Warrior's Valor Page 9

  Mogghy shrugged helplessly and pointed in Emeron’s direction. The woman turned around and paused briefly. She held the child and merely looked Emeron up and down. Dwyn had no idea what the wordless exchange could mean.

  Emeron bowed marginally, a mere dip of her head, and took off her mask. “Ylams, herona Pri. Hordos avasti.” She gestured toward Dwyn and the rest of her team. “Megos foshme, deos avasti.”

  Staring at Emeron, Dwyn realized that she had spoken to the old woman in Disianii. It didn’t make any sense, and everyone else in the unit except Mogghy stared at Emeron as if she’d just fallen from the sky.

  The old woman nodded slowly and replied in flawless Premoni, the official language of the SC. “Imer-Ohon-Da. It has been too long. And now you return when mayhem has struck us.”

  “Pri. Yes, it’s been a long time. I’m here to help. Show us the crash site, please.”

  “Nobody is left to save.”

  Emeron shifted and her body tensed. “Nobody? Everyone on the ship died instantly?”

  Pri shook her head and hoisted the child farther up. She looked tired, and without thinking, Dwyn reached for the child. Growing up in a collective had ensured she was not only used to dealing with children, but also prepared to pitch in whenever needed. The little girl looked at her with huge black eyes, but allowed herself to be lifted by a stranger. Dwyn hugged the little one, tucking her in under her chin.

  “Thank you. She was becoming heavy,” Pri said.

  “I’m happy to help.” Dwyn motioned with her chin toward the origin of the smoke. “How long ago was the crash?”

  “Dear child, our concept of time would mean nothing to you. Enough time for us to count our dead and wounded. That is all I can say.”

  Dwyn didn’t know how to reply and was grateful when Pri refocused on Emeron.

  “To answer your question, Imer-Ohon-Da, no, everyone did not die. Some of them walked through our streets on foot, carrying weapons and firing at the ones trying to put out the fires. They dragged some of their wounded along. Still, I suppose they could have left dead comrades inside the ship. They appeared to be without honor, and it is likely they would not care to tend to the dead.”

  “Do you remember how many of them? In what direction—Pri.” Pri swayed, and Emeron managed to grab her before she slumped to the ground. “You are exhausted. Direct us to someone we can help organize a search-and-rescue unit.”

  “Amiri. Over there,” Pri said, and pointed at a woman striding toward them. “We have elected her to succeed me as our speaker.”

  “Does she speak Premoni?” Emeron asked.

  “Yes.”

  A man and a woman arrived, and the man placed his arms around Pri, helping her stand. They looked at Emeron with curious eyes, but didn’t say anything.

  “Are you the reason this has happened to our village?” Amiri stood before them, hands on her hips. Her black hair lay in unruly tresses around her shoulders, and her anger and frustration were evident in her voice.

  “No. We were in the forest on an assignment, abiding by the pact, when my superior officer issued an order for us to pursue a fugitive and his mercenaries.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Amiri was obviously not impressed.

  “Pri can vouch for me.”

  This statement seemed to get through to Amiri, who blinked a few times and looked at the old woman, who was now sitting on a crate a few steps away. “Pri?”

  “Yes, Amiri. You can trust her. She is one of us.”

  Dwyn had begun to suspect Emeron and the Disians were connected, which made her animosity toward this place and its people even more intriguing.

  “Very well.” Amiri motioned for them to follow her. “This way. The vessel crashed into several homes down this street.”

  Dwyn had almost forgotten that she was carrying the little girl and let go of her only when a man approached, nodding for her to pass the child to him. She followed the rest of the team, grateful for the mask. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like for the Disians, who apparently didn’t own, or use, such equipment.

  The farther they went, the harder her heart hammered at the sight of the burned homes. Disians were still digging through what remained of the wooden houses, and the sight was so tragic, she had to swallow bitter tears and force herself to keep walking.

