Chapter 2

Hobato and Tranis had not offered a time when Piras’s spy contact might show up. With no idea of when to expect his unknown visitor, he tried to settle down to get some work done.

His attempt to be productive was in vain, of course.

Now that he had time to contemplate the proffered mission, he couldn’t get anything accomplished.

Too many questions buzzed in his head.

Which was stupid, because he couldn’t hope to find answers on his own.

He didn’t know enough.

Yet as fruitless as obsessing over what the secret assignment might entail and who besides Tranis had put his name forward for it, he was consumed by the mysteries anyway.

It made him tense.

Being tense made him grouchy.

Being grouchy made him short with everyone around him, and most subordinates already thought him a brutal hardass of a commanding officer.

Which he admitted he was. Piras did not suffer foolishness from others. He despised it in himself even more. Fretting over whatever was coming was absurd, and he hated that he was doing it.

He needed a distraction.

He had a diversion behind him; quite a large one, in fact.

If he had turned, Piras could have looked at the window vid behind his desk.

It filled the entire wall and showed the spectacular view of the ocean that surrounded Fleet Headquarters.

The beauty never failed to amaze, and it often settled his mind to stare into the vast green sea with the endless blue sky stretching overhead.

On a calm day with good weather, its serenity was welcome. In these days of war, Piras thought it a better escape than sleep or alcohol.

With no clan, Piras didn’t bother with portraits to liven up his space.

The huge pane of scenery made up for that lack.

At least that was what he told himself.

Today, however, he didn’t want to contemplate the ocean.

He feared it wouldn’t distract him enough.

He might even think about Tranis’s parting words.

No, the view would not keep his mind off that or the ceaseless questions battering his mind in the wake of the sudden meeting called in Tranis’s office.

Instead, he stared at his many spaceship models.

They decorated the shelves crowding the other three walls of his office.

He’d built them all himself, carving and molding and shaping the components by hand.

They were accurate to the last detail.

His favorites were depictions of the ships he’d served on, particularly the ones he’d been fortunate enough to captain.

His attention riveted on the smallest of those ships, a beautiful replica of the spyship he’d commanded so long ago.

Spying had been interesting work to be sure, but due to its secretive nature, it got little public notice.

Piras had been a much younger, and admittedly, a more foolish man when he’d applied to leave that commission in favor of his first destroyer command.

He’d equated accolades and glory with accomplishment back then.

Spying offered nothing in the way of fame.

With the opportunity to play secret agent in his near future, Piras wished he had stuck with it.

Was he really up for such a mission? The danger to himself didn’t bother him as much as the fact that a crew was part of the mix.

Of course, they’d know what they were in for.

They would be trained spies themselves.

Still, he was an admiral. He would bear the responsibility not only for their success, but also for their safety.

Such ruminations led back to the obvious question of who Piras’s contact would be.

There was no point in wondering about that, he impatiently reminded himself.

He had risen in rank next to many men and captained many more.

His link to the Basma could be almost anyone.

More important was the question of how Piras would infiltrate the Basma and Holy Leader’s fleets.

How he would get the two men to trust him.

Obviously, he would play the traitor, but surely Maf would insist on keeping him where Piras could serve the revolt best – right where he was, in Fleet Headquarters, a member of the High Command.

As such, he had access to many top-secret operations and the movements of the Empire’s forces.

Just as Banrid had.

“Ancestors, no wonder we haven’t been able to gain the upper hand despite our larger fleet,”

Piras murmured. “Maf knew our strategies the moment we made them.”

It was sobering to think of all the information Banrid had fed the enemy. And all the intelligence Piras would be expected to give up in order to gain entry into the inner circle.

Make the decisions you must to gain Maf’s trust. The costs may be high, but do whatever it takes.

The grave way Hobato had uttered those words had informed Piras that the costs might be astronomical. Yet he couldn’t be intimating Piras give away everything.

A deep voice interrupted his thoughts. “Good day, Admiral Piras.”

Piras jerked and turned to see a hulking Nobek standing inside his office.

Despite an almost brutish facial structure, the other man somehow managed to make it attractive.

Broad forehead.

Lips curled in a near-smirk. Nose crooked from who knew how many fights. Blue-purple eyes that riveted on Piras in a knowing gaze. His muscular frame strained the red-trimmed fleet formsuit. Sleeveless, the uniform displayed his scarred arms to advantage.

