Veil of Deceit: A Commonwealth Novel

By Judy Lynn

Prisoner 7578359, Commander Jayla Sans, is innocent.

Framed by her own godfather and convicted of treason, she'll spend the rest of her days on the prison spaceship Tarsha-however few she has left.

During her last investigation for the military, she found a vast and insidious conspiracy, and now various factions will kill

• Language: English
• Publisher: Infinitely Wandering Books LLC
• Release date: Sep 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986059877

Judy Lynn

Writing stories has always been a favorite pastime. Writing novels has always been a dream, which has now come to fruition. My favorite place to write is near the ocean in Northern California or in the middle of the woods. Nature calls to me and I love combining my love for it and my love for writing into the same pastime. Currently, I live in Northern California where I am the Circulation and Technical Services Manager for the library of a small college. I'm not fond of the city, but if you must live in one, this is perfectly situated halfway between the mountains and the ocean.Three boys keep me busy, so finding time to write can be a challenge, but it's all worth it.

Book preview

1

The cuffs chafed.

It was an odd thought to take priority at that moment. Former Commander Jayla Sans followed a short but well-built prison guard down the corridor of the ship. His partner trailed behind her. He was taller, but with too much flab. Their uniform boots thudded nearly in sync with each other, but Jayla’s prison-issued sneakers hardly made a sound.

Around them, the bulkheads were endless, gray, and blank. Intentional or not, it was a symbol of the barren life on this ship and a reminder to prisoners that while they were out of the cells for the moment, there was no escape until the end of their sentence. For Jayla, that would come when she left in a coffin, or her cremated remains were shot out of an airlock into the void of space. Her fate depended entirely on whether her family was still willing to claim her.

You have ten minutes, the first guard said, holding open the door to the visitation room.

Jayla stepped inside. When she saw who her visitor was, she drew in a deep breath. She was tempted to ask the guards to take her back to the cells out of spite. He couldn’t be bothered to show up at her trial, yet here he was.

Instead of an angry outburst, she sat down at the small wooden table across from him; a tall, upper-middle-aged man. His tan uniform was as crisp as ever, and he wouldn’t have been himself without the permanent scowl on his face.

You’re two days late, Dad. Would it be a lecture, or a long, drawn-out silence? That would probably depend on if he thought she was guilty. But he should know her better than that.

General Franklin Sans spoke to the short guard standing inside the closed door. Remove the cuffs.

Sorry, sir. Policy stands.

Do you know who I am, young man? Franklin stood up, holding his head high.

Dad! Why had she expected him to behave any differently than normal? Pulling rank and intimidating underlings were art forms he had perfected long ago. While he held no rank in a civilian prison, it certainly wouldn’t stop him from trying any more than it stopped him from wearing his general’s uniform.

The guard didn’t flinch. He may have known who the general was, but probably not his reputation. Yes, sir. We were briefed two days ago when Ms. Sans was convicted. We were instructed to treat her just like any other prisoner. No other prisoner would be unrestrained while outside the cells.

The general glared at the young man, then finally sat down and looked at his daughter. I tried to get in to see you before the trial, but your visitation rights were restricted. And the bail amount…I’d have posted it if I could. His expression was flat. Completely neutral. For all the emotion he exhibited, they could have been talking about the weather.

Guess they thought I was a serious flight risk. Jayla gave him a tight-lipped smile. The one time he hadn’t been able to pull rank was the one time she had really needed him. But why hadn’t anyone told her he’d tried to see her?

He shifted in his seat. You’re looking well.

Spent the last two days on a transport. I just got here this morning. Come see me in a couple of weeks. She didn’t mean to be testy, but her father had handed down more than his blond hair and brown eyes.

In a couple of weeks, you’ll be too far from Earth. I can’t leave the base for that long, he grumbled.

Of course, he’s able to find out the prison ship’s flight plan. She had no idea where they were. Only that it took a transport two days to get here from Earth. But the holding cells on board gave prisoners no access to stellular data.

The uncomfortable silence dragged on. Ten minutes, and they were wasting it.

I wish they’d never instituted mixed-gender prisons, Franklin finally said.

Dad, please. Jayla rolled her eyes. This is me. Tell me you’re not concerned about what it sounds like you’re concerned about.

