The guys were all shocked, but the ambassador wasn’t finished. “These, too, require that you accept citizenship with Dreth and become tri-citizens of the Federation. We would be honored if you would accept.”
As one, the team laid their fists over their hearts. “The honor is ours.”
At their response and the pride her team had stirred in her, she had to hold back a tear.
Once the last medal was pinned in place, the king stepped forward to stand beside Jaleck. He addressed the audience. “Please join me in welcoming our new citizens, the first of three worlds.”
He turned to her and the team. “Citizens, heroes, please turn and accept your welcome.”
Facing the gathered Meligornian, Dreth, and human dignitaries was almost overwhelming, as was the applause. When it finally ended, the king invited them all to a special reception where they mingled, met dignitaries, sipped drinks, and were congratulated and celebrated.
Once the initial crush was over, she approached the queen and bowed in greeting. The Meligornian royal bowed in return. When she saw the queen was accompanied by the ambassador’s wife, Stephanie bowed to her as well.
“We have very much looked forward to meeting you,” the queen said. “Knowing there is someone who will stand for all that is good warms me. You don’t see it often these days.”
The ambassador’s wife leaned forward and kissed Stephanie’s cheek. “V’ritan has told me so much about you. And you have woken a part of him I haven’t seen since…well, not for a long time. Thank you.”
She shook her head. “He has been immeasurably important to me. He has encouraged me and spoken to me of magic when there was no-one else who could. He’s kept me pushing forward and protected me when I was hurt and in need of sanctuary. I will always keep him, and you, and everyone as safe as I can.”
The queen touched her arm. “And we are here for you. We are here to help you. While we may seem too important to care, that is not the case. You are valuable and we are here for you. Meligornian rulers fight for the future as well. We don’t simply send others to do it for us.”
Stephanie smiled. “I never doubted it.”
The queen looked at the crowd and shook her head. “When unique things happen, like your arrival, it means the universe is entering tumultuous times.”
She nodded. “This, I already know.”
The queen tilted her head and glanced at the ambassador’s wife. “How is that?”
In answer, the energy rose so swiftly that Stephanie could barely stand. Her eyes turned quickly to black and her voice lowered and flowed like a small breeze, soft but powerful. “When the world needs her, a Morgana will rise to help. I am that Morgana, only this time, it isn’t only my world that needs help, but all those who are in the Federation.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Silence followed Stephanie’s oddly foreboding reply. For a moment, neither Elza nor the queen moved, then the ambassador’s wife linked arms with her and took her around the room to meet and greet important Meligornian and Dreth individuals. The queen joined them on her other side.
“Come, there’s someone you need to meet.”
Elza exchanged glances with her sovereign, who smiled. Before she could say anything, though, her attention was caught by a lady who waited nearby. With a half-suppressed sigh, she touched her arm in farewell.
“I’ll leave you in Elza’s capable hands,” she told her. “Duty calls.”
The Queen drew a breath, stilled, and turned. She somehow became more queenlike as she responded to the woman who waited for her attention. The other woman tugged on her arm and led her to an older Meligornian dressed in bright green robes shot through with silver.
“This is Meligorn’s leader of faith and spirituality. We have very practical beliefs, but we do understand that the universe gives us energy and that magic fuels everything on this planet,” she explained and touched his arm to draw his attention to Stephanie. “High Priest Gigfore, I’d like you to meet Master Morgana.”
He shook Stephanie’s hand with a smile. “And I bet no one needs to tell you of the universe’s energy, Master. I bet you can feel it running through your veins.”
She was taken aback that he appeared to sense her power, but she managed a smile. “I do. It is amazing and so different to what there is on Earth.”
“Well, if you ever wish to attend some of our meditations, let me know,” he replied.
Knowing a dismissal when she heard one, she nodded to him and they moved on. At the sight of a flamboyantly dressed figure moving toward them, Elza leaned close and murmured, “This woman is obviously human and owns a very large house on the Lakes of Delgore, west of here. She is quite overdone so please, go with it.”
Stephanie chuckled at the woman—loud, older, and dressed as though she’d stepped out of 1800s Earth in a long gown and corset. Her manners, however, were not 1800s Earth, and she greeted her with a sturdy handshake. “You are even cuter in person. I hoped we would meet. I am having a little soiree next weekend if you are still on Meligorn. We would love for you to attend.”
With a very polite smile, she nodded. “Thank you, although my schedule is uncertain at the moment. If we are able to make it, we’ll give you a call beforehand. I’m sure Elza knows how to contact you.”
“Oh yes, honey.” The woman covered her hand with both of hers and shook it again. “Elza is my favorite guest.”
She released her and twirled, and the two women giggled together as they watched her go. Her forwardness and flirtation and wildly huge cleavage were definitely a little over the top. When they stopped their promenade through the room, they remained close and observed those around them. Some had clearly drunk too much of the wine.
Elza shook her head. “Oh, this is too much fun. Some of these people are seriously not from any of the three planets. I don’t know where they came from, but no one really wants to claim them.”
