Komi Syndicate (Dark Seas Book 6) Read online

  “You did. And I did,” she agreed after slapping his arm lightly in rebuke. “Don’t make me feel uncomfortable around you, I’m the only honest counsel you have.”

  “I would die to keep you safe even if you did commit treason. And not only because I feel the same as you do about my father.”

  “Why then?” she probed.

  Bannick walked over to the expansive alumiglass window of his suite on the Palidragon. “You just want to hear me say it, but I love you and therefore I will satisfy your needs.” He looked again at the planet below, the new base of his power and the source of all his conflict with Dayson. “I’m lucky to have you, you’re my foundation in a universe beset by storms.”

  “It’s my duty to calm you so you can make clear decisions,” she countered as she slid up behind him and wrapped arms about his midsection.

  Bannick’s anger flared again at the thought of where they were, and what this location meant to both himself and his beloved mate. “This ship is mine. No, it’s ours. If there is one thing the Komi do respect, it’s private property and the individual reward for hard work. How dare he order me to leave it here? There are over eight hundred combat ships in this system alone. Dayson is nothing more than an itch on the Syndicate’s… no, not even that. She’s a mere itch on my skin. There is plenty of power here to keep the peace and quell any problems without leaving my ship behind.”

  “Your generals more than agree with you.”

  He felt like a child again. This insult was beyond the pale. “The Palidragon belongs where I am.”

  She massaged his shoulders. “Of course, my lord, but perhaps he doesn’t know of your attachment to the vessel? I think we both agree he is evil, but there is also the possibility he might simply have no idea what it means to you.”

  “He knows full well. He’s up to something,” Bannick snarled. “If he’s planning on replacing me as successor, and I think he is—”

  “Then he’ll have his way,” she said, boldly interrupting him. “We will retreat to a life of luxury together, because you must live. Do you think you’ll fight the tens of thousands of ships he has at his disposal?” Palia asked, despite knowing the answer.

  “No. Not even this ship is that powerful.”

  “And there are eleven more like it,” she reminded him. “Any of which would turn on you if your father promised one of your siblings the right of succession.”

  “You presume to know my family,” Bannick said, slightly insulted. “My sister would be happy to fight on my side if it came to that.”

  “She would observe the situation, and see how many ships and troops you held,” Palia corrected. “Then she’d join the side that she felt was likely to win. You want to believe she is your sister, when in fact she is another Komi. She will do what benefits her.”

  He was silent for several minutes as he looked at the surface of Mindari glide below him.

  “I agree,” he finally responded. “There is no way I’m going without the Palidragon. If my father means to make an example of me, I will not make it easy or cheap. If he wishes to retain me as successor, then there is no way I can afford to appear weak. Maybe this is a test.”

  “I would be with you, if you are going to disobey the orders of the High Lord Komi, then I want to be there. I am now, and always will be loyal to you,” she added.

  He looked at her. She meant every word. She would rather die by his side in battle with the Home System Fleet than live here, knowing he’d died without her.

  There was only one thing to do. If he was going to defy his father, he would go all the way. “You may go, if you go as my wife.” He dropped to his knee and looked up into her face. “If you would have me, Palia Amanti, daughter of Arin and Marko Amanti of Oskinar.”

  Her grin widened to a width he thought might tear her face.

  “I didn’t think this was ever a possibility,” she beamed.

  “So no then?” he jested.

  “Yes, yes, YES!” She threw herself on him.

  An hour later they continued their conversation with stress pushed from their bodies. He lay next to her in bed, skin on skin.

  “Did you mean it?” she asked.

  “I never say anything I don’t mean.”

  She looked thoughtful. “How long will we contract?”

  “There will be no contract, unless you desire it. I will never let you go of my own free will.”

  “No,” she answered. “No contract.”

  They lay together in silence for a long time before she finally spoke again. “Are we traitors?” she asked.

  “We are securing our future. And I’m tired of being a tool for my father. I know at least one each of my brothers and sisters are as well, although as you pointed out, we will be wary of their loyalty to me. Perhaps we might take some time to visit them before we travel to Komi.”

  “It will take half a year. Your father may consider that an insult.”

  “Let him consider it an assertion of his child’s independence.”

  She laughed. “Then I have an idea for you that you may or may not like.”

  “Sounds scandalous.”

  She whispered in his ear.

  He leaned back on the pillow and smiled. He knew he loved Palia for a reason. Her idea was perfect. It turned Sarah Dayson from a nemesis into a hammer in Bannick’s hand.

  “You are indeed my one honest counselor,” he said, stroking her hair. “And you are brilliant.”

  Chapter 4 - Family

  32 Juni 15332

  Emille pushed.

  For a moment the pain was intense, her abdomen felt as if it wanted to rip itself apart. Then Alarin was with her, and his mind, calm as it almost always was, wrapped into hers. The pain lessened far more than half and she knew he was assuming the greater share.

  He stood over her birthing bed, smiling as tears formed in his eyes.

  “Give me half,” she said, looking up at him.

  He squeezed her hand a bit too hard as a strong contraction hit. “I’m fine.”

