by Natalie Grey
“And he gave you training.”
Another nod. She’d told him that herself, she could hardly go back now.
“So why defect?” His tone was conversational, his hands held palm to palm, rubbing slightly against one another. He was never still, this man, not in his body—but in his eyes, there was only silence, and a void.
Now they came to it, and the conversation had turned so upside down that she didn’t know what to say.
“It wasn’t … right. Him sending Apollo to kill you.” And, to set him off guard. “You seem nice.”
The most unsettling part was that she believed it. She shouldn’t believe it. And, interestingly enough, he didn’t seem to believe it.
“That would be about the first time someone’s accused me of that in … years.” He looked at her like he thought she was lying, trying to butter him up.
Had she been?
“Really?” Her mouth was continuing on without any sort of input from her brain. “You care about your soldiers. I saw you notice how the woman with the dark hair was wincing. Something’s wrong with her rib.”
He tilted his head to look at her, and she shrugged.
“She got that on Ymir,” he said finally. “Taking down one of the Warlord’s soldiers.”
I helped with that. She didn’t say that. She still didn’t know what was going on.
“Is he really gone?” She looked at him, shaking her head. The Warlord had been in power for so long that it was hard to believe, and Aleksandr had called her back in radio silence just as the news broke.
His eyes narrowed. “How did you think—” He broke off. “Haven’t you been reading the news?”
“No,” she admitted gratefully. That could excuse any sort of ignorance on her part. “I’ve been…” She should have thought this through before starting to talk. “I’ve been sick.” Did that hang together? Yes. “And then I got the mission to take you out.” Not quite right. “With Apollo.” Yes, that.
“You stabbed your comrade in the back?” he asked her. His tone was mild, but she noted some distaste.
“He was not my comrade. I don’t fight like he does.” She jerked herself away and winced as the cuffs constricted into her flesh. “Dammit.” She turned to look at him again. “I am nothing like him. He’s sloppy. He’s cruel. He doesn’t care who he kills.”
“You should be using the past tense.”
“You want me to feel sorry for killing him? Well, I’m not.”
No one else understands that violence can solve things, Aleksandr’s voice said in her head, echoing across the years. No one else sees the world like you and I do. Tera sighed.
“I’m sorry. I do regret it. I do.”
“No, you don’t.” He sighed. “And I believe I said I would throw you out the airlock if you lied to me again. Don’t worry, I’m not going to. But you’ve made me go back on my word, and I hate that.”
She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. She looked at his face and she laughed.
“What?” But he was laughing, too.
“You’re trying to look all grumpy, and it isn’t working very well.” She bit her lip on her giggles.
He grinned down at his hands, and sobered slowly, looking up. His eyes traveled over her face, over the muscles in her arms and the quality of her gear, and Tera felt herself blushing. It was at once impersonal, and yet also as if he wanted to see down past her bones and into her soul. Not even her father had ever looked at her like that; he assumed, she realized now, that he knew her. Talon Rift assumed nothing.
“So why did you leave?” he asked again. “Had you not seen the news until you arrived?”
“I still…” She hadn’t even seen the news when she did arrive. It had been a trick and a half to get off the Haemon without Apollo noticing her, and he’d left remarkably little time before setting off to meet Talon. She’d only barely gotten to the hangar before Talon’s team had.
“So you just decided to defect because … I seemed nice….” He stared at her. “And this is based on you watching me fight your fellow assassin.”
“Aleksandr shouldn’t have sent him to kill you,” she said, falling back on the refrain that seemed workable.
“Can you really blame him?” Talon seemed bemused. “I’ve ruined the man, and I’m trying to hunt him down and kill him. I’d hardly expect him to take that lying down.”
“Yes, well….” That was a very good point.
“I mean…” Talon looked up. “You have to wonder if he really thought he’d get away with it forever.”
“Mm.” She had no idea what he was talking about.
“I suppose he did,” Talon said, after a moment spent considering the mystery. “Retire from Intelligence, say he’d earned himself some rest, buy a big house somewhere…and fade out of the public eye. Build his little copy of Versailles on Ymir and live out his days there.”
Ymir? Tera kept her lips shut on the question. Had Aleksandr worked for the Warlord himself? Defected from the Alliance?
No, that was impossible.
“What made you decide to turn now?” The question was sharp, sudden. He was tired of waiting.
“What?”
“All this time you were his assassin. You must have killed … resistance leaders, children….” All the warmth was gone from him. He was staring at her as though she were something disgusting. The scum around the edge of a toilet, maybe. “And now, when he’s finally coming after the Dragons, now you think it’s wrong?”
“I do not kill children!” The words came out of her with horror. “I don’t! I would never!”
He blinked.
“You want to know who I’ve killed? Slave traders. Arms traffickers. The same people Dragons kill. And you know why? Because he needed me for the same reason he needed you. I’d expect you of all people to understand. There are people the law can’t reach, and—what? What? Why are you staring at me like that?”
He sat back in his seat, eyes narrowed speculatively as he looked at her.
“So … you were his ally in some things. Things you saw as worthy causes.”
She decided it was best to nod.
