Dragon's Promise: The Dragon Corps, #5

By Natalie Grey

Book 5 in the DRAGON CORPS series by Natalie Grey, author of SHADOWS OF MAGIC and the TRIALS & TRIBULATIONS series in the Kurtherian Gambit Universe!

 

New to the series? Start with DRAGON'S COVENANT!
 

The Warlord of Ymir has been captured, and justice will be served for the unspeakable acts he has committed. Not everything is as it seems though.

 

Nyx has taken temporary command of the Ariane while she waits for the decision on whether or not she will be promoted to commander, with a Dragon team of her own. A chance encounter with her best friend's younger sister may cause a hitch in that plan. A plan that involves taking down one of the Warlord's associates, who might be a high-ranking politician within the Alliance.

 

Dragon Team 9 is developing a certain reputation.

 

Over on a fabled resort planet, though, Tera is unsure what to do with her life after helping to take down her own father, while Aryn studies for her piloting exams and Talon Rift faces a challenging mission like no other: taking a vacation.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phix Publishing LLC
• Release date: Feb 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393880516

Natalie Grey

Natalie Grey grew up pretending to be a knight, a mage, a jet-setting international assassin, and, occasionally, a shape-shifting dragon. After reading everything she could get her hands on, she eventually started writing her own stories full of what-ifs and far-fetched occurrences. Born in New England, she currently resides with her two German Shepherd mixes in the frozen wilds of Minnesota.

Book preview

Prologue

C ommander Alvarez, the Director is ready to see you now. The man’s voice was smooth, well-suited to the offices with their luxurious oak and thick carpets. Commander Alvarez?

Hmm? Nyx looked up and curved her lips in an automatic smile. Of course. She took one last look at the gardens, richly green and sunlit with the distinctive blue cast of Seneca’s central star, and then she crossed the room to the thick door that the Director’s assistant held open for her. Thank you.

He gave a small nod and closed the door behind her.

What Nyx expected, she was not sure. A man bent over his desk and hard at work, someone who would make her clear her throat to get his attention. Or someone, perhaps, like Aleksandr Soras, who had been the last person to hold this post. Aleksandr would have opened the door himself to welcome her into his office, smiling and shaking her hand, asking a question about her latest mission that demonstrated he had read the mission brief; it was a transparent pattern, but one that still showed attentiveness.

Not for the first time, Nyx thought that it was hardly a surprise that they had all missed the warning signs of just who and what Aleksandr was. Any number of people had pointed out that the head of Alliance Intelligence was not a likely suspect to be a despotic warlord, but Nyx had long felt that she should have seen some hint of it in his demeanor. A coldness, perhaps. Sociopathic tendencies.

Her lips compressed in a thin line. She did not like to remember that failure any more than the rest of them did.

Do you not approve of Mr. Soras’s replacement, Commander? The man behind the desk raised his eyebrows at her expression. He was about 5’6", she estimated, and quite trim in his blue suit. The faintest hint of grey showed in his brown hair, and his eyes were an odd shade of pale blue but were alight with intelligence—and humor.

No! No. Nyx shook her head. A faint flush touched her cheeks. I apologize. Recalling herself hastily, she placed the folder with her dossier on his desk and saluted. Commander Melissa Alvarez, sir.

Director John Hugo, he replied easily. Please, sit. Can I get you some coffee?

Yes, please. Coffee, for some reason, did not travel well in hyperspace, and Nyx made sure to drink as much of it as she could on any shore leave. She laid rested her arms lightly on the arms of the chair, her back straight, and watched the man as he prepared the tray of coffee. He did not seem tense, as if he were about to offer a reprimand.

But why else would she be here, sweltering in her dress uniform? When he returned, she took the cup and shook her head at the offer of sugar and cream, trying not to close her eyes in pleasure at the first sip of coffee. Director Hugo, it seemed, drank the very finest coffee.

A connoisseur, he said in evident appreciation. He sat behind the desk and smiled at her again. So. You’re probably wondering why you’re here.

Yes, sir.

Upon taking this post, and in light of recent events, I thought it best to review … everything. He pulled the folder toward him and flipped it open, perusing the data there with a familiar eye. He looked up, those pale blue eyes piercing. Especially the Dragon Corps.

