Shades of Honor (An Anomaly Novel Book 2)

by Sandy Williams

  A green-lit docking tube was a few paces away, just out of sight from where Mandell and Liles had taken up position. The hatchway wasn’t fully closed. Someone had shoved what looked like a cleaning-bot over the threshold. Tersa’s work maybe? The thing was crunched into a misshapen mess. Ash sprinted to the opening, stepped over the bot and into the transport’s quiet interior.

  “I’ll kill her.”

  Ash recognized Avesti’s voice before she saw him. He hid behind the prime, holding the barrel of his gun to her head.

  “This is a very plush ride,” Ash said conversationally. Her gaze swept over the transport. Soft, oversized chairs faced the small cockpit. They were covered with a white, iridescent material that matched the curtains that concealed the walls. “You eminences love to travel in luxury, don’t you?”

  “Leave,” Avesti said. “Leave or she’s dead.”

  “Tersa,” Ash said. “Permission to assassinate the Sariceans’ highest-ranked eminence?”

  Tersa’s mouth opened. She closed it, opened it again. She had a gun to her head, and she actually hesitated. Idiot.

  The eminence peered over Tersa’s shoulder. “I swear I’ll ki—”

  The charge from Ash’s pistol burst into Avesti’s eye.

  Tersa gasped and hunched over.

  “Ash!” Rykus yelled from the docking tube.

  “Target acquired,” she said. “Thanks for finding us a ride, ma’am.”

  Tersa stared down at the eminence. Her silver hair had fallen loose from its braid, and a bruise was beginning to form across her nose and beneath her right eye. Other than that and the flesh wound on her arm, she looked in decent condition.

  “This will have repercussions,” she said.

  “I fully intend it to.” Ash grabbed Avesti and dragged him to the cockpit. Or tried to. She made it half a step before her knees buckled.

  Rykus took him from her. “Thanks for telling me your plan.”

  The reprimand in his voice yanked her back to their days on Caruth. He’d used that tone whenever she did something he deemed too risky, things like picking fights with other instructors’ cadets, not reporting injuries to the clinic, or flirting with him when… Well, anytime really.

  “Didn’t have it planned, Rip.” She gave him a small smile before she climbed to her feet. She followed him to the two pilot chairs at the front of the shuttle. He knew what she intended now. After shoving Avesti into one of the seats, then quickly binding his hands, he opened up a comm channel.

  The Saber-class warship accepted the call. The radiation-blemished face of the ship’s captain appeared on the shuttle’s display.

  “Your eminence…” The captain trailed off. “Avesti?”

  Rykus tapped a command into the console, and the shuttle’s camera feed switched to show him instead of the unconscious Saricean. “Your ships will cease fire immediately.”

  “‘Rest in Peace’ Rykus,” the captain said. Ash almost laughed. Her fail-safe wasn’t fluent in Saricean, but by the slight narrowing of his eyes, she was almost certain he understood those three little words.

  “Eminence Avesti is alive. For now. Your actions will determine if he remains that way.”

  Footsteps shuffled behind them. Ash turned to see Liles and Mandell bringing Hauch on board. Mandell stopped to close the hatch.

  “Breach-foam is fizzing all over the damn place,” her teammate said.

  Out of sight of the camera, Ash slipped into the pilot’s chair and typed in the release code she’d programmed for the docking clamps.

  “I expect you want him back,” Rykus said. Then almost offhandedly, he added, “Unless your loyalties lie elsewhere?”

  Ash smiled as she eased the transport away from the station’s damaged hull. That was well played by Rykus. If word of D’nado’s coup had circulated, the captain would need to demonstrate which side he was on. Ash didn’t know what had happened to the other eminence, but she’d bet his power wasn’t half as solidified as he thought.

  “Very well. We will send a transport—”

  “We’ll be in touch.” Rykus killed the comm, then moved toward the back of the shuttle. Ash was about to do the same—someone else who wasn’t half-dead could monitor their progress back to the Fleet—but a display caught her eye. Behind them, Ysbar Station ballooned in one sudden, wrenching spasm. It froze there for one, maybe two seconds; then it exploded in a magnificent sphere of blinding white light.

