Ronan: Ziva Payvan Book 3 (24 page)

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Tarbic Residence

Salex, Haphez

“It’s Payvan. Put me through.” Ziva held the communicator away from her ear and rolled her eyes as the voice on the other end of the transmission let out a coy chuckle. “Damn it, Cole, just do it.”

His laugh trailed off and she waited in silence for several moments before Tobias came on. “Yes.”

“It’s time,” she said. “Ronan’s people are here. Head for Haphez, and I’ll contact you if there are any developments.”

“We’ll be there,” Tobias said, ending the transmission abruptly.

It was all that needed to be said, and in a way, Ziva was glad. She hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him Ronan was part of the Resistance, and she wasn’t sure how he’d take it. Niio was independent and nearly as fanatical about remaining that way as the Haphezians were. Ziva doubted Tobias had any interest in involving his small army in Resistance-versus-Federation matters. On the other hand, Ronan’s people
had
killed members of the Niiosian Mob, and the Resistance represented a direct threat to that independence he craved, so maybe there wouldn’t be a problem motivating him after all.

She turned and looked across the parlor at Aroska, who stood over the table staring vacantly at all the information scattered across it. The viewscreen on the wall behind him displayed still images of the missing ship provided by the Salex office, but he no longer paid them any mind. They’d revised their strategy a bit; in hopes of finding clues about where the ship had gone, they were now attempting to figure out where it had come from, where it had been since they’d picked up its emissions signature near Bectin. The task would have been a lot simpler if they had all of HSP’s databases and computing power at their disposal. Ziva added that to her ever-growing mental list of things that made her unhappy about her current predicament.

She returned her attention to her communicator and sighed before forcing her fingers to input a comm code she’d had no intention of ever calling again. She’d entered Taran Reddic’s code into her own device while on Aubin, mostly in case she ever needed to remind him who was in charge again. The thought of actually using it to strike up a conversation with the man seemed absurd.

It took a while for him to answer. “Go for Reddic.”

“Hello, Taran,” she said, unable to help but address him in the same manner as she had on Aubin.

“Go to hell,” he growled.

The transmission ended before Ziva could say another word. She stood there staring at the communicator for a moment, contemplating whether or not to try again. To her surprise, the device chirped and the screen lit up, displaying the very code she had just called. She lifted an eyebrow and accepted the message.

“That really wasn’t very polite,” she said.

“Payvan.” Rather than Reddic, Ziva found herself listening to that woman who had been with him. Mae something. “What do you want?”

“Where are you?”

Based on the long hesitation before Mae spoke again, Ziva imagined the question had caught the woman off guard. “On our way to Chaiavis to search for signs of Ronan. Why?”

“You won’t find anything there,” she answered. “You can bet that warehouse is long gone. But I know where you’re guaranteed to find something. Remember the attack on our military base Devani Reddic told you about? It’s Ronan. It’s the Resistance. They’re coming after us.”

Mae went silent again, and Ziva could hear soft murmuring as something was discussed in the background. “The Federation can’t get involved in matters on independent worlds,” she finally said.

“I’m not asking the Federation to get involved,” Ziva snapped. “I’m doing you a courtesy here, telling you about this because you’ve also had people fall victim to Ronan. I’m not even asking for help. I’m only asking that the Durutians as a people take action.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’ve got a formidable army. Use it to fight for yourselves for once, not just the Federation or whoever else you’ve got your people loaned out to.”

Ziva heard a man’s voice say something in the background. “Why should we help you after what you’ve done to us?” Mae said.

“You shouldn’t, you’re right. But I told you, you’re
not
helping us. You’re helping yourselves. The Resistance is as much of a threat to you as it is to us. The Federation is what controls our independence, brings balance and order to the galaxy. If Ronan were to take control, all of that will be compromised.” She hesitated for a moment. “We’re dealing with nostium here, okay? That’s what the gas is, and they’re testing it on us. It could be why they took your people, too. The Resistance is a lot more powerful right now than anyone realized.”

The silence on the other end of the transmission lasted so long this time that Ziva checked to see if the call was still live. “You struck me as being the voice of reason, Mae,” she continued. “There’s more at stake here than our differences. Think about this. I hope you’ll make the right choice.”

This time it was Ziva’s turn to end the transmission without warning. She clenched the device in one hand and massaged her forehead with the other, wondering what the chances were of winning any sort of battle with the Resistance without help. She wasn’t sure how large Ronan’s army was. A fleet she could live with, though the thought of all the enemy soldiers being Nosti gave her chills. But if the Resistance was combining firepower from all their inhabited worlds, that would be a problem. Granted, the attack on Na had only affected a tiny fraction of the Grand Army’s soldiers so her people still had a significant force at their disposal, but with the Royal General incapacitated, she knew morale would be low. Tobias’s men would make a valuable contribution, albeit a small one. Having a battle-ready civilization like the Durutians on their side would certainly help.

“Will they come?” Aroska asked, still staring down at the table.

“I don’t know,” Ziva said.

“Was that Reddic or that
shouka
who knocked me out?”

“Believe it or not,
she
may be our best shot at getting the Durutians on board.” She sighed. “I’m beginning to think we know more than they do about the whole situation. They were on their way to Chaiavis to look for that warehouse Kat told us about. I don’t think they know anything about the development of a new nostium formula.”

“To be fair, we only know it’s nostium because of you,” Aroska said, finally looking up. “The same goes for that Resistance agent. Just picture it; if you hadn’t realized who he was, he’d probably be sitting in a holding room restrained only by a pair of reinforced handcuffs and nobody would have a clue what kind of damage he was capable of causing.”