  His rapidly blinking eyes told her a different story.

  “What you are is stubborn.” She considered insisting that he release some of the pain back to her, but then decided to let him display his bravado. It would teach him a lesson about sharing the burden. “When you’re ready, give me my half. Until then, show me how strong you are, husband.”

  She batted her eyes at him.

  From the look on his face, her pain level would be increasing soon.

  “Breath deep,” the Jalai priestess told her. “The Mother will be teaching us all about patience this day.”

  Across the room a counselor from the school their older child attended held M’terith up high so he could see his mother. Emille could sense her boy’s concern, so she touched his mind while her pain was less and she’d be able to shield him from it. She shared her love for him, and her pride.

  With Alarin doing more than his share, she gratefully possessed the control to caress M’terith without sharing any of her discomfort.

  Alarin, of course, picked that moment to lose his will. For a brief instant the plethora of sensations that came with childbirth popped back into her mind. And even though Alarin recovered almost immediately, reassuming his share, the momentary burst of sensation traveled from mother to child.

  M’terith began screaming his displeasure.

  “Take him, I have this,” she told her husband, trying not to let her exasperation show too much. “He is more important right now.”

  Alarin walked to the boy, refusing to let go of her suffering.

  So she pushed him out of her mind. Something that would cause him immediate pain, but then free him to tend to the boy.

  The full sensation of childbirth returned immediately, tensing every muscle in her body.

  “Ouch,” Alarin said, grabbing his temple with his free hand.

  “Breathe,” the priestess ordered.

  “Breathe? I am tearing apart!” she growled at the woman.


  She watched as Alarin’s back disappeared through the exit into the next room with M’terith. She’d asked for half. She could handle half. If he’d done as she asked, they’d still be locked together mentally and sharing the load.

  But no, he didn’t do what she said and then she had to do something to deal with the situation.

  Emille reached out to the shared adept consciousness, and passed her pain into the group mind. Every adept on Nula Armana took a small share if they were unconsciously willing. Almost immediately the suffering disappeared, all that remained was a slight twinge of pressure as each contraction rippled through her.

  “I should have thought of this in the first place,” she said, sighing in relief.

  “Where has your pain gone?” the priestess asked sharply, concern and condemnation on her face.

  Emille wondered if the priests would ever get past their ancient beliefs that the adepts were up to something nefarious. Merik really hadn’t helped that understanding fade away. Still, reality was that the adepts were the hammer that kept society stable, the priests were the real foundation it was all built on.

  “I pushed it into the minds of all other adepts,” she replied. “So that none will feel enough to even notice.”

  “Women have suffered this since time began for us,” the priestess chided. “Yet you let others carry your burden? What of those before?”

  “I suspect they would have liked to do the same if they could have,” Emille replied.

  “It is not the way. Women bear the burden of pain to create life. It is the will of the gods.”

  “Priestess. If you want to suffer for the gods, do not think I will stand in your way. I, however, know more about the true nature of gods than you ever will,” Emille snapped. “You will concern yourself with the birth of my child, not with the level of my suffering.”

  The older woman scowled and pulled her temple garb closer around her as if to ward off Emille’s lack of piety.

  Can I rejoin you?

  Her husband was the most polite ruler she’d ever met, and now that her birthing was easier, she could see that he’d meant to help, not to harm. He’d asked to rejoin her, a rare thing among family. She was certain that if her mother had been an adept and was here, she wouldn’t ask. She’d push her way into Emille’s mind like a landslide.

  Father would be more like Alarin, but her father was also a rare soul. How lucky she’d found a mate just like him. Or rather, Merik found him for her. Despite all the evil the mad adept had done, this union was Merik’s doing.

  In death, she’d been redeemed.

  Alarin, who her intimacy with had caused this situation in the first place, was not so lucky. Two relationships in his life, and both with the most powerful adepts in existence. She wondered if he was cursed in some fashion, then decided that it didn’t matter. She wanted him with her, and if that was a curse, it was one he’d have to learn to live with.

  Of course. I have angered the priestess, she thought to him.

  Where is the pain?

  That is what angered her. I shunted it to the entire adept population. She finds that distasteful.

  She sensed Alarin’s mirth. He was much more devout than her, although more to the ideas of the churches and their pacification of the populace than the gods themselves. Most, if not all adepts knew since Merik’s day of revelation that the gods were a manifestation of greater density in the material of the universe, concentrations of its consciousness. While it had seemed to the adepts, at least prior to the newcomers arriving, that Faroo was a greater power with potential to rule, in reality he was a subset of a greater thing and a very minor part of the whole.

  The universe did not regard any one part of itself as more valuable than another, or so she believed, the exception being the minds of those who would tend it.

  You think of the strangest things, Alarin thought to her.

  I am the voice of the adepts to the universe. It is my place to think of these things.

  So it is.

  She laughed inside.

  “Breathe,” commanded the priestess.

  The cries of her daughter greeted her not long after, and then she tended to the needs of the baby as suckling lips attached to her breast.

  “We have a girl,” Alarin said as he rejoined her physically.

  “She’s not gifted,” Emille said.

