Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2)

by Sandy Williams

  The prime raised her voice over the siren. “I don’t think you understand the power you have. You don’t understand your influence and how you can use your reputation to save more lives.”

  He’d heard these same arguments after the tragedy of Gaeles Minor. The Coalition had wanted to tour him around then. Instead, he’d kept away from the cameras, first while he healed on Ephron, and then on Caruth where he trained anomalies out of public view.

  On Caruth, where he’d met Ash.

  Damn, he missed her. He half wished she’d run into the room to evac the prime, but Rykus had made Bayis plant evidence that he’d left the planet. It would take Ash a while to determine his departure itinerary was false.

  He focused on the prime. “I’m a soldier. I strategize. I fight. I kill the enemy.”

  “You were in a noncombat role on the Obsidian.”

  “I was prepping for an operation.”

  “You were boosting troop morale.”

  “It was a mission that had a high level of risk.”

  “Your next mission also has a high level of risk, and morale throughout the Coalition is extremely low due to the Sariceans’ attack at Ephron.”

  She was maneuvering him. He knew it, saw the trap placed just below the dangling bait, but he couldn’t let it go. “What mission?”

  She had the decency not to look self-satisfied. “We’re at war with the Sariceans and an unknown contingent of telepaths. We need to know if there’s any connection between our enemies.”

  “You think the telepaths are Saricean?” Rykus asked.

  “Perhaps it’s a side effect of the radiation poisoning.” Tersa delivered the statement deadpan. Her body language didn’t say she believed her words, just that it was a theory. The Saris System’s sun began poisoning the populations of three of its four planets well over a century ago. It sickened the old and the young, shortened their lifespans, and caused their skin—particularly the sensitive, sun-beaten skin of their faces—to form an iridescent sheen. But to believe that the cancer could also cause a mental mutation like telepathy? Rykus wasn’t buying it.

  “Admiral Bayis,” Tersa said. “Bring Commander Rykus up to date on our plans.”

  Bayis’s jaw clenched. It was a subtle, almost invisible movement, but from him, it was telling. “You’ve heard of our new class of sentient ships?”

  “I have.”

  “The first ship is complete. She was commissioned into service last week and is here to finish outfitting for her first mission. She’s fast and she’s lethal, and her intelligence-gathering capabilities are unsurpassed.” His eyes lost some of their chill. “The Kaelais will expand the sphere-of-war by .05 percent with a ninety-six percent accuracy. That gives us a five-second edge over our enemies.”

  Rykus kept his expression steady, but that edge was impressive. Over the centuries, the practical distance battles in space were fought across had grown. An intelligent captain coupled with a good sentient-class ship could overcome the time delay caused by that distance. Advances in technology and mathematics shortened the time by seconds too, but for a new ship to cut the delay by a full five seconds, allowing the Coalition to note enemy maneuvers sooner, was truly significant.

  Rykus’s gaze slid to the minister prime. “And that edge will help on this operation of yours?”

  “It won’t be needed,” she said, “but it’s reassuring to the admiral and a few other individuals involved in the plan.”

  “Prime Tersa has arranged for a meeting with the Sariceans,” Bayis said. “On their terms and in their territory.”

  “That’s… interesting.” It was unexpected. The Sariceans didn’t allow many individuals from outside their system to visit their planets. They had the most advanced protective grid in the Known Universe. Nothing, not people or data or drones, entered or exited their space without them knowing. Getting a key to pass that grid without raising an alarm was rare but possible. Intelligence had obtained a key for Ash’s previous team. It allowed them into Saricean space and to Chalos II, where they’d raided a database and obtained schematics to a Saricean shipyard. The mission had gone perfectly.

  Until it hadn’t. The bastard who had slithered his way into Ash’s life had intercepted her team on the return home. He’d killed everyone but Ash. She hadn’t survived unscathed though. Jevan Valt had left her in a telepathic straightjacket, then planted evidence that she’d committed treason and murder.