Stephanie was about to reply when a deep Dreth voice interrupted her.
“You!” it bellowed from beside her.
Elza glanced over and drew herself to her full height, and her face took on an imperious look. The Dreth snorted, ignored her, and poked his finger into Stephanie’s shoulder. “You, witch. You aren’t really that strong.”
The ambassador’s wife looked around, obviously trying to find security. “Let me—”
She shook her head and patted the woman’s arm. “It’s all right, I’ve got this.”
Before her companion could reply, she turned to the Dreth and stared at him. His slight sway and lowered eyelids meant he’d spent way too many hours at the open bar. From the look on his face, he wanted to fight her.
His forehead furrowed in concentration as he studied her and tried to stay upright. She wondered how many of her he could see and moved slightly closer as she tapped her fingertips together. “Do you know the problem with those who believe strength rules?”
He sneered and lowered his huge head as though to hear her. “What?”
A few feet away, Jaleck closed her eyes, rubbed her temples, and snapped her fingers to some of the Dreth soldiers who had accompanied her. “One damned night, Vishlog. You didn’t have to show your ass. I will put you in chains for a month.”
Stephanie ignored the Dreth ambassador and stared at Vishlog. She knew her eyes were turning black, and his mouth dropped open slightly to confirm it.
She pulled her hand in front of her chest and held her pointer and middle fingers together, folding the rest against her palm. With a slight swipe of her fingers, she sent him into a slide, back into the center of the room. Everyone stopped to watch as she flicked the same two fingers upward.
His face filled with shock as his feet lifted off the ground and he began to float toward the ceiling. He milled his arms and legs wildly in an effort to stay upright. She sauntered forward and stared at him with her hands on her hips. “Strength requires friction, or it does you no good.”
The Dreth guards ran over and grasped h
is legs. They all looked at her. “We are very sorry. He’s had too much to drink and he’s a handful even without that.”
Stephanie smiled. “It’s nothing.” She shrugged. “We all have issues. At least he’s honest, as I find most Dreth to be. I’d rather know it than have it hidden.”
With a slow swipe of her fingers, she floated him into the guards’ hands. Once his feet were on the ground, they dragged him through the crowds and removed him from the party.
Jaleck made her way over, shaking her head. “Here, let me give you my contact information in case you need me. Vishlog is excellent when he is fighting. When he isn’t, he occasionally becomes a problem. I didn’t realize he was in the presentation squad this evening. Or that he thought booze and being an honor guard went well together.”
She held out her small tablet and the ambassador tapped it twice with hers to add her contact details. Despite her initial surprise, she didn’t really mind Vishlog’s behavior. He hadn’t been dangerous, merely obnoxious, and she’d dealt with that easily enough. “It really wasn’t a big deal. I’ve had to deal with idiocy by intoxication a few times.”
The Dreth chuckled. “As all women have. That’s why we stick together, even across species.”
A couple of Federation Navy high-level officers shuffled closer to the two women and pretended nonchalant conversation as they attempted to listen in. However, when Jaleck left shortly after, they approached Stephanie immediately and introduced themselves.
The one on the right shook her hand stoutly. “I am Admiral Burtch, and this is Vice Admiral Alexander. You know, with your skill and your spirit, you would be very useful to the Federation Navy. You could serve your home planet and keep saving lives as you seem to like doing.”
She smiled politely and noticed V’ritan standing behind them. He caught her glance and gave her a wink. She focused on Burtch and Alexander.
Speaking firmly, she made her answer clear. “As I’ve explained before, I don’t do well with being told what to do. So, while I have a choice, I don’t think the Navy is right for me, however much I respect the organization.”
A galaxy away, heads of the Federation military gathered in a board room on Star Base Notaro, while a young petty officer hurried to find the specialist on Meligorn Intelligence.
“Chief, they are ready to meet,” he said when he found Matthias Winthrop staring at the screen in the wardroom.
“Thank you.” Winthrop rose, tucked his hat under his arm, and set off for the meeting.
The military heads had already settled themselves around the table. He had been called in because of his specialty. The chief took a seat and one of the officers stood and activated a large holographic screen in front of them.
“Our partners in the royal household provided us with this,” he said by way of introduction and started the recording.
Together, they watched as the Truth Bringer drew information from the ex-head of the Royal Guard. It was a shock when the interrogator began to repeat the data out loud, relying on the recording equipment to catch it. Those gathered experienced even greater shock when both Meligornians suffered seizures.
The film stopped immediately after the guard died and the Truth Bringer fell to the floor.
The officer paused the presentation. “The Truth Bringer you see there suffered some kind of mental episode in which he suffered a sensory overload. They are not supposed to be connected when a Meligornian dies. All their memories, apparently, leave the body, and if there is a vessel touching, they will flood it. He is currently in a coma.”
