Briefing room
M’kou had just finished his presentation of up-to-date intel from the Prime system when suddenly Kusac was aware of Kaid’s presence at the edges of his mental shielding—extremely distant, to be sure, but unmistakably him. He rose to his feet so abruptly that the chair fell over behind him, drawing everyone’s eyes to him.
“Is something wrong, Captain?” asked Kezule.
“No,” he said, ignoring the fallen chair and limping toward the exit. “I need some air, that’s all.” His hand was on the opening plate just as the buzz indicating an incoming transmission sounded. As the door slid shut behind him, he heard Shezhul telling the General it was Kaid Tallinu.
Giving Kusac’s retreating back a curious glance, Kezule said, “Route it through to here, please.” Had Kusac known the call was coming, he wondered, and if so, why had he left so abruptly? He’d no more time for speculation as he turned round to face the large comm screen behind him.
After carefully polite greetings had been exchanged, Kezule introduced him to those present, pausing briefly when he came to Banner. The tan-colored Sholan on the screen merely nodded his recognition.
“I’m glad you called,” Kezule said. “We have another matter that will shortly need our attention. Ch’almuth, the remaining Valtegan world, has been raided by the M’zullians every five years for breeding stock. This time, they asked for our help. Since there is no way I have the resources needed to take on M’zull, I was reluctant to do anything that would result in further action against the peaceful Ch’almuthians. We ambushed their craft when it landed, overpowered the M’zullians on board, and after rigging it to look as though some natural catastrophe had affected them in jump space, sent the ship back.”
Kaid raised an appreciative eye ridge. “Very resourceful,” he murmured. “However, they will return.”
“Yes. By my reckoning we have four to five weeks before they do. By then, we need to have found a more permanent solution, or at least send them back knowing that the cost of returning will be too great.”
“Has Ch’almuth no defenses of its own? It seems unlikely that even the Valtegan agricultural world wouldn’t be protected.”
“They have an Orbital, and it was capable of defending them, but it’s no longer in working order. It’s beyond the ability of my engineers to repair, I’m afraid. We were able to patch up their weather control system so the ground control center could communicate with it again. They also now have access to two cruisers that we found berthed there. They are operational but badly needed repairs to the weapons systems. They’re lending them to us for the time being.”
While he spoke, Kezule noticed Kaid glance off to the side, one ear swiveling in that direction before it flicked in agreement.
“We may be able to help you,” said Kaid as a hirsute, garish being joined him in the comm screen. “This is Toueesut, of the Touibans. We’re on one of their ships right now, the
Couana
. As you may know, they are the Alliance tech specialists.”
“Greetings, General Kezule. A pleasure it is to be meeting with you,” the small alien trilled in his singsong voice.
Fascinated, Kezule studied him. He’d never had the opportunity to see a Touiban before. Humanoid in appearance, they had only a passing likeness to the Human males he’d seen. Dark, almost unkempt hair sprouted from the being’s head above the deeply socketed eyes and grew beneath the flanged nose. The mustache was so mobile that it resembled a hairy caterpillar. What Kezule could see of his jacket was an intense blue, but it was almost completely covered in gold braid and intricate swirls of embroidery. Around his neck he wore dozens of gold chains, and his hands, when they came into view, were equally laden with rings in the same metal. This was the species Kusac had mentioned. How had he known Kaid was with them?
He realized that the Touiban had been speaking again and tore his attention back to what the small alien was saying.
“I do apologize,” he began, feeling the blood rushing to his face in embarrassment before he could stop it.
“No matter, General. I was merely saying that we can be dispatching a small team to your Ch’almuth world to work on both the Orbital and the ships,” said Toueesut with a large smile. “Hoping I am that my people are far more closely linked to yourself and the Prime world in the future.”
“Thank you,” he said. “The ships, however, arrived here a few hours ago.”
“Then we will be working on them here; it’s no matter to us. I will leave you now to continue your discussion with friend Kaid. When we arrive, we will be needing one or two of your people to come with us to Ch’almuth as we would not wish to earn their distrust by arriving without faces they are recognizing.”
Taken aback by the continuous flow of words, Kezule blinked and managed a weak “Thank you,” before Toueesut disappeared.