Those arms ended in big hands. Big, capable hands, the fingers calloused so that even the gentlest touch had a rough aspect to it.

Piras slowly got to his feet and returned the other man’s bow. Swallowing his surprise, he said, “Captain Kila. I’d heard your destroyer had returned from the border.”

“So it has. Are you happy to see me?”

Shocked would have been a better description. Piras had not expected Kila to seek him out, not after the night they’d spent together a few months ago.

As always, he couldn’t help but compare this Nobek to Lidon. Piras compared every member of the warrior breed to his former lover. He had to admit, Kila stacked up pretty good. The sex they’d had had confirmed it.

Kila’s brow rose. “You look surprised that I’m here.”

Piras realized belatedly that he’d been silent for several seconds. “Shouldn’t I be?”

“You mean after our last encounter?”

Kila’s enigmatic smile deepened. Mocking, secretive, a little cruel…that smile drove Piras crazy. It was impossible to know what was going on in the man’s head when he looked like that. He said, “You gave me a lot to think about that night.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

Instead of answering, Kila called out, “Door close and lock.”

The mechanism obeyed him with a click. Piras frowned. He was Kila’s superior officer and they were on duty. The captain had no business acting like he owned the place.

With any other man, Nobek or not, Piras would have served him the sharpest side of his tongue. Not in a sexual manner either. He should be doing that with Kila now. The captain had caught him thoroughly off-guard.

That brought a wave of anger. They were in Piras’s office, not his sleeping room. He was not only an admiral, but a Dramok. In charge. In control. A man no one fucked around with despite Piras’s seemingly delicate build. Not even a musclebound Nobek trained to kill with his bare hands dared to cross him. He’d taken out more than one of their like before.

It was the verbal dressing down that Piras was truly known for, however. He was a legend in that regard. Ready to put Kila in his proper place, he opened his mouth to deliver an ear-scorching diatribe, one that would remove all doubt who was in command here.

Before he could, Kila strode up to his streamlined metallic desk and slapped a sound-blocker on its surface. Its hum filled the room.

Piras’s eyes widened in understanding. “You’re my contact for the mission.”

“Have you accepted it?”

“Not yet. You’re supposed to give me more information first.”

Piras pushed away the surge of disappointment that came with realizing this was strictly a professional meeting. But what had he thought it would be otherwise? He’d burned any personal, intimate bridges right away the last time he’d seen Kila.

If Lidon had taught him anything, it was to finish things quick, before love could suck out his soul.

It had been the right move, showing Kila the truth during their one night of passion. Piras had realized that the Nobek captain was as bad a bet as Lidon had ever been. For that reason, the Dramok had made things clear right away, making sure that nothing else would ever happen between them. He refused to wait in limbo for another man who would leave him when something better came along.

Dismissing the unwanted tug of regret that this was to be nothing more than an official visit, Piras settled back in his hover chair. He motioned for his visitor to sit in the one across the desk from him. Kila shook his head. “I’m not getting comfortable when it’s likely you’ll order me out in a few seconds.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I’m the one who recommended you for this shit storm of a mission. So, if you’re unhappy about that, I’m the man to yell at.”

His enigmatic, slightly mocking smile remained.

Piras scowled to hide the fact Kila had knocked him off-balance yet again. “Why? What makes you think I’d want a mission like this? More importantly, what makes you think the Basma will buy me as a traitor?”

“You fit the profile better than the other admirals.”

“Are you saying I come off as a turncoat?”

Fury at the intimation made his voice loud.

“Don’t be stupid, Piras,”

Kila said, jettisoning any attempt at protocol. Before the admiral could call him on it, he continued. “With Banrid in custody, the Basma will want someone near the top of the hierarchy in his pocket. You fit the bill.”

“No clan. No Matara. I got that.”

Piras stared into Kila’s eyes and discovered the man’s gaze was as intense as he remembered. He felt uncomfortable to know the Nobek was sizing him up, but looking at any other part of Kila would prove distracting. “You turned Banrid in?”

“No one knows that except the Fleet Admiral.”

“Are you actively spying now? As the captain of a destroyer?”

Kila grinned brightly, pleased rather than mysterious for a change. “It’s a good cover, isn’t it? I’m in the part of the fleet Maf recruits from rather than the one he views with so much suspicion. My entire crew is in on it too.”

“You don’t think Banrid will name you as a co-conspirator?”

