The Operative: Korvali Chronicles, #2

By C.A. Hartman

They'll face big adventures… and bigger dangers.

Eshel has cut ties with Korvalis, and is now an officer in the Corps.

The humans have proven they will protect him, that their loyalty extends further than Eshel could have imagined.

His continued rebellion has shaken up the entire Alliance… and now he's more powerful than ever.

But he remains the center of escalating tensions between the Corps, the Alliance, and the Korvali.

And the Korvali will never forgive Eshel or the Corps for what they've done…

Catherine has proven her worth to the Corps… and found a way to achieve her goals.

But a violent incident thrusts her into the perilous covert world of biocracking, where stolen genetic patents are bartered among Sunai criminals. 

A secret genetics project shows great promise for Catherine and Holloway… but it means risking their careers. 

And now she has a new enemy… one more dangerous than ever.

Then, something shocking happens that will permanently transform the political landscape for all.

If you loved The Refugee, The Operative is a must-read. Download it today and continue the adventure!

SERIES ORDER

The Escape (prequel, can be read anytime)

The Refugee (Book 1)

The Operative (Book 2)

The Forbidden Planet (Book 3)

• Language: English
• Publisher: 5280 Press
• Release date: May 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9780990391920

Book preview

1

Long-term space missions guarantee adventure. But adventure may not come in the form you expect.

---

– old Space Corps adage

---

Catherine Finnegan searched Suna’s evening sky, the reflection off the planet’s rings and its many moons offering her only illumination. At that time in the Katara sun cycle, only Revia and its silvery hue would offer direction. If only she could find it. The branches of the small thorny trees obscured the small moon, and she looked with increasing desperation until her eye began to sting from her dripping sweat. She gave it a vigorous rubbing, knowing that only made it worse.

Keep moving.

Ahhh, she cried out as a sharp pain pierced through her. A long thorn had punctured her shoulder, her own fault for continuing to walk while rubbing her eye. Hot blood coursed from the wound.

She cursed, stopping and hastily pulling off her pack to retrieve a bandage. She wrapped her shoulder tightly, the pain radiating down her arm and across her chest. She’d heard that the thorns of the spiri tree had a burning poison on them that took weeks to heal from, but she’d always assumed that was Sunai hyperbole.

Just then, she heard creaking and snapping. Nausea came over her; something approached from behind. She wielded her blade and whipped around, ready to face the aggressive, snaggle-toothed gogooi that wandered the highlands in darkness, looking for weak prey.

But it was a much smaller mammal, and Catherine felt her breath return to her, glancing around once more to ensure no gogooi lurked nearby. She grabbed her water and took a swig. It was nearly gone. A dread came over her as her sweat quickly turned to a chilly cold in the arid darkness.

Keep moving, C.

She hiked up beyond the tree grove and peered at the sky again. And there, close to the horizon, was Revia.

Okay. Now, find the Bonaga cluster. She searched the sky near Revia until she found the near-circular cluster of stars, and she headed in a new direction, the silhouettes of the thorny trees black against the warm moonlight.

As she hiked, careful to avoid the treacherous thorns, the pain from her wound spread further, intensifying until she winced. More sweat broke out on her forehead, despite the rapidly declining temperature. She had no contactor, no map, no tools… and only her pack with one jacket in it. And if more than an hour or two passed, that jacket wouldn’t be enough to ward off hypothermia. Not at that altitude. As Catherine put on her jacket, she began to shiver, unclear whether the spiri poison or the prospect of freezing to death was to blame. She took her auburn hair down from its ponytail, which offered her face and neck a bit of warmth.

After she reached the crest of a hill, she stopped and looked around again, the moonlight offering her a dim view of the surrounds. She glanced up at the Bonaga cluster and adjusted her path. Her dread grew. She was lost. Lost in the highlands of Jula.

Finally, she saw something: a flat area with no trees, appearing almost purplish in the moonlight. A clearing!

She made her way to the clearing. But as she stood there, nothing happened. She didn’t see anything—not a nocturnal creature, not even the movement of the distant trees from the cold breeze. She got colder and colder, her sweat like a moistened blanket on her body. Most of her torso throbbed and she began to shiver again. The nausea returned. For the first time, she felt scared as tears came to her eyes.

