Poisoned Pawn

by Jaleta Clegg

  Copyright ©2013 by Jaleta Clegg

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  JournalStone books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

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  The views expressed in this work are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

  ISBN: 978-1-936564-81-1 (sc)

  ISBN: 978-1-936564-90-3 (ebook)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012956363

  Printed in the United States of America

  JournalStone rev. date: April 19, 2013

  Cover Design: Denise Daniel

  Cover Art: Philip Renne

  Edited By: Elizabeth Reuter

  Acknowledgements

  I always think up the most clever, wonderful things to say on these pages. Usually at 3 am. By the time I'm ready to write dedications and acknowledgements, I can't remember what I meant to say.

  I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Joel Kirkpatrick for believing in my books even before I knew he was an acquisitions editor for JournalStone. He's entertaining, warm, and a great friend.

  I also need to thank long-time friends Charlie and Steve for being there through the heartaches and triumphs and for rejoicing with me over my books.

  Big thanks to Keri for her editing input, for seeing what I was too close to see and for being honest enough to tell me when it sucked.

  And a giant thank you to those readers who loved the story enough to let me know. Sometimes I feel like I'm flinging my innermost thoughts into a giant black hole. Those notes lifted me and kept me going, let me know that someone loves my characters as much as I do.

  Last but not least, thanks to those friends on Facebook and Twitter who helped me find a name for this book. If you don't know chess, look up 'poisoned pawn' as a strategy. It fits too perfectly.

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  Available through your local and online bookseller or at

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  Poisoned Pawn refers to a chess strategy - play an unprotected pawn and lure your opponent into capturing it at a substantial loss in positioning on the board.

  Chapter One

  Lowell thumped his feet on the desk and leaned back in his chair. He held a handcomp in one hand, the screen set on the station data feed, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He watched the busy Patrol docking bay through the wide window in one office wall. Several ships had docked in the last hour, three courier class and one large hunter class. He rubbed his upper lip as he considered his options.

  An aide opened the office door. He frowned when he caught sight of Lowell. “You are going to have to leave. We have a visiting commander who requested this office. You shouldn’t be here when you’re off duty, anyway. The enlisted lounge is on deck seven.” The man planted himself in the middle of the office.

  “I’m well aware of the location of the lounge, but my rank tends to make the enlisted men nervous.”

  The aide’s gaze flicked over Lowell’s plain black uniform. “You aren’t wearing any insignia.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I borrowed a set of Admiral’s pins?” Lowell’s handcomp beeped. He glanced at the new message. He raised one eyebrow as he shifted his feet from the desk. “That’s going to cause a few problems.”

  “A Commander Lowell requested use of this office.” The aide wasn’t giving up.

  “And you are bothering him.”

  “Sir?”

  “The ship that just docked, escort the pilot to this office. His name is Trevyn Clark.”

  The aide shifted his feet, uncertain.

  Lowell tapped his com, impatient with the man. “Paltronis, please escort Major Trevyn Clark to the office. He just arrived on the station. And please remove the man who doesn’t believe me when I tell him I’m the Commander who requested use of the office.”

  “If you wore your rank pins, this wouldn’t happen, sir.” The woman on the com sounded amused.

  “Worse would happen.” Lowell fixed the aide with a steady gaze that had unnerved fleet admirals.

  “I’ll have Major Clark in the office in a few moments, sir.” Paltronis signed off.

  The aide dripped nervous sweat. “Sorry, sir. It’s easy to mistake you in that uniform. Station Commander Morgan sent me to assist you with whatever you need, sir.”

  Lowell turned his attention back to the handcomp. “Then fetch me a sandwich. And something to drink.”

  The aide saluted, clicking his heels before he marched out of the office.

  Lowell tapped the screen, calling up more information. Too many pieces in this game, too many possibilities. It was time to make an offensive move, time to bring the pieces into the same sector and into the same game.

  Paltronis tapped on the door before she opened it. Lowell trusted her with his life. She was his bodyguard, by his own choice. She was short, stocky, blond, and very dangerous. She also knew seven ways to kill someone using just her pinky finger. So far, Lowell hadn’t needed that particular skill of hers. She waved in the man behind her, then excused herself from the office. She wouldn’t be far if Lowell needed her.

  Lowell set the handcomp on the desk. He leaned back in the chair, turning his full attention on Major Clark.

  Clark wore Patrol silver with pilot’s comets on his collar. “You sent for me, sir?”

  Lowell studied the man’s open face and green eyes. Would he be able to keep a secret? More important, would he be able to keep Dace safe and steer her where Lowell needed her to go? Tayvis had failed in that mission. Maybe a stranger was a better choice.

  “I have an assignment for you, Major. It’s completely voluntary. Have a seat.”