Kila apparently decided Piras wasn’t going to throw him out on his ass, because he sat down. He propped his scarred arms on the desk and leaned towards him. “I happened to luck into discovering Banrid’s treachery through a purely chance overheard conversation.”

“You suck at false modesty.”

“I do, but in this case, it’s the truth. The Basma likes his secrets and tends to keep high-target operatives hidden from each other. Banrid has no idea I supposedly work for the enemy. I was fortunate to discover his dealings.”

“Not if Maf discovers how Banrid got caught.”

“Maf doesn’t know I sniffed him out. He won’t know his pet admiral is in custody until I tell him tonight, more than likely.”

Piras frowned. “You still haven’t told me how I fit the profile of a traitor.”

“Beyond having no Earther Matara and not scrambling for a clan to claim one? Oh, you’re prime material for the Basma’s cause, my dear admiral. You’re known as a man who lives for the glory of the Empire above all else. You keep your specific politics to yourself, however. Your adherence to the Imperial Clan and Royal Council is presumed, but you’ve made no declaration of such.”

As far as Piras was concerned, his loyalty should never have been questioned. It had not occurred to him that letting his actions speak for him might be construed any other way. Kila had an interesting take on his silence.

He decided to challenge him. “How do you know I’m not with the Basma already?”

Kila’s teeth flashed bright in his dark face. “Because you do like Earthers, particularly their women. Wasn’t I standing right next to you on my ship’s bridge the day we attacked Earth? I know I heard you say, ‘Save me a pretty one, Captain Tranis.’ Or words to that effect.”

He offered a low laugh that made Piras’s spine tingle. “I don’t blame you for the sentiment, you know. They are delicious little creatures, those Earther girls.”

Of course Kila would remember something like that. “I’m glad to know we agree on at least one thing. So, what is the specific mission?”

Kila’s smirk vanished at last. His voice turned cold and deadly. “Give the Basma a high-profile target. Something so damaging to the Empire or helpful to him that he’ll immediately welcome you into the fold.”

Piras mused over the proposition. He could do that with little problem. Once a decoy location was prepared, it wouldn’t be hard to send information on it to the enemy. The hard part was making the decoy look like a real objective, one worth taking.

However, it could be done. Kila might even be able to tell Piras what low-risk targets would interest Maf. “It sounds straightforward enough.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But it’s not quite so cut and dry as you’d think.”

His glower got even more intense. “We need to meet outside of here so I can give you all the details.”

“You’re hiding something,”

Piras accused.

Kila considered him for a moment. “Another reason I suggested you for the mission was because of your reputation as a genuine hard ass.

You do what has to be done, even when the cost is high. Including any cost to yourself. You can be merciless when it comes to pursuing such a goal. That’s the man we need dealing face to face with Maf and Copeland.”

“It almost sounds like you want me to assassinate them. I was under the impression I was to try to fuck up their fleet, not look for the chance to kill them.”

“You don’t want to cut those bastards’ throats? For shame, Piras.”

The Basma had set Kalquorians against Kalquorians. Numerous people were already dead because of his revolt.

Piras knew the best route to stopping the madness was to destroy Maf. He hadn’t killed many enemies in personal encounters, but as Kila said, he could do what had to be done.

“Don’t be an asshole. I’ll do the job set before me. No one should doubt that. When it comes to Maf, I’d be honored to murder the asshole for Kalquor.”

“That’s nice to hear. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get the opportunity. But you’re right, assassination is not your primary assignment.”

“So stop pussyfooting around about the mission, already. Tell me the end and I’ll supply the means.”

“You’ve never had a job like this one, Piras. I guarantee you that. You don’t want to hear about it here.”

Kila seemed determined to press the seriousness of the situation, as if Piras had ever hesitated in his duties before.

The admiral rolled his eyes at the overdone display. “Fine. Where do you want to meet?”

The leering grin returned, making Kila look as devilish as an Earther demon. It was an expression that made Piras squirm inside.

Rather than answer, the Nobek rose and turned the sound blocker off. He tucked the device in one of the pouches attached to his belt. As he headed for the door, he said,

“Your place for dinner will be fine, Admiral. I’ll bring a bottle of bohut. I like my ronka steak rare, by the way. Just show it a flame and leave it at that.”

With a laugh and a confident swagger that set Piras’s teeth on edge, Kila ordered the door open and left. It took several seconds before Piras could summon the sense to figure out what had happened. Once again, Kila had knocked him off balance.

Dinner tonight? With Kila? At his home? “Fuck,”

Piras breathed.

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