Kaid’s grin of amusement at his discomfort over the Touiban was almost feral in its enjoyment, but he ignored it.
“I wouldn’t worry; they affect everyone that way the first time,” the Sholan said, with a purr of amusement the whole room could hear.
“Their aid will be very welcome,” said Kezule stiffly. “If you can get their Orbital working, the Ch’almuthians are capable of defending themselves with that and the two cruisers. Their early-warning system is working so they do have at least one week’s notice of any ships arriving in their system.”
“You got my message on what young Zsurtul has done, didn’t you?” Kaid asked abruptly, changing the topic.
“Yes. This six-weeks grace will be extremely useful—though we can’t afford to wait that long before striking. Our new Emperor is more resourceful than I expected.” Kezule emphasized the word Emperor.
“Agreed. Have you any intel on the City of Light defenses? Plans of the system would be extremely useful.”
“I’ll have them transmitted immediately,” said Kezule. “The mission will be led by myself and Captain Aldatan jointly. I suggest that you hold your own briefing, then call me tomorrow at the same time and we can have a joint discussion.”
“I don’t think ...”
Kezule held up his hand. “I’ve already been through this with Commander Rhyaz. He’s agreed that his people will work under myself and Captain Aldatan.”
Kaid hesitated briefly. “Talking of Kusac, I don’t see him there. I’d like to talk to him.”
“The Captain stepped out of the room just before you called,” said Kezule blandly. “He’s not available right now, but I will pass on your message and ask him to contact you as soon as he can.” Seeing the other’s frown, he added, “Lieutenant Banner is here and can pass the message on to your ...” Here he hesitated, unsure of the complex relationships between Kusac, Kaid, and Carrie “. . . partner,” he said finally.
“I’ll tell the Captain,” Banner confirmed. “You just missed him, sir, as the General said.”
Kaid gave a brief nod of acceptance. “I’d also like the opportunity to speak to the Lieutenant privately when we’re finished here.”
“Of course. M’kou will show him to our comms room when we’re done. Meanwhile, Commander Rhyaz informed me that our Prince has been staying on your estate. I need to talk to him.”
“That’s not possible, I’m afraid,” said Kaid regretfully. “We’re unable to contact our home from the
Couana
.”
“I need to talk to him,” insisted Kezule. “He is the Emperor-elect. He must be crowned on the Throne of Light or his ascension is meaningless to the Primes. For that, he’ll have to leave Shola and come here. Whatever you think of me, I’m probably the only adviser to his late father who’s still alive. Burn it, Kaid, if I wanted the Throne, I could have let that first coup go ahead or just taken the damned Throne for myself now! I have more of a claim to it than either of them!”
Kaid’s eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded once. “I’ll see what can be done,” he said.
“You Sholans were born suspicious,” Kezule muttered, sitting back in his chair. “I’m done for now, Kaid. M’kou will take the Lieutenant to the comm room, we’ll talk again at this time tomorrow. Transfer the call there, Shezhul,” he said to his daughter.
Kusac, meanwhile, had gone across the corridor to the lab beyond the sick bay to see Zayshul.
“There’s nothing wrong, is there?” she asked anxiously, turning round as he came in.
“No, I needed a break, that’s all. Kezule’s taking a call from Kaid, and I’m not ready to speak to him yet,” he said, leaning against her bench.
The rainbow-hued skin around her eye sockets creased. “Why?”
“Many reasons, not least that when I left, I made sure matters between us were less than friendly so he wouldn’t be tempted to follow me.”
“Surely now he’ll understand why,” she said.
He shrugged his shoulders. “We need to talk properly tonight. Can you get away?”
“Of course.” She hesitated, looking away from him, the light reflecting off her slightly textured pale green scalp. “Tell me about the knife wound you got from Dzaou during your Challenge fight,” she said, lowering her voice.
“I told you at the time, it was shallow, just a slice,” he said evasively.
“You know it wasn’t. It was a stab wound, up near your armpit. I got a better look at it than you did, because of the angle. Yet when I came to stitch it, it had almost healed. We need to talk about that.”
