastic laugh. “Well, what do you knowâanother outcast.” A woman stepped into the clearing, her weapon lowered but obviously ready to engage. “What a team this'll be.”
Emeron stood at the base of the ramp that led up to the hovercraft door. The tall, blond woman who had appeared first kept her weapon raised as Leanne approached. Emeron vaguely recognized her from younger days.
“Don't sell us short, cousin,” Leanne said seriously. “Where's the rest of your unit?”
“Strategically placed, in case you aren't who you say you are.” She scanned the blond woman with the sensor attached to her weapon. “She's neither Cormanian nor human.”
“I'm Gantharian.” The blonde approached her. “My name is Lt. Commander Kellen O'Dal.”
“Lt. Commander within the SC? A Gantharian? Sounds implausible.” She waited, having learned from experience that this approach, provoking people enough to annoy them, made them display their true nature. The only person it hadn't worked with was Dwyn.
“Just as plausible as a woman of Disian descent being a commander in the military law enforcement.” Kellen O'Dal spoke promptly and without emphasis.
Emeron frowned. She hadn't expected the immediate comeback. Kellen, with her long hair in a tight braid and wearing the SC's gray mission coveralls, her skin faintly blue, looked so beautiful she nearly hurt Emeron's eyes. It wasn't until she was close enough to gaze into her ice blue eyes that she saw her strength.
“Enough with the niceties,” Leanne said, and approached her with a broad smile. “It's been too long, Emeron, and we have a lot to catch up on. That will have to wait, since we have a job to do, but we have more in common than you think. It's good to see you again.” She embraced Emeron, who stood frozen in place within the much-smaller Leanne's arms. Well aware that Dwyn and her unit were watching from their positions around the clearing, she didn't want to look as awkward as she felt. She returned the hug quickly. “You too,” she murmured.
“If we're all sure who's who now, perhaps we can continue according to our plan?” a throaty voice said. Another petite redhead appeared, this one with fiery, short hair and a commanding presence. “I'm Admiral Rae Jacelon, and you've already met my spouse, Lt. Commander O'Dal. This is Lt. Commander D'Artansis's spouse, Commander Owena Grey.” Jacelon pointed to the right of the ramp.
A woman who could have been Emeron's twin, with her dark hair and stark features, emerged from the port airlock, followed by two large SC marines. Emeron nodded briskly at the new arrivals and motioned for her unit to show themselves. Immediately, they circled the hovercraft. Dwyn walked behind Mogghy, as instructed, with Yhja and Trom.
“Civilians?” the admiral asked, and Emeron couldn't judge if she was displeased.
“Yes, ma'am. Dwyn Izontro is an environmental activist who, you could say, got caught in the line of fire by being with my team. We were on a completely different assignment when our new orders came through. Yhja and Trom are our scouts. They know this part of the forest better than anyone.”
“All right.” Jacelon greeted the military members of Emeron's unit, who saluted her smartly. “We have a job to do and a lot hangs in the balance. A team of mercenaries has kidnapped Dahlia Jacelon, my mother. They also helped Hox M'Ekar, a former Onotharian ambassador guilty of war crimes, among other things, to escape. We have no way of knowing, yet, who on board the
Viper
survived. For now we're assuming that both my mother and M'Ekar did. We've brought the latest cutting-edge tracking and scanning equipment, which we hope will enable us to catch up with them. Hopefully, we'll then be able to devise a rescue plan.”
“We've come across their tracks a few times, Admiral, but since we had to make the rendezvous time here, we could only place beacons. Hopefully the trail won't be too cold.”
“Good thinking, Commander.” Jacelon looked at each of them, and Emeron had to admit that it felt better to have someone to share the responsibility with. Being in command of this mission had weighed on her mind the last few days. And as the danger level escalated she became increasingly concerned about Dwyn's safety, which threatened to distract her from her ability to direct her unit.
“I'll brief you regarding what you need to know to carry out your duty successfully and safely,” Jacelon continued, addressing the whole group. “I don't care if you catch M'Ekar dead or alive, and neither does anyone within the SC. When it comes to my mother, we must retrieve her alive and well, since she is invaluable to the SC, both when it comes to the war effort and our internal affairs. We cannot, and I repeat,
cannot
, allow her to be taken off this planet and across the border into intergalactic space.”
“Aye, ma'am,” Emeron said. She couldn't detect any pain in Jacelon's voice over her mother's fate. Jacelon and she were apparently similar, able to drop everything personal and simply do the job.
Well, that's how I've been until lately.
“As for the crew of the
Viper
, they've committed a capital offence under the law of many of the SC worlds, including Corma, and I for one would like to see all of them stand trial.”
Jacelon continued to brief them in greater detail before giving the order to move out. “I want you to take the lead with your scouts, Lt. Mogghy. Commander D'Artansis. Damn it, this is going to be confusing. Two Commanders D'Artansis in the same unit.” Jacelon rubbed her temple.
“Why don't you call me by my first name, Admiral?” Leanne suggested. “After all, we know each other well, and I'd react as quickly to that as to my title.”
“All right. Everyone clear?” Jacelon glanced around her. “D'Artansis, you will bring up the rear with the marines. Okay. Let's go.”
Everyone gathered their back-strap security carriers, and Yhja and Trom led, followed by Mogghy and Noor, while Emeron and Dwyn went to the back. The marines walked behind them.
She glanced at Dwyn, then returned her focus to their surroundings, as well as the scanner on top of her weapon. “You haven't said a word since they arrived.” She thought it strange that Dwyn quietly strode beside her, not even attempting any conversation or small talk.
“Well, I'm not used to being around celebrities. I'm a simple kind of girl.”
“What are you talking about? Celebrities?”
“Yes, and two of them at a time are a bit much.” Dwyn wrinkled her nose and laughed softly. “I'm joking. Not about the celebrity part, of course, but the intimidation. I never thought I'd even be on the same planet as a Gantharian protector. Let alone two.”
Emeron felt like she had stepped off the real world and into the middle of a fairy tale where she had missed the opening chapter. “What the hell are you talking about?” She was careful not to raise her voice. “Protectors? Of what? And where?”
Dwyn looked like she was going to stop, and Emeron placed a hand in the small of her back to urge her to keep moving.
“You're joking,” Dwyn said. “Or you haven't you been watching any news broadcasts for the last year?”
“I normally don't watch those things unless they directly influence my job. The news isn't very uplifting, and I see enough hardship in my line of work.” She felt silly for being so defensive, but Dwyn's slight frown indicated that not watching the news was not only strange, but somehow reproachable.
“Surely you know why we're rattling weapons on our side of the border and the Onotharian Empire is rattling right back from its corner.”
“Of course. The unlawful occupation that's lasted for twenty-five years.”
“And?”
“And the fact that the SC finally has proof of crimes committed toward the Gantharian people.”
“And?”
Annoyed at this game, she shook her head. “Why don't you just tell me?”
“Who provided the SC with that intel?” Dwyn wasn't easily swayed and was apparently set on making this into a riddle.
“Some SC commodore.”