Nyx put her cup back on its saucer, suddenly very aware of the fact that she had violently pursued this man’s successor across most of human-occupied space, in direct defiance of orders. She bit back the urge to swallow, and said nothing. She would let this man lead the conversation, and see where his thoughts lay.

He smiled at her silence. I doubt you would be surprised to know that a good deal of senators have asked that I rein in the Dragon Corps. They were … shall we say, unsettled? Yes. Unsettled by your commander’s defection.

Sir, Major Rift is— Honorable. Incorruptible. Dedicated. But he did not give her a chance to say any of those things. He raised one hand and she fell silent.

You misunderstand. For a moment she saw a gleam of something that might be humor. "That simply gave me an excellent list of people to investigate."

Nyx choked on her coffee. When she looked up, she saw that it was definitely humor in his eyes.

His smile faded to contemplation. As it happens, I was most impressed by the Major’s dedication in the face of rampant corruption and nepotism.

Nyx raised her eyebrows.

And so I thought it would be informative to look at his crew. The director stood and paced to the window, hands behind his back. "And I found a very interesting thing. Were you aware, Commander, that the crew of the Ariane is more decorated by far than any other Dragon team?" He turned his head, and again those blue eyes assessed her.

I was not, sir. Nyx realized that it had never occurred to her to check that piece of information. It was classified, of course, and not within her purview, but it would have been easy enough to obtain with one of the best hackers in the galaxy on their crew.

The quirk of the Director’s mouth showed her that he knew the drift of her thoughts, but he said merely, I do not speak, it should be clear, of commendations recommended by the mission commanders. I speak of commendations reviewed and awarded by Intelligence and the Navy.

Nyx nodded and took a sip of coffee. It didn’t much matter to her either way, and none of this was alleviating her curiosity.

"One name that came up often, even compared to the rest of the Ariane’s crew, was Commander Melissa Alvarez." The director smiled as he took his seat again.

Nyx blinked. The name sounded strange to her ears, and between this meeting and the trial, she had heard it quite a lot on this shore leave. She answered now to the name she had earned within her crew, and it had been years since she had heard her given name spoken aloud. ‘Melissa Alvarez’ was a young woman with a rifle and a reckless desire to forget everything about her former life. She was painfully earnest and, as far as Nyx was concerned, long gone.

The Director misinterpreted her grave look. Do you dispute your commendations, Commander?

No. Nyx shook her head and met his eyes steadily. It was not arrogance. She was a Dragon; even without commendations, she would have been one of the best of the best, a statistical improbability in skill, speed, and intelligence. She smiled and looked down at her cup. I’m rarely called Melissa Alvarez anymore.

Ah, yes. Do all Dragons earn…. He searched for the word.

Call signs, Nyx supplied. She could see the yearning on the man’s face. He had read everything that he could on the subject, but he would never truly be a part of her world and he knew it. And no. Some keep their names.

I see. The yearning was gone in an instant and professionalism returned. Well, Commander. The long and short of it is that your record is impressive. We could review your accomplishments, but I see no need to waste any more of your shore leave than necessary. He leaned forward on the desk, clasping his hands. As I mentioned, I was far from disturbed by your commander’s actions during the trial of Director Soras, and I was able to consult with him earlier this morning about the future of the Dragon Corps.

Nyx nodded. That much, she knew. Talon had mentioned to her a few days ago that he was meeting the new director. He hadn’t yet returned to the Ariane, but she had simply assumed he was enjoying his extended shore leave with Tera, and she hadn’t bothered him.

Talon wasn’t very good at relaxing—she wasn’t going to interrupt him when he finally seemed to be getting the hang of it.

Hugo was watching her closely. Now, as you may or may not be aware, the Major has requested an extended leave.

Nyx stilled; icy fear touched her veins. There had been questions amongst the crew, of course, but no one had truly believed that Talon would leave. Had the Director lied? Was he going to bow to the senators and dismiss Talon while trying to pay lip service to the idea of respecting the man?

If so, he was no fit man to lead the Dragon Corps.

Commander Alvarez. The Director smiled. I assure you, nothing improper is afoot. The Major requested an extended leave for personal reasons.