  Rykus’s right fist, the one he’d used to pound Valt’s face into a bloody mess, tightened at his side. “How did you arrange the—”

  The chamber door burst open.

  Rykus spun and crouched, ready to charge the invaders, but the person barreling through the door wasn’t the enemy. It was Ash.

  Their gazes met, clung, and her steps faltered. So did Rykus’s equilibrium. He wasn’t a soldier in that moment. He was the civilian, the man, who’d spent four days on the Fortune’s Citadel with the strongest, most beautiful woman in the KU.

  His lapse in composure lasted barely a second. Ash’s even less than that. She looped her thumbs into the pockets of her uniform, and the urgency with which she’d entered melted away as if she hadn’t charged into a closed meeting with a panel consisting of the most powerful people in the Coalition.

  When a smile pulled at the corner of Ash’s mouth, Rykus realized he was still poised to attack.

  Stupid, he thought, forcing himself to straighten and relax. The Sariceans wouldn’t have sent ground troops here, not without an aerial bombardment first. It wasn’t their style.

  No, this was Ash’s style. Always making an entrance, doing something unexpected and usually more than a little forbidden.

  “These are closed proceedings, Lieutenant Ashdyn.” Tersa’s voice cut through the air. She and the other two members of the panel were standing.

  Ash ignored the prime and kept her green eyes on him. “You fabricated the capsule manifest. Clever.”

  “Not clever enough apparently.”

  She snorted. “I’m not here to rescue you, Rip. I’m here for her.” She looked at the prime. “You might want to tell Hauch not to kill me.”

  Tersa frowned. “Hauch?”

  “Get on the famginn ground!”

  2

  Rykus took Hauch down so impressively, Ash almost felt bad for the guy. He was already injured thanks to her, and his head hit the ground hard. Hauch still tried to fight, tried to break Rykus’s hold and get to Ash, but her fail-safe was built for war. He had no trouble keeping Hauch down.

  Ash rarely let others fight her battles, but she crossed her arms over her too-tight body armor and watched Rykus. She liked the way he moved. Everything he did, from the holds he used to the way he angled his powerful body proved his skill, his refinement.

  He’d proved his skill and refinement in other ways not that long ago.

  “Enough,” Minister Prime Tersa said from behind the long data-table. “Rykus, let him up. Hauch, stay where you are. Ashdyn—”

  Footsteps from the corridor preceded Liles and Mandell. Ash cut between the armed soldiers and her fail-safe. Her hand went to the Covar holstered at her side, but she managed to clamp down on her instinct to draw it. These were Coalition men, her teammates, even if she didn’t want to accept them. Their weapons might be drawn and pointed at her, but she wasn’t going to escalate things further. Contrary to past accusations, she did not kill Coalition soldiers.

  “Seeker’s God,” Tersa said. “Everyone stand down.”

  Liles and Mandell didn’t take their eyes off Ash, but they heard the prime. The distrust in their gazes, especially in Liles’s, who knew what Ash was, put a sour taste in her mouth. But Liles hadn’t told the other two men that she was an anomaly. Lucky for her because Mandell might have assumed she’d snapped. It was a risk all non-loyalty-trained anomalies lived with, and she supposed she wouldn’t have blamed him for thinking it. She wasn’t exactly acting sane at the moment.

  Liles lowered his weapon first. After
a brief hesitation, Mandell followed the major’s example.

  Tersa’s sharp blue eyes cut in Ash’s direction. “Are you pleased with yourself, Lieutenant?”

  She let a smile bend her lips. “Actually—”

  “Ash.” Her fail-safe’s voice was almost inaudible, but it shut her down. Her gaze slid his way. He was looking at her now, not at Hauch who was still immobilized on the ground. Ash worked to calm her reaction to Rykus—that almost physical drumbeat in her chest—and gave a casual shrug. Even before the loyalty training brainwashed her class of anomalies, she’d been drawn to him.

  Something flickered in his dark eyes. Something hot. Whether that was anger or a glimpse of a different kind of heat, she didn’t know. He shut it off and looked back down at Hauch.

