Warrior's Valor (40 page)

“Yes. M'Ekar, Weiss Kyakh, and the infamous Ms. Smith. I believe you tossed that woman into a wall,” Kellen said. “Well done.”

Ayahliss looked at them with a new light in her eyes. “Yes, I did. Let's do exactly what you just suggested. Reena's a great hostess.”

Rae wasn't sure she liked the glee with which Ayahliss spoke, and she noted also that she was entitled to use what had to be Judge Beqq's nickname. A lot had obviously happened in their absence.

“Are you coming? The food will get cold,” Ewan called. They took their seats in the dining room, and it warmed Rae's heart to witness Armeo and her father's happiness over their safe return.

Judge Beqq raised her glass and looked at all of them, one by one. “Here's to happy endings and new beginnings,” she said, toasting them. Everyone echoed her words, and Rae wondered if she was the only one to pick up on exactly how Amereena Beqq had gazed at Ayahliss when she spoke.

*

Weiss slowly opened her eyes, groaning because of the searing pain in her side. She had been slipping in and out of consciousness since the blast, and now she tried to determine where they'd taken her.

“You're awake. Good,” a throaty voice said from her right.

She turned her head slowly, daggers piercing her skull. “Who are you?”

A small woman with fiery red hair regarded her solemnly. “I'm Admiral Rae Jacelon. I believe you've met my mother.”

Shit.
“Yes. Charming woman.”

“She can be. Kidnapping her was probably the biggest mistake you've ever made, right after getting in bed with Hox M'Ekar.”

For a moment, Weiss thought the admiral meant what she said literally. “I can see why you would think so,” she muttered.

“Another mistake was teaming up with the lovely Ms. White.”

“Is she dead?”

“No. In fact, she's right here. In the bed on the other side of the alu-glass wall.”

Weiss opened her mouth to speak, but pain hit again, tearing through her side. She refused to show any signs of discomfort.

“If you had any idea what memories this situation brings back,” Jacelon said. “Nurse,” she continued, raising her voice. “Is it all right if I up her dosage of painkillers? She's in agony.”

“Sure, Admiral. Just press the sensor twice,” a male voice said from afar.

The admiral did as told, and after a few moments, Weiss could breathe again. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She looked up at the only woman who had ever chased her down. “Why are you here?”

“Because I've spoken to my mother, and she thinks there's more to you than meets the eye, in a manner of speaking.” Jacelon placed both hands on the bed railing, to which Weiss noticed her own hands were chained. “I'm not convinced, but my mother is seldom wrong.”

“You'd lock me up and throw away the key if you had your way, wouldn't you?” she snarled.

“That's one option.”

“What's stopping you?” She coughed, closing her eyes, furious at the tears of pain that rolled down her temples into her hair.

“My mother's conviction that there's hope for you. White will be transferred to a maximum-security prison while she awaits trial for her impressive list of crimes. She's had a knack for killing off her bosses, thus taking over their business, so you might want to count yourself lucky that we intervened.”

“I knew her reputation and had an eye on her,” she said huskily. Her head was spinning, perhaps from the upped dosage of the pain medication. She also might be trying too hard to make sense of Jacelon's words. She sensed that the admiral disliked her and wouldn't trust her for a second.

She tried to remember what she had done or said to make any sort of positive impression on Dahlia Jacelon. She was a wanted criminal, had teamed up with the archenemy, M'Ekar, and kidnapped a distinguished diplomat. Granted, she'd resisted White's demands to leave the injured M'Ekar behind, but that hardly warranted any feelings of forgiveness on Dahlia Jacelon's part. She groaned. This was too much. Such thoughts hurt her head. “So, what do you want from me? Why are you really here?”

Jacelon was silent for a moment, looking like she was debating whether to speak again. She tapped her fingertips against the bed rails, then glanced at the imbulizer pump. “Medication helping?”

“Yes. Thank you.” It hurt to thank this commanding woman who could have her locked up and make sure nobody remembered she ever existed.

“Good.” Jacelon towered over the bed, looking directly at her. Her eyes were an unusual shade of gray, bright and piercing. “I'm prepared to cut a deal with the SC Council, as well as with Judge Beqq, and have you transferred to a special facility.”

“What?” She shook her head. “I know I'm looking at many years in prison, but I want my day in court. You're not throwing me into any
facility
.”

“You don't understand.” Jacelon smiled joylessly. “I'm not talking about a facility within the penal system. I mean a training facility.”

Now she was sure she was too high on drugs. “What the hell are you talking about, Admiral?”

“You have two choices, as I see it.” Jacelon straightened and folded her arms over her chest. “Either you ‘have your day in court' and serve the rest of your life in prison, or you take the offer I make you while it's still on the table. If you do, we will transfer you to a covert SC facility. Once there, you'll start by recuperating and regaining your health. After that, you'll undergo a thorough mental and emotional evaluation. If you pass, you will attend extensive training and education classes.”

“Training? Trained to do what?”

“Become a covert operative for the SC.”

“You're kidding,” she exclaimed, the words gushing out. “You must be out of your mind.”

“I may be, but I trust my mother's judgment. She's seen qualities in you that I have yet to discover and has suggested this option.” Jacelon looked like she thought she never would see any redeeming qualities in her. “You have until tomorrow morning. The
Dalathea
embarks at 0900 hours and we need your decision by then, since a small medical shuttle would have to rendezvous with us once we've broken orbit, to transport you to your destination.”

Clutching her forehead, Weiss tried to think. Her life would be forever altered no matter what she decided. “I'll let you know before the ship embarks.”

“And if I find that you've discussed this with anyone, the deal's off.” Jacelon sounded cold and relentless, far more ominous than White.

