Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2)

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Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2) Page 23

by Sandy Williams


  “I would love to.” Ash peered up under her lashes at him. “As soon as my accounts are unlocked.”

  “Tersa said she’s working on it.” He’d asked the prime about it before they’d gone to Javery. He needed to follow up on the request. “You’re not going on an op like this again.” He fastened the helm down more securely. Why the Fighting Corps continued to supply the C12s he couldn’t fathom. There were other helms out there that were just as cheap but smaller and more reliable.

  When he’d finished checking her equipment, he didn’t step away. He glanced down at her holstered pulse-pistol. “Unmodded?”

  “As requested. Sir.”

  She didn’t like it. Neither did he, but they would both be reprimanded if they killed the enemy without permission. If everything went according to Tersa’s plan, they wouldn’t need the modified battery packs. If it didn’t…

  He glanced at the prime, who stared out the forward window, silver hair braided into regal rows. The politician would change her mind quickly when her life depended on it, and it would only take a second to switch to the lethal batteries.

  The rest of the team finished double-checking each other’s equipment. Good. Just a few more minutes and they could get this op started.

  The transport nudged against the station. A series of metal clanks indicated the attachment of the docking tube, and his restlessness returned. He did his best to shove it aside. He and Ash would both survive this op. The whole team would.

  “You’re on the prime,” Rykus said to Ash.

  Liles stepped to the status panel beside the transport’s hatch. “Environment is good. Opening hatchway.”

  “Rykus to the Kaelais: we’re breaching the station now and going in.”

  “Affirmative, Commander,” Furyk’s voice returned. “Keep the comm open. We’ll monitor your progress.”

  The hatch slid aside, revealing a long, straight corridor that was clean and brightly lit. Soft music played on hidden speakers, but the only life that greeted them was the greenery of maecen plants set inside nooks in the walls. Keeping one hand on the pulse-pistol holstered on his right hip, he motioned for Tersa and the team to fall in.

  He half expected everything to go to hell when his boot officially stepped onto Ysbar Station. The cool, welcoming air raised the hair on the back of his neck, but no Sariceans jumped out at them. It appeared the enemy might adhere to the agreement to meet in the station’s central commons.

  “Think they cleaned the place up just for us?” Ash asked behind him.

  “This is a civilian station,” Tersa answered. “It was abandoned, but they didn’t shut down its self-sufficiency. Without the strain of humans breathing the air, the life-support systems have no trouble keeping up.”

  “Cut the chatter,” Rykus said. He wanted a rifle in his hands. He hated proceeding like this, like they had no expectation of danger. They were approaching a cross corridor. They had no idea what lay out of sight around the corner.

  He slowed, shook his head, then drew his pistol. It signaled the rest of the team to do the same.

  Liles pulled up even with him, met his eyes, and nodded once. On cue, they stepped into the kill zone.

  “Clear,” Liles said.

  Rykus’s pistol panned the empty corridor. No threat. “Clear.”

  “I understand your caution, Commander,” Tersa said, “but the Sariceans promised an eight-man delegation. That number was confirmed by the Kaelais’s sensors—”

  “Sensors that can be tricked.”

  “—so can we please proceed with the most feeble illusion of trust?”

  “No,” Rykus said. He continued to clear corridors. He also had Hauch set alarm patches on each door they passed. If one of them so much as slid a millimeter open, it would send an alert to their comm-cuffs. They were already taking too many chances with this meeting; he wasn’t going to add more risk by being lazy.

  It took fifteen minutes to make it to the commons. Reluctantly, Rykus followed Tersa’s request to holster their weapons before they stepped out beneath a domed blue ceiling.

  The murmur of fountains, the warm sunglow from above, and the white stone pathways that cut through beds of flowers and trees made it feel like they were stepping beneath an open sky. Despite the station being deserted for more than two decades, the greenery remained inside their garden containers, not overflowing on the eight paths that curved from each entry point. The only things out of control were the trees. The station’s auto-watering system made them thick-trunked and healthy, but their green-tipped branches scraped and pushed at the dome overhead. Another year without trimming, and they would damage the artificial sky.