It wasn’t the right clearing.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. When she attempted a scream, only a squeak came out. Catherine went to strike with her right hand, but found it rendered mostly useless from the tree’s poison. Just as she went to headbutt her attacker, she was suddenly set free. She heard laughter.

Catherine turned around, the moonlight illuminating a silhouette of golden curls. Tom, dressed in field gear and laughing with abandon.

She shoved her muscular friend with her left hand, just hard enough to make him stumble. Not funny, Kingston. Despite her irritation with Tom’s bad joke, it couldn’t compete with the relief she felt.

Ah, you’re a big girl now, he chided. Congrats. You passed the test.

I didn’t think it would be that hard.

Yup. You don’t realize how dependent you are on technology until you don’t have it when you need it. Learning to find your way in the dark without a positioning device is an important skill. He peered closely at her. You don’t look so good.

Spiri thorn got me. It hurts like hell. She unzipped her jacket and showed him the bandaging.

That’s the only jacket you brought? For the highlands?

She nodded, knowing how foolish she’d been. I didn’t think I’d be out here this long. It was a lot harder than the climbing and ropes stuff, or navigating with a map and compass.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a hat. This’ll help. He glanced at her wound again. You’ll be alright for now. Vargas will give you something when we get back. Tom looked around. Let’s get moving. We need to hustle if we’re going to make it to the big event on time.

Catherine nodded and followed Tom as they began their long descent into Jula.

---

When Catherine arrived at the bridge ready room, it was already occupied with crewpersons dressed in their formals, filling the room with animated conversation. Captain Ferguson, unusually smiley that day, talked with Commanders Yamamoto and Ov’Raa as the other brass chatted amongst themselves. Tom, Snow, and most of the Weapons crew stood at the other end of the room, laughing loudly, presumably at one of Tom’s stories. And then she spotted Eshel, who stood quietly aside, merely observing all that was around him, until he noticed her. She smiled and nodded to him. He returned the nod.

Eshel’s stature, along with his tiny ears and webbed hands, still made him stand out among his human and Derovian peers, despite not wearing his usual robe. With his short brown hair neatly cut and his dress uniform perfectly pressed, Catherine thought he looked remarkably handsome. But she could never say so—not to him, not to anyone.

A couple of minutes later, a loud whistle sounded and everyone quieted down. Ferguson, her dark hair neatly pulled back to reveal streaks of peppery gray, looked at Eshel and beckoned him to join her at the front of the room, while everyone else spread out and stood around the rectangular table. After Eshel did so, she addressed the group.

"Officers and crewpersons, we are here on behalf of Eshel, who has been recommended for a commission with the Space Corps. Eshel came to us twenty months ago, and was quickly promoted to midshipman. He has served in Maintenance under Chief Petty Officer Selway, trained under Lieutenant Commander Tom Kingston in the Weapons section, and has become a vital member of Cornelia’s crew. He is the first Korvali to live among outsiders and to become part of the Orion Interplanetary Alliance. And now, Eshel has made history by becoming the first Korvali to become a Space Corps officer after completing his academy training with honors. Ferguson turned and looked up at Eshel. Eshel, as Captain of the SCS Cornelia, I grant you a commission with the Space Corps, with the rank of Ensign. She ceremoniously handed Eshel a new uniform, one that would have the single banded sleeves worn by those of his rank. Congratulations, Ensign." She saluted.

Eshel saluted in return. When everyone seemed to wait for him to speak, he said only, Thank you, Captain.

There was applause.

At ease, Ferguson said, and everyone broke rank to grab a cup of sparkling wine.

Another even louder whistle sounded. Tom, this time. I want to propose a toast, Tom’s voice rang out, holding up his metal cup and tapping on it with a knife. The crowd quieted. For the record, I’d like to take partial credit for this ceremony, as I’m the one who planted the idea in Eshel’s mind to undergo officer’s training. He paused and looked over at Eshel with a grin. But only Eshel could accomplish in less than two years what took the rest of us four. To you, Eshel. Tom raised his cup.

Thank you, Tom, Eshel said, raising his cup.

Hear, hear, everyone said.

The others turned to talk amongst themselves. Coran and Dorel, Eshel’s Derovian bunkmates, shuffled over to Eshel, gazing up at him with their big almond eyes.

Congratulations, Eshel! Coran said.

So very impressive to be commissioned so quickly, Eshel! Dorel added, gesturing with six-digit hands. Soon you will no longer share quarters with us, and we will have to visit your quarters to say hello!

