Warrior's Valor (9 page)

Emeron didn't answer at first, but administered the derma fuser precisely, as if she was preoccupied with something. “Protesting against what? And why?”

“Rare birds, pilgrim falcons, protected by the EDA, Environmental Department Authorities, have made this inactive volcanic area their home for over two hundred years. The SC Science & Development Center was conducting tests there and disturbing the hatching season. Their actions threatened an entire generation of falcons.”

“You risked your life for a flock of birds?” Emeron looked incredulously at Dwyn. “You're joking, right?”

“I risked my life because the SC thought they could break the law and endanger an already near-extinct species,” she spat, annoyed at how Emeron dismissed the importance of her work. “A flock of birds may not seem much to you, but a flock of birds today, and then they extend this approach to include a flock of people, or worse—”

“Are you suggesting that the SC would stoop to genocide?” Emeron raised her voice too, placing the derma fuser back in its casing. “Are you crazy?”

“No, I'm not. And if you read all aspects of SC history, back to before any of our people conquered space, you'll see that our worlds have committed countless atrocities.”

“That was then. We live in enlightened times. Our council wouldn't sit idly by—”

She shook her head slowly, exasperated and sad at Emeron's attitude. She wasn't the only one who thought the SC Council could do no wrong. “Emeron,
that's
a very naïve and shortsighted statement. Are you really that gullible?” She withdrew from Emeron and scowled. “And here you have the audacity to act as if I'm a misguided child.”

Closing the small bag with angry gestures, Emeron tossed it into a corner and backed away from her. “You're calling me naïve?” She sounded baffled and furious. “You go from planet to planet and cause trouble with your gang of do-gooders. You tie up an entire unit and keep us from doing our job.”

“As in ‘real work,' catching bad guys and being decorated with flashy medals,” she hissed. She shivered, but refused to avert her eyes to try and find her sweater.

“If you didn't have people like my team and me to catch ‘bad guys,' you'd be in deep trouble and so would a lot of other people,” Emeron said slowly. She glowered at Dwyn. “Don't you dare dismiss what I do for a living.”

“Why not? You dismissed me and the work I do before you even met me. Just listen to yourself.”

Emeron stared at Dwyn, her eyes hard and her gold-speckled black irises burning like hot coals, with an amber glow simmering just beneath the surface. She looked ready to slice Dwyn into thin shreds, but then she faltered and refocused her dark eyes. “You're shivering.”

She blinked. The change of mood was dizzying. “It's cold.” Unable to stop trembling, she rubbed her arms.

“Hold still,” Emeron said, feeling her forehead. “You look pale.” She let go of Dwyn and reached for the medical scanner, then ran it along the back of her head and down her spine. “You have something on your lungs. Weird. Looks like damaged tissue. How the hell did that happen?”

“The smoke from the bots I blasted was pretty thick.”

“You inhaled it?” Emeron stopped scanning. “And didn't tell me?”

“When should I have done that? We've been busy all day.” She pivoted where she sat and nudged the scanner in Emeron's hand away from her. “Surely you noticed that I haven't sat down until now?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. One ration bar.”

“Don't bite my head off.” Emeron pulled a small chromed canister out of the med-kit bag. “Here.” She tapped a setting into it. “Inhale.”

Dwyn raised her eyebrows, but inhaled the medication. It stung a bit, and she coughed, long deep coughs that shook her body. “Happy?” she managed after finally catching her breath.

“For now. You have to inhale more tomorrow. We don't know what substances the burning components consisted of. My scanner isn't that sophisticated.”

Dwyn's chest constricted at the thought of permanent lung damage. “But it doesn't even hurt to breathe,” she said slowly.

“That's a good sign. I'm sure you'll be fine, but we better take precautions, just in case.”

“All right. Just in case.” She turned to crawl into her bedroll but felt a strong hand on her arm. She looked questioningly at Emeron.

“Tell me if you're feeling worse.” It wasn't a request.

“I'm sure it—”

“Promise me.”