  “Brace! Brace! Brace!” Ash yelled. Before she could look back to see if her teammates had reached for safety, the debris field hit.

  28

  Ash regained consciousness semi-upright. Her back leaned against something warm and firm. Strong arms held her close, then a low, quiet voice whispered in her ear, “Status?”

  She let her head rest back on Rykus’s shoulder.

  “I’m getting tired of blacking out.” She turned a little to get more comfortable, and Rykus’s arms tightened around her.

  “I’m tired of it too.” Tangible pain laced his softly spoken words. Her heart banked toward her stomach, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It was such an odd sensation to experience, but it happened more and more often around him.

  Seated across from them, Tersa stared out one of the shuttle’s windows. She looked deflated and tired. Not a surprise. What was a surprise was that the combination made her appear normal. Normal and younger. She’d put her career and freedom on the line in an effort to prevent war. It had been an arrogant, treasonous move, but it was gutsy too. Ash respected her for it.

  But it didn’t make her less of an idiot.

  “Any idea what happened to D’nado?” Ash asked.

  Tersa’s gaze shifted to her. “Avesti suspected his coup. That’s why the soldiers were there.”

  “We might have walked out of there if D’nado hadn’t made a play for power.”

  “Perhaps.” Tersa looked out the window again. “Avesti could not confirm D’nado’s death.”

  “What’s our ETA to the Kaelais?” Ash asked.

  “A few more minutes,” Rykus said. He pressed his cheek against hers. “Furyk isn’t happy I ended the battle. The prototype disappeared too soon.”

  “The Sariceans’ fleet would have reached us before ours did,” Ash said. “Threatening Avesti saved lives. Where is his eminence?”

  “Trussed up in the back,” Rykus said. “Nice shot by the way. You blinded him.”

  “Oops.” Rykus’s cheek was rough with the first hint of stubble. She closed her eyes, savored his closeness. She wanted to remain in his arms forever, but she felt weak, and one small, panicky part of her mind reminded her he’d compelled her to uselessness in the middle of a battle.

  She forced herself to straighten. Immediately Rykus’s arms fell away.

  She limped her way to one of the plush chairs and slowly sank into it. God, she was exhausted. She hurt everywhere, and now that the danger might be over, she couldn’t keep herself alert. Her hands shook. She tucked them under her elbows and closed her eyes.

  “Can I get you anything?” her fail-safe asked quietly.

  She shook her head. “No. I just… need time.” Time to heal. Time to think. Time to plan. None of the Sariceans had been telepaths or drones, but the trip hadn’t been a complete waste. She’d met Teal, and the crypty had unlocked Trevast’s files. Those files had then been destroyed, but Ash had a new lead: Neilan Tahn. It was a name no respectable person should know. She would find out why Trevast communicated with him regularly and why he was supposed to kill her for being “unlocked.”

  But if it took too long to draw Neilan Tahn out of the dark part of the universe, there was still Caben Riddel, the Javerian security guard. Javery wouldn’t share information about him with her, but they might share it with Rykus. And if they didn’t and all other trails grew cold, she’d return to Caruth. Valt sat there in a cell. Ash hadn’t forgotten about him. He would pay for everything he’d done.

  Three connections to telepathy. Three opp
ortunities to learn more about the threat to the Coalition.

  Rykus had said they only had a few more minutes until they reached the Kaelais, but it took well over an hour to bring them into the docking bay. Furyk was worried about the Saricean craft hosting a bomb or data-corrupting virus. Once it was deemed safe, Ash and Hauch were taken directly to the medical bay.

  She suspected they gave her something to sleep. She didn’t remember entering or exiting the time-bend, and the four days it took to capsule back to Meryk felt more like one. But they were finally releasing her. She sat up on the edge of her bed and pulled on a clean uniform and boots.

  “Who brought these?” she asked her med-tech.