Before they could go on, Chief Selway rambled up, looking almost out of place in his dress uniform, which bulged slightly at the seams where his round body filled it out. He stood at attention and saluted Eshel. Congratulations, Sir.

Eshel nodded to Selway. Thank you, Chief.

Selway nodded and moved on, while Coran and Dorel continued talking to Eshel. Catherine smiled at the spectacle, knowing Eshel was already more than uncomfortable with so much attention lavished upon him.

She made her way over to their group of friends nearby, who talked and sipped from their cups. Shanti gave a hard poke to Zander, who’d made some sort of joke about Eshel, while Snow, Tom, and the rest of the Weapons guys laughed. Middleton was nowhere to be found, but that wasn’t surprising. Middleton still hated Eshel, and Eshel thought little of Middleton, although both had managed to keep their distance and avoid further confrontation.

Do you guys remember when Eshel tasted his first beer? Tom said.

Zander snickered. Oh, yeah. He spit it on the floor! Remember his face? It was like he’d drunk engine grease!

Catherine smiled. Really? I’ve never heard that story.

Yeah, Snow scoffed. I’m sure he never spit out anything around you…

Oh, sure he did, she said. Remember when he tried your coffee? And a restaurant host in Viorov gave him a taster of some fermented root… I thought he was going to vomit.

I almost did, said Eshel, who had just walked up.

Upon seeing Eshel, Snow whispered something to Tom.

Oh, yeah. Right. Tom reached behind one of the chairs and pulled out a package wrapped in linen. He handed it to Eshel.

What is this? Eshel said.

A gift, Tom said. To celebrate your promotion. It’s from all of us.

Eshel removed the linen wrapping. It was a framed image. Eshel stared at it.

It’s from my birthday party, way back when on Derovia, Tom said. It’s the only image we have of us all together. You can hang it in your new quarters.

Thank you, Eshel said, examining the image.

Catherine glanced at the photo, immediately noticing herself sitting so close to Eshel. It was the photo Tom had shown Chima when they were in London. A sadness descended upon her.

She pulled Tom aside. Were you able to find out anything about the art?

The art?

The painting Eshel gave me after our trip to Mellon, Tom.

Oh yeah, yeah. He shook his head. I’ve asked around, C. No one’s seen it. And if they had, they probably wouldn’t admit it. Those shell paintings aren’t cheap. I doubt it lasted five minutes in the Free Box. He paused. Can’t you just get another one? The Sunai could have it delivered in a couple of days…

I want that one.

She sighed, still angry at herself for her stupid, impetuous choice to discard the painting Eshel had given her. It had to be somewhere, and she was willing to offer a lot for it if anyone could produce a lead.

Just then, Ensign Patrick Holloway approached Eshel, nervously sticking out his hand for shaking, then retracting it after realizing that a handshake, or any form of physical contact, would never be Eshel’s preference. He blushed and congratulated Eshel, then quickly walked over to Catherine.

I found three more genes you’ll want to see, Holloway said under his breath. I think they’re important.

Catherine nodded, trying to look casual. Let’s talk later, she muttered.

After chatting for a while, Catherine put her cup down, exhausted from her training and feeling pain and feverishness set in as Dr. Vargas’s medication began to wear off. She waved to everyone with her left arm, congratulated Eshel again, and turned to leave. Before she reached the door, she heard her name.

What is wrong with your arm? Eshel asked her. You are relying on your left hand.

Is it that noticeable?

Yes.

I got stabbed by a spiri thorn. In the highlands.

Eshel raised his eyebrows. Why were you up there?

Tom was showing me how to navigate by the stars. I asked him to, she added. I was curious. Her cross training activities with Tom had seemed to arouse Eshel’s curious side, and he’d been asking her more questions than usual about her training. He had no way of knowing it was a cover for her Clandestine Operations Officer training, but his questions forced her to deceive him. She disliked that.

That is wise, Eshel said. My father taught me celestial navigation. It is the only way the primitive tribes of the remote territories find their way at sea. He paused. The Calyyt have announced the dates for the Calyyt-Calloq Fights. It appears we will be encamped on the planet at that time. Have you decided whether you will take the rematch?

I made decision, today, she said in Sunai.

Eshel’s eyes narrowed. You are learning Sunai. Instead of being impressed, like she expected, he seemed suspicious.