Dwyn suddenly lost her breath, and it had nothing to do with her lung damage. Emeron was hovering over her, half a head taller than her as they sat there. “I promise,” she said, willing her voice to sound steady.

Emeron watched Dwyn climb into the bedroll. She was still pale, but a quick scan had proved the medication effective. Not a person to suffer from false pride, Emeron was truly grateful that Dwyn had saved her life during their encounter with the bots. Still, she experienced a strange feeling resembling remorse that Dwyn had been physically harmed. Dwyn had more guts than she'd given her credit for. Petite, almost ethereal, she evoked a strange feeling of protectiveness, which Emeron immediately considered part of the job. An irritating inner voice insisted it was much more than that.

“Emeron? You all right?” Dwyn asked quietly.

“I'm fine. Time to get some sleep.” She followed Dwyn's example and slid between the thermo-blankets. Their bedrolls lay next to one another, and when she turned on her side she was close enough to Dwyn to feel her breath against her face.

“I'm tired, but I'm not sure I can sleep,” Dwyn murmured. “I can't stop wondering who the hell sent those bots after us. Me.”

“We're one step ahead of them right now. You don't have to worry. My unit is prepared. They won't catch us off guard again.” Emeron injected calm assertiveness in her voice.

“I don't doubt your team, Emeron.” Dwyn rose on her elbow. “I simply don't want any of you hurt because of me. Again.” Her voice trembled faintly.

Emeron could hardly breathe. Somehow, the air inside the shelter was thick and refused to fill her lungs. “Part of the job,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“I guess. But that doesn't make it any easier for me.” Dwyn lay down. “My job is to help preserve our planets and ultimately help make them as habitable as possible. I simply can't see life go to waste.”

“You're passionate about what you do, but so am I. Don't worry about—”

“But I do.” Dwyn rose on her elbow again and touched Emeron's arm with her free hand. “How could I not, since all I can think of is you bleeding to death on the ground only hours ago.” Dwyn's breath was ragged as fury and something unreadable shone from her eyes.

Dwyn's touch burned like fire against Emeron's skin. Gasping, she stared down at her hand, as if trying to will it away with the blaze of her glance. “Dwyn,” she said warningly.

“Oh.” Dwyn snatched it back.

She looked at Dwyn and saw something entirely unexpected. Where normally Dwyn's eyes projected confidence and persistence, now they were filled with surprise and…innocence?
Damn it. She looks terrified.

“Emeron?” Dwyn reached out again, halfway, but then her hand hovered between them. “What's wrong?”

“A lot of things.” Something inside her snapped. She had no idea if the molten feelings had erupted because she'd barely cheated death or because she had a stunningly beautiful woman practically in her bedroll. She grabbed Dwyn's hand and tugged her close. Dwyn ended up on her back halfway on Emeron's bedroll, her silver-gray eyes huge. “
You
are wrong. The wrong woman at the wrong time and, damn it, in the wrong place.” She buried her face in Dwyn's long hair where it had escaped the chignon.

Dwyn whimpered and grabbed her by the shoulders, digging her fingertips in. Emeron was sure Dwyn would push her away, out of anger or fear, but instead, Dwyn held on as she slid one of her hands up and touched the back of Emeron's head.

“I thought you were dead.” Dwyn's soft murmur deflated Emeron's rush of emotions.

“I'm fine. Thanks to you.” Knowing she sounded far too formal, she tried to free Dwyn of her weight, but Dwyn didn't let go.

“Yes. You are.” Dwyn allowed her to lift her head enough for their eyes to meet, but kept her hand around the back of her neck.

All the arousal rushed back, flooding her, and she couldn't take her eyes from Dwyn's delicate features. Her pale, curvy lips were parted slightly, and the quick glimpse of small white teeth behind them sent tremors through her.

“Emeron?” Dwyn was out of breath and still looked confused.

“Forgive me.” She moved off Dwyn with the last of her determination. “This is highly unprofessional, and it won't happen again.”

“Isn't it normal to feel a little rattled after a brush with death?” Dwyn reached toward her again, but she ducked.

