It’s time for me to say something I should have, ages ago. “You’re worth everything. I’ve changed because of you. You inspire people, make them want to be better and stronger than they ever thought they could be. Who else could’ve cobbled together an armada from the dregs of society?”
“And yet, it’s not enough.”
“It will be,” I say firmly. “It must be. We haven’t seen the endgame. There may yet be some surprises.”
He raises his head then, his face stark. “We’re at the wall, Jax, and I cannot see the door from here.”
I understand his despair. Somewhere in the silence of space, three thousand Morgut ships muster against us. The idea of fighting such a force seems laughable.
“These are the worst odds yet,” I agree.
“I can bear anything, as long as I know you’re with me.”
I reach up and touch his face, tracing his features with my fingertips. March closes his eyes as if I offer a pleasure too sharp to be borne. At length he turns into my caress, sealing his lips against my palm.
“I am with you. You are my captain, my commander, and my love. Neither war nor death will change it.”
His hands curve around my back, holding me tighter. “I couldn’t survive losing you. It nearly destroyed me, thinking I had.”
I shake my head. “You can’t consider that. You were wise in saying we had to put distance between us. This is not the time for personal concerns.”
“When will it ever be?” he demands.
“I can’t answer that.”
Responsibility weighs on him today. He’s feeling the burden of all the lives resting on his shoulders, and there’s nothing I can do. My one consolation is that I don’t see the cold detachment building in him. This is a different kind of war from the one he fought against humans in tunnels.
“Do you ever wish you’d answered differently?”
I tilt my head, puzzled. “When?”
“Back on New Terra, when I asked you to come away with me.”
“You suggested we grow rutabagas.” Much as I love him, I can’t regret not becoming a farmer. That would’ve meant sacrificing one great love for another.
“You didn’t think that was your only option, did you?”
To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it too much. Back then, I didn’t realize he was seriously asking me something. He’s the mind reader, not me.
“I didn’t want a life where I had to stay in one place,” I tell him gently.
“So you’re not sorry.”
Warmth surges through me. He’s touched my mind at last, trying to get a sense of how I feel. “Here, as we teeter on the brink, I’m in your arms. So no, I’m not sorry.”
March draws back, incredulous. “You think we’ll figure some way out of this.”
“We always have before.”
“If I didn’t know better, Jax, I’d call that faith.”
I nod. “In you, not indifferent gods.”
He kisses me then, his hands in my hair. For one glorious moment, I’m overflowing with him. The loneliness recedes, and I’m reminded why I wait for him, why nobody else will do.
A crackle from the comm pulls him from me. With an apologetic look, he takes his seat. “This is the Triumph.”
“You’re cleared to enter our airspace,” the docking officer tells him. “And landing vectors have been transmitted and received.”
Like any good pilot, March double-checks before initiating the landing sequence. “Acknowledged, control. We’ll see you shortly.” He glances at me. “You should probably take a seat in case there’s turbulence.”
“Is that code for ‘please, stay’?” I raise a brow as I settle into the nav chair.
He shakes his head. “No code. I’ll say it straight-out—please stay. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
“Sure I do.”
March taps the comm. “We’re landing shortly. All crew should be prepared.”
New Terra swells before us: Patchwork land deepens into contour and texture, then I can begin to make out details as the Triumph angles downward. We won’t be visiting Ankaraj this time. Since we left, Tarn has seen to the construction of a new capital complex in a more hospitable city.
We put down in Ocklind, a more temperate locale. Since we’re VIPs instead of fugitives, disembarkation doesn’t take long. Long lines of people snake all the way to the far doors, and they offer us ugly looks when they see we’re not joining the queue. Instead, officials wave us through the checkpoints, manned by an embarrassment of Peacemaker units. These bots wear enough ordnance to pacify a small country.
But it’s not the droids that cool the heat of resentment in these folks. “Mary’s grace! That’s the Armada commander. Something big must be brewing.”
“They saved a bunch of colonists out on Dobrinya asteroid,” someone else says. “Saw it on the midnight bounce.”
Unlike Perlas, they recognize him, not me. That makes me so proud.
On the other side, we find the docking officer. “Welcome back to New Terra.”
“Thanks. The rest of our crew will arrive shortly.” March glances back as if looking for them.
I spot Doc and Evelyn heading our way. Nearly joined at the hip, they are. Even if it’s a strictly working relationship, I can’t help feeling sorry for Rose. It’s five minutes before she arrives, and Doc looks surprised, as if he thought she’d stay on ship. Which makes no sense, considering we’re on New Terra and not some Podunk outpost.
Dina ambles up, the slow stride camouflaging her limp. Her expression is brighter than I’ve seen it for a while, though, and I’m positive I know why.
I grin. “She’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”
“They were near a jump zone when our message came in. So, yeah, she will.”
