“Come on,” she said suddenly, “buy that dress and let’s get out of here. There’s more shopping to be done.”
The ballroom was enormous but as the hundreds of guests made their way in it began to fill up. It was the usual extravagance of dandies with the odd uniform mixed in, and Liam scanned the military personnel. Sure enough, over by the largest punch bowl, he spotted a familiar figure moving through the crowd. Moving toward him, he realized without surprise. Rear Admiral Lord William Grandview’s eyes met his and he guided Templegrey toward the edge of the broad windows, into one of the deeper shadows near the wall.
Lord Grandview moved with his usual purpose, his long legs propelling a broad form bristling with honors and awards from a lifetime of service to the Emperor. His craggy face was fixed in a magnanimous expression as he offered greetings to everyone he passed, even as his pace barely slowed. A member of the highest noble house on Passagia and the senior officer for this entire region of space, he was a man worth knowing.
Liam bowed as Grandview strode up to them, sensing Templegrey curtsey beside him. The admiral turned his body to face the windows, as if he was enjoying the view, but his eyes locked onto Liam’s.
“Splendid to see you,” he said quietly. “You have news of your search?”
As the senior officer in charge of Daring’s mission, Grandview was the only person outside the Emperor’s inner circle who knew its true purpose. He had staked his own reputation on Riverton and Liam, and while their successes to date had made everyone wealthier, the threat to the Empire was still real. If further success wasn’t realized soon, pressure from the court might jeopardize them all.
“We do, sir,” Liam replied, giving a quick summary of the most recent intelligence in their hunt for Dark Star. The criminal organization was far-reaching, but was definitely centered in the Halo, with Silica still a main concentration, Morassia a potential hotbed, and Honoria a possible target. Their recent maneuvers had confirmed that Dark Star’s people were specifically hunting the aristocracy, but their exact political agenda was still unclear.
“I’ve also heard about increased pirate activity in Morassia,” Grandview said. “That might be worth investigating further.”
“Yes, sir. The captain is supervising the transfer of our prisoners from Black Hand and Storm Wind into Imperial custody today,” Liam replied, “and I’m sure her friends in intelligence will uncover more secrets than we were able to. Our own efforts continue.”
“Well,” the admiral said, turning to face him fully, “they’re going to have to continue faster. The Emperor is much more concerned about this Dark Star than perhaps he once was. When we started this mission, Dark Star was simply a criminal kingpin undercutting His Majesty’s legitimate revenues. Now, it seems, there is something much more seditious happening.”
“Sir?”
“Over the past two months no less than four Imperial treasure forts have been attacked. The attacks were repelled, but my people have noticed a pattern. Each time, the raiders got one step closer to success. They weren’t actually defeated or captured, but rather they withdrew.”
“Almost like they were testing each stage of the defenses.”
“Yes. Common brigands do not operate with this level of coordination. Dark Star is clearly planning something, and your intelligence now confirms the treasury on Honoria seems to be the target.”
“What would an attack on that treasury mean for the Empire?”
“Chaos. For starters, there would be no money to pay for the Navy. That could be dealt with by credit notes, but a larger problem would result. The entire noble class would be scrambling to protect their assets—which would mean loans being called, investments canceled, jobs lost. Entire worlds could be left destitute as the high lords defended their fortunes. There is, frankly, no better way to cripple the Empire than by distracting and disrupting our peers. I don’t know how long this plan has been in motion, but it speaks to a long game.”
“Agreed, sir. Now that we know which ships are regularly involved in the smuggling, we were able to search back through Imperial records and track their movements. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly, but the first indications of coordination between at least three of these vessels date back over twelve years.”
Grandview’s eyes widened slightly.
“So Dark Star is entrenched,” he said, “and spreading across the Halo.”
“Well, sir,” Liam added, “we think that Windfall Station in Silica is still a major hub for Dark Star’s organization and we intend to return with haste to continue our masquerade.”
“Be careful. There have been whispers through the alleyways of the Halo about Sophia’s Fancy. Your disguise may not last much longer.”
“Yes, sir. We have a few solid connections at Windfall that I’d like to exploit at least once more. After that, we’ll drop our current identity and begin with a new one—perhaps at Morassia.”
“Good. I’ll be deploying with a squadron of corvettes to the area,” Grandview added. “Not much armament in a pitched battle, but fast. If you need help, you send word to me and we’ll come.”
“Much appreciated, sir. I suspect Dark Star will have more forces than Daring can handle on our own.”
“The enemy forces are too widespread to counter everywhere. We need to chop off the head of this threat.”
“Sir,” Templegrey interjected, “we have a new problem: Captain Silverhawk.”
Grandview shook his head in disgust. “That idiot is in disgrace with the Navy after wrecking his last ship. I made sure that he was kept clear of any space-going command.”
“Sublieutenant Templegrey is correct, sir,” Liam said, surprised at her outburst. He’d intended to brief Grandview on that next. “He now commands a fast cutter and he disrupted our last pursuit, killing the pirate crew and destroying evidence.”
The admiral stood in silence for a moment, processing this news.