  “This is as far as I can go, without breathing protection,” Amiri said, and stopped, coughing. “We have attempted to recover our dead, but some of them are merely ashes.” Sorrow and fury were etched on her strong features. “If you are one of us, you know how this desecrates our beliefs. We need to clean and bury our dead the first night. Their souls will roam and not—”

  “Yes. I know all about your beliefs,” Emeron said with disdain, then turned to her unit. “All right, people. As gruesome and tragic as this is, we have to go in. I want Noor and two more to go back with Amiri, to help with the wounded. The Disians are skilled at internal medicine, but since we brought our med kits, we’re better with trauma. Dwyn, I want you to go with Noor—”

  “No. I go where you go. If there’s a toxic spill, I know more than you ever will about how to deal with it.” She didn’t wait for a response but handed over her medical equipment to Noor. She thought she glimpsed admiration in the stern ensign’s eyes. “Good luck,” she murmured.

  “You too.”

  “All right. But stay close.” Emeron’s tone made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.

  They slowly advanced down the street, and Dwyn pressed her mask tighter to her face. She had seen some terrible things in her life, but this was one of the worst. She walked next to Emeron, unwilling to show any weakness. Emeron needed her expertise whether she realized it or not.

  The nearer they got to what Emeron called ground zero, the less there was left of the structures. “It’s miraculous anyone in the spaceship survived, if the crash site looks like this,” she murmured.

  Emeron shook her head. “We don’t know what kind of ship it was. If it had the latest dampeners and crash-stabilizers, who knows? Make sure your weapon is easily accessible.”

  “All right.”

  Two large trees lay across the street, and Dwyn climbed over them, the massive trunks almost as tall as she. She slid over the second one, her heart pounding so hard she felt the pulsations all the way from her chest to her temples. Glowing, smoking debris lay everywhere, and she saw no traces of any Disians on this side of the tree trunks.

  “Over there.” Emeron pointed to their left. “It looks intact, though charred.”

  The space vessel was far larger than the shuttle-size ship she had envisioned, at least eighty meters long and perhaps twenty-five meters tall. It had ploughed through several houses and now rested against a dense grove of trees where it lay slightly askew, the half-open hatch on its belly clearly visible.

  “It’s a state-of-the-art cruiser, ma’am,” Mogghy said, and pulled out his scanner. “Its hull is outfitted with mirror-ceramic alloy, which makes it hard to trace via long-distance scanners. No wonder the SC had problems finding it.”

  “But that’s used only on prototypes.” Emeron frowned.

  “And for good reason,” Dwyn added. “The composite used to attach the mirror-ceramic is highly poisonous. The facility where it’s manufactured and used has to be extremely cautious, which makes it almost impossible to get permission to produce it.”

  “But when you’re operating outside the law and under the radar, it’s not undoable.” Mogghy moved in and Emeron followed suit. Dwyn stayed behind them as the rest of the unit fanned out on either side of her.

  “These criminals must be well connected,” Dwyn said, out of breath as she tried to keep up with the others’ longer strides. “If they can outfit their ship like this, undetected, there must be quite a covert operation going on.”

  “Probably on some of the pirate-infested asteroids. Who knows what they have buried inside them,” Emeron said. “It’s their latest scheme. They pretend
to have a legit mining company and work the asteroids, and what do you know—a weapons storage facility or a place to modify illegal ships.”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me if this ship is tachyon-mass-drive capable.” Mogghy frowned as they had to stop. The heat was unbearable at this distance, and Dwyn wondered how the people on board this ship had managed to get away.

  “Tachyon-mass drives are illegal as well,” she said. In fact, the propulsion in question made it possible for the vessel to travel at an unfathomable speed through space. The drives, however, polluted space in irreparable ways, which had caused the SC to ban them.

  “Bet that’s at the top of Aequitas’s list of things to keep track of,” Emeron said, crouching as she tried to get closer to the ship. “Damn it, this is too hot. If we go any farther our suits will be burned off our backs.”

  “Is there any way to contain the damage to this area?” Oches asked as he joined them.