He swiped his hand through the air to move to the next screen which displayed the information they had retrieved from the traitor before he died. “These are the snatches of information he acquired before the guard died. This is key because it is imperative that the Navy determines who we have close to the chapter of insurgents. We need to know where we stand and what we need to do to assist in the eradication of this menace. I have forwarded a copy of the information to your tablets, and I think it would be best if you paired off and began to run different hypotheses. This will be a long night.”
The chief stared at the names and numbers that appeared on his tablet’s screen and his sharp mind already discerned the code.
On the edge of the Meligorn capital, a Meligornian army captain and his team boarded their shuttle. Dressed in black powered armor and armed to the teeth, they flew swiftly to a drop point not far from Stremel, a large town a day’s drive from the capital.
Everyone was silent and ready. Their task was to hunt insurgents and the data said their targets would meet at a small bar on Stremel’s outskirts. After fifteen minutes’ flight time, the shuttle slowed.
The captain unstrapped and swirled his arm over his head to signal their arrival. Doors in the shuttle’s belly dropped open and each of the men caught a line and slid out. They landed carefully on the roof of a Meligornian bar and hoped the music inside was playing loudly enough to mask their arrival.
A block away, the second and third teams set down in empty lots nearby and worked their way toward the target. As quietly as they could, the first team slipped over the edge of the roof and onto the balcony that ran around the outside of the second floor. From there, they slid through the doors into the building and made their way down toward the bar.
Once in position, they waited for the other two teams to signal that they were ready. The confirmation came and the inside team kicked their way into the bar and immediately proceeded to a small booth tucked away in a corner. Before they could reach it, one of the men seated there saw them.
He put his drink down and stood, shuffled out around the table, and walked to the door. Four members of the team split off to intercept him while more Meligornians emerged from the booth.
These made absolutely no effort to leave quietly but simply bolted for whatever exit they could reach. The team separated into two groups to pursue them.
Movement erupted around the bar. Some patrons dived under tables and others scrambled to the door. The barman and waitstaff vanished through the entrance to the kitchen when someone fired a shot and all hell broke loose.
Laughter died even though the music continued to play. Drinks were abandoned and shattered as magic, energy bolts, and solid rounds missed their intended targets and wreaked collateral devastation.
Tables were overturned and chairs were thrown. Meals bounced and jostled under the impact of the shots fired, and shouts of alarm and anger filled the air.
Of those Meligornians who ran, most were caught by the teams waiting on the outside. The chaos was short-lived and order was restored as the bar’s patrons were brought back to the club.
When sullen silence reigned, the captain came to stand beside the other team’s leader. “We killed a few, and one of my team is receiving medical attention but probably won’t pull through.” His expression was bleak, but he finished firmly. “The targets are secured.”
The team leader nodded and spoke into his coms. “Bring in the TB.”
After a short silence, the sound of a military transport growled and rumbled closer. It was followed by the slam of a door and several footsteps, which ended when a robed Meligorn Mind Mage entered and approached the team leaders.
He looked around and addressed the captain. “They will remember one hell of a bar brawl involving a couple of human soldiers and some renegade Dreth. Wait for me outside.”
They signaled their men to follow them out, and the Truth Bringer went to work. When he emerged, he addressed the captain directly. “The military were never there. Take me home.”
Chapter Fifty
Todd and his team, dressed for battle, slunk through the back alleys and around the edges of corroded street corners. Together, they made their way to the objective. They had all seen some shitty towns in their time, but this one took the cake.
On this mission, they worked their way through the sleaze district of an outpost in the middle of nowhere. He maintained a constant lookout
for anyone or anything that might pose a threat to the team—or try to warn their target.
One of his teammates sneered as he stepped over a puddle of black liquid on the ground. “I feel like I’ll catch an incurable disease simply by breathing.”
“I’m fairly sure that even if we held our breath, two months from now, we would still all test positive for some crazy venereal disease,” he replied, as a couple concluded their hot and heavy business in an alcove. “We should all wear full rubber suits.”
“If you think this is bad, wait until you see the target.” One of the other guys chuckled. “I bet he is really pretty.”
He shivered and hefted his weapon as they moved quietly through the streets. Windows were locked shut and light leaked around drawn curtains and pulled shutters. The few people on the streets seemed to ignore or avoid them.
When the chief had told them today’s scenario involved a dirty job, they’d assumed it was merely a saying, not an actual dirty job. Nonetheless, they were so close to completing VR training that they were all ready to get down and dirty with the real thing.
“His name is Troy Murdock,” the chief had explained. “He used to be some good boy businessman until he became involved in the arms race. Now, while he might still wear a suit, this boy’s hands are covered in blood.”
He’d fixed them with a hard stare. “You’re to go in, download his current inventory and contacts, and take him out nice and quiet. He’ll be replaced by one of ours so we can net the rest of his buyers.
“But that is not your concern.” He moved his gaze from one to the next to make sure they understood. “You only need to remove him. He tends to hang out with a few thugs and on dirty hooker laps but at this hour, they’re not at their best.”
Witch Of The Federation (Federal Histories Book 2) Page 55