  Clark sat like the chair was lined with razor blades. “If I say no?”

  “No penalties. You finish your tour of duty at your current post, piloting a messenger ship. Have you ever considered working undercover?” The handcomp beeped. Lowell silenced it without looking.

  Clark shook his head. “I’m just a pilot, sir.”

  “With some interesting weapons ratings and computer skills. This isn’t dangerous, Major. It involves piloting a merchant ship; and pretending you aren’t, and never were, Patrol. That’s all.”

  “I’ll have to pass, sir. Flying a merchant ship is not a problem, but why pretend I’m not Patrol? You say it isn’t dangerous, which immediately suggests it is.”

  Lowell chuckled. Clark wasn’t stupid or Lowell would have never considered him for the job. He just needed convincing. Lowell pulled up a picture on his handcomp, then slid the device across the desk to Clark.

  “Who is she?” Clark studied the woman’s face.

  �
�Arramiya Daviessbrowun, daughter of a very wealthy, very reclusive businessman in Cygnus Sector.”

  “What does she have to do with a merchant ship? Am I supposed to escort her somewhere, act as a bodyguard?” Clark set the handcomp back on the desk.

  “She’s a target because of her father’s dealings, but she isn’t the one I’m interested in. No, that would be Dace.” Lowell switched the picture.

  Clark glanced at the screen when Lowell slid it his way. “Same woman, different haircut and outfit.”

  Lowell leaned forward. “Different woman. Dace is a merchant captain currently in desperate need of a pilot. I need her in Cygnus Sector. And I need her kept safe. Targon Syndicate posted a reward for her head last week. Fifty thousand credits.”

  Clark whistled. “What did she do, assassinate one of the Five?”

  “As far as I can figure, she provided information that dismantled one of their money laundering businesses, but we had most of that already. I’m not sure why Targon wants her so badly.”

  “But you want her worse. Is she an agent?”

  “Not yet. But that’s my job to persuade her to join up. I want you to keep her safe and get her to Cygnus Sector in one piece so I can. Targon’s influence doesn’t reach that far.”

  “What does the businessman’s daughter have to do with her?”

  Lowell tilted his head, silver eyes studying Clark. The Major was sharp, maybe too sharp. “I want Dace seen, maybe mistaken for Arramiya. Just enough to flush out the ones I’m looking for. Trust me, Major Clark. Your job will be to pilot the Phoenix Rising and keep an eye on Dace, that’s all. Leave the syndicates to me.”

  Clark met his gaze, steady and even. “Why pretend I’m not Patrol?”

  “Because Dace won’t hire you if she suspected you were Patrol. She’d sit here and rot before she’ll have anything to do with the Patrol. I’ve got a full cover story ready, if you accept the job.” Lowell retrieved a folder from the desk, sliding it towards Clark.

  Clark tapped his fingers on the folder. “How long? My tour is up in three months.”

  “A few weeks, maybe a month or two. Just long enough for me to convince Targon she isn’t worth their time. Like I said, I want her seen and mistaken for Miss Daviessbrowun. That’s all.”

  “How do I get her to Cygnus Sector?” Clark opened the folder, glancing through the printouts inside.

  “She has a cargo for Dru’Ott. It shouldn’t be hard to get her moving the right direction from there. Dru’Ott has very limited trading contacts.”

  “What about the rest of the crew? Don’t merchant ships have cargomasters and others that have more influence than a pilot would?”

  Very sharp, Lowell thought approvingly. “It’s a small ship, minimum crew of three. Dace is the other pilot. Jasyn is her navigator. With only three on the ship, you’ll have plenty of influence. If nothing else, let it slip that Targon is after her and Cygnus is beyond their reach. That should get her where I want her.”

  Clark set the folder on the desk. He shook his head.

  “Before you refuse, Major, the job pays twice your normal pay grade.”

  “And it isn’t dangerous?”

  Lowell sighed. “It shouldn’t be, but where Dace is concerned, I can’t promise anything.”

  Clark grinned. “She was all over the news on Tebros a couple months ago. I’m not sure I want to be involved.”

  Sharp enough to cut himself. Lowell pushed the folder into Clark’s hands. “Think it over and give me your answer tomorrow morning.”

  “Double pay and hazard bonus if it does turn dangerous.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Unless I find something in the folder, yes, sir. You have an interesting reputation, Commander Lowell.”

  “It’s a straightforward mission, Major.”

  “So you say. I want our agreement in writing.”

  “I’ll have it ready for your signature in the morning.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Lowell tugged his lip as he watched Major Clark leave the office. Maybe Clark wasn’t the best choice.

  His handcomp beeped. He flicked a glance at the blinking urgent light. He tapped the screen, bringing up the text. Then swore under his breath. He called Paltronis on his com.