“Why would he do that?” Liam asked.
“And how did he get a ship?” Grandview echoed, his face darkening.
“It’s not a class I recognized,” Liam admitted. “Not a standard Navy hull. Very fast and not many cannon but armed with missiles.”
“What the deuce is that idiot up to?” Grandview muttered.
Liam felt Templegrey’s hand tighten on his arm again.
“I guess we can ask him ourselves,” she said quickly.
Liam looked up in time to see a tall, uniformed officer walking toward them. It took him a moment to recognize Silverhawk, his shock of sandy-blond hair now short and black. He carried a drink in his hand and there was a slight wobble to his stride, but his eyes were fixed in a predatory gleam.
Grandview turned, offering Silverhawk a stony glare.
“Captain Silverhawk,” he boomed, “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I was in the area, Lord Grandview,” he said breezily, his gaze passing from the admiral, to Liam, and resting on Templegrey. “Not showing off your opulent wealth, Ava, with that gorgeous Imperial gown I saw you in at . . . oh, where was it? The Brightlakes’?”
“I chose restraint this evening, Lord Silverhawk,” she said, curtseying.
“Wise,” he said, taking another drink, “but too late. I already looked into your sudden source of wealth.”
“I understand you interfered with a priority Navy mission, Captain,” Grandview said, stepping forward.
“Not at all,” Silverhawk replied lightly. “In fact, I was merely following my own orders.”
“What orders?” Grandview scoffed. “HMSS Daring is undertaking a mission of extreme importance to His Majesty, and you are well-advised to leave her to it.”
“A mission of extreme importance, yes.” Silverhawk finished his drink with a flourish and handed the glass to Templegrey. “So important that His Imperial Majesty has decided that Daring isn’t up to the task.”
“What are you talking about?”
Liam stiffened as Silverhawk undid a button in h
is tunic and reached within. The captain pulled out a folded parchment with great ceremony and offered it to the admiral.
“I truly wish Sophia was here for this moment,” Silverhawk mused as Grandview scanned the document. “I’d love to see even a hint of expression on her face.”
Grandview handed Liam the parchment. The Imperial seal was large and clear at the bottom, and as Liam read the script he sensed an awful familiarity. The words were virtually identical to Daring’s own letter of marque.
“So you’re not the only ones free to make a fortune while you serve the Emperor,” Silverhawk said in triumph, snatching the parchment back and replacing it in his tunic. “And as you’ve clearly been ineffective to date, I’ll be picking up the slack.”
“You report to me, Captain Silverhawk,” Grandview said, his face tightening, “and I never authorized this.”
“Your quaint, Halo notions of authority amuse me, William. I served under your command at my own noble whim.” He tapped his chest. “This comes directly from the Imperial court, where true power lies.”
“As does our letter of marque,” Liam stated firmly, “so we stand on the same authority, Captain.”
“For now.”
“And you carry the same risks as we do. If you fail, there will be no court, no rank, nor title that will protect you.”
Silverhawk paused, his eyes narrowing. Then he stepped forward, his own face closing right in to Liam’s.
“Then I shall not fail.” Stepping back, he flicked a finger under Templegrey’s chin in a mockery of an affectionate gesture. “Enjoy the evening, everyone.”
He turned and strolled off.
Liam clenched his fists at his sides and held his tongue. Silverhawk was his superior, in both rank and title, and there was nothing more he could say that would matter. It was maddening, but it was the system they lived under.
“I’m going to investigate this,” Grandview muttered. “Send Commander Riverton to see me before you depart.”
“Yes, sir,” Liam said as Grandview marched away.
“What are we going to do now?” Templegrey asked.
“We’re going to double our efforts,” Liam said, channeling his anger into action. “We’re going to work this room, find out if any other ships have been attacked recently, where, and to whom they belonged. I want to figure out if Dark Star is targeting certain families, or just a certain region.”
“No one will admit to that,” she warned.
“No,” he replied, taking her arm and guiding her back into the bright starlight, “but rumors abound, and there will be plenty of people willing to share gossip about someone else’s misfortune.”
“Quite right, darling,” she said with a forced smile. “But this is going to be a long night.”
Chapter 7
Amelia had decided that she had a new favorite port to visit. Emperor’s Reach was clean, safe, friendly, full of fun, and stuffed with the most amazing things to buy, brought in from all across the Empire. Her shopping expedition yesterday had revealed gifts for her entire family, a collection of new clothes for her, and even a special surprise for Liam. As she stood on the jetty looking back at the boulevard, snug in her new boots just delivered by the cobbler, she let out a satisfied smile. Yes, if this was what awaited her farther into the Hub, she had a new appreciation for the Empire.
“Nice boots, PO,” she heard a deep voice call behind her.
Turning, she raised one foot up and admired the soft, leather finish. Atticus Flatrock was on brow duty, looking none the worse for wear after his late night ashore.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve been looking for something to wear just around the ship, sturdy but comfortable.”
“Sounds like the kind of woman I hope to meet each night ashore.”
She smacked him in good humor, rolling her eyes. Up close she could see the redness in his own eyes and the bags beneath them.
