And worse yet, from a strictly female point of view, Jordana Tegge did not captain a "well-armed trader." That had been a smoke screen. She was Fleet, and what they'd found docked in an obscure outer bay of Rim Station X-33 was a second huntership, the Scorpio. Tal had been pleased by fourteen skilled recruits on Tat. Jordana Tegge brought him three hundred, and one of the Empire's finest fighting ships.
Jealousy is a heinous sin. The catechism learned in childhood didn't help a bit. Add in chagrin, and Kass hurt all over. She'd pushed Tal Rigel away, straight into the arms of this-this blatant siren. A glorified version of Liona Dann. Pok, dimi, and fyd!
Twenty minutes later, Kass, Zee-Zee, and Mical Turco, the Nav officer, were seated in the bleak way station's officers' lounge, attempting not to stare too closely at the meeting two tables over between Tal, Dorn Jorkan, Jordana Tegge, and her First Officer, Gregor Merkanov. Merkanov was shorter than his captain, which still put him more than half a head taller than Kass, his coloring-hair, eyes, and skin-darker than most Regulons, his square face best described as pugnacious. Where Captain Tegge was cold and hard as the dark vacuum of space, Merkanov bristled with energy, looking as if he might spring from his chair at any moment. Did he too fear a trap? Did he wonder what Kass had wondered during those first days after her release from the Archives while Astarte traveled from Regula to Blue Moon? Was Tal Rigel for real? Or had the Fleet's youngest captain merely gone undercover, seeking out Regula's enemies from the other side of the conflict?
That was the problem of being a flyspeck rebellion in an Empire that spanned twelve star systems. Everyone feared a trap. Every time. Everywhere. Just as Kass feared Tegge and the Scorpio weren't what they appeared to be. Tegge might seem cold and hard, a true warrior, but Tal would appreciate that, as well as the striking packaging. Which made Tegge a perfect walking honey trap. And if S'sorrokan was beginning to be a problem for the Empire, Fleet just might be willing to set out a huntership as bait.
Oh, for greater empathic skills. Kass was getting nothing from Jordana Tegge but steely determination. But for whose benefit?
"Told you not to toss the captain on the wind," Zee-Zee whispered in her ear. "You've got a problem."
"If he chooses quantity over quality," Kass shot back.
Zee-Zee laughed out loud, causing Commander Turco to raise one of his nicely formed eyebrows. Kass's Nav training officer was one of her favorite people. A man who could always find time for a bit of dry humor, a teasing smile, or a hearty "well done." He was also, she now knew, one of the three who had risked everything to rescue her from the Academy four years ago.
"Omni," Turco said, "looks like she's bringing us Scorpio, and Dorn and I both advised against following up on the rumor, thinking it was a trap."
"It still might be," Kass warned.
"Watch it, they're coming over," Zee-Zee hissed.
Chairs scraped as Tal's officers shot to their feet. Since formal introductions had been made earlier that evening, he simply asked, "May we join you?"
Mical snagged a second table, shoved it into place, while Dorn swiftly ferried chairs. Finally the eight of them were seated, another round of drinks delivered. Tal raised his glass. "To the Scorpio and her crew. The biggest coup yet for the rebellion." They all drank.
Tal noticed Kass hesitate before downing the smooth-and expensive-xaax. His little Psyclid didn't look happy, but she hadn't yet heard Captain Tegge's story. "If you will permit," Tal said, catching Jordana's eye, "I'd like to pass along a bit of what you told me. There are always questions in people's minds, and the truth may help."
Tal could almost swear he heard Kass's voice echoing through his head. How do you know it's truth, not fiction? And as always, he had to trust his gut reaction. Yes, Tegge gave every appearance of being hot bait, but he didn't know any Fleet captain who could earn their keep as a vid star. And she'd have to be just that if the story she'd told him was fiction, the defection of the Scorpio a well-baited trap.
Jordana Tegge's ice blue eyes flashed and then she nodded.