  “Sir?”

  “Dace got herself arrested. The stationmaster wants to throw the book at her. Go convince him that letting her leave will be his safest course of action. After she hires the pilot I’m sending her way, of course.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Lowell rubbed a hand through his silver hair. Clark had better be sharp. Dace was already messing up his plans and she hadn’t even left Viya Station yet.

  “Paltronis?”

  “Sir?”

  “Any word on Tayvis’ whereabouts?”

  “Planetary Survey has him assigned to a population survey in Cygnus Sector. They wouldn’t say which planet. They stated very clearly that Planetary Survey is not under the authority of the Patrol Enforcers. They also told me where you could shove your rank, but I don’t think you want to hear that. Planetary Survey Command is still upset over the last time they helped you with an investigation.”

  “I’ll apologize, again, if you think it might do any good. Send me all the information about their survey. Did you get the personnel files for Cygnus Sector?”

  “Flagged, tagged, and sent, sir, along with everything I could get about Daviessbrowun’s business interests.”

  “What would I do without you, Paltronis?”

  “You’d find someone else. Do you want me to go intimidate the stationmaster now?”

  “Please.”

  She disconnected the line.

  Lowell propped his feet on the desk, watching the bustling docking bay through the wide window. Too many pieces, too many different games, and too many wild cards loose. But that’s what made it fun.

  Chapter Two

  I sat in a cell on Viya Station and fumed. The last time I’d been on Viya, I’d left a trail of destruction and almost caused a war with aliens called the Sessimoniss. Most of it hadn’t been my fault, but the station authorities still held it against me. I wouldn’t have come but the only cargo we could get on Tebros was for here in Viya. The pilot we’d hired, because regulations insisted on two, had gotten into a nasty brawl in the worst bar on Viya. When the authorities showed up, they’d arrested me. My pilot ducked out and disappeared. If she ever showed her face at the ship again, she wasn’t getting back on. Her contract was void.

  I kicked the wall a few times out of frustration. The guard yelled at me to quit or be fined even more. I quit.

  Another long hour passed.

  The guard appeared, keys jangling. He opened the door and waved me out. “You made bail. Don’t come back.” He gave me a look that promised lots of pain if I did.

  “I’m not planning on it.”

  Jasyn waited impatiently in the foyer area, still gorgeous even though I knew she hadn’t had any sleep for almost two days. Next to her I was short, dumpy, and mussed.

  “We’re broke now,” Jasyn said as we approached the airlock of the ship. “We have barely enough to pay docking fees, if we leave in the next few hours. It’s a good thing the cargo I managed to find is pay on delivery. No deposit. What were you thinking?”

  “I was getting Letha back,” I said, slapping the controls for the hatch.

  “So where is she?”

  “I’d like to know myself.” We stepped through the hatch.

  “What happened, Dace?” She turned to face me, dropping paperwork on the small galley table. “You’ve got a black eye.”

  “Letha was in a bar, drunk and starting fights. I tried to stop her.” I touched the bruise and winced.

  “You were the only one they arrested.” She rummaged in the locker behind her for the small med kit. We had a more complete medical bay in the back cabin, one I hoped we would never have to use. With my luck, I’d spend more time in it than out, I thought sourly. Jasyn
put the kit on the table. “I’m the one who’s supposed to get in fights with men who don’t understand no.” Her voice was gentle, taking the sting out of her words, but not the antiseptic she dabbed on my cheek.

  “Letha wasn’t saying no, either, which is where the problem started.”

  “I take it we’re short one pilot?”

  I nodded while she put the kit away. “You get to hire the next one. I’ve had lousy luck.”

  “Not luck, you just make bad choices.” She tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the table. They were a light pink that contrasted nicely with the green of our ship uniforms. She had a golden zigzag on her left thumbnail, to go with the patches on our sleeves, a phoenix burning. “The station wants us gone in less than three hours. That was part of the deal to let you out. We have cargo to collect and a pilot to find.”

  “You go find one, I’ll get the cargo.”

  “I don’t think so. You’d start a riot just walking across the station. You go hire a pilot. The hiring office is right across the dock. How much trouble can you get in? Never mind, don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”

  “You trust me to choose a good one?”

  “Eventually you’ll have to. The odds are against everyone you pick being trouble.”

  “They have been so far.”

  “Then change your hiring methods. Go.” She shooed me out the hatch.

  I went grumbling, determined to hire only the best pilot.

  There was only one name, one pilot available for hire. I asked to talk to him anyway. I was told that he had just been hired. I closed my eyes, shutting out the smug hiring office receptionist and its dirty green walls with their posters and job postings, and counted to ten. It was my latest attempt to gain control. It didn’t help, but at least I didn’t scream. I turned to leave, wondering why I tried.