“But, still.” He leaned forward, intent. “How…if you’re so horrified by the thought of killing children, how did it take you so long to defect? You must have known the truth about him.”
“I … didn’t.” It was the only answer, wasn’t it?
“But he raised you. And you’re….”
“What?” Her voice was soft. She wanted, suddenly and desperately, to know what he would say.
“You’re smart. You never figured out what he was until the news broke?”
“How could I have believed it?” That seemed safe, logical. What the hell was he talking about?
He gave a chuckle and then put his hand over his mouth.
“I shouldn’t—I’m sorry. That must have been terrible. He’s … well, he’s almost your father, isn’t he?” He shook his head. “How does it even feel, to find out something like that? Can you even believe it now, then? How do you accept that he’s the Warlord?”
She stared at him, entirely frozen.
And then there was a small moment of mercy. The comms crackled and the woman’s voice sounded from the speakers above them. The woman with the dark eyes and the hurt rib, Tera remembered; small things were coming to her slowly with a strange kind of clarity as her mind tumbled over and over, lost.
“Boss? You’ll want to get to the bridge. There’s something you should see.”
“I’ll be right there.” Talon looked over at her. “I’ll be back.” And he was gone.
Tera stared after him blankly. There were no thoughts beyond the single question, over and over.
The Warlord? Aleksandr Soras was the Warlord of Ymir?
It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.
And yet, even if it was a lie, her mission had been turned upside down. Because Talon, she was absolutely sure, was not doing this for money or fame or power or cruelty.
Talon believed it.
5
Talon pounded up the narrow metal stairs from the brig, hands on the rails. He could feel the breath in his lungs, his palms skimming the handrails as he took the stairs easily two at a time. He was aware of the ripple of muscles under his skin and the cloth sliding over it; since when had he been so powerfully aware of his body?
“Whoa! Hey.” Ramon Grose, known amongst the Dragons as Jester, stumbled back at the top of the stairs as Talon collided with him. He caught his balance and salvaged a salute with a flourish. “Sorry, sir.”
“My fault.” Talon clapped him on the shoulder. “As you were.”
“The dear Major, lost in thought?” Jester lifted one eyebrow.
Talon opened his mouth to respond, trying to find words. Her face came to him at once: the elegant line from cheekbone to jaw, slanted brows, brown eyes flecked with gold.
And that mouth. Downturned at the corners when she was at rest, it was her only weakness, endlessly expressive. With most people it was the eyes, but not her. Not Tera. Her eyes were still and watchful, while he had seen her lips purse as she fought the shackles and stretch in a ready grin even when her eyes were still cautious. Her mouth drew in at the corners when she was lost. Did she know that? Probably not. She didn’t seem like she was used to being interrogated. She was a woman, he sensed, who killed swiftly and was gone before the interrogations began.
“Commander?” Jester was staring at him.
“It’s a stroke of luck, having one of the Warlord’s own assassins to question.” Well, he had been thinking about the assassin. It wasn’t quite a lie. “I’m sure we’re about to learn a lot of very interesting information.”
“Boss?” Nyx’s voice was on the loudspeakers, cautious.
“Tell the crew to meet in the mess in ten minutes,” Talon told Jester. “We’ll need to debrief about Tera.”
“Who?”
“The assassin.” It was not a good sign that he was using her name. Talon turned without a word, before Jester could see the consternation flash in his eyes, and sprinted his way along the corridors to the bridge. “My apologies, I was delayed.”
“She’s talking?” Nyx raised an eyebrow. “That’s … well, not important right now. We’re being hailed by a ship called Everest.”
“Where are they?”
“Hiding on one of the pieces of debris in that field over there.” She nodded her head to where a small cloud of rubble clustered around a moon. “They don’t want to come out until they can locate our ship on the scanners and, well….” She gave a beatific sort of smile. “It seems they’re having technical issues.”
“Remind me to give you a promotion.”
“Anytime, boss.” Her fingers hovered over the comm button. “Are you ready to talk to them?”
“Yes, let’s. Did they say anything?”
“They asked for you by name.” They shared a look. It was possible to trace the registration of the Ariane … but difficult.
“Well, then.” Talon lifted the receiver. “Everest, this is Talon Rift. I apologize for the delay.”
“Major.” The voice that came back was abrupt. “We understand you have a young woman on board who might be traveling under the name Tera Soras.”
Soras? Nyx mouthed at him. Talon waved a hand at her to be quiet.
“You’re mistaken.” Not quite a lie. She hadn’t used Soras’s last name—although he certainly intended to ask her about it the next time he went down there. Had Soras actually adopted her? That could get messy. “We’ll pass along your message at our next port of call, however.”
“We require her to be transferred to the Everest immediately.” The captain of the other vessel continued as if Talon had not spoken at all.
“I really can’t help you.” Talon kept his voice light. “But I wish you luck in your search.”
“Major.” The voice was quiet. “I believe you know that it is … unwise … to displease the Warlord of Ymir.”
Nyx stilled, her hands drifting to the weaponry on the flight controls.
“Well, if the Warlord sent you…” Talon smiled. “Then you must know that he and I are already on poor terms.”
“I am only a messenger.”