"Then who will command the Ariane?" It was not her question to ask, but Nyx was not about to waste any more time waiting. There would be dozens among the Dragon Corps who would be put forward for this.

You, Hugo said simply.

"What?" Nyx felt her polite smile die and she only just kept her mouth from dropping open.

The Director smiled. When I spoke to him, the Major recommended that you be evaluated to lead your own team of Dragons.

I…. Nyx closed her mouth and tried to think of what to say. Me?

Yes. The Director smiled at her. "As the Major is on extended leave, he has suggested that you take his place for the duration of this evaluation. Commander, it gives me great pleasure to turn the Ariane over to you. His smile widened. Enjoy the rest of your shore leave."

1

The planet Valentia had one of the best, most exclusive resorts in human-occupied space. When Tera suggested it—having money to burn, even after funneling most of it back to Ymir—Talon had agreed without hesitation. He’d been even happier when she suggested that perhaps Cade and Aryn could join them on their vacation, as a peace offering of a sort to Cade.

Cade wasn’t best pleased to be doing anything even adjacent to Dragon business, something Tera seemed far quicker to understand than Talon.

"We all came out of the last mission all right," Talon had said on board the Io a few nights earlier. He was nettled by Cade’s demeanor. I don’t see what’s so hard for him to understand about that.

Tera, to his surprise, had looked over at him gravely. You didn’t think everyone would come out of it all right, she observed. And everyone didn’t. People died on Ymir during that push. And … after.

She didn’t say the names ‘Sphinx’ or ‘Meph.’ No one said those to him.

And Tera didn’t understand that. She worked alone. She didn’t know what it was to have a crew, to have them follow you into battle and have some of them die for it. She had come to stand behind him where he was staring out the windows of the Io, and she had wrapped her arms around his waist tentatively.

She didn’t speak for a long time, and neither did Talon.

"He wants to protect what he has, Tera said finally. Where Dragons go … they cause trouble."

I think I can keep from causing trouble for two weeks. Talon unwrapped her arms from around himself. He wanted to go to bed. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be ragingly drunk.

No. You can’t. She leaned against the window to look at him, arms crossed. If you see something wrong, you can’t just stand by. Unexpectedly, she smiled. It’s one of the things I love about you.

His pride was thawing in slow inches. He felt himself smile. I love the same thing about you.

Now her smile disappeared. I’m not that way. I’m much more … ‘greater good.’ Finger quotes marked the last two words. Or maybe not. I don’t know. Turns out a lot of the morals my father raised me with were bullshit, or something.

It was a terrible joke, but Talon smiled at it anyway. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to reassure her. He knew she didn’t want that.

Re-evaluating your entire moral structure—after finding out that your father was a mass-murdering dictator, no less—wasn’t something anyone else could do for you.

"Anyway, Tera said, after a moment, Cade knows that spending any time around us is a risk. Even carrying you from place to place."

Okay. Talon gave her a look and went to pour two glasses of wine. He slid one across the table to her. "So riddle me this: why, then, did you invite him to spend more time with us?"

Tera smiled as she took a seat at the table. "Psychological warfare. You haven’t seen this place, Talon. Its super romantic. The beach, the rooms, the gardens. Aryn’s going to love it. She leaned forward to give him a conspiratorial smile. And then Cade’s going to love us."

Talon burst out laughing as he took the chair across from her. He swirled the wine in his glass. All right, you have good plans. Fair enough. Wait, when did you see this resort? I thought your father had private estates.

Very private, she agreed. Everything, private. No, I did a job here.

And your takeaway from that was … that this was a romantic place….

I requested a different room.

Talon put his face in one hand. He was trying not to laugh, because laughing at that somehow felt very wrong, but he wasn’t quite managing. He looked up finally and nodded, just barely managing to keep it together. I see.

She shrugged with a wry sort of smile. Tera had very few qualms about the life she led as an assassin.

So, that’s my plan. Aryn and Cade get a honeymoon—

"Did they get married?"

"A figurative honeymoon. They get to be all romantic, Aryn gets to study for her piloting exams while in the very lap of luxury, she passes her piloting exams, Cade decides we’re not such a bad influence. That’s my hope, anyway. It seems likely. With a small chance that Aryn is inspired to become an assassin instead."