  “You good?”

  When Hauch nodded, Rykus rose. He even helped Ash’s teammate up. Hauch tried not to wince, but Ash had damaged that knee. He couldn’t put weight on it. He hobbled on his right leg, trying to maintain his balance.

  “That must have been an impressive feat of hopping,” Ash commented, picturing the tough, broad-shouldered man making his way down the corridor. “I almost wish I could have seen it.”

  Liles and Mandell looked at the leg. She could see them calculating the distance Hauch had covered to get there, and though they kept scowls on their faces, their eyes betrayed a held-back laughter. They’d give him a hard time for the hopping after his knee healed. Just like Ash’s old team would have.

  Her lungs constricted. She had to force herself to take a breath, to push away the pain of their loss. She couldn’t undo the past no matter how hard she tried. But she couldn’t keep avoiding it either. She knew what she needed to do to get some kind of closure; she just hadn’t been able to take those steps yet.

  Soon, she promised. And if this confrontation with the prime ended the way she intended, soon might be today.

  Rykus was watching her. Something told her he knew where her thoughts had drifted. Before his arrest, he’d held her half a dozen times when she’d woken up screaming her dead teammates’ names.

  She hated that he’d seen her weak. She hated that he’d seen her hurting. She hated that he’d seen her appear anything other than strong and in control.

  “You’ve interrupted a private meeting.” Prime Tersa’s voice helped Ash focus. “A meeting that is classified because you asked for all matters relating to your discovery to be kept secret. You agreed—”

  “Yeah, about that. This assignment ends now.” The loyalty training squeezed her throat. Ash was a soldier. It was her duty to follow orders, not to question them. She’d been able to circumvent direct commands when she had been charged with treason a month ago only because of the situation—her silence had protected the Coalition. But now she was free of Valt’s manipulation, and the truth that telepaths existed was known by more people than just her. The loyalty training insisted she fall in line and behave. But Ash happened to be from Glory, a planet whose inhabitants always took issue with authority. And, well, Ash was Ash. The Fighting Corps tried to bleed native idiosyncrasies out of its soldiers, but she had never managed to “standardize her behavior.”

  “Lieutenant—”

  “I’m useless here. I told you I would be.”

  “You weren’t useless on Ephron,” Tersa said. “You weren’t useless on the tachyon capsule.”

  Her mind flashed back to the Fortune’s Citadel and to the four days and nights she’d spent in Rykus’s bed. She had desperately needed the retreat from reality, and it had been an exquisite escape until the last day when a telepath might—might—have brushed against her consciousness.

  “I told you I’m not reliable,” Ash said. “That could have been nothing.”

  “But it could have been something.”

  “Give us a new assignment.”

  “Give her a new assignment.” Hauch hobbled forward. His voice sounded tight. He really should put a rejuvenation brace on that knee.

  “I’m fine with a new team,” Ash said. “I’m also fine with going after the enemy solo.”

  She could practically hear Rykus grind his teeth. Ash lost count of the number of klicks she’d run and the hours of sleep she’d lost because of her insubordination on Caruth. Rykus had never tolerated it.

  And that’s why she kept doing it.

  When he drew in a deep breath, then ever so slowly let it out, Ash hid a smile. He’d recently become more accommodating of her behavior. Almost as accommodating as Tersa. The prime’s strategy for dealing with Ash was to acquiesce to a few of her requests, to make her feel important and integral to the defense of the Coalition, and hope that Ash repaid her with obedience. And for the past month, Ash had. But that was ending today no matter how much the loyalty training threatened to choke her.

  “Major Liles, have your man take Hauch to a doctor. You might as well stay“—she scowled at Ash—”if Ashdyn will permit it. Your team will be getting a new assignment.”

  The loyalty training relaxed its grip on her free will, but that didn’t lessen the tension in Ash’s shoulders. Tersa had acquiesced too easily. The prime wasn’t a pushover. She couldn’t simply be giving Ash her way just in an effort to appear accommodating. She must have already had plans to reassign them.