  “It’s fairly contained. The Disians must have cut down those trees to create a barrier of sorts.” Emeron surveyed the area. “Until the ship cools off, we can’t investigate it. We should go back to the center of the village and see what we can find out from witnesses, and also help where we can.”

  “Shouldn’t we go after the culprits who did this?” Mogghy gestured toward the ship. “They could be a long way from here by now.”

  Emeron smiled joylessly. “I don’t think so. You noticed how much slower we traveled compared to normal circumstances? They’re wounded, or at least some of them have to be. They’re not moving fast, and they’re not used to this forest.”

  “And they’ll leave traces all over the place,” Dwyn said. “I agree. We should stay here for the night.”

  Emeron looked surprised, which Dwyn found puzzling. Perhaps because they usually argued?

  “Agreed, then. Noor and the others should have assessed the situation in the village by now, so let’s join them. Oches, we better communicate with headquarters and report our findings.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  Dwyn was so tired when they began to walk back, she was afraid she might not be able to climb the tree trunks. She pulled herself up, but slipped twice. She was about to fail a third time when Emeron extended a strong hand and hauled her up. Trembling now, she slipped twice more trying to climb the second tree trunk and clenched her teeth in annoyance at this sign of weakness. She dug deep and found the strength to grasp Emeron’s hands and managed to stand. Tree sap made the logs slippery and she clung to Emeron, who wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Easy now. I’ve got you.”

  As they slid down on the opposite side, she found herself pressed against Emeron’s chest. They stood together as Dwyn got her bearings, her heart hammering again, this time because of how Emeron felt against her. Confused, and more intimidated than she cared to admit, she realized Emeron was moving her hand in tiny circles at the small of her back. Her normally stark expression had softened, and her mouth was relaxed with slightly parted lips.

  “I’m fine,” Dwyn croaked. “We…eh, we should go?”

  Emeron let go of her as quickly as if she’d burned her hands. “Of course.” She cleared her voice, her dark eyes shuttering her emotions. “Let’s hurry, people. We’ve still got a job to do.”

  Dwyn gathered the last of her energy, knowing that the Disians were much worse off than she was right now. She tried not to think about the way her body had responded to Emeron. It had been so much more than a physical reaction. For a moment, she had looked into Emeron’s eyes and experienced something entirely new.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dahlia coughed. Her lungs stung, and she knew she had suffered smoke-inhalation damage. She wasn’t the most injured, though. Several of the gang of mercenaries had died on impact. Only the fact that she was kept locked in tiny quarters in the center of the ship’s belly had prevented her from being seriously burned.

  The forest was thick around them as she, M’Ekar, and the sixteen mercenaries struggled through the undergrowth. There had probably been a path here once, but it was overgrown with vines and tall grass, slowing them down.

  M’Ekar had complained from the beginning, insisting they follow one of the wider paths leading out of the village they’d left behind more than a day ago. The leader, unscathed and quite impressive, hadn’t paid much attention to the former dignitary’s whining. Dahlia had tried to listen for names or anything that might define this group and reveal their plans.

  “Halt,” the female leader suddenly barked. “Our fearless ambassador needs more painkillers. “Ms. White. Bring the med kit.”

  “We can’t waste all of them on him, Captain.” White moved with such silent grace that Dahlia couldn’t hear the rustle of the undergrowth as she neared the makeshift stretcher bearing M’Ekar. “He’s slowing us down.”

  “He’s also the reason we’re getting paid.” The leader nodded toward Dahlia. “So is she. All we have to do is get to a clearing big enough for the Viper II to land, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “I still say we leave him behind and give them her.” The blond woman dug around in the black bag containing the medication. She haphazardly gave M’Ekar a shot of something and the tall, rigid body of Dahlia’s enemy slowly relaxed.

  “I may be wounded, but I’m not dead,” M’Ekar said. “If you don’t deliver me to the ship waiting for me by the Onotharian border, you won’t get any reward whatsoever.”

  “Enough bickering,” the leader said, and motioned for everyone to get to their feet. “Time to continue. This forest is protected from interference from the outside world. But for her sake,” she pointed at Dahlia, “I’m sure they’re prepared to make an exception.”