That means they made it. I hadn’t realized how afraid I was that Kora and Hit might’ve been among those six vessels reported lost. Since we jumped from Dobrinya, I haven’t heard from comms whether they’ve determined what ships we have left.
While I’m thinking of Kora—
“Are we going to have trouble?” I ask March, low. “Some of our ships have nonhuman crew.” And the new immigration laws are harsh.
“I’ll leave word. If they want us to keep fighting out there, they can’t afford to limit the pool from which we can draw our soldiers.”
At length, Tarn sends an honor guard to escort us to the quarters he’s arranged for the Triumph officers. The crew just seems happy to get some R&R in a decent human settlement. Ocklind is the capital city on a large island, highly defensible. In addition, there are white-sand beaches here and crystal blue water.
They, at least, can expect a little joy while we’re here.
.CLASSIFIED-TRANSMISSION.
.CONTACT.
.FROM-EDUN_LEVITER.
.TO-SUNI_TARN.
. ENCRYPT-DESTR UCT-ENABLED.
The team arrived shortly after the departure of the Triumph. Everything you requested came to pass. Mining-colony residents were appropriately thankful, and they told the media of their great love and appreciation for the Conglomerate. Several suitable sound bites resulted and have been since bounced to every major satellite.
Your requested smear campaign proceeds apace. We have uncovered several little-known facts about Ramona Jax. Cruelty can be quite delicious when deployed against one’s enemies, don’t you agree? In any event, the people will be hard-pressed to overlook these atrocities, should they become public. Henceforth, she may smile for the vids all she likes, but those voice files are unmistakable. Even I am shocked at the sins she has committed against her fellow man, and I believe I may be acquitted of naïveté. She will either bend to my will, or I shall see her broken before I’m done. I should have some response from her shortly regarding how she intends to proceed.
If you review the market shares, you’ll see that the Conglomerate has gained more than twenty points while Syndicate approval ratings are falling. Polls indicate the general public sees the Syndicate not as security, but as brutal, heartless thugs. We’re winning the media war on New Terra, at least. The rest will follow. After all, you have employed me to make it so.
Though you had not directly asked me to do so, I have taken the liberty of destroying a Syndicate weapons cache on New Terra. If their people are poorly supplied, they will find it harder to fight. Hired hands lose morale faster than those who fight for higher ideals.
Lastly, I successfully made contact with the gray men and they have agreed to meet. I will need to travel to them in person, so they can scan my DNA to ascertain I am who I claim to be. I cannot avoid this circumstance, but I will take all precautions to prevent any whisper of my identity leaving that locale. The gray men can be trusted, absolutely, because they have no interest in anything but hunting, not for the kill but for the chase. They are lawful in the extreme and if we reach an agreement with them, you can rely on their keeping the contract, though sometimes in annoyingly literal fashion. They will do business only with me because I am a known factor, and they understand that I, too, am bound by my word. Once we have established tentative terms, I will forward the facts and figures, as relate to their hire, including salary and benefits. Do not fear. In these negotiations, I will not compromise you or the Conglomerate in any fashion.
.END-TRANSMISSION.
.ACTIVATE-WORM: Y/N?
.Y.
.TRANSMISSION-DESTROYED.
CHAPTER 46
Chancellor Tarn greets us before the summit. His clothing is a little rumpled, and his hair shows evidence of nervous hands. I can tell he hasn’t slept in a while. Oddly, that reassures me. You don’t want your people led by someone who can rest well while they’re dying. That’s too much like Farwan at the helm.
He extends a hand to me. “Lieutenant Commander Jax, you’re looking well.”
For the first time, the rank feels real to me, one I’ve earned and not an arbitrary title hung on me by someone else. “I wish I could say the same, sir.”
His eyes actually twinkle at me a little. “I was being polite.”
So I do look like hell. Well, I’m not surprised. The constant patrols have worn us all down, and it doesn’t help to feel like we’re fighting a losing battle out there. We talk on the move, heading toward the formal senate chamber built to house the representatives for all tier worlds.
March shakes the Chancellor’s hand in turn. “What time is the summit?”
Tarn answers, “A little less than an hour now. You cut it close.”
“We weren’t expecting to attend,” March says wryly.
I follow along, listening. The rest of our crew has been cleared for whatever amusement suits them best. Dina is still camped out in the docking area, waiting for Hit’s ship to come in. Imagining their reunion puts a smile on my face for all of thirty seconds.
Tarn inclines his head. “In a very interesting development, there is another faction recently arrived on New Terra. They’re rebels, refugees from Tarnus: a militia as I understand it, fragments of the palace guard. All this time, they thought the royal line had died out, so they kept their counsel and lived quietly on world. They’ve since learned that your ship’s mechanic is a princess of the blood. They’ve come to fight for her.”