"Captain Tegge was born on Epsilon 3," Tal began, "where her family owned a merchant fleet. Ep 3 was neutral territory and the business flourished. The captain, a bit like you, Kiolani"-he nodded to Kass-"wanted to go farther than the trading lanes. I met her when I arrived at the Academy. We shared a few of the same classes."
What the . . . ? A groan, not his own, reverberated in his head.
"But last year Regula set its sights on Ep 3. In the course of the takeover, Captain Tegge lost her family and the family business. The Empire confiscated their ships, turned the company over to a cousin of a member of the Council of Twelve. Apparently, no one made the connection between a Fleet captain and a trading company in supposedly neutral territory or things might have been handled differently. In any event, we are happy to have such a powerful addition to the rebellion."
Behind his cordial social face, Tal winced as murmurs of approval swept the table. If he kept having to make speeches, he was going to learn to be a diplomat in spite of himself.
Kass's gaze remained on her xaax, her forehead wrinkled by a frown. She still didn't believe? Or . . . fyd! Was his little Psyclid actually jealous? Was it possible?
Zee-Zee Foxx interrupted his thoughts with an eager, "Does this mean we're going to get to fight at last?"
Thank Omni for Foxx's high spirits, her strength and integrity. Which was why he'd assigned her the not-so-easy task of being Kass Kiolani's roommate. "What it means, Foxx, is that we can plan more than an occasional raid on small Empire outposts. In the last hour we've nearly doubled our firepower, and yes, there's some thinking to do, but things are looking up."
"We need to go to Hell Nine," Kass inserted suddenly.
Seven pairs of eyes stared, jaws dropped. Tal had a good idea where this was headed, but this wasn't the time to go chasing all the way across the sector to Hell Nine. Unless, of course, Mondragon had no less than a heavy cruiser at his disposal.
"I'm sorry," Kass added swiftly. "I just thought as long as you were revising your plans . . ."
"Okay, Kiolani," Dorn Jorkan said, "I know you well enough to know you have a reason. Let's hear it."
"I misspoke," Kass murmured. "My apologies."
Tal could see the chagrin in her eyes. Anxiety that he would do nothing about Psyclid's alleged Sorcerer Prime had made her blurt out the name Hell Nine before he could order them all back to Blue Moon to regroup. But obviously, Kass still didn't trust Jordana Tegge, and she'd clamped her mouth shut over any mention of the Psyclid sorcerer in front of a possible betrayer.
When Kass had come to him, asking him to divert to Hell Nine on the grounds that Mondragon would be a remarkable asset to the rebellion, he'd put her off, telling her to wait until they'd seen what was waiting at Rim Station X-33. Now they knew. And Kass still wanted to find her sorcerer. Fiancé.
Fyd!
She was looking at him with those huge amber eyes, circled by the dark lines and shadows she used as enhancements on rare social occasions. He could no more ignore her plea than he could cease to be S'sorrokan.
Later. Nothing more than a thought, but Kass returned an infinitesimal nod, as if she'd heard him clearly.
The mood shifted to pure celebration, but beneath the joviality Tal heard the derogatory chant of his childhood. Psyclids are weird, Psyclids are weird, Psyclids are . . .
Chapter 17
"K'kadi," Kass said, catching and holding her brother's mercurial gaze, "we need to have a serious talk. I want you to pay close attention and show me that you understand. All right?"
She was sitting in the desk chair in K'kadi's room, with her younger brother regarding her with unaccustomed solemnity from his perch on the edge of his bed. No floating faces, no hovering question marks, not a faux laser beam in sight. Perhaps some of her efforts at teaching him control were sinking in. Azure eyes wide, a lock of long pale hair falling onto his forehead, K'kadi simply nodded.
"You've worked hard all these weeks," Kass told him, "and I'm proud of you. But we've done all we can in your room. While we're dockside here on X-33, we need to find a place outside the ship where we have enough room to really find out what you can do."
K'kadi's eyes lit with eager anticipation. Poor baby, Kass thought, he hadn't been off-ship since they left Blue Moon. Raised in luxury and surrounded all his life by beauty, he'd been confined by utilitarian metal and plasti for weeks now. Not that Rim Station X-33 could offer any green vistas, but at least it was a change.