  Ash held Tersa’s gaze a few seconds longer before turning to Hauch, who was still staring her down.

  Mandell put a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Come on. You can settle this later.”

  He helped Hauch hobble from the room.

  “Everyone take a seat,” Tersa said. She followed her own advice, but Bayis remained standing.

  “You’re turning this into a full briefing.” Bayis’s tone rivaled Rykus’s in the lack-of-inflection department.

  “I’m making use of this time and interruption,” Tersa responded, “so, yes. This is a briefing.”

  “This isn’t the way things are done.”

  “Adapt, Admiral. And sit.”

  Bayis’s gaze targeted Ash like this was her fault, but he complied with Tersa’s order.

  Five chairs lined the back wall. Rykus grabbed two, then dropped one down beside Ash.

  “It’s good to see you again, Rip.”

  He didn’t respond. He just sat in his chair and faced the three people seated behind the data-table. Liles retrieved a chair and sat as well.

  Casual as could be, Ash turned her chair backward and straddled it.

  “Before we were interrupted.” Rykus fixed his gaze on Tersa. “You mentioned a meeting.”

  “Yes. Five days from now. We have an invitation to meet a Saricean eminence. They will allow a single ship to depart a tachyon capsule in the Ysbar System. We will meet at Ysbar Station to discuss a settlement between us.”

  “A peace treaty?” Rykus asked.

  “Perhaps,” Tersa said.

  Liles leaned forward. “They gave us a pass into Saricean space?”

  “They did.” Tersa’s voice was bland compared to Liles’s. Like every other Coalition citizen and soldier, Liles wanted revenge. The Sariceans’ surprise attack at Ephron had killed thousands and destroyed the infrastructure of the planet’s capital city. It didn’t matter that the Coalition had been planning a similar preemptive strike. The Sariceans had beaten them to it, and it was time for payback.

  “We will meet with the Sariceans as arranged,” Tersa said. “We will not use this pass to strike at them.”

  “Then why do you need my team?”

  “Protection,” Bayis cut in before Tersa could answer. “The minister prime intends to meet personally with the Saricean eminence.”

  Ash’s gaze jerked back to the prime. Rykus went still, and Liles muttered a curse.

  “They’re baiting you for an easy kill,” Liles said.

  “It’s a diplomatic meeting. There will be no violence.”

  Liles shook his head. “The Sariceans promised a nonviolent meeting at Gaeles Minor. Instead, they butchered our people.”

  “People die i
n firefights,” Tersa said. “It was a battle, not a butchery. And I have reason to believe the spark that ignited that event may not have been the Sariceans’ fault. If I can undo the harm—”

  “The harm?” Rykus’s quiet, lethal tone caused chill bumps to prickle down Ash’s arms. “We lost thousands of men and women in that battle. We almost lost the planet.”

  Ash had to concentrate to keep her leg from jumping. The loyalty training flushed through her veins, attuning her to her fail-safe. She wanted him to give an order, something to do or say so she could morph the displeasure in his voice into—

  She dug her fingers into her crossed arms and locked her gaze on the prime.

  Ignore the pull and breathe, Ash.

  Tersa folded her hands on the data-table. “I understand your sentiment, Commander.”

  “If you’re willing to make a deal with the enemy, you don’t.”

  Tersa lifted her chin, impervious to Rykus’s ownership of every molecule in the room. “The Sariceans have always claimed we fired first. Just like the pursuit force on Ephron claimed that you fired first.”

  Magistrate Dietz whispered something into Tersa’s ear. Ash didn’t bother to read his lips. She shifted in her one-size-fits-most armor. It chafed against her rib cage, just like this conversation’s direction was beginning to chafe against her nerves.

  “You’ve spent this past month arranging a meeting with the Sariceans?”

  Tersa’s cool blue eyes met hers. “We are at war with the Sariceans.”

  “They’re not the biggest threat against us.” Valt and his fellow telepaths were the poison that could take down the Coalition.

  “You were on Ephron,” Tersa said. “You saw what they did.”