Defender (Battle Born Book 4) (7 page)

“I met Morgan once, but Nazerel brought her to me.”

Nazerel and Morgan were waiting for them in the hanger bay as Raylon and Garin climbed down from the
Phantom One
. Raylon clasped arms with Nazerel as he tried hard not to stare at Nazerel’s mate. Garin had told him that Morgan was director of the taskforce, so Raylon had expected someone more militant. She wore dress pants and a simple white blouse, but the body beneath was shaped for pleasure not combat. How did Nazerel keep his hands off her?

“This is my mate, Morgan.” Nazerel stressed the word mate loud enough to snap Raylon out of his inappropriate thoughts.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Raylon recovered enough to shake Morgan’s hand.

She smiled at him, apparently used to similar reactions. “Your ship is amazing. Will we be allowed to see her in action?”

“That’s up to General Nox.”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Garin evaded. “Let’s see how the morning progresses.”

Nazerel smiled. “Ever the negotiator.”

Morgan led them into the complex and they took an elevator down two levels. Raylon tried to keep track of where they were, but the corridors were identical, gleaming tile and recessed lighting, very institutional. He hadn’t realized the Bunker was so large or that Morgan had so many people under her command.

After arriving at a midsize conference room, they took their places around an oblong table. Morgan and Nazerel sat on one side, Garin and Raylon on the other. They were offered beverages and something called a “continental breakfast” but the arrangement still felt slightly adversarial.

Garin accepted a mug of steaming coffee, so Raylon followed his example. After taking only one sip from his mug, however, Garin dove right in to his lengthy explanation of what brought them to Earth. “As you’re aware, the battle born have become a state-sanctioned underclass on Rodymia. They’re used for menial labor and forced to bleed and die in wars that only benefit their elite masters. This sort of injustice has become intolerable.”

“At the risk of sounding like a callous bitch,” Morgan interjected. “That sort of thing has been going on for generations. Why now? What
specifically
made you throw down the gauntlet?”

A muscle near Garin’s jaw twitched, a sure sign he was agitated. “We’ve had a breakthrough with the transformation protocol. It’s likely, even probable, that battle born males will have access to their magic in the very near future.”

Raylon knew Garin had only intended to reveal that fact as a last resort. He’d counted on compassion and the human sense of justice to motivate Morgan’s involvement. Apparently, she was more interested in cold, hard facts.

“By transformation protocol, do you mean the sort of thing Sevrin Keire was attempting?” Morgan’s features tensed and her voice grew cold as she waited for Garin’s answer.

“The problem with Sevrin Keire was not her goals. It was the methods by which she was attempting to achieve them. She didn’t care who she hurt or whether or not each participant was willing. Those tactics are as intolerable on Rodymia as they are on Earth.”

Morgan’s expression remained stern and distrustful. Clearly, she wasn’t pacified by Garin’s words. “We spent months chasing Sevrin and her ‘boys’ all over this area. I lost good men in the fight to find and ultimately stop her. What assurances do we have that the current team won’t cross the line again? When people want something as badly as the battle born want this, right and wrong tends to blur.”

“Not this time,” Raylon insisted. “We’ve implemented checks and balances that prevent anyone from stepping outside of the approved procedures. No one will be forced to participate and everyone will undergo an extensive orientation before they’re allowed to give their consent. We’ll tolerate nothing less than full discourse.”

“What led to this breakthrough?” Nazerel shot a meaningful look to his mate. “What, or should we say who, is involved in this transformation study?”

Raylon watched the exchange closely, confused by their hostility. They were acting as if the transformation study was a personal slight. Nazerel had once been a Shadow Assassin, for gods’ sake. He’d been born into a society patterned after the battle born. Unnerved and not sure why, Raylon increased the sensitivity of his cybernetic eye until he could see the pulsing of blood in Nazerel’s neck. It wasn’t a foolproof way of detecting lies, but it allowed him to spot utter kaunashit.

“The captive your team rescued had a protein marker in her blood,” Garin was saying. “My scientists were able to determine that the marker appears when human genetics is mixed with Rodyte. In other words, the female was a hybrid.”