  “Major Liles,” he said. “He’s down the hall with Hauch if you want to say hi.”

  Ash nodded her thanks.

  It felt good to get out of her room. She’d been idle too long. Sore muscles loosened as she walked, and her injuries only ached a little. She still had a rejuvenation wrap around her ribs. She’d give it another twelve hours, then take it off. Her DNA and the booster she’d injected a week ago had done a good job repairing her broken body.

  Too bad the same couldn’t be said for Hauch.

  “Hey,” Ash said, stepping inside her teammate’s room. Liles was there. So was Mandell. Both men smiled when they saw her.

  “I hate you,” Hauch said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “I have a broken leg, a concussion, and some bruises,” he said, “but the docs refuse to release me. You, though, they let out after four days? That’s not right. You’re the one whose heart stopped.”

  She’d started moving toward a chair but froze at the words. “My heart stopped?”

  “Yep,” Mandell said from the other side of Hauch’s bed. “I thought the commander was going to rip the station apart the rest of the way with his bare hands. The man’s scary when he’s angry.”

  “Or distressed,” Liles said. He leaned against the wall and studied her. “You’re sleeping with him?”

  Well, that was blunt. “We’re cozy enough to talk about my love life now? Fun.”

  “I’m serious,” Liles said.

  “You’ve barely slept in your bunk,” Hauch added.

  “That’s because I’ve been locked up in med-bay.”

  “Ash.” Liles pushed away from the wall. “Rykus is a war hero, but he’s also your fail-safe. How much influence does he have over you?”

  Hell. They really were concerned for her, as concerned as her previous team would have been. Even with the status and respect everyone in the Coalition gave to Rykus, they still questioned the morality of a relationship between them.

  “We’re both aware of the issue,” she said. “And I make my own decisions. He doesn’t command me.” She made a face. “Well, he’s a commander, so he tries, but I’m usually good at circumventing orders.” Usually being the key word there.

  “No kidding,” Liles said.

  She gave him a semiapologetic shrug.

  “I guess it doesn’t matter now,” Mandell said. “We’re going to Javery, and there’s no way the Coalition will let you come.”

  She frowned. “To Javery?”

  “You haven’t heard?” He glanced at Liles.

  “Heard what?” She’d been about to sit in the empty chair, but she locked her knees and forced herself to remain standing.

  “The Sariceans blockaded the planet,” Liles said. “The Javerians aren’t officially asking us for help, but they’ve agreed to allow a few liaisons to go dirtside. Hauch and I are going along with Gamma Team.”

  “Gamma Team?” The Coalition was sending one of its most notorious Special Forces groups. The senate might not be providing official military support, but they were lending the Javerians men with serious skills.

  “There’s a guy named Kalver on the team,” Ash said. “Tell him I told you to give him hell.” She still owed Kalver for saving her ass twice the month before, once on Ephron and then again when she was sedated on a capsule en route to Caruth. In fact, her list of debts to people had multiplied exponentially ever since she had been accused of treason and murder. She didn’t like owing people. It led to bad situations.

  She gave in to gravity and sat. “Rykus is going with you.”

  “He’s been asked,” Liles said. “I haven’t heard officially if he is or not. If he is, he’ll be leaving soon. Mandell and I are heading out within the hour to rendezvous with Gamma.”

  “Lucky,” Hauch muttered from his bed.

  Mandell grinned. “Hey, since Ash doesn’t have to rush off, maybe she’ll introduce you to her beauty routine.”

  Hauch threw a pillow at the other soldier, and Ash laughed. Some of the sorrow that painted her heart chipped off. She still missed her old team, but her new one wasn’t half-bad.

  Rykus sat in a coffee nook on rec deck. He’d been there for more than three hours, trying to decide if he should go to Ash or let her come to him. The doctors were releasing her today, and he needed to make things right with her, whatever form that “right” would take. She’d let him hold her for a while on the Sariceans’ shuttle, but as soon as she’d recovered enough, she’d said she needed time and moved away. Then the med-techs had taken her, and he’d been shuffled to debriefings and meetings one after the other until he’d said enough. But he almost regretted that decision now. Without a distraction, all he could do was think of Ash and the way he’d abolished her free will with one unintentional command.