“You have my word,” she said quietly.

“Time will tell how much that's worth. I'll come by tomorrow morning.” Jacelon turned and walked away.

Weiss's eyelids grew heavy. Her mind reeled with questions that she was now formulating, but she couldn't stay awake and focus on them. It really didn't matter. Relaxing into drug-induced sleep, she already knew what her answer would be.

Dwyn stared at Emeron. She had never been so taken aback or seen anything so beautiful. “Emeron,” she gasped.

“Yes. Eh...it was my grandmother's.” She gestured at the outfit, looking embarrassed. “I meant to throw it away so many times, but kept it in a box hidden deep inside my closet. It was hers, Briijn's, when she was young. She married my other grandmother in it, so I simply couldn't discard it. I suppose I needed
something
that represented my heritage, no matter how disdainful or conflicted I was.” She smiled uncertainly.

“I chose it since I'm not going to meet these ministers in my role as a commander of military law enforcement, but as a representative of the Disians.”

“The Disian Nation,” Dwyn corrected. She hardly recognized her lover.
My lover
. Emeron wore a long, golden straight skirt, with deep blue metal threads interwoven in the fabric. Under a gold mesh short jacket, woven in elaborate patterns, an intricately cut blue shirt left her waist bare. Only a golden chain with a multitude of charms covered it.

Emeron held out the headpiece that went with the outfit. “Help me with this? It's supposed to sit perfectly straight.” The same type of gold mesh as the jacket hung from the back of the blue, triangular headpiece. Emeron sat down on a chair in her simple living room, and Dwyn placed the hat on her head. The mesh that reached to the small of Emeron's back reminded her of an old-fashioned wedding veil.

“You look fantastic. Incredibly beautiful. I don't have words to describe you.”

“Thank you.” Emeron looked at her in the mirror and took a deep breath. “And you look very different. Beautiful, always, but the way you've put up your hair makes you look regal, maitele. It's like a crown.”

“Really?” She felt the braids twisted high on the top of her head.

“You're glowing.”

Her cheeks warmed at Emeron's tender scrutiny. “And you're radiant.”

Emeron smiled. “Well, why don't we go meet the ministers? They must have something very urgent to tell me.”

“Then we should hurry.” She pulled Emeron to her feet, then wrapped her arms around her neck. “Wait. Just one kiss.”

Emeron smiled, the first full, broad, and happy smile she had ever given her. She returned the smile, knowing that no matter what happened at the ministry, she would stand by Emeron's side in the battle for the Thousand Year Pact.

*

The large, rectangular room featured a long table where ten ministers sat, all facing the door that Emeron had just stepped inside with Dwyn. The ministers rose and Emeron recognized the Minister of Domestic Affairs, Garon Nerposs, who bowed politely.

“Welcome, Emeron D'Artansis of the Disian Nation,” he began ceremoniously. “As one of the few of Disian descendants living and working outside the Disi-Disi forest, you have been selected as liaison. We regret the lack of communication between our two people for many years.”

“Thank you.” She bowed discreetly, surprised at how calm she felt even though she was the center of attention. Dwyn's presence next to her wrapped her in a blanket of complete loyalty and affection and helped her find her footing among these dignitaries. “I am still at a loss, ladies and gentlemen. Has any representative contacted my grandmother's people and asked if they
want
to communicate via a liaison? Or have you merely assumed this?”

Minister Nerposs looked taken aback. “But, Ms...eh, Commander D'Artansis, why wouldn't they? They need to have someone speak for them and look after their interests.”

“If that's what you're after, you should give a couple of them seats in the parliament.”

“Unheard of,” another minister said.

“So is this meeting,” Emeron responded. “I am ready to hear your motives for appointing me as representative for my own people, and I will relay anything you have to say to the Disians. If they choose to further communicate with the Cormanian government, and if they want me to speak for them, I will gladly serve as liaison.”

Garon Nerposs cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Well, Commander D'Artansis, we have summoned you here today because of the unfortunate events that took place during Ms. Izontro's assignment in the Disi-Disi forest.” He looked around him, and the other ministers nodded solemnly. “My department secretary and spokesperson has stepped down from her position as a result of a preliminary investigation. She is suspected of having shared classified government details with nationwide companies wishing to exploit the forest. She has also used the parliament stamps to covertly approve illegal exploitation and thus facilitated preliminary underground work that reaches beyond the borders established by the Thousand Year Pact.”

“One woman did this?” Emeron knew her disbelief was obvious.

“No, of course not. She was a pawn in a vast collaboration among conglomerates, many of them funded by off-world interests.”

“So, she was the gate in and you didn't know anything?” Emeron didn't believe this for a minute. A handful of people couldn't possibly pull off such a complicated operation. The department secretary was most likely the scapegoat, paid to take the fall for people higher up. She was furious, and one glance at Dwyn confirmed that she was too. “What do you suggest we do about the damage that has already been done?” she asked, as she willed herself to calm down.

“Restoration is already the first topic on the department's agenda.” Garon Nerposs smiled with practiced reassurance. “We won't rest until confidence in the pact is restored.”

Dwyn crossed her arms and looked angrily at the ministers as she spoke. “And the conglomerates? What punishment will they receive?”

“They will of course be fined.”

“Fined,” Dwyn spat. “They could probably buy and sell Corma twice over. You need to incarcerate the guilty as an example of what happens when companies attempt to kill an entire planet and its inhabitants.”

“Please, Ms. Izontro, going down that road is hardly constructive.” Garon Nerposs frowned. “We cannot disrupt the Cormanian economy because of this incident. That will benefit nobody.”