You can only face so many opponents at a time. He kept his face neutral but clasped his hands tightly in front of him.

Was he really worried about her? Or just trying to think of something to say?

Don’t worry, Dad. Men are forced to use testosterone suppressants.

He huffed. The modern stuff? Nowhere near as effective at curbing violent tendencies.

Jayla shrugged. "But it has fewer health risks. Prison personnel don’t have to monitor it as closely. And a man can rarely perform while on it. If you’re worried about your little girl getting attacked, don’t be. I can handle myself in a fight."

Of course, I don’t worry. He ran a hand through his hair. But your mother does. I’ve got to appease her somehow. Even if it’s just to express her concerns.

Jayla said nothing as she considered whether he really meant that. She’d never known a general to express worry about anything. And her father was the hardest of all generals.

Have Frankie and Captain Chext been here to see you? Franklin changed the subject.

Not yet. And if they care about their careers, they won’t. You’re the only one with enough reputation to get away with visiting a traitor in prison.

Franklin shook his head. We all know you’re not a traitor.

That’s not what the jury said two days ago. After a surprisingly short deliberation.

They only saw the fabricated evidence. They don’t know you.

And you think you do? Jayla bit back the insult. He was trying. There was no reason she shouldn’t.

"I know you would never give intel to the Fralorans."

Thanks for the vote of confidence. Considering the lack of communication since her arrest, until that moment, she had wondered what he believed. General Royals knows it too, but—

Don’t drag Mike’s name into this. Franklin leaned forward in his chair.

You know he came to see me at the start of my investigation? Jayla asked, looking him in the eye. He wasn’t above lying to his own daughter if it suited him.

He said he told you to leave things be. Franklin didn’t break the stare. Of course he didn’t. He was the one who’d taught her how to demonstrate confidence no matter whom she spoke to.

The day after I was given my last assignment, he came and told me not to dig too deep. I wouldn’t like what I found. And there were others who wouldn’t like me finding anything.

Mike threatened you? He narrowed his eyes.

Uncle Mike wouldn’t know how to threaten a first-year cadet. Jayla’s laugh died in her throat. There was nothing funny about the whole matter. I didn’t take it as a threat. Maybe I should have.

Would it have changed your investigation? His eyes darted to the guard and back to Jayla.

Just the way I ended it. Did he also tell you, because of his advice, I started investigating him first?

"He was hurt, but he understood. Though, he wouldn’t tell me why you investigated him. Franklin folded his hands on the table. But he was clean."

Jayla huffed. My report never saw the light of day. How would you know?

I know Mike. More than forty years in the service, and his hands are cleaner than mine. There’s a reason he’s your godfather.

Jayla scoffed and sat back in her chair. That made the cuffs even more uncomfortable, and she sat forward again. Yeah, he was clean. I knew he would be. But in Investigations, you can’t leave any possibilities unchecked. Someone tries to warn you off a case, they’re automatically suspect.

He knows what you were investigating, yet neither of you can tell me?

You know I can’t, Dad. Don’t ask. She was quiet for a moment. Did he even know what his best friend had done? You weren’t at the trial.

I can’t afford that kind of publicity. And—

Did you follow it on the news? She didn’t care why he hadn’t been there.

No. It upset your mother too much. The general studied the back of his hands for a moment.

General Michael Royals, hero of the Maten encounter, my godfather, your best friend, and my best friend’s father—her voice got louder with each word— sold me out. I can only guess, to protect his own hide.

How can you say that? Franklin’s voice very nearly rose. For him, that was an unheard-of emotional reaction.

Since he already knew what I was investigating, I went to him for advice on how to present my evidence. His advice was to bury it! Then he took the witness stand and told the jury I had come to him for help. To hide the evidence of what I did. She clenched her fist, her fingernails digging into her palm. "He’s the traitor. Maybe not to the Commonwealth, but to us."

Franklin’s eyes went wide, and he gave a quiet gasp. Jayla had worn the same confused and shocked expression in the courtroom when her godfather had taken the stand. She was relieved to see her father hadn’t known about it.

Why would he do that?