Talon just barely avoided snorting wine up his nose. He gave her a look.

"Like I said, a small chance. I was just mentioning it in the interests of accuracy. She reached out to clink her glass against his. You know, you should get Lesedi to set up shop on that ship. It would make her infinitely harder to find."

Cade would never allow it.

Baby steps. Anyway, Aryn loves taking in strays. I can tell. She shrugged. "Smile, she instructed a moment later. You’re going to love Valentia."

Talon had believed her. When Tera had suggested the concept of a vacation, he’d been all for it. As far as he was concerned, she needed the rest after going through the absolute circus of her father’s trial—and coming to terms with who he was. She had no idea what she wanted to do now, and it would be good for her to be able to figure that out without being surrounded by reminders of her old life.

He, for his part, requested the time off with a sigh of relief, knowing that on some level, he also needed to recalibrate before heading back into the field. The Warlord had been his opponent for so long, and had cost him so much, that he knew living in a world without this man was going to be an adjustment.

But he’d already been going stir-crazy before they even landed. This was the longest he’d gone without training, without planning a mission or executing on it, without doing anything he’d consider useful.

And now that he was here, it turned out that the place was eerie quiet.

Oh, it was beautiful. It had keyhole doorways set in inlaid walls, marble floors, and every window filled with carved sandalwood screens or trellises of flower vines. The sea breeze filtered through just enough to lift the heavy summer air, and the sound of the waves outside was incredibly calming.

There was also not a single person in sight.

Cade came to stand at Talon’s shoulder as he stared down the corridor. This is creepy.

Right? Talon gave him a look. I think I’m waiting for someone to come crashing through one of the windows. His hand went to where his rifle should be. I want to be armed, he said plaintively.

Cade gave him a look. "Well, you’re not, and this is not that kind of vacation."

What kind of vacation involves guns?

One with you on it.

Cade’s look was a warning, but there was enough good humor there that Talon just grinned back at him. I’ve been informed by Tera that I am to attempt to let injustice and shadiness go unpunished for the next few weeks.

"Good."

Tera, meanwhile, stuck her head back around a corner. Are you two coming? …What, why are you both looking like that?

Talon looked around himself. I’ve just never been somewhere so quiet, except—well, even the Warlord’s palace had servants.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he could have kicked himself for mentioning that. Even though he knew very well that the Warlord was Tera’s father, the fact didn’t seem to fit in his head. The Warlord was three people for him: a murdering despot, hell-bent on keeping control of a planet full of slaves; Aleksandr Soras, a highly decorated veteran of the Alliance Navy, and the genial head of Alliance Intelligence; and Tera’s father, who had somehow managed to raise a daughter with a sense of right and wrong, despite being a total asshole in pretty much every other respect.

Tera smiled at him, though. I still catch myself thinking of him as two people, too, she admitted. I read the headlines about him and still process it like it’s someone I don’t know. Her face fell for a moment, and then she shrugged her shoulders. It is what it is. We won’t get anywhere pretending it’s not….

Totally fucked up? Cade supplied.

That’s a good way of saying it.

I thought so. He hoisted his bags and nodded down the hall. Come on, let’s find our rooms and have a good meal. I’m sick of ship food.

Tera was grinning. She nodded her head down the corridor as the two of them came to join her, and they saw Aryn peering out one of the windows, totally captivated by the view. Her bags were strewn around her on the floor—mostly, Talon knew, her study materials for the piloting exam.

Aryn likes it here, Tera said quietly.

As she had predicted the other night, Cade’s face softened. He nodded, starting to relax, and he and Tera continued up the hallway as Talon’s comm unit rang. Nyx. He gave a chuckle. He’d made sure she didn’t know about his recommendation that she be left in charge, and he was guessing there was going to be a healthy mix of panic and excitement on the other end of the line.

What’s up, boss?

"What the— Whatever Nyx had been planning to say, Talon had totally derailed her. Don’t call me that, that’s just wrong."

"You’re in charge of the Ariane now, aren’t you? Seems right to call you ‘boss.’"