  Better than remembering the way she’d looked before he’d restarted her heart. That memory he shoved to the very far recesses of his mind.

  He swiped the surface of his comm-cuff again, but he wasn’t seeing the screen. He was just staring. Staring and waiting. He should go to her.

  The air on rec deck changed. He looked up from the table. The men nearby all had their heads turned the same direction. Rykus was sitting toward the back of the nook. He didn’t see Ash until she stepped over the threshold. Then her gaze found him.

  Seeker’s God, she was gorgeous. If he hadn’t seen firsthand how quickly anomalies could recover from injuries, he would have said it was impossible that Ash had been confined to med-bay for four days. She looked more than healthy, and even in her plain black uniform, her femininity couldn’t be hidden. But it was her eyes that drew him in, the mischievous spark in them. Coupled with her poise and confidence, she was everything he wanted.

  “Rip.” She sat in the chair across from him. Only the smallest wince indicated she’d suffered an injury.

  “Ash.” He clasped his hands under the table so he didn’t give in to the urge to reach for her.

  “I heard you’re going to Javery,” she said.

  “I’ve agreed to be the head liaison.” He kept his voice steady.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  “I’ll pass along intel mostly. And try to convince the triumvirate to officially accept Coalition support.”

  “I can’t believe they’re still refusing.”

  “We’ve faced hostile forces in our space before,” he said. “And the Sariceans aren’t bombarding us yet. I-Com thinks they’ll launch a ground assault and attempt to take the thrysite mines intact.”

  “They want more of their prototypes that badly?”

  “It’s a direct reaction to the battle at Ysbar Station. They want Avesti back. They want the thrysite. And they want to punish the hero of Gaeles Minor. They think this is a good way to do all three.”

  “Is your family safe? Your sister?”

  Ash’s tone became more careful. Likely, the Coalition’s brainwashing was tugging on her free will, making her concerned for the people her fail-safe cared about.

  He clenched his teeth. He never should have taken part in the loyalty training. He should have followed his gut, left his post, and dealt with the consequences.

  But if he had left Caruth, he would have been abandoning Ash to someone else’s influence.

  “Last I heard,” he said, “they wer
e all safe.” He sat back in his chair. “Liles and Mandell are coming with me.”

  “And Gamma Team, I’ve heard.”

  Rykus smiled. “I’ll tell Kalver you said hello.” He studied her a moment. “What will you do?”

  “I asked Tersa for a leave of absence.”

  Tersa. Not him, though he was still technically commander of all soldiers aboard the Kaelais.

  “She gave it to you?”

  “I didn’t give her a choice.” Her green eyes held his, perhaps waiting for him to call her out on the breach of protocol. The fact that he was going to let it slide was another reason they shouldn’t serve together. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t treat her like any other soldier.

  “The senate’s keeping her actions quiet,” he said. “For now. They’ll hold a closed hearing to decide if she should face charges or be removed from office.”

  “If?”

  “Yeah. If. She’s convinced the right people that making her actions public would weaken the Coalition at a time when it’s crucial it appears strong.”

  Of course Ash nodded. Keeping the Coalition strong was, thanks to the loyalty training, her prime objective.

  “She should be held responsible,” he said.

  “Probably.” Ash shrugged. “But this could work to our benefit. We have something on her. She owes us.”

  Blackmail. Well, Tersa did deserve it.

  He refocused on Ash. “What will you do with your time off?”

  “The usual,” she said. “Rest. Recuperate. Revisit old friends.”

  “Old friends?” Her previous teammates were dead. She’d served with other soldiers in the past, and she would probably count a few of the anomalies in her graduating class as friends, but he doubted she was referring to them.

  So she had to be referring to older friends.

  “You’re going to Glory,” he said.

  She gave him a small smile. “Home sweet home.”

  “Are you in that much trouble?”

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she said.