“Oh, come now. I tried to kill the man. I’m the reason he can’t really call himself the Warlord of Ymir anymore, and I’m presently trying to hunt him down and kill him. I’d say our relationship is rather beyond repair, wouldn’t you?”
The captain of the other vessel said nothing. Nyx sank her head into her hands, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitching.
“Oh, and when you see him.” Talon considered how much of the story to tell. “Tell him a man named Apollo is dead.”
“And when should we expect Ms. Soras to be transferred?”
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Something itched in his head. Instinct, he’d learned to call it. He nodded his head to the jump button and Nyx nodded. Her fingers danced, sounding a silent alert to the crew. A button flashed on the control panel.
They’re arming weapons, she mouthed at him.
So that was it. Talon stilled, his mind racing. The Warlord had authorized force on an Alliance vessel. It was a dangerous move. It was the move of a cornered animal. The question was, were they prepared to take the ship down with Tera on board rather than let her get away?
Nyx motioned for him to keep talking while the core primed itself. As she reached up to start securing the portions of the ship for a jump, Talon brought the radio back to his mouth. Keep them talking. He could do that. Fifteen seconds until the core was primed.
“Everest, are you sure this young woman was on Akintola Station? I may have seen her.” Talon stared down at the comm.
“She was seen boarding your ship,” the captain said, unimpressed.
“As I’m sure you know, captain, it’s quite easy to find someone who can say anything on Akintola Station if you just have enough money. I believe I may have seen her in the docking bay.” Seven seconds.
“Major, the Warlord will have this woman back now, one way or another.”
It was impossible to tell if that included ‘as a corpse,’ and Talon wasn’t about to find out.
“I see.” Three seconds on the jump core. Two…
“Please wait for us to dock with—”
Talon reached out and slammed his hand down on the jump button.
Nyx always described jumps as the world turning inside out, and Tersi argued and said they felt more like the moment at the top of a rollercoaster when you could feel both the weightlessness and the sickening drop. For Talon, however, they felt as if he had slipped into a world running half a second behind his own. He was locked in the liquid stream of time and yet jerked roughly out of it, all at once.
It gave him a headache, every time. He rubbed at his temples as they came out of the jump and groaned.
“Where the hell are we?”
“Middle of nowhere.” Nyx looked over. “We restocked the pain meds at Akintola. D’you want—”
“It’s fine.” Talon leaned back in his chair. “So the Warlord wants her back. Not entirely unexpected.”
“She’s a Soras?” Nyx went straight to the point.
“She told me he rescued her on Osiris and raised her.”
“Then she’s bad news.”
“She’s an assassin.” Talon looked over at her, arms folded over his chest. “She was already bad news. Come on. I told Jester I’d tell everyone what’s going on.”
“Good plan.” Nyx unhooked and stretched.
“How’s the rib?” Talon asked as they walked.
“It’ll be fine. I should have stopped for a medical visit on Akintola, but….”
“But you hate doctors, and then we blasted our way out of there?”
“Something like that.” One shoulder lifted, and she gave him the shadow of a smile. “And I didn’t want to put us on his radar—or let him know Lesedi was still alive.
”
“We’ll get you care,” Talon promised.
“You know that can’t be our top priority.” She nudged him with her arm and he saw genuine affection in her eyes. “Come on, where’s the cold-hearted bastard we know and love?”
“I’m getting soft in my old age.” Talon grinned ruefully as they came into the mess. He looked out over the crew assembled, and leaned back against the doorframe. “We have an…interesting situation. The assassin we brought on board purports to have been raised by the Warlord, and an encounter we just had with a mercenary ship—Nyx, any trace on that? No?—might have confirmed it. Unless it was meant to be corroborating evidence on that setup.”
“I wouldn’t arm weapons to fire on a Dragon ship unless I was prepared to fight,” Nyx offered. “And they wanted to talk to you, not just anyone.”
“True.” Talon rubbed at his head.
“So, why defect now?” Sphinx asked. Her thick, golden-brown hair was drawn back in a bun at the back of her head, and she leaned on one of the tables, golden eyes alert.
“A good question, and one to which, I’m afraid, she doesn’t seem to have much of an answer.” Talon looked out at them all. “She said, and I quote, that it was wrong of the Warlord to send the other assassin after me because—and again, remember I’m quoting—I’m nice.”
There was a pause, and then the entirety of the crew burst out laughing. Nyx was holding her side, Jester clapped Loki on the shoulder, and Sphinx spat tea on the table.
“Well, if she really was raised by the Warlord, maybe you do seem nice to her.” It was Loki’s voice, soft but strong. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, and Talon saw that his face was grave. “We know how the Warlord fought. He had children executed. If she has a sense of honor, she might well side with the Dragons against the Warlord.”
“Which would mean he would want to get her back,” Jester concurred. “We saw her fight. Hell, where was she hiding? I didn’t see her until she was right up on that other one.”
Talon only nodded to acknowledge the question. They had no answer to that. Dragons, though they fell on the side of the line that separated enhanced from cyborg, were heavily upgraded. For this woman to have surprised them meant she could move both quickly and silently. It was disconcerting.