  Rykus lowered his gaze to the delegation that waited where the pathways converged, and his mouth pulled into a scowl. Very little reliable cover—cover that would stop bullets—lay between the Sariceans and the commons exits. The tree trunks might block some fire, and Rykus and his team could flatten themselves behind the low stone-encased flower beds, but this location was a perfect setup for getting shot in the back.

  The Sariceans watched them approach. Rykus recognized the man in the center, Eminence Avesti, and at his side, another top eminence, Eminence D’nado. Though they shared a title, Avesti was the leader of the highest rank of their order. His skin, though dark, had the characteristic pearling of the Sariceans. Lighter skin topped his forehead, shading darker as it passed the opalescent blemishes across his nose and cheeks, then turning a smooth graphite along his jaw. The level of iridescence led to the Sariceans considering the man blessed, not disfigured from the radiation of the Saris System’s suns.

  Eminence D’nado’s skin was naturally lighter than Avesti’s, and while his pearling was still prominent, it wasn’t yet as excessive as his counterpart. The other six delegates’ appearances varied from subtle to conspicuous, but the way they held themselves indicated they weren’t the diplomats they pretended to be. Tersa wasn’t the only one requiring her guards to appear civil.

  Stopping several meters away, Rykus noted the collars of the compression suits beneath their floor-length robes. The robes’ arms were long and wide, covering hands that could easily be holding weapons. It would take nanoseconds for them to aim and fire.

  “Ashdyn?” Tersa’s soft voice reached him. A chill slid across his skin. He wanted to turn, to assure himself Ash was okay, but he couldn’t risk letting the Sariceans out of his sight.

  “Nothing.” Ash sounded fine, but he didn’t breathe until she and the prime stepped even with him.

  “Eminence Avesti,” Tersa said. “Thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”

  Avesti spoke in Saricean. After a two-second delay, Rykus’s voice-link translated the words. “Minister Prime, we bring diplomats, you bring soldiers. If you intended this meeting to end peacefully, there should be no weapons present.”

  Yeah? Take off your robes, pearl-face.

  “It was necessary, I’m afraid,” Tersa said. “Please excuse the impropriety, but my government would not allow me to come in person without an armed escort. And it was imperative that we meet.”

  Rykus’s hand tightened on the grip of his holstered gun. Thank-yous and apologies would get Tersa nowhere with the Sariceans. It had been tried before, and the Sariceans had murdered politicians, soldiers, and innocents.

  Avesti’s eyes narrowed. The two-second translation delay felt like an eternity. “Your people do not support this meeting. Neither do ours. Skeptics soil our stars and are not allowed to breach our territory, but you’ve been given a temporary admission in hopes that your heart has been changed.”

  There it was. It had taken less than a minute. Avesti had thrown down the requirement they’d never bend on. Rykus was actually surprised. He’d thought it would take closer to ten minutes for the Sariceans to talk about conversion.

  Hopefully that was all the time Ash needed.

  He risked a glance past Tersa to look at his anomaly, who had an uncustomary frown creasing her forehead.


  “I’ve come to discuss the hostilities between us,” Tersa said, “not our differences in culture.”

  “Culture?” The voice-link translated the word quickly. “The Sanctity of Saris is a matter of fact, Minister Prime. For the Coalition not to recognize its status reveals severe deficiencies in intelligence on the part of its officials. We cannot negotiate with fools.”

  “I think he just called us stupid,” Ash said. In Saricean.

  Rykus’s heart pumped faster. He watched Avesti and his “diplomats.” Surprise that Ash could speak their language showed briefly on each radiation-poisoned face. Rykus hadn’t been surprised. That two-second translation delay had bitten many a soldier in the ass over the centuries, so the Coalition saw to it that anomalies learned multiple languages during their stay on Caruth.

  He also wasn’t surprised Ash had interjected herself into a political conversation, but he’d learned her quips and comments always served a purpose. What was her purpose now?

  Avesti eyed Ash in a way that made Rykus want to blow his arrogant head off.

  “I apologize for my associate’s behavior,” Tersa said. “She will refrain from practicing her language skills further.”

  “I am not shocked,” Avesti said. “Impertinence is common among skeptics. It’s a virus that spreads from soul to soul, which is why we must protect our stars from your deceit.”