He shivered slightly, as if cold fingers were trailing down his spine, like a premonition, and suddenly knew he had to leave. “Later, then. In my suite. I’ll ask Jayza or Banner to take Shaidan for an hour or so.”
She nodded. “We should take the time together anyway because of the scent marker. I want to find out why it hasn’t been affecting you the way it did when you were away on the trip to Ch’almuth.”
Inwardly he cursed, but he reached out to touch her cheek with gentle fingertips.
“It’s still there, I’ve just gotten better at controlling it,” he said. If what he’d come to suspect in the last few hours since his fight to the death with Dzaou was true, there was no way he could tell her right now that he’d actually turned off the effects of her scent marker. One person who might know what had been done to him, and why, was K’hedduk, and now he was within reach.
The shiver swept through him again, diverting his attention. “Is it just me, or is it a little colder in here than usual?” he asked.
“I noticed it too,” she agreed, leaning forward for her comm unit. “This is Doctor Zayshul in the Command Level lab. Would you check the heating in here, please? I think it may be faulty—it’s getting cold.”
“Will do, Doctor,” came Zhalmo’s voice.
“I hope everything is all right,” she said, frowning.
“I’m sure it is,” Kusac said, reaching out to smooth the skin on the top of her nose. That was where the first hint of the blues and purples that surrounded her eyes began, he found himself noticing. With a start, he drew back, mentally shaking himself. He shouldn’t be thinking like this about her! He’d damped down his response to her scent, so what was making him behave like this?
“Nothing wrong with the temperature,” Zhalmo’s voice said from the hand comm. “I’m having the engineers check it out, though, just in case.”
“Thanks,” Zayshul said, switching the palm-sized unit off and putting it back on her bench.
“I have to go,” he said abruptly, shivering again as vague memories of the nightmares of frozen wastes that he’d had the last few nights returned to him. “The meeting is about to start again. I’ll be in my quarters after third meal.”
“See you then,” she agreed as he turned to leave.
Banner followed M’kou into the comm office with mixed feelings. Kaid was one of the very few people who’d earned more than his respect; he’d earned his allegiance. When he’d been asked, all those months ago, to keep an eye on Kusac during his recuperation after the ill-fated Jalna mission, his loyalties had been clear-cut. Now, six months down the line serving as Kusac’s Second, they weren’t.
“Strange how easy it is to slip into habits, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” M’kou said, going over to the desk and keying the inset controls to bring the comm screen mounted on the right hand wall to life. “So many of those we follow today, on both the military and civilian sides, are due to Captain Aldatan.”
Banner grunted noncommittally, waiting for the General’s son to finish.
“Our people, all of them, even the Ch’almuthians, trust and respect him, you know. They like continuity. I believe continuity, especially in command, is vital.”
Now M’kou had his full attention.
“Considering what we’ve all been through,” continued the young Prime, “I believe it would be—unfortunate—if anything was said that might cast doubt on the Captain’s ability to lead the mission to retake the Palace of Light with the General.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Banner demanded, a low rumble of anger underscoring his words. “Are you threatening me?”
M’kou looked genuinely shocked. “Far from it! I’m only trying to tell you how much faith and trust we have in you and your Captain.”
“Trust! That’s an alien concept to some of you.” Banner bared his teeth in an almost silent snarl, taking a step closer to him. “I haven’t forgotten the part you played in drugging our Captain and procuring a female ...”
“Lieutenant,” M’kou interrupted, coming out from behind the desk. “Doctor Zayshul has said more about this than you ever could. And when she was done yelling at the General and myself, she exacted a revenge on us I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.” He shuddered, obviously at the memory. “I have also apologized to your Captain, and we’ve made our peace with each other.”
Taken aback at this outpouring, Banner looked skeptically at the younger male.
“What did she do?”
“That needn’t concern you,” M’kou replied, his pale green skin darkening in obvious embarrassment. “The whole incident, from start to finish, was contained. Only those directly involved—and you yourselves—are aware that anything happened, and none of them will ever discuss it. It’s obvious you’re about to give your report on your time here to the Captain’s family and that it will, most likely, affect whether or not there is Sholan resistance to Captain Aldatan’s leadership. I’m only asking that he not be deprived of the position he’s earned because of his recent actions. Especially because our people trust him.”