“So hybrid females are needed for the transformation to succeed?” A certain gleam in Morgan’s eyes, combined with her accelerated pulse, hinted that she knew the answer and a whole lot more. Was this some sort of test? Was she comparing what she knew against Garin’s claims?

As usual, Garin picked up on the subtlety. He didn’t need a cybernetic lie detector to see beneath a person’s façade. “Have you already been briefed on the specifics of the study? Your hostility is confusing.”

The only way that was possible was if someone from the
Intrepid
had contacted Morgan or Nazerel, but the scientists and medical personnel gained nothing by such disloyalty. Unless…

A door at the opposite end of the room flew open and an indignant Rodyte male strode into the room. Garin and Raylon shoved back from the table, but paused when neither Nazerel nor Morgan reacted to the interruption. Apparently, these guests weren’t unexpected. Following in the male’s wake was a tiny female with honey-blonde hair and strange golden eyes. They were both dressed in jeans and sweaters, but they were obviously not entirely human. The male pulled out a chair for his companion, but remained standing.

Morgan stood and motioned toward the newcomers, her expression unreadable. “This is Ulrik Tandori and his niece Berlynn. They’re here as official representatives of Tandori Tribe.”

Shit.
Raylon looked at the male more closely. Kotto had memory shared with Raylon, so he knew what Vinton Tandori looked like, or had looked like before his death. Ulrik was clearly a close relative. His wavy dark hair wasn’t quite as long as Vinton’s had been, but the strong jaw and purple-ringed eyes were identical.

The female, on the other hand, didn’t even look Rodyte. If she was Vinton’s daughter as the introduction implied, she was also the canine shifter from Chandar’s vision. Unless Vinton had more than one daughter.

“How’d you get here ahead of us?” Garin asked Ulrik. “What made you contact humans rather than me?”

“Morgan contacted me.” Ulrik finally pulled out his chair and sat next to his niece. He offered no other information as he stared down Garin in silent hostility.

“It’s my job to track alien activity on Earth,” Morgan reminded as she returned to her seat as well. “When the residence of a well-known alien leader is blown to bits, it sets off certain alarms.”

“If you’re harboring Milanni, I will show no mercy.” Ulrik’s purple phitons ignited, emphasizing the threat. “My brother was a pacifist, determined to maintain the ancient ways. I am more than ready for war.”

Surprisingly, it was Morgan who backed him off. “You agreed to remain civil. If that’s impossible in your current state of mind, we’ll adjourn, or you can leave Berlynn to negotiate in your place.”

“They weren’t involved.” Berlynn spoke for the first time. “Milanni was alone. I’m certain of it.”

“Then where is she?” Ulrik snapped. “Even your grandmother has been unable to
see
her.”

Garin watched the exchange closely, but even Raylon couldn’t decipher his thoughts. “Have you searched Outpost LA? She’s well-known in the pleasure district. Someone could be hiding her.”

“We’ve searched everywhere.” Ulrik leaned forward and animosity sparked between the two alpha leaders. It would take a strong and agile hand to keep these two in line. “The only place she could elude our seers is on a ship with covert shields. Do you happen to know where I can find one?”

Every word Ulrik spoke dripped with sarcasm and still Garin remained outwardly calm. “I know of two. She’s not aboard the
Crusader
, so that leaves the
Relentless
.”

“What female would be foolish enough to trust Akim Farmon? By now everyone has heard what he did to the harbinger. No one else will be foolish enough to willingly submit to his cruelty.”

“‘Willingly submit?’” Fury rolled through Raylon, propelling him to his feet. “You know nothing about it!”

“She’s a harbinger,” Ulrik snapped. “One of the best. She had to know what would happen.”

Raylon lunged across the table, but Garin caught his shirt with both hands and pulled him back. “She was not willing!”

Garin clasped Raylon’s shoulder, applying steady pressure until he sat back down. Shaking with suppressed rage, Raylon clenched his fists and glared at Ulrik Tandori.
Willing
? How many compassionless fools believed that nonsense? Chandar should have seen it coming, should have refused to serve Akim. Such ignorance was mind-blowing.

“You will not speak of the harbinger again,” Garin warned. “Her tragedy is intensely personal to both of us.”

“I apologize.” Tandori even managed to sound sincere. “I meant no disrespect to your friend.”