  D’nado’s sleeve-concealed hands moved. Rykus loosened his pistol in its holster, and the unnamed “diplomats” behind the man stiffened.

  “Your Eminence,” Tersa said quickly. “A great majority of the Coalition’s population are Seekers. They seek the touched planet. They’ve been seeking it for millennia. If we can reduce our hostilities and have mutual respect for each other’s beliefs, perhaps more of them will come to believe in the Sanctity of Saris.”

  Those words came too damn close to legitimizing the Sariceans’ beliefs, and it did nothing to dispel the rapidly increasing tension in the commons. Sweat trickled down his back despite the cool air.

  He focused on Ash again, ready to signal that it was time to return to the shuttle, but Ash wasn’t looking at him. She stood very still, and her gaze locked on D’nado.

  24

  Through the thick tension in the air, Ash felt her fail-safe’s gaze.

  She glanced his way, gave him a very subtle shake of her head to indicate no, she didn’t feel a telepath among the Sariceans. They all seemed… flat. War Chancellor Hagan’s presence had felt frayed from the moment she first saw him. The almost unnoticeable tear in his consciousness had irritated her like a too-tight collar rubbing against her throat. None of the Sariceans were like him. They weren’t drones, but D’nado… Gut instinct told her something about him was off.

  “We’ve attempted to share the news of the Sanctity of Saris,” Avesti said. “But the Coalition has thwarted our efforts. It has murdered us for our beliefs.”

  D’nado’s nostrils flared. Then his gaze shifted from Ash to Tersa.

  And Tersa’s shoes shifted on the stones. She cleared her throat. “You speak of Gaeles Minor.”

  Ash’s instinct fired another warning, and on the opposite side of Tersa, Rykus stiffened. His gaze jerked to the prime, his dark eyes demanding what the hell are you doing?

  Tersa raised her chin. “On behalf of the Coalition, I offer our condolences and an apology for the Saricean lives lost in battle.”

  “Tersa.” Rykus said her name like a curse. He radiated more fury than a sun radiated light.

  The loyalty training tugged at Ash. She fought against the urge to… to do something to disperse his rage.

  “Obviously,” Avesti said. “Not everyone shares your sentiment.”

  A muscle in Rykus’s cheek twitched. “Gaeles Minor was a preemptive attack on a civilian population. You fired the first shot in a meeting that was very similar to this.”

  “Commander.” Tersa raised her hand in a gesture likely intended to calm him. Instead, it increased the hot hate in his eyes.

  And he wasn’t the only one burning. Liles and Mandell’s expressions both had dark edges, and behind Ash, Hauch’s heavy boots shuffled. The commons had felt large, open, and serene when they’d entered. Now it felt small, cramped, and chaotic. One wrong move and blood would splatter the stone walkways.

  “Meeting’s over,” Rykus said. “It’s time to leave.”

  “If I may.” D’nado stepped forward.

  “You may not,” Avesti snarled. “You will—”

  “The Coalition regrets its actions against us, your Eminence. Its acceptance of blame for Saricean deaths demonstrates its willingness to consider our views on sanctity. Saris is the chosen planet. If we are open—”

  “The Devil of Gaeles Minor isn’t open.” Avesti’s cold eyes locked on Rykus. So did the eyes of the “diplomats.” Disdain was apparent on all their faces. One of the unnamed moved his hidden hands, causing the material of his sleeve to ripple in a way that confirmed he held a weapon.

  A cold compulsion swept over Ash.

  Her fail-safe had just become a target.

  “Hey, asshole.” The loyalty training made Ash’s voice lethal. “Careful where you point your attention.”

  Avesti looked at her with tangible disgust.

  D’nado and Tersa’s gazes met, and Ash’s instinct twisted again. They knew each other, and the recognition wasn’t just the kind that said, “Hi there, I’ve seen you on vids.” It said, “I’ve met you in person, and our causes align.”

  Ash’s heart thundered in her ears. Each loud beat highlighted a puzzle piece: Tersa’s insistence on this meeting, her assurance that all would be well, and the specific yet illogical apology she’d just made.

