Page 43 of Revenge (Warriors of the Drexian Academy #6)
Chapter
Forty-Three
Tivek
I entered the officers’ lounge and took in the indistinct murmurs of conversation, clinking glasses, and subtle tension of the welcome reception.
Admiral Zoran and Commander Vyk stood near the observation windows, their imposing figures bracketing a shorter human in a crisp Earth military uniform.
The silvered hair and stiff spine told me it was General Bowman, Sasha and Ariana’s father.
Even from across the room, I could see the rigid set of the general’s shoulders and the way he held himself slightly apart from the Drexians.
Years as a Shadow had taught me to watch body language as closely as any words.
Torq and Volten had claimed spots near the bar, engaged in what appeared to be a polite conversation with a couple of Earth military adjuncts whose nervous glances around the dimly lit space suggested they were still adjusting to being surrounded by warriors who could probably break them in half without effort.
But it was the third grouping that drew my attention.
Kann, with his affable grin and characteristic directness, was speaking with a human who stood out among the military personnel because he was clearly not one of them.
He wore no uniform, though his dark suit fit him well and was no doubt expensive, and he didn’t stand as ramrod straight as the officers.
This had to be Earth’s Chancellor Morrison, the politician who won the election to represent the planet despite lacking military or diplomatic experience.
If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d risen to fame by doing something the humans called podcasting.
I studied the man’s jet black hair that was clearly artificial given the jowls on his face, the unnatural bronze of his skin, and a laugh that carried too loudly across the space. How peculiar that humans had chosen him, I thought as I observed him talking with Kann.
Supposedly, the Earth chancellor might be technically in charge of civilian leadership, but the military considered him a buffoon. Watching him now, I could see why. He dominated the conversation with Kann, seemingly oblivious to the way the human officers in the room were subtly avoiding him.
I circled the room stealthily, positioning myself to observe and overhear without appearing to do either. Chancellor Morrison made it easy to listen in to his conversation since the man had no concept of discretion or volume control.
“—and that’s why I told them, you can’t negotiate from a position of weakness!” he was saying to Kann, who listened politely. “Earth has to show strength, has to make it clear that we’re equal partners in this alliance, not weaklings begging for scraps.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me he was delivering this speech about strength to one of the most genuinely dangerous warriors in the room.
As a Blade instructor, Kann grappled daily and was known for his impressive skills with daggers.
Not only that, he’d been Inferno Force before returning to teach at the academy.
He listened to the human without reacting, which was a greater show of strength than Morrison would ever know.
I moved closer to Admiral Zoran’s group, arriving just in time to hear General Bowman’s clipped response to something Vyk had said.
“—understand your position, Commander, but Earth’s concerns about the tribute bride program remain valid. When human women are encouraged to leave Earth permanently, it raises questions about the true nature of this ‘alliance.’”
The way he said the word alliance, with barely concealed contempt, made my jaw clench. Vyk’s response was firm but measured.
“The program is entirely voluntary, General. Since the Reveal, no human woman has ever been coerced or deceived about what it entails. Many have found happiness and purpose that were denied to them on Earth.”
“That’s true,” a civilian Earthling said. “My niece volunteered and is happily married to a Drexian.”
General Bowman scoffed at this. “Or have they been brainwashed into believing that abandoning their home planet is noble?”
The civilian, surprisingly, did not capitulate to the general. “I, for one, am grateful for the technology the Drexians have shared with us.” He laughed. “And having new allies beats being subjugated to the Kronock.”
“We don’t know what would have happened,” Bowman said in a near growl.
Admiral Zoran stepped in before the conversation could escalate further. “Perhaps we should focus on our joint successes rather than rehash policy disagreements.”
“Or maybe we should discuss Earth’s independence from alien interference,” Bowman said in a low voice that was mostly swallowed as he took a sip of his Noovian whiskey.
The civilian thumped the general on the back, making me think he was a person of some status. “I think interference is too harsh of a word, don’t you, Marcus?”
At least not all humans were as opposed to our alliance as Sasha and Ariana’s father seemed to be.
I noticed more than one amiable conversation between the Earth officers and Drexians with genuine smiles and easy banter.
If everyone had been so hostile, I would have been concerned about continuing relations with the planet.
I continued prowling the perimeter, wondering where my brother was and why he was missing this chance to get to know Sasha’s father.
Not that I blamed him entirely. Not only was General Bowman a hard man to be around, his daughter had clearly captivated Deklyn.
I knew firsthand that love had a way of scrambling even the most disciplined warrior’s priorities.
My mind flitted to Morgan, with whom I’d share a bed later that night.
If things weren’t so settled and comfortable between us, I might not concentrate on gathering intelligence.
But Morgan knew the truth about me and understood that being a Shadow was still a big part of my life.
She didn’t know that I was currently gathering information for Sasha and Deklyn instead of the Shadows, but I knew she would understand.
Chancellor Morrison’s laugh boomed across the room again, and I drifted back toward his conversation with Kann.
“—told my military advisors that sometimes you have to make hard choices for the greater good.” He rocked back on the heels of his dress shoes, and I couldn’t help noticing that they were unusually high, giving him added height.
They did not lift him enough to make him as tall as any of the Drexians, though.
“Can’t let sentimentality cloud your judgment when you’re dealing with matters of planetary security. ”
Something cold slithered down my spine. The casual way he dismissed “sentimentality” in matters of life and death and the obvious pride he took in making “hard choices” gave me pause.
Someone who’d never risked his own life or had to make any kind of personal sacrifice was exactly the type who might not think twice about condemning a soldier to certain death to make a political point.
“The Drexians value individual lives highly,” Kann observed, his tone carefully neutral. “In Inferno Force we often say, you go, we go.”
“Inferno Force?” Morrison wrinkled his nose. “A bunch of space cowboys, if you ask me.”
Kann bristled noticeably, and I braced myself to rush in and save the human from being throttled. But Kann wrestled his temper and clenched his jaw. “I thought humans loved cowboys.”
The Earth chancellor laughed as if Kann had said something particularly funny. “We do, we do. But even cowboys know when to thin the herd.”
Kann took a long swig of his Cressidian gin. “I guess as chancellor, you have to be the one to make those calls.”
Morrison shifted from one foot to the other. “I have an advisory council, of course.” He winked at Kann, as if the two were sharing a secret, “but the buck stops with me.”
The words confirmed my growing suspicions. This man could easily be manipulated into believing that abandoning Sasha would serve some greater purpose. He might even convince himself that sacrificing her was noble rather than callous, especially if he was told it was for the greater good.
But was he shrewd enough to orchestrate such a plan himself, or was he simply a useful tool for others with more strategic minds?
As the reception continued, I watched the subtle power dynamics play out.
The Earth military officers clearly had little respect for their civilian leader, but they never openly mocked him.
General Bowman, in particular, seemed to work very hard to maintain a facade of support while his body language screamed derision.
The pieces of a larger picture were forming in my mind.
A weak civilian leader who could be manipulated into making decisions others didn’t want to assume could be a very dangerous thing indeed.
Especially in alliances. I saw that Earth might not be the trusted ally it once was.
Not if its leader was so weak and foolish.
The question wasn’t whether Earth’s leadership had betrayed Sasha. I still didn’t know whether someone had acted out of cold calculation or tragic idiocy.