Raylon’s only response was a silent snarl.

After a tense pause, Morgan said, “To answer your question, Milanni might be the only female not horrified by Akim. I did some research and found out he was her mentor for several years. They know each other well. Or at least did before she moved to Outpost LA.”

“I was unaware of the connection,” Ulrik admitted with obvious reluctance. “Apparently, our search was a waste of time.”

Berlynn placed her hand on her uncle’s forearm, her voice low yet authoritative. “We have to focus on Akim or all our efforts will be a waste of time.”

Ulrik inclined his head, acknowledging her statement, so she removed her hand. “How in hells rings do we find him?” He posed the question to the table at large.

Garin shifted in his chair. His movements suspiciously close to fidgeting. Their inability to find Akim was an ongoing frustration. “We’ve been trying. The task is surprisingly difficult. And it’s not just the
Relentless
anymore. Akim installed his backup shield generator on one of his shuttles. This gives him maneuverability as well as speed.” Akim had used the shuttle to sneak past Lunar Nine’s defenses. Wisely, Garin kept that tidbit to himself. They’d taken measures to make sure it never happened again. That was all that mattered.

“How did you find the
Relentless
the first time?” Nazerel asked.

“With Pyre Sterling’s help,” Raylon admitted begrudgingly.

“She told us the frequency Akim was using to communicate with Quinton. We baited him into responding and followed the signal to the ship.”

“Can’t you just do that again?” Ulrik made it sound like it was the most obvious solution in all the known worlds.

“When a commander knows he’s had a security breech, it’s standard procedure to change all existing protocols,” Garin told him.

And just to make sure the meaning wasn’t obscured by military ease, Raylon clarified, “They haven’t used the frequency since, so we have two options.” Raylon looked at Berlynn, not yet ready to acknowledge Ulrik’s existence. “One of our harbingers could have another vision.”

“
One of
your harbingers?” Ulrik flared. “How many do you have?”

“How many seers are among Tandori Tribe and how long have your people been able to shapeshift?” Garin returned without pause. “Are you ready to start exchanging secrets?”

Berlynn’s shimmering golden eyes narrowed as she looked at Garin. “How did you know about the shapeshifters?”

They hadn’t been sure there was more than one until her question confirmed it for them. Unsure how much Garin wanted the others to know, Raylon let the general answer. “One of my harbingers witnessed the tragedy. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

Ulrik rested his forearms on the table, leaning slightly forward again. “Did this harbinger see where Milanni went after she murdered my brother?”

Raylon shook his head. “The vision occurred from your niece’s perspective. We know no more than you. The explosion was triggered by an energy beam, so Milanni escaped in some sort of ship. But all the harbinger saw was the beam.”

“That’s convenient,” Ulrik muttered, slumping back in his chair.

“What’s the other option?” Berlynn asked Raylon. Her back remained straight, her narrow shoulders squared, but pain and loss clouded her gaze.

“We can contact the Integration Guild and ask how to locate a ship equipped with covert shields,” Raylon explained. “The Integration Guild must approve all new technologies. They’d know about any potential weaknesses.”

“And why would they reveal such a weakness to a bunch of criminals?” Morgan’s tone was less cutting than Ulrik Tandori’s, yet the question held a wealth of meaning.

Had the humans learned about the price on Garin’s head? The Integration Guild hadn’t established their support for the rebellion, nor had they stated their allegiance to Quinton. As far as Raylon knew, the most powerful guild on Rodymia intended to remain neutral as long as possible. Which decreased their chances of helping a rebel. Raylon sighed. His mental rambling explained Morgan’s doubt.

“We wouldn’t be the one to ask for their assistance.” Garin looked at Ulrik meaningfully. “If I’m not mistaken, your sister has a direct link to the Integration Guild.”

Raylon had no idea what Garin meant. Still, he wasn’t willing to reveal his confusion to the others. Staying current on Rodyte happenings was almost impossible with everything he had to do in this star system. Luckily, Nazerel asked the question echoing through Raylon’s mind.

“What are you talking about?”

“Haven’s entire life is a balancing act.” Ulrik’s voice became a low rumble. “She’s technically a fugitive, just like us. The only thing that keeps Quinton from arresting her is Javin Aidentar.”