  Stupid, insane politician. She’d cut a deal with D’nado.

  Tersa moved in front of Rykus at the same time D’nado stepped back, and the six unnamed Sariceans lifted their arms. The sleeves of their robes gaped, allowing the artificial light to shine on weapons.

  Weapons that pointed at Avesti.

  Shit.

  “Remain calm, gentlemen,” Tersa said. Her arms were outstretched, but that didn’t stop Ash and the rest of the team from drawing their pulse-pistols.

  “You knew about this,” Rykus said. He trained his weapon on the enemy and moved to protect the prime from the line of fire.

  “Words can save lives, Commander.”

  “We were here to recon,” he said, “not to grovel.”

  “It was a necessary deceit.”

  Ash kept her eyes on the Sariceans.

  “You will regret this treason, D’nado.” Avesti focused on Tersa. “As will you, Minister Prime.”

  His words—the menace and certainty in them—caused a chill to crawl across Ash’s skin. Before the two-second translation delay passed, Ash spun Tersa around and forced her down the path they’d arrived on.

  “Ashdyn—”

  “Meeting is over,” Ash said. The rest of Trident Team moved too.

  “I am in negotiations with D’nado. I can work with him.”

  “Unilaterally?” Ash demanded. Tersa’s tight-lipped stare confirmed Ash’s guess. Tersa hadn’t sought advice or approval from the senate; she’d met with D’nado in secret.

  “And you guys charged me with treason?” Ash said. “Stupid. So damn stupid.”

  “Rykus to the Kaelais,” Ash’s fail-safe said the moment they exited the commons. “En route back to the shuttle. ETA to departure, five minutes. Cover our asses.”

  They weren’t going slow and steady on this retreat. They were double-timing it through the station. Coups were ugly, messy, and fragile. The usurper might think he or she had scraped up the support to overthrow the leader, but that support tended to get real quiet when things didn’t unfold smoothly. Ash had seen it happen before. She didn’t want to be around to see it happen again.

  “Rykus to Kaelais,” Rykus said again. “Confirm my last transmission.”

  Ash glanced at her fail-safe.

  “Rykus t
o Furyk. Acknowledge.”

  Foreboding sank heavy in her stomach. The Kaelais should have replied instantly.

  “Ashdyn to the Kaelais,” she tried. “Confirm you’re receiving.”

  One by one, her teammates tried to reach the Kaelais.

  Rykus slowed. He met Ash’s gaze. The look in his eyes, the touch of worry, pulled at Ash’s puppet strings. He wasn’t looking at her like a soldier; he was looking at her like someone he needed to save, and the loyalty training made her respond to that. It made her want to seek safety.

  “Tersa’s the prize, Rip,” she said through gritted teeth. “If the Kaelais isn’t responding, we’ll head for the Fleet.”

  He blinked, and the concern vanished from his eyes. Rykus the commander was back. He turned to Mandell.

  “Get on the long-distance comm. Contact the nearest ship. Tell them we need—”

  “—is Furyk.” Ash’s voice-link crackled back to life. “We’re having trouble with our comms. Repeat your status.”

  Rykus let out an audible sigh. “We’re departing in four minutes. The Sariceans are in the middle of a coup.”

  “A coup?” Furyk sounded distracted. The link clicked again, several times. “Did you engage?”

  “No—”

  The link popped loud. Feedback echoed in Ash’s ear. She walked backward, joining Hauch in protecting their retreat. The Sariceans could be jamming them. If they were, someone had decided Tersa shouldn’t make it back to the Kaelais.

  “Captain?” Rykus said.

  “I’m here.” Agitation bled into Furyk’s voice. “Confirming your departure in four min—”

  “Kill the comm! Kill the comm!” A new voice burst onto the transmission.

  Teal’s voice.

  “Specialist—”

  “No,” Teal cut off the captain. “Don’t accept that—”

  The link went dead.

  Trident Team stopped walking.

  “What the hell just happened?” Mandell asked.

  Hauch cursed. “I think we lost co—” He looked down at his wrist.

  Ash’s comm-cuff vibrated: the door alarms they’d set. Four of them had activated.

 

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