Yes. Yamamoto say I must practice with other… who know Sunai.

Eshel watched her for a moment with his sea-colored eyes. You do not need ‘today’ in Sunai. If you do not specify a time or day, today is implied. He paused, resuming in Sunai. And what is your decision?

I take match. I train with Yamamoto, tomorrow.

Before Eshel could respond, Tom called out to them. Poker Friday?

Catherine and Eshel nodded.

---

The warm wind blew, and the remnants of ash from a recent volcanic eruption began to sting Catherine’s eyes. She shielded them with her hand, berating herself for forgetting her eyeshades. After months of Suna’s blazing heat, which at times became intolerable for anyone who wasn’t Sunai, the winds no longer blew burning hot. They’d turned cooler and gentler as Suna’s sun season took its slow journey into the pleasantness that would precede its frigid moon season. The crew had ceased complaining about the heat, appreciating midday temperatures that rarely got above 30 degrees.

She sat down on a stool and ordered seared gogooi. The meat tasted inordinately gamey, but she liked it nonetheless. She’d eat anything—anything at all—if it represented an alternative to the tiresome gruel they served on Cornelia. She glanced at the time; he was late. It wasn’t a good sign when he was late.

Snow soon emerged, his short sleeves revealing his tattoos and his dark eyes making contact with hers. He sat down next to her, kissing her and giving her a hug. Snow had hugged her before, during moments of difficulty. Those were the rare times Snow showed the part of him that lay under his sarcastic shell. But today, the hug and kiss were for show, to make any Sunai male nearby assume they were together, rather than suspect the truth, which was that Snow was returning from spending time with Jooni. Snow and Jooni had managed to keep their relationship secret for months… a triumph, considering the strictness of the rule and the sense of ownership Sunai males felt toward Sunai females.

Snow glanced at her gogooi and made a face. I would like kala, please, Snow said in clean, solid Sunai. The female who served them nodded, and within a minute gently set his clay cup in front of him.

Snow took a sip. Thanks for meeting me, he said quietly, glancing around.

They haven’t bothered you?

He shook his head. Not since that last time.

Several weeks prior, on his way back to Cornelia after a visit with Jooni, he’d been harassed by a couple of Sunai males. Someone knew of his dalliance with Jooni, or at least suspected it. The men had cornered and threatened him, but that was it. Since then, Tom, Catherine, or Zander escorted him anytime he went into Jula.

When they’d finished, their server asked for their IDs. Catherine searched for hers; it was gone. Shit, she muttered.

You forget your ID? Snow said. Don’t worry. I got it.

She shook her head. I think I left it at the shop… I bought a dress there.

Hey! they heard a voice call out.

Tom strode toward them, a grin on his face. You guys done? They nodded. Stay and have another. The music starts soon, he added, glancing at Snow.

Snow shrugged and flagged down their server.

I need to run and get my ID, Catherine said. I’ll be right back.

Catherine exited the eatery and quickly headed back toward the shop. The Katara sun had faded and the temperature had dropped, making it downright tolerable outside. The smell of the ash had diminished enough to again detect the pungent scent of the shrubs that inhabited the region. She looked around, realizing that even Eshel would find such temperatures pleasant.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind and strong arms encircled her middle, smashing her stomach and diaphragm so much that she found it difficult to breathe. She prepared a few of the numerous methods of defense she had at her disposal and started to execute them, but found herself surrounded by more assailants who restrained her head, one of whom covered her mouth with a big, scaly hand.

Sunai. That’s how a Sunai hand feels.

Unable to move, they lifted her so that she no longer stood, the lot of them carrying her and restraining her legs. She heard shouting from a distance, but the shouting ceased when one of her assailants bellowed a command of silence in a voice that was loud even by Sunai standards.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t move or wriggle her way out of the tight hold they had on her. Panic rose in her, as did a sense of overwhelming fury. Yet as she fought against the stronghold, she knew she was wasting her energy. So she stopped struggling and attempted to calm her mind. Then something hard hit the back of her head, catapulting her back into an infuriated state where the turbulence of her emotions took over again. She didn’t know if one of them had hit her or had accidently bumped her into something.