A quiet knock cut Ziva off before she could respond. Sedna appeared in the parlor doorway, eyes still puffy but face still dry. Her shoulders sagged and she wasn’t even trying to conceal the trembling in her hands, but her voice was surprisingly steady when she spoke.

“Sorry to interrupt. I’m putting some food out for the little ones. You’re our guest, Captain Payvan – will you join us for dinner?”

Ziva froze, clenching her jaw to keep her facial expression from changing. She still felt her eyes widen a bit, and the nervous energy that coursed through her made the hairs on her arms stand on end. She’d done well enough so far; she and Aroska had spent the entire afternoon secluded in the parlor and she’d managed to avoid dealing with any of the other Tarbics. The thought of sitting down at a dining table face to face with the family of one of her victims was unbearable.

“I, ah…”
Get a grip, Payvan. What’s wrong with you?
She felt herself start to sweat and her eyes shifted to Aroska.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, we were just about to head back out to town. We thought it might be good to check out the abduction site again and see if anyone is hanging around now that it’s dark.”

His words caught Ziva by surprise just as much as they did Sedna. The woman looked perplexed for a moment but shrugged. “You sure?” she said. “Don’t want to grab a bite first?”

Aroska shook his head and picked his jacket up from where he’d tossed it onto the couch, slipping it on before handing Ziva her own. “It’s fine. Shouldn’t be gone too long, but don’t wait up for us.”

He placed a hand on Ziva’s shoulder and guided her out of the parlor and through the living room to the front door. She pulled her jacket on and followed him to the car. As glad as she was to get away, confusion still gripped her mind and she felt a wave of inexplicable anger swelling up inside her. “What’s going on?”

“You needed to get out of there,” he replied matter-of-factly, gesturing toward the passenger door as he slid into the pilot’s seat. “Besides, I still owe you a meal after Dakiti.”

Ziva hesitated a moment, part of her pleased that he’d been able to perceive her discomfort and part of her wondering why he’d bothered to do anything about it. The problem with his family was
her
problem, something she was responsible for working through on her own as far as she was concerned. Involving himself in her struggle would only distance him from the people he’d finally managed to connect with again.

She
was
hungry though, so she was glad he’d renewed the offer he’d made after bringing her Emeri’s pardon document. She got in the car and rode in silence until they came to a stop in front of a small restaurant not too far from the plaza they’d been investigating mere hours before. It was packed with other tourists having dinner, but they found an empty table near the back and seated themselves, Ziva keeping her eye on the front door and Aroska keeping his on the rear.

“Maston and I have been here a few times since I’ve started coming out here,” he said absentmindedly as he touched the controls to display the menu. “Their warco stew is pretty good. Not as good as yours or Marshay’s – a little spicy for my taste – but decent.”

They stared at the menu without speaking for several minutes, eventually placing two orders for the warco stew and fresh govino juice. The food was delivered within moments by a sleek serving bot, a far cry from the rusty old one they’d encountered in the café aboard the transport to Chaiavis.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Ziva said, methodically scooping at the stew to help it cool faster. “I would have been fine.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” Aroska said with a cynical chuckle. “You would have done everything in your power to make sure everyone
thought
you were fine. You’re the one who told me you want to be the only person who knows you’re afraid.” He began stirring his own stew. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I still owe you dinner.”

“You don’t owe me
anything
,” Ziva muttered.

He was quiet for several seconds. “Actually, I do,” he said, staring down at his dish. “I never did thank you for…for saving me from Saun. I know I’m the one who fired the final shot, but when you said something about – how did you put it – ‘taking Saun out before she could blow my head off,’ it almost made me sick. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I was only alive because you’d once again managed to hurt someone I…loved. Now I feel like it was wrong of me to just ignore that.”

Ziva thought back to their charade on the riverbank at the relay station outside Haphor. He’d confessed later that subconscious anger about Soren’s death had made it easier for him to pull the trigger, so she guessed there’d also been a measure of genuine bitterness behind the comment he’d made about her shooting Saun.

“She was special to you.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “A lot of women have come and gone in my life, and I used to be fine with that. But when I met Saun, it was the first time I’d ever really hoped for something more, you know?”

Ziva lifted an eyebrow and lowered her gaze.
Not really
, she thought.

Aroska shook his head. “Right, I forgot you have no concept of emotional attachment.” He stuffed a spoonful of stew into his mouth.

The only response Ziva could muster up was a half-hearted scowl.

“I was devastated after I thought I’d lost Tate and Jole,” he continued. “Somehow, working with Saun in the Solaris Control Unit made everything a little better. Life was almost okay again, and even though my goal had been to get back into ops, all I wanted when I got assigned to your team was to go back to the SCU. Everything about her just seemed so…authentic, so sincere.” He paused a moment, his amber eyes burning with anger. “And then to find out it was all a lie, that she was probably the
least
sincere out of all of them…I guess I just don’t know what’s real anymore.” There was silence for several long seconds before he scoffed and let his hand fall to the table, rattling their utensils. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this.”

Ziva wasn’t either. She blew on a spoonful of stew before taking a bite, savoring the salty taste of the meat. She was terrible at giving advice – she thought that had been established during their conversation on Kat’s balcony – and her only real interpersonal talent was lending an ear. “Because you needed to let it out or it was going to eat you alive?” she suggested.

That prompted a hint of a smirk and the hard lines across Aroska’s forehead began to fade. “Maybe so.”