You’ll have to ask him. Jayla stared at the table as they were both quiet for a moment. When you do, let me know. Not that she’d believe any explanation he gave.

Franklin looked everywhere but at Jayla. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds away.

Your mother isn’t speaking to me. Apparently, another change in topic was easier than dwelling on what his friend had done. He ran his hand over his face. He didn’t look like he had been sleeping well. Odd. The couch in his den was one of the most comfortable places in the Sans’s home, and it was his refuge when he and Jayla’s mother failed to see eye to eye. Perhaps he really was worried about her. Or worried about how her conviction would affect his career. But she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

You say that as though I should be surprised. Jayla managed a small laugh.

I suppose she has a good reason for it. This time. He chuckled, but only a little, and with more than a hint of bitterness. Clearing his throat, he added, Your brother isn’t speaking to me either, but he should know better. There was nothing I could have done.

You’ll keep Frankie away from here, won’t you? Jayla stared at the table. She didn’t want her younger brother’s life or career to be affected by her conviction.

"I advised it, but he stopped listening to me a long time ago. Shortly after you did. Want me to give Captain Chext the same advice? He actually appreciates my opinion."

Craig has no reason to visit me, Jayla said.

No? He told me you two were close to a proposal.

Jayla wasn’t sure whether or not to be annoyed that Craig had gone to her father before proposing. It didn’t matter anymore. Three weeks before I was arrested, he did propose. And I told him no.

The general looked quickly from Jayla to the guard, then back to Jayla. Not ready to settle down?

Anyone who knew the Sans family would find this heart-to-heart talk odd. Anyone who knew about Jayla’s final case as a military investigator and understood the implications of what she’d found would know why they could not discuss what was really on their minds. Clearly, the general was dying to know, and she to tell him. But it was too dangerous.

Doesn’t matter now, Jayla finally said. Treason is a life sentence. Craig will find someone else.

He doesn’t want someone else. Franklin twisted the ring on his left hand.

"He has to move on. He can’t come visit me. Jayla hoped her father understood what she was saying and would get the message to Craig. Will you let people know I broke things off with Craig before I was ever arrested? Even before I finished my investigation?"

Jayla could still see the hurt on Craig’s face when she had declined his proposal and put an end to their relationship. It had broken her heart as much as his, but she hadn’t given him even a hint of her true feelings. When she was arrested and accused of treason, she’d hoped he would understand and know it had all been an act. He could not be connected with her. It wasn’t safe. But even weeks later, her throat constricted at the thought of never seeing him again.

The same reason you suggested I upgrade my security system?

Jayla glanced over her shoulder at the guard. He stared straight ahead, seeming to pay no attention to them. Jayla looked back to her father and gave a small nod. She hadn’t told him why, only that the upgrade was important, and to avoid using military contractors.

Time’s up, General, the guard said.

You’ll send messages? As soon as you have the credits? Franklin asked as if he hadn’t heard the guard.

Yeah. Wouldn’t want Mom to worry. Jayla stood up, wishing she could stretch her shoulders. "At least until I get sent to the Riviera."

Any idea why you weren’t sent there already?

I figured you influenced it.

"I haven’t been anywhere near this case. I thought for sure you were going to be acquitted, and I didn’t want there to be any suspicion I had anything to do with your verdict… Considering the way things turned out, maybe I should have…done something."

I must insist. The guard took a firm hold of Jayla’s arm, urging her to the door.

This is likely to be the last I see of my daughter for a very long time. Surely, you can have some compassion. Franklin raised his voice.

The guard hesitated, then shook his head. Sorry, sir. I don’t make the rules. He pulled her arm more forcefully. His short black ponytail revealed a data port behind his ear.

Tell Mom I’ll write. And tell Frankie not to come, Jayla said as she left the room. She stopped a few steps down the corridor. The guard behind her bumped into her. Dad?

Franklin stepped out of the room.

Keep an eye out. Keep your surveillance on, she said.

Always do. He nodded. After the last break-in, even your mother is more careful about setting the alarm.

Jayla nodded and followed the short guard back down the corridor. The other guard trailed them again.

We don’t get many lifers here, the first one said.

No kidding, Jayla said dryly.

Don’t get many military prisoners here, either.