Before she could decide what to do, she was upright again as she felt her feet touch the ground. They released her. One of them, a deep scar on one side of his face that spanned his hairless scalp to his jaw, shoved her against an earthen wall. Free of her constraint, and able to breathe properly again, an acrid, stifling odor overwhelmed her. She glanced around; they stood in one of Jula’s culverts, where lava ran free after an eruption, where the brass made it clear one should never go. As she gathered a few more ideas for self-defense, five Sunai men surrounded her, two of them pointing weapons at her, their sensitive eyes hidden behind eyeshades and their bulky physiques making her feel quite small as they closed in on her.

The one who stood to her right approached her. He wore the rust-colored uniform of the military, but his decorations showed that his rank was below that of a Gro. His skin wasn’t so dark as the others, common among those from the southern regions. He touched her hair, and then gave it a strong yank, jerking her head sideways. A couple of the other men laughed and spoke among themselves in a dialect she didn’t understand. She wanted to beat them all senseless, or dispense one of Eshel’s special weapons. But as she searched for escape routes, it was with a sickening sense of dread that she realized she couldn’t do either. She could do nothing at all.

Yes, try to run, human female! said the pale one. His voice had a quieter, raspier quality than she was used to from the Sunai males. No human can outrun us, yes? You are not so very powerful now, are you? he taunted. Attempt your weak human defense and watch it fail!

What the fuck do you want? Catherine snarled.

Such foul words! said a second one, his blocky, dark head turning to look to the others. She behaves like male, pretends she is male. Pathetic.

Your needing five of you to intimidate me… she said. That is pathetic.

The pale one scowled and raised his chin. You may insult all you wish, may behave like you are strong. But Catherine Finnegan will give us what we seek. If you do not, we will tear out your throat, and you will never speak again. He put his large hand on her throat and applied pressure.

Despite the fear she felt, she raised her chin in defiance. I thought Sunai men never hurt females.

He removed his hand. We do not hurt true females, Sunai females. Human females, who behave like male, who attack Sunai male… they have no such protection.

She crossed her arms, looked at the others, and turned back to the pale one. What do you want from me?

He grabbed her hair again, so hard that she involuntarily cried out and retaliated with a punch to his throat. As he rasped in pain, she heard the blockheaded one grunt before she felt a blow to her cheek, hard enough to send her earthbound. Before she could get up, a boot stomped on her neck as the pale one jeered down at her.

The fury in her spread rapidly, and again she tried to calm herself. Something hot and liquid suddenly splashed all over her face, head, and shoulders, and all over the ground next to her. It was a muted brown, and it had a strange, icky odor. She blinked to keep it out of her eyes and sputtered to get it off her lips. She didn’t know what it was, but their laughter and cheering told her it wasn’t something good.

What do you say now? the pale one snarled.

Fuck you.

She felt another painful blow to her cheek. And everything went dark.

2

Catherine, a male voice said.

She opened her eyes. Through blurred vision, she saw a face too close to hers. She shoved the face away and quickly rose from her lying position. But once standing, she became so lightheaded that she stumbled and fell to her knees.

Catherine! the voice said again. It’s me! You’re okay!

She froze. The coolness of the floor and the nature of the voice somehow soothed her. She was in a familiar place. She was in sick bay.

The face came closer to her again. You’re okay. It’s me, Tom. Let’s get you back on the bed.

She felt someone reach under her arms and lift her back onto the bed. Her vision began to clear and she looked at Tom, whose blue eyes looked more concerned than usual. What happened? she said. The words came out almost too quietly.

You were attacked, said another voice.

She turned toward the voice… it was Dr. Pinkney, the one who’d treated her after the Calyyt-Calloq Fights, who often worked redeye shift and whom Eshel had spoken well of. Next to Dr. Pinkney stood Snow.

A rush of memories flooded her. Being constrained. Being in the stinky culvert. The taunting, the stuff they poured on her, the beating. She looked down; her clothing was stained with brown splotches that left a dried crust. She looked back at Tom.

You never came back to the eatery and you didn’t respond to contact, Tom began. So we went looking for you, including the shop where you bought that dress. We couldn’t find you, so I started asking questions. A Sunai woman and her husband said some guys were carrying a human woman. We called the Sundani. He paused, glancing at Snow. It didn’t take them long to find you. They said you were unconscious, and covered in…

In what?

In gogooi shit.

She glanced own at her clothing again, recalling the feel of it, the smell. She looked away and said nothing, anger building up in her