Ardor's Leveche (2 page)

“Yes, Sir, you did!!” Ardor agreed. She knew better than to make an excuse for her lack of alacrity. “Do you want me to close the—”

“I want you to shut up and let me talk!” the general cut her off.

Snapping to attention in front of the general’s desk, Ardor locked her eyes on a point somewhere above his shock of thick white hair.

“Are you a virgin, Kahn?” General Alphon Morrison demanded.

Ardor flinched and her gaze slid down to the narrowed eyes of her commanding officer. “Sir, no, Sir,” she said, stunned by his question.

“You are—” the general looked down at a file on his desk “—twenty-five?”

8

Ardor’s Leveche

“Twenty-eight, Sir!” she answered, hearing the blood rushing through her ears.

“Do you have a steady lover?”

“Sir, not exactly, Sir!” Ardor answered, swallowing to keep the bile from speeding up her throat.

The general’s eyes narrowed even more. “Why the hell not?”

Opening and closing her mouth as though she was a fish out of water, Ardor had no idea how to answer such a question. Dumbfounded by the direction the questions had taken, she stood there unable to speak.

“You’re not one of those females who screw their own kind are you?”

A deep blush spread over Ardor’s face and it was all she could do to shake her head.

“You’re not a man-hater, are you?”

“Sir!” Ardor protested, wishing the floor would open up and let her drop through.

“No, Sir!”

“Neff won’t be returning to the Service,” the general said, changing the subject in such a whiplash way Ardor let out a harsh explosion of breath. “I’m not happy about that—damned pissed if you want the truth of it—but that was her decision. She’s got a bun in the oven so she’s of little use to me right now anyway.”

Miriam appeared in the doorway, drawing the general’s attention away from Ardor.

“Yes, Miriam?” General Morrison said in a soft, gentle voice.

“Colonel Bowen is here, Sir,” the secretary informed him.

Ardor groaned inwardly. Her day just seemed to be getting worse.

“Send him in and then why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”

Miriam lifted her chin. “I’d rather not if you don’t mind, Sir. I have quite a bit of work left.”

Ardor watched the old man striving to keep his face expressionless, his eyes calm.

“Whatever you want is fine with me,” the general responded.

“Thank you for understanding, Sir,” Miriam said and then stepped aside to usher in the Head of Fleet Command.”

General Morrison exhaled slowly as Colonel Bowen entered the office and firmly shut the door behind him. He ran a hand over his face and leaned back in the chair.

“She seems to be a bit better today,” Bowen said.

“Still working far too hard,” the general complained.

“We each handle our sorrow in our own way,” Bowen declared.

“I suppose so,” the general said. “You know Captain Kahn?”

Bowen nodded at his subordinate. “I pinned on her silver and gold anchors, didn’t I, Kahn?” he inquired.

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“Yes, Sir, you did,” Ardor answered, keeping her gaze straight ahead.

“Now I get to pin on the pretty copper ones,” Bowen announced.

Ardor’s eyes widened and her head snapped around as though jerked by a tether.

“Sir?” she asked, staring at the colonel.

“Eyes front and center, Kahn!” the general shouted.

Ardor hastened to do as she was ordered, her back ramrod straight and her arms rigidly at her sides.

The general motioned Bowen to take a seat. “We’ll get around to promoting the insolent little chit later. Have you received any news on those rebel forces this morning?”

Bowen smiled then turned his full attention to the general. “We know they are somewhere near Dasiter but we haven’t been able to find out how many or what the hell they’re doing there. They aren’t attacking any of our ships and that’s a damned puzzle.”

“What about who’s leading them?” General Morrison inquired.

“Apparently there are two commanders. One leads the rebel forces and the other seems to be doing his own thing. Our sources say that man is called Lord Savidos.”

Bowen scratched his jaw. “We can’t find out anything about him but rumor has it that at one time he might have been King Alejandro’s right-hand man, perhaps even a family member.”

“May have been?”

“Intel we’ve gathered seems to suggest this Lord Savidos is acting outside the king’s authority. There has even been a bounty placed on his head by the Storian High Council.”

“He’s a rogue?”

“It would appear that way.”