I was a guard at the military prison for ten years, before going into Investigations. I guess the judge thought a military prison was too cruel.

Makes sense. He chuckled. I wouldn’t want to get thrown in with the inmates here. And I’ve only been here a couple of days.

With the brass I pissed off, I’m surprised anyone cared. Considering hers was a life sentence, she was still surprised not to be on the Riviera.

The guard placed his hand on a lock. Sans, prisoner number 7-5-7-8-3-5-9, he said into the speaker, reading the number from the chain on her wrist. The door opened, and he motioned for her to step inside.

Name’s Sanchez. He nodded to her. The flabbier guard shook his head.

Word of advice, Lieutenant? Jayla said. Don’t get friendly with your prisoners. Doesn’t make the job any easier.

He looked down at his guard uniform, the same uniform issued to every other guard on the ship. How did you know I was—

Your data port. They’re only issued to military personnel and not until you hit lieutenant, and anyone higher than a lieutenant would more likely be sitting behind a desk, even after leaving the service.

As the door to the scanning room closed between them, the other guard laughed at Sanchez.

Place the cuffs in the bin by the exit, a computerized voice instructed as the magnetic locks on the cuffs released.

Jayla pulled her hands from the restraints, feeling the weight of the twelve inches of steel with the metal cuffs at the ends. It was heavy. That didn’t mean she couldn’t use it like a baton.

Place the cuffs in the bin by the exit before the scan, the voice said again.

Yes, ma’am. Jayla gave a mock salute to whoever might be observing the chamber. She placed the cuffs in the specified spot, and the bin recessed into the bulkhead.

Stand still. The scan will take approximately five seconds.

Jayla complied as a pale blue light started at the ceiling and scanned the entire room, including its occupant.

How many times had she been on the other side of the monitors which would tell prison officials she had nothing but her clothing, her prisoner’s number chain, and a hair elastic for her ponytail? If only she had stayed in that job, she wouldn’t be here now.

No, Jayla thought as the computer opened the door to the cell block. Thousands of people had died. Those she’d investigated needed to be brought to justice and their actions brought to light. If Jayla had to do it all over again, she would. Perhaps she’d have done a few things differently, like not trusting Royals, but she’d still have done the job.

Uncle Mike—no, General Royals—had tried to warn her. Tried to scare her. He should have known how ineffective his scare tactics would be. Then he had turned on her.

She should have asked her dad to tell Mike’s daughter, Leah, that Jayla didn’t hold Mike’s actions against her. Leah had been sitting in the front row of the courtroom. She knew exactly what her father had said. But she knew Jayla too well to believe even her own father. Jayla had gotten only a glimpse of the argument that ensued between them after the verdict was delivered.

Of course, it was best if Jayla didn’t receive a visit from her best friend. It wouldn’t be any safer for her than for Craig. Leah had children to think about. Jayla would let her think General Royals had put a wedge between the families, one too thick for two generations of friendships to get past.

Step into the cell block, the mechanical voice said.

Jayla stepped across the scanning chamber and through the door.

Every nerve in her body went on alert. No one had bothered Jayla all day before she had been summoned to meet with her father. When she’d stepped off the transport with six other inmates that morning, no one had given any indication they knew who she was. Only her last name and prisoner number had been announced on the loudspeaker. Sans wasn’t that uncommon. Outside of military circles, no one would think to connect her name with Franklin Sans, three-star general, or Lieutenant Franklin Sans Jr., dynamite pilot and the youngest recipient of the Courtier Prize for flight. She hoped. Here, people were more likely to know her name by her own merits.

All right, Sans, don’t let them see your fear. Jayla strode to the bunk she had claimed when arriving that morning. Row F, cell three. The cell block was laid out as a grid. Each row contained twenty cells, with a break after every four. The visiting area was past the last row of cells. The mess hall, gym, and showers were on the other side, before the first row. Every cell looked the same. Six bunks, a curtain to change behind, drawers recessed into the bulkhead. Inmates moved freely from cell to cell, until twenty-two hundred hours. Then the cell doors came down for the bed count.

Cameras were everywhere—mounted in the corners and running along tracks in the ceiling—but if this civilian prison was anything like a military one, the guards monitoring them would only step in for extreme circumstances. And once they decided to step in, they did not always arrive in time.