  “We’ve been on our feet all day,” White groused. “I say we make camp.”

  “We will. After we put more distance between that village and our position.”

  “You’re being overcautious.” White grimaced, but took up the rear as the man in charge of guarding Dahlia nudged her. “Move.”

  Dahlia counted the remaining ambulatory mercenaries again. Sixteen. They carried two on stretchers, M’Ekar and a young woman who hadn’t spoken or shifted once since they hurried through the village. Two men limped between their shipmates, hanging onto them as they became increasingly pale.

  “All right,” she muttered to her guard and rose. Her right hip ached, as if it had been pulled out of its socket and shoved back in again. Guess I’m not seventeen anymore. Settling in behind the man carrying the foot of M’Ekar’s stretcher, she continued to do what she’d done ever since they left the Disian village. She stealthily broke a twig here and there, when she was sure her guard wasn’t paying attention. She let tiny pieces of her Iminestrian ymlertite bracelet fall to the ground. If anyone scanned the area, the non-indigenous material would make their sensors scream.

  “You. You look annoyingly intact, Madame.” M’Ekar’s scornful voice broke her out of her reverie.

  “Justice comes in many ways. You should try to learn from that fact.” She saw with satisfaction that M’Ekar’s blood pressure rose, indicated by his color change from an olive tint to a dark purple.

  “Bitch,” he managed, and tried to rise, causing the men carrying his stretcher to nearly buckle under their burden. “You self-righteous—”

  “Lie still, Ambassador,” the mercenary leader hissed, and strode up to him. “If you want to survive this, you shouldn’t let her goad you.”

  M’Ekar coughed and slumped back. “Weiss, you better put her in shackles. She’s planning something. Don’t take your eyes off her.”

  “I won’t. What do you think I am? A novice? And if I put her in shackles, she’d only slow us down more.”

  “Weiss? So that’s your name?” Dahlia hid the bracelet in her hand. “We haven’t been formally introduced.”

  Weiss looked at her with an expression of reluctant admiration and exasperation. “The idea of such silliness didn’t even occur to me.”

  “No, I would
imagine that niceties like that are redundant when you deal in murder and kidnapping.” Dahlia fought to remain calm. “I wonder how you sleep at night after firing against innocent children.”

  “Innocent? Are you talking about that wildcat at the Keliera station? It took some effort to calm her down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, I guess you couldn’t see when my friend back there, Ms. White, took a shot at her. She was furious to have a kid defeat her. Nobody ever beats her at hand-to-hand combat.”

  Dahlia nearly stumbled, but managed to conceal her reaction. “No, I didn’t realize Ayahliss was hit.” She swallowed hard. “So, you actually do shoot children.”

  “Personally, it’s not my method of operation, but White…well, White is another matter. She’s a special sort. Handy in a pinch.” Weiss shoved Dahlia’s side. “Keep walking.”

  “Don’t touch me.” Dahlia spoke quietly, furious at the other woman’s callousness.

  “Or what?” Weiss asked, feigning horror. “Should I be scared now?”

  “Yes. If you’re half as clever as you think you are, you ought to be. If you don’t harm me, or even touch me, you may live through this. People are already looking for me, whose dedication you cannot even begin to fathom.”

  “Oh, you have no idea what kind of people I’ve been up against.” Weiss smiled, but her lips looked stiff.

  “No, perhaps not. But you haven’t come across anyone like Kellen O’Dal, Protector of the Realm. Nor her wife, who happens to be my daughter. Or my husband. Any of them is formidable and together...” She paused to emphasize her threat.

  “You’re good. A good diplomat who knows how to use words.” Weiss shrugged. “That’s all they are. Words. Whoever may or may not come after you will be too late. If you don’t think I have backup plans, several, you’re completely mistaken.”

  “Oh, I do.” Dahlia smiled easily. “But, just so you know, such plans are futile.” She could tell that her persistence was wearing on Weiss, even if she was acting casual and confident.