“You’d think the damned Storians we captured near
an Fhraine
would have given us more information than they did,” the general complained.

“Those were just foot soldiers, General. So far, we’ve only seen one Primary and, unfortunately, he wasn’t able to say anything due to him being stiff as a pine tree,”

Bowen quipped.

“Neff had no choice but to kill the bugger,” the general said with a sigh. “It was either him or Councilman Jost. Chas did the right thing, although Jost is proving to be a major pain in the ass.”

“Still, I wish we could take a Primary alive,” Bowen said. “I’d like to know a hell of a lot more about those damned rebel assassins.”

“Have you made arrangements for Kahn to be in the next shipment of prisoners?”

Ardor blinked but remained quiet, still standing at attention. Her mind was working so quickly she was getting a bitch of a headache.

10

Ardor’s Leveche

“A penal transport will be leaving Riezell at 0600 tomorrow morning,” Bowen replied. “The papers for her will be ready later today.”

“Curious about your new assignment, Kahn?” the general queried.

“Yes, Sir,” Ardor said with a hesitant tone.

“Next to Neff, you are the best we have among the Guardians,” the general stated.

“Your kills are almost equal to hers.”

Ardor frowned. Killing was not something she did either easily or without a great deal of thought. If she could take a target prisoner, she much preferred to do it rather than take the target’s life. To her, killing was always a last resort.

“Of course, we would prefer you bring in your objective alive and reasonably well so we can question him at length, but that will not be an option,” Bowen said.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Ardor asked.

“You want to know the how and wherefore, eh?” the general questioned.

“Yes, Sir.”

The general waved a hand at Bowen, granting him the honor of explaining Ardor’s mission.

“As part of your assignment you will be given papers identifying you as a Storian sympathizer taken into custody on Ollainnis. You will be put into a common cell aboard one of the penal transports along with other Command prisoners destined for the Geimhreadh Páirc work camp on
an Rúis
.”

Ardor winced. Having been born and raised in the balmy climes of Riezell, she hated cold weather and the barren plains of that frozen country would be quite a trial for her.

“I’m sure you would prefer the Samhradh Páirc work camp on Sasana but such is life,” the general said with a twinkle in his light green eyes.

Bowen chuckled. “Don’t worry, Kahn. If history repeats, I doubt you’ll ever make it to
an Rúis
airspace before a Storian interceptor overtakes the penal transport and liberates you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You have a question, Kahn?”

“Sir, I’m sure you aren’t suggesting I pretend to be a Storian.”

“Of course not,” the general snapped. “Where is she to be from, Colonel?”

“Cengus, Sir,” Bowen replied. “It is under Coalition control.” He shrugged.

“Unfortunately, it’s the only planet in the Idimmu Galaxy part of the quadrant we’ve been able to take. We now control every planet and country in the Cairghrian Galaxy, thank the gods!” He frowned. “Well, except for Stori and by rights we should have been able to infiltrate that godforsaken planet. And we could have if the Storians hadn’t stolen the Amhantarean technology making it impossible to get a ship into their airspace. That shield of the Amhantareans makes it impossible to get anything into or out of their airspace without their consent. Great invention except it fell into the wrong hands.”

“What is it the Amhantareans call it?” the general asked.

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“The Net,” Bowen provided. “The Storians call it the Web because they somehow managed to enhance the Amhantarean schematics so that an enemy ship is caught in the web and then is destroyed from the inside out.”

“Like a spider sucking the essence from its prey,” the general commented.

“A gruesome way to meet your end,” Bowen said softly.

“The damned Storians were always loyal to Aduaidh Prime even though the damned Storians are part of
our
galaxy!” the general said with a snort.

“I don’t think the Burgon realized there would be those who would ignore his peace treaty with us,” Bowen said. “I really think he was unprepared for opposition, especially when he learned only Aduaidh Prime and the three planets in the Green Sector would be the only ones to join with the Coalition. It never occurred to him there would be those among his allies who would refuse peace.”

“Thanks be to Alel there are only a few like the Storian king who are kill-hungry, although I’ve heard it said Alejandro’s son is inclined to barter for peace and may when he ascends the throne.”