The visit from her father hadn’t done anything for Jayla. She appreciated he had taken the time to come see her, but all it seemed to do was remind her that a man she had called uncle had turned on her. Royals had been clean. What possible reason could he have had to lie on the witness stand?

She stepped into the empty cell, grateful she didn’t have to talk to any cellmates at the moment. The longer she lay on her bunk thinking about the past three weeks, the angrier she got. It wasn’t long before she was fuming, body tense and pulse racing.

She needed to get her mind on something else. Something constructive. She needed a way to get her intel into the hands of someone who could use it. Until three days ago, General Royals would have been the first one she’d have gone to. Three weeks ago, he was the one she had gone to. But he’d refused to take a copy of the intel. Now she knew why. Maybe she hadn’t dug deep enough when she investigated him. If she ever saw that misbegotten, son of a rotten varalot again…

The mess hall is now open, the same mechanical voice said over the loudspeaker. Proceed to the mess hall within the next thirty minutes.

Jayla dragged herself off the bunk. She had yet to meet any of the others who called this cell home, but four of the six beds contained bedding. One had two pillows.

How did anyone manage that? Most likely, it was a case of two people trying to share the narrow bunk. How would that work? Jayla was thin, and the barely cushioned slabs were not much wider than she was. The thought of sharing it was ridiculous. But the thought of two people trying to enjoy each other on the narrow bunk brought a little laugh as she pictured a man falling off.

Hey, newbie. Chow’s on, a man said as he passed her cell.

I heard the comm. Jayla didn’t step out of the cell. She planned to be one of the last ones to enter the mess hall.

The man didn’t immediately continue on his way. Eyeing him and the four others who had stopped with him in front of the cell, Jayla quickly assessed the easiest way to dodge between them if necessary. There was a narrow gap between the smallest of the men and the only woman. But Jayla knew better than to underestimate either.

If you’re late, you won’t get chow.

If I’m late, maybe I won’t get a tray dumped on my head.

You been in prison before? The man chuckled.

I’ve heard stories.

Aw, come on, newbie. Don’t ruin our fun. Another man grabbed her arm.

At that point, Jayla had to make a choice. She could show them how tough she was, dislocate the man’s arm, and stay in the cell. Or she could let the man think she was an easy target and allow him to drag her along.

Neither of those options sounded pleasant. Instead, she took advantage of the group’s high spirits.

Well, so long as Prince Charming here fights off any baddies for me, I suppose I could join you. She pulled her arm from his hand and took his arm as if he were an escort.

Prince Charmless is more like it. The woman in the group jabbed the man in the ribs.

The walkway was crowded, but the five of them seemed to be sticking close together. Maybe too close.

Keeping to the edge of the group was a man who had an air of authority about him, who had not joined in the joviality, but eyed her carefully as they continued past another row of cells.

What’s your name, Princess? he finally spoke up.

They passed more cells, and more people joined the throng.

Jayla thought about lying to him, but the next time her name was announced, for any reason, he’d find out.

Sans, Jayla said. Every inmate around her stiffened. She let go of the man’s arm and took a step away from him, only to bump into someone else.

That’s what I thought, the leader said.

Jayla’s mouth went dry. She had seen that look before. On a prison camera. Right before one inmate had his head bashed in by another. She’d seen it coming but hadn’t been able to get guards in place quickly enough.

Jayla tried to dodge between two of the men, but a third cut off her escape. The leader shoved her down the next corridor. The five of them separated from the rest of the crowd, not giving Jayla a choice.

The man was several inches taller than Jayla’s five feet seven inches. A scar above his hazel eyes stretched across his forehead. His receding hairline failed to cover it in the slightest.

I suppose you know you have a bounty.

Bounty? Jayla played dumb as she looked for anything she could use as a weapon. She kept her back to the cold bulkhead as her adrenaline spiked. This corridor was barren. No stray objects meant no improvised weapons.

Bounty. As in, someone on the outside wants you dead, and they’ll pay for it.

Jayla lunged between two of them again, but the men grabbed her arms, slamming her back against the bulkhead.