"No. No. There was the panic. No, I am not ‘boss.’ No."

"Oh, come on, you aren’t even a little excited to be able to tell Jester what coordinates to lay in? Push all your paperwork off on other people? Give random-ass orders just for the hell of it? Not that I ever did that last one," he added.

"Of course not. I’m sure you had a very good reason for insisting we grow a pineapple tree in the engine room. But, behind the trademark humor, there was worry. Talon, tell me you actually wanted this. Tell me they didn’t try to … I don’t know. Tell me this was your choice, really your choice."

It was. I requested the time off before they even brought it up. Talon stopped to lean on one of the windowsills and look at the beach outside. He could just make out the waves breaking from where he stood. I wanted Tera to have the time to figure out what she was doing. I wanted the time to get used to not going after the Warlord. I wasn’t sure what I’d be like in command until I came to terms with him being…. He closed his eyes for a moment. Alive, he finished at last.

In the end, he and Tera had decided to bring Aleksandr Soras back to Seneca with them, to stand trial. It was the worst punishment he could imagine for the man: to have everyone know who he was and hate him, to have to live without the life he’d built for himself, to have to know Ymir was free and he was not….

To know that he had lost the love of his daughter.

And yet Talon still wished, every day, that he had killed the Warlord with his bare hands.

"Look, Nyx said finally. Friend to friend, man. Free offer: if you get back and you still can’t live with it, we’ll break into the prison and kill him."

Talon guffawed. You’ve got yourself a deal. There was a pause, while he knew the question that was coming and waited for her to ask it. And then he remembered that right now, at this exact moment, he wasn’t her commanding officer. Nyx, you got this. I promise you. I recommended you and he went through the motions of looking over the paperwork, but he never doubted I had the right idea. And do something for me, okay?

"Anything, she said at once. Whatever you need."

Trust yourself enough not to call, Talon said. "I’m here if you need me, you know that. But you’ve got good instincts. You can command perfectly fine without me. You know I’d never give you the Ariane and that crew if I didn’t think you could do it."

That, at least, seemed to make sense to her. "Okay. Fine." She was trying to sound surly, but it wasn’t really coming off. She was pleased.

He felt a twist of sadness and pushed it away. He’d always known that Nyx was going to be given her own command someday. She was the best XO a captain could ask for, but he couldn’t expect to keep her forever. He couldn’t hold her back.

He couldn’t stay on this call or he was going to say emotional stuff she’d never let him live down. He cleared his throat. Look after the kid, all right? Their newest team member, Loki, was only 17 years old, and was both an unsettlingly efficient killing machine, and just a normal 17 year old kid from a farm on Crius.

"Of course, Nyx promised him. And I won’t get so much as a scratch on the ship, promise. Dragon’s honor."

You’d better not. Now go, go, get some good stories for when I get back. Oh, and one other thing.

"Yeah?"

There’s a crate for you all at the docks.

"Is it new rocket launchers? Her voice was suddenly like a kid in a candy store. Tell me it is, I’ve been eyeing the M-562 for months and—"

Mmm, not quite that. He was sad he wasn’t going to see their faces when they saw what was inside: dress clothes, all perfectly tailored already, and vouchers for a week out on the town in Seneca, from the finest restaurants and bars, to a few shows at the opera house. Tera had wanted to do something nice for the team, and Talon had agreed it was a good idea.

And, Lord knew, with Soras’s estate already passed to her name after his conviction, she had money to burn, even after funneling the majority of it back into Ymir.

I’ll talk to you soon, Talon told Nyx. Be safe. Shoot all the bad guys.

"Right-o, boss." She hung up before he could correct her on the title.

Talon pushed himself up from the window, told himself firmly that it was a good thing Nyx was having her own trial command, and followed the sound of his friends’ voices down the hall to his rooms.

He was going to learn how to relax. He was absolutely determined to. After all, he was a Dragon. He didn’t fail at things.

There’s a first time for everything, Rift, he muttered to himself. Don’t fuck up.

2

T his thing must have been made in hell, Nyx said, a few hours later. She fought her way through a tangle of red cloth. Fuck.

What’s wrong?

"Nothing. I’m fine. I’m—seriously,