“I’ve heard that, too, but I won’t hold my breath. You know of Riezell Nine, do you not, Kahn?” Bowen asked.

“I’ve heard of it, Sir,” Ardor answered, flicking her eyes toward Bowen. “It is a dust planet that was used as a medical research center by the Aduaidh forces during the war.

It was so named for it was a Riezellian mining ship that discovered it over sixty years ago.”

“Aye,” Bowen agreed. “It was the ninth planetoid mapped during that trip but just like the other eight, it proved to be devoid of any ores or metals worth anything to us so Command abandoned it.”

“Don’t know why those bastards on Aduaidh Prime kept the name and I wish to Alel’s toes they hadn’t, for it’s rumored they carry on vile experiments in their laboratories there,” the general grumbled.

“They used to. All that stopped when the Burgon sued for peace with the Coalition.” Bowen sniffed. “For what good that did him.”

“Supposedly stopped,” the general grumbled.

“The Storian rebel forces have a base on Riezell Nine that not even King Alejandro knows about,” Bowen explained.

“How did that happen, Sir?” Ardor asked.

Bowen shrugged. “I believe the Burgon had a hand in that little enterprise. Most likely because he can’t tolerate the Storian King and thinks to aid the rebels. Either way, the base is hidden somewhere out in the desert, most likely in one of the myriad cave systems. If we could find out which one, we could eliminate a good portion of the resistance without blowing the entire planet to shreds.” He eyed Ardor. “You have a question?”

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Ardor’s Leveche

“Sir, I know next to nothing about Cengus,” Kahn admitted. “I don’t even know what the inhabitants there are called. What if…?”

“Cenguvian,” the general provided. He held up a hand. “No, it’s Cengusivians.” He frowned. “Or something like that.”

“I’ve arranged for you to enter the sublims lab this evening, Kahn,” Bowen said.

“They’ll hook you up, put you under and by the time you’re ready to be put on the transport tomorrow morning, there won’t be anything you won’t know about Cengus, their king or their part in the war for that matter.” He grinned. “You’ll even be able to speak their language like a native.”

“Sissy-sounding language that it is!” the general scoffed.

“We’ll also include sublims on Stori so you’ll be up to speed on that situation as well,” Bowen added.

“I know you’re pissed that you were brought back from R&R so soon but once you complete this assignment, I’ll see to it—I
promise
you—you will get two months uninterrupted leave on Astráil,” the general told her. He beamed. “Make that three months, all expenses paid by Command.”

Ardor felt her heart thudding in her chest. Whatever her assignment, it must be both vital and dangerous for General Morrison to make such a promise. She looked at Colonel Bowen.

“You want to know the wherefore,” Bowen said with a grin.

“Yes, Sir.”

“We want you to use your highly developed skills to take out the Storian king. If it’s true his son is inclined to offer for peace, we want to give the young man a chance.”

“Without his father to interfere,” the general put in. “Perhaps we can at least have this planet free of Aduaidh Prime influence.”

Ardor was stunned. “You want me to assassinate King Alejandro?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“With extreme prejudice,” the general stated.

“And how am I to do that, Sir?” she asked.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to infiltrate the royal palace at Vespertine. All you need do is make yourself useful to that rebel leader of theirs—what’s his name again, Bowen?”

“We don’t know, sir,” Bowen replied, casting Ardor a look that suggested he thought the old man was getting senile.

“Well, find out!” the general snapped. “What of the other one?”

“If Intel is correct, Sir, it wouldn’t do us any good for his troops to take Major Kahn into custody.”

“Where is he, do you know?”

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Charlotte Boyett-Compo

“At last report near Sauria,” Bowen replied. “The rebel leader will be the one to intercept the prison transport. As lovely as the major is, he will take her to Vespertine.”

Ardor furrowed her brow. “May I ask why you think that will be the case, Sir?”

“From what we have been able to find out about the rebel leader, he is of a different bent than the rest of us. Women don’t interest him. He has made it a point to deliver any women warriors captured directly to King Alejandro,” Bowen replied.

“A known womanizer of the highest order,” the general said with a sniff.

“King Alejandro will certainly take note of you,” Bowen added.