  “That is of no importance. What matters is that she is healthy.”

  Emille smiled at M’terith. Maybe he was her successor. Maybe his bloodline would someday create the adepts that spoke to her from the future. She’d thought that since Merik was a woman, and she a woman, maybe only women could handle the power that she currently wielded. But she knew there would be a successor, and she knew M’terith was the only potential for that.

  So far.

  What mattered was that an adept existed that could tap into the power the entirety of the adepts wielded, and direct it at anything that threatened reality.

  Those were thoughts for later. For the moment, there was something more pressing to tend to than how the adepts come to rule everything.

  Maybe it’s her children that are gifted and carry on your legacy, Alarin thought to her. After all, the gift has skipped generations before.

  You might be right, she thought back.

  She caressed the confused infant’s mind, a blank slate that she would fill with hope for a future Emille knew was coming.

  Chapter 5 - An Unsubtle Push

  07 Seppet 15332

  The OSV Sheffaris was nearing the end of a rapid overhaul and refit. Sarah Dayson had a problem a lot of military leaders wish they had. She had more ships than people to crew them.

  With the surplus of ships, several of the damaged vessels under her command were being disassembled, their components used on other warships in the fleet to make them whole. Or, in some cases, improved. The Sheffaris was one of the latter, and the Hyaku-hari another.

  With the massive influx of materials, including advanced equipment and AIs, Sarah had ordered her quarters on the Sheffaris updated to serve as a personal situation room. She could, at any time, transform the walls into an accurate view of the space around her, or any other display she felt appropriate. The first time she’d done so it was both exhilarating and unnerving, with both herself and her furnishings seemingly floating free in space.

  She wondered if she had indulged her rank in spending assets on quarters such as these, but decided the answer was no. Of all people, she had to be the best informed. Lives, potentially all life, counted on that.

  More importantly, however, she had to focus on making her command team a well oiled machine. Remove personal barriers to her officers concentrating on their duties. Keep non-combat stress levels low.

  The heavy carrier Hyaku floated a mere ten kilometers off the starboard bow, immense even at that distance. Hanada Kuo was on board, inspecting the overhaul that was still underway. The vessel had another several months of work, there simply weren’t enough skilled personnel to make the upgrades go any faster.

  “I’m leaving it up to you,” Sarah responded to his latest transmission to her.

  “I can’t decide,” he said. “What would you do?”

  “I’m not about to share my opinions on personal relationships or anything else on an unsecured channel,” she responded. “Not everyone on the ground thinks we should have privacy up here, even when conversations like this one happen.”

  Their transmission was probably being recorded by the newly formed news outlet in Jerna City.

  Why do people feel the need for a press outlet at a time like this? Trust in the military was extremely high. Why wouldn’t it be? Sarah’s team had saved nearly every outsider in the Oasis system several times already, often at great cost to those serving. Yet there it was, a news outlet, stirring the pot with unsubstantiated questions only a fool would think prudent.

  She couldn’t even arrest the instigator. The main problem, the lead reporter, was a civi
lian, and Thea said he could do what he wanted as long as he didn’t distort the truth.

  The prying sensationalism always makes any situation worse. It felt like most reporters would commit treason for a story, and Sarah didn’t trust them. She hadn’t since the Five Freighter Fiasco back on Korvand.

  Still, Thea wanted it. Apparently in the Mayor’s eyes a free press was the watchdog of a free people.

  At least Sarah could control most of what was heard from her fleet, and she intended to do so. Secure channels existed for a reason.

  “By the stars, Sarah, I need help with this one. I love this ship.”

  “Lucy, take my channel secure,” Sarah ordered her AI, then waited for Kuo to do the same. It was procedure that when one end of a comm went secure, the other speaker would do the same in response. Data protection was as important to battle as ammunition in some cases.

  “Baenor, secure this channel, report when confirmed,” Kuo ordered his AI.

  “Channel is secure,” Lucy and Baenor reported nearly simultaneously.

  Sarah griped at him. “Great, now who knows what the press will be saying. That you and I are having an affair, or we’re keeping secrets from Thea, or Harmeen’s gods knows what.”

  “I just need your help,” Hanada sent back. “I don’t care if we’re on a secure line or not.”

  “Hanada, don’t be stupid,” Sarah barked, irritated that he didn’t see the threat she did.

  “Or maybe you took this to a secure line to call me names?”

  “I took this to a secure line to keep your business, and fleet business, private. And, if you look like an idiot, at least I’m the only one who’ll know,” she responded.

  “What? What did I do to be called an idiot?” He sounded genuinely confused. Why were men so blind?

  “Heinrich loves you, genius. You’re going to put priority on your duty assignment and leave her behind for a ship?”

  “She doesn’t love me,” he answered. “I’ve tried a few times to test that, she’s not interested.”

  Sarah sighed deeply. Sometimes men weren’t the smartest, but with a little guidance they could do okay. She had hope Hanada could make things work with Heinrich, and Sarah planned on guiding him, which seemed strange. It’s not like she was an expert. But, as part of her plan to reduce command structure stress, this needed to happen. For both of them.