“Looks like you found some fun last night. What time did you roll back in?”
“I don’t know, end of the mid watch. You should have stayed with us—Hedge even made it to last call without fighting.” He suppressed a yawn. “But we weren’t the last ones back. The XO and the doctor were just pouring out of their carriage as we crossed the brow.”
“Oh?” she said, clamping down her expression. Liam and Ava had been out that late? So much for the gala ball being just about intelligence gathering. Flatrock was watching her, so she forced a wry grin to her face. “Were they still dancing and prancing as they came up the jetty?”
“The XO was practically carrying our young doctor,” he laughed. “Probably tucked her right into bed as soon as they were aboard.”
Amelia flushed, and she turned away from Flatrock, barking a laugh as she strode through the airlock tube that served as the brow.
Inside the ship, all was quiet. The second day of a port visit was always a rest day, with only essential duty watch personnel required to be out of their bunks. As XO, Liam was always sympathetic to the realities of crew life—an attitude that had made him popular—but as she stormed up through the decks, Amelia suddenly wondered how much of this generosity was fueled by his own selfish desires. Did Liam simply want the freedom to indulge in his own private pleasures? Her legs burned as she flew up another ladder. He certainly hadn’t called on her last night. She reached the quarterdeck and marched aft for his cabin door. Her heart suddenly churned as she wondered who she was going to find on the other side of that wooden barrier.
Protocol—and basic courtesy—demanded that she knock and wait. Amelia grabbed the latch and flung the door open, striding in.
Liam was seated in the center of the small space, his white uniform shirt hanging untucked. His long legs were crossed, his booted feet resting on his desk and a tiny wooden box open in his lap. He looked up in surprise at the sudden entrance, but his face melted into a grin.
“Good morning, darling,” he said, eyes flicking down to her feet. “New boots?”
Amelia stopped dead, her gaze darting past him to his empty bunk, then behind her as she shut the door. There was no one else here. She looked back at him again and saw his smile fading.
“Is something wrong, Amelia?”
“What time did you get back to the ship?” she barked, hating the harshness of her own words.
“About six bells of the mid watch. Much later than we’d planned but drawing out useful intelligence at a ball requires a lot of patience.”
“And a lot of booze, no doubt.” Her anger had a full head of steam, but he wasn’t giving her an obvious direction for it.
“Not too bad,” he said, considering. “Ava and I kept drinks in our hands to be sociable, but we let the fops lose their wits as the night dragged on, while we gathered information from loose tongues.”
“Flatrock tells me you and Ava staggered back on board. Perhaps you drank more than you thought.”
“We were exhausted,” he countered, his face turning to a frown, “but I’d hardly say we were staggering. Flatrock, Hedge, and their mates certainly were, so I think I’m the more reliable witness.”
Amelia scanned the cabin again, searching for any ribbons or other signs of Templegrey’s presence. Finally her eyes came to rest on the box in his lap that he’d been so engrossed with at her arrival.
“I ask you again, Amelia,” he said mildly. “Is something wrong?”
“What’s that?” she asked, stabbing a finger.
He lifted the box for her to see. It was no larger than his hand, delicate carvings on each side. The top was fastened by brass hinges and was flipped open to reveal what looked like a diamond broach nestled against red silk padding inside. The central cluster was augmented by four points of a star.
“This is a gift I just received,” he said thoughtfully.
“From Ava?” she snapped.
He brought his feet down to the deck with a thump, rising up and stepping back to offer her the chair. He sat down on his bunk and, when she didn’t move, ge
stured for her to sit.
“No, Amelia,” he said in a measured tone that couldn’t hide his frustration, “not from Ava. Why in all the stars would I get a gift from her?”
Emotions were a difficult business, Amelia knew, and as she finally sat down she felt her anger morph into something else. But she wasn’t going to be cowed. She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together lately,” she said. “And I don’t like it. I don’t like the way she touches you, and how she flirts with you, and how she calls you darling and . . .” She wiped away a sudden, irritating tear. “And how noble she is.”
Liam’s face twisted in genuine surprise.
“Next to her,” Amelia said, sagging in the chair, “I’m just a plump, ordinary, uncouth commoner.”
“For starters,” Liam said, reaching out to take her hand, “you are neither plump nor ordinary—you’re stunning and extraordinary. I’ll concede that you’re uncouth”—his sudden smile robbed the words of any malice—“but there is nothing common about you.”
“But I’m hardly a good match for a lord,” she countered. “I’m sure you and Lady Templegrey were the talk of the ball as the new power couple. An ideal match for the next arranged marriage.”
Liam’s grip slipped away, and she could see him tense at her words.
“And now, suddenly,” he muttered, “you’re an expert in arranging marriages?”
“I think the whole thing is stupid! But I know that you all have to do it eventually.”
“You don’t know anything,” he said, his eyes burning.
She knew she’d crossed a line, knew she should back off. But she had enough anger still in her to push forward.
“Why do you never talk about marriage?” she demanded. “Why do you never tell me what your family intentions are? You’re not yet married, and you’re getting old. It’s bound to happen soon.”
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