“It is. I'm trained to ignore such emotions.”

“Oh.” Dwyn seemed not to know what to do with her hands. She was still half lying on Emeron's bedroll. “I see.”

“I don't know what happened just now, but you can be certain that I will
not
forget my position again.” She could hear how cold she sounded, but didn't know what else to say—or do.

Dwyn's features stiffened and her marble skin looked as cold and rigid as its color suggested. Emeron watched with fascination how an emotional shield slid down over Dwyn's eyes, not allowing any feelings to permeate. “Of course. I appreciate that.” She slowly crawled over to her own bedroll and curled up in it. “Good night,
Commander
.”

Emeron winced at the pointed use of her title. She had behaved unprofessionally and lowered her guard since she assumed this was a mere babysitting job. She had also offended the person she was ordered to protect by allowing her libido to surface. She crept into her own bedroll and sighed. All in all a rather lousy day.

*

“The shuttle from the Guild Nation vessel has landed, Admirals, Lt. Commander.” An ensign gestured for Kellen, Rae, and Ewan Jacelon to follow him. After stepping into the VIP room at the shuttle-gate area, Kellen waited impatiently the two minutes it took the passengers to disembark. The door opened and her handsome boy with olive skin and dark eyes, a heritage from his father, appeared. Even though he looked mostly Onotharian, Kellen thought he looked more and more like his mother, Princess Tereya of Gantharat, her childhood friend and protégé.

Kellen had loved and cared for Armeo since he was born, and when his mother was assassinated when Armeo was five, Kellen became his sole guardian. Now she wrapped her arms around him and felt him go rigid for a few seconds before he clung to her waist. She knew he might be embarrassed later, but she needed to feel the beat of his heart and listen to him breathe. “Gods of Gantharat. You're safe,” she murmured, and tipped his chin up to examine his face.

Armeo was now nearly thirteen human years old, but looked younger since Gantharians' average life span exceeded humans' by thirty-some years.

Rae said huskily, “Let me look at you, son,” and stood by Kellen's side. Without thinking, Kellen wrapped one arm around them both and held them tight. This was her life, her family. Without them, she was nothing.

At first, Rae's affection for Armeo had been the only redeeming quality of a woman who had held both of them captive. Now, Rae's love for them, her willingness to risk her life, not only for Armeo, but for the freedom of his and Kellen's homeworld, Gantharat, was only one reason Kellen loved her.

“Hey, Kellen, you're crushing us,” Armeo objected, and blushed as he looked at Ewan Jacelon. “Save me, Granddad.”

Ewan came over and hugged the boy briefly, a man-to-man kind of hug that apparently Armeo approved of. A moment later, his eyes darkened. “Granddad, I'm so sorry.” He cast his eyes downward, but just as quickly raised his gaze again, looking both afraid and brave as he spoke. “I wanted to save her from the kidnappers. I tried.”

“Shh, son. It wasn't your fault.”

“People at the space station whispered that M'Ekar has escaped. Is it true? Is it him?” Armeo's voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

“We don't know, not for sure, but it's likely, Armeo,” Rae answered in her father's place. She still stood in Kellen's embrace.

Kellen winced at the pain and fury on Armeo's face. “I hate that man. I hate being related to him. I despise what he's done in the past and what he's doing to Grandma now.” Armeo's eyes glowed like scorching rings of fire.

“I know, Armeo, we all feel the same way.” Kellen knew this wasn't the time to hug him, no matter how much she wanted to wrap him in her arms and shield him from life's harsh truth. “We will find your grandmother.”

Armeo nodded, jaws clenched. “They hurt Ayahliss. After they took Grandma away, Ayahliss took several of the bad guys out, even when our guards tried to restrain her. She used her gan'thet skills, and the bad guys had to shoot her to stop her. Even when she was bleeding, she limped after them. Then they fired at her again, and she didn't get up a second time.” Armeo's voice was monotonous as he retold the horrible event. “She's doing a little better now.”