Why would anyone want me dead? She pulled against them ineffectively, hoping they didn’t know the answer. Her eyes darted from one man to another, wondering where the first blow would come from. She had to wait for the right moment to try to break from their grip.

Don’t know, don’t care. But my source says it’s the ranking brass who put out the order.

If the chancellor or his minions want her dead, all the more reason we want her alive, Forester, a new voice said from behind the scarred man.

Why don’t you mind your own business, Kane? Forester didn’t turn around and didn’t take his eyes off Jayla.

We can do that, can’t we boys? Kane said, glancing over his shoulder at the men standing behind him. Of course, we’ve decided to make Miss Sans our business.

Jayla swallowed hard. She didn’t like the look of Kane any more than Forester. He was smaller, but his gang was larger.

The newcomers all had the left sleeves of their jumpsuits folded up a few inches higher than the right. Forester’s group had a left pant leg folded up. Visual cues to the two gangs. She should have seen the pant legs before she stepped out of her cell.

I’m sick of your crap, Kane. Forester turned to face his rival, fist clenched. Row F is mine, and you know it.

Forester stood several inches taller, but Kane appeared unfazed and stepped closer. Forester towered over him, brows pinched together, leaning forward. Kane ran his hand over his chest and crossed his arms, setting his feet in a wide stance. Both groups, standing behind their leaders, stood ready with fists clenched and jaws set.

Kane hooked his thumbs in his belt. Let’s see. Eight left sleeves, five-left legged scum. Those numbers tell me I don’t give a varalot’s butt about the territories.

For the price on her head, I’ll take my chances.

Have it your way. Kane acted as if he were leaving, then turned abruptly and hit Forester in the jaw.

As the fight began, one of the men let go of Jayla’s arm to join them. The other tightened his grip and was ready when she turned and swung at him. He grabbed her other arm and pulled her, facing him, against his body, gripping her upper arms. Jayla brought her arms up, inside his, to break his hold. Only one arm was freed. From the texture of his other hand, it was clearly biomechanical. As tightly as he clasped, he had somehow gotten away with adjusting the tension of his grip. His fingers dug into her arm.

Jayla shoved the heel of her hand into the man’s nose and yanked his head down to meet her knee. He let go as he fell to the floor. She followed with several kicks to the man’s ribs.

Another of Forester’s gang members, the only woman, pushed Jayla against the bulkhead and drew back her arm. Jayla dodged, and the woman punched the wall behind her. Jayla stepped around her and rammed the woman’s head into the same wall. This gang was no better than barroom brawlers. Individually, she had no doubt she could beat any one of them, but without Kane’s men, she could not have handled all five of Forester’s. She didn’t want to think about what Kane would demand in return, but for the moment, he was keeping her alive.

Before Jayla could run down the aisle, Forester stood in front of her again. I don’t know what you did to piss off high brass, but I’m not giving up the prize. He lunged at her, knocking her head against the bulkhead. She brought her knee up but was surprised by hard plastic. Forester’s eyes narrowed, a vein in his temple pulsing.

Her breath came in short gulps. Crap, I just pissed him off more. Since when were cups standard issue? They certainly weren’t in the military prison. She had taken down more than one unruly convict by fighting dirty.

Hesitating was detrimental. Forester punched her in the face twice. His third punch landed in the middle of her left breast. Jayla sank to the floor, clutching her chest. Fear overwhelmed the pain, but she couldn’t let it cloud her thoughts. There was nothing within reach she could use against Forester.

You want to fight dirty? I can fight dirty. Forester grabbed the collar of her jumpsuit and pulled her back to her feet.

She hoped this prison was as good at keeping weapons out of the inmates’ hands as the one she had worked in.

If Forester had a weapon, Kane didn’t give him a chance to use it. Kane blindsided him with a left hook, knocking him unconscious, then grabbed Jayla’s arm.

Let’s go, he said, loud enough to call his men. Two of Forester’s men were still conscious but didn’t get up to pursue as Kane’s gang hurried down the aisle and rushed up another few rows. Kane pushed Jayla into an empty cell that looked like any of the others. Two of the men stepped into the cell with them; the rest stayed close by in the aisleway.

Sit down. Let me get a look at that eye. He lifted her