Page 27 of Hunting the Warlord's Daughter

“On its face, his presence at Zorabeta wouldn’t be of concern,” Zaafran continued, “but he left with a young refugee woman. Wren Senderin of Barokk. Is she the warlord’s daughter? We don’t know. Now they’ve disappeared together. All efforts to communicate have failed. If the elder Mawndarr’s story is to be believed, we have a problem on our hands.”

Rorkken folded his arms. “Consider the source, sir. Karbon Mawndarr—a vile individual. He’s desperate to save his hide. How can we trust what he says?”

“The same thoughts went through my mind, captain. I like Aral, very much, and I respect him. He’s an unsung hero in the truest sense of the word. He deserves recognition, but of course he can’t have it, serving as our spy. I don’t know what drives a man to such selflessness, but I’m blasted glad he chose our side. If not for him there might not be aUnity, or even the Triad, for that matter. He’s never given me a reason to distrust him. I want to trust him now—despite his unusual behavior. On the other hand, I’m forced to acknowledge that he has the brains and the knowledge to do what his father claims. Smart enemies are the hardest to defeat. The warlord wasn’t so smart. He let his desire for a divine bloodline bring him down. Aral may be cleverer than us all. If true, he’s played the long game—playedus—plotting to resurrect the Empire afterwehelped him clear away all the competition.”

A hush fell over the room. Hadley pushed on her chin to close her mouth.

“Unfortunately, his identity as a defector, as a spy, has been compromised. It makes him a loyalist target. He’ll find no safe quarter in this galaxy.” Zaafran’s frown lines deepened. “I’ve issued a galaxy-wide warrant for his arrest. He needs to be protected, or he needs to be punished. Taking him into custody will allow us to accomplish either. It will lead us to the warlord’s daughter too, if she is in fact with him. The bounty, of course, remains in effect.”

“No matter where they hide in Borderlands, we’ll find them,” Bandar said as Rorkken nodded.

Zaafran held up his hand. “An equally urgent matter requires our attention.” His statement generated low mumbles of surprise. “The queen has come into possession of an ancient artifact. An urn. It’s been hidden behind enemy lines for millennia. It dates back from well before the Schism.” Awe crept into his tone. “Perhaps touched by the hands of the original goddesses.”

Admiral Bandar’s pursed lips broadcast her thoughts on the subject. She was not at all religious. More than merely a non-believer, religion as a whole put her in a bad mood. Knowing her tragic past, Hadley could understand why.

Still, his description of the urn raised bumps on Hadley’s flesh. So little predating the war had survived. Since the war had ended, news had come of rich and formerly powerful Drakken nobility hoarding religious artifacts—plundered and otherwise—to display in personal residences and ships. Or, worse, as garden ornaments.

“The urn contains information embedded in its engravings. They reveal coordinates to a planet in the Uncharted Territories. We know it as 95834-UTF. However, we now believe it may be Ara Ana, the mythical, original home of the goddesses. No, we have no proof that Ara Ana exists, or that it ever did. But the priestesses who brought this matter to the queen’s attention believe it does. And that our enemies know about it too.”

In the sudden hush, he leaned forward and rested his fists on his desktop. “We’ve all heard the legends of the Goddess treasure. The sanctum filled with treasure and priceless artifacts.” His blue eyes gleamed. “And the lost scripture… the revelation of everything.” His face hardened. “There may also be caches of super-weaponry from our ancient and possibly more technologically advanced roots. All of it is at risk of being lost forever, or used against us, were loyalists—or certain ambitious rogue battlelords—to gain possession of it. At the queen’s directive, theUnitywill proceed to 95834-UTF to secure and protect the site.” He waved his hand. “Display—Mission: Origins.”

On the holo-vis, an ancient urn appeared. The visual zoomed in on an engraving on its pitted surface, transforming, via computer-generated animation, into five points of light in a pentagon shape, three-dimensional and glowing in midair.

Goddess! Hadley grabbed the edge of the table. It was the same pattern Bolivarr had been sketching. Runes—many more than what he had drawn—twirled as they floated in midair, hundreds of them. Some even resembled those he’d scribbled. How did he come to know the design from an ancient urn?

“‘By the stars of Ara Ana go,’” Admiral Bandar read, tracing a fingertip parallel to the moving runes. “It’s an old blessing. It’s what one might say to wish a person luck and safety on a long journey.”

Everyone jerked their eyes to her.

“My parents were missionaries,” she explained with a shrug and what seemed to be vague amusement at their shock. “I had to study Sakkaran as a schoolgirl. It’s the ancient tongue of the goddesses. There isn’t a use for it anymore, but it’s kept alive by religious scholars for the sake of history, I suppose.”

“Two new crew members will be joining you on temporary assignment,” the prime-admiral informed them. “An archeologist specializing in antiquities, and also a priestess to act as a religious advisor. Both are highly respected experts in their fields. I’d come along myself if I could,” he added with obvious longing. Worry lines had become smile lines that bracketed his mouth. “A fable the lost scripture may be—and the treasure that surrounds it—but to entertain the promise of such a discovery, to dream of it… it’s what our weary, war-ravaged people need. The Goddess treasure is potentially the most significant discovery of our time. And a timely PR opportunity. We’ll launch Mission: Origins with great fanfare and give the citizens of the Triad something to bring us all together.”

Hadley smiled on the inside. She’d always liked Zaafran’s optimism. The galaxy did need this treasure. To know the goddesses existed… that they were real—that true goodness existed. Goddess knew the galaxy could use some goodness right now.

Prime-Admiral Zaafran sat up, his hands flat on his desk. “Enough. You have work to do.” With a smile, he added, “By the stars of Ara Ana go.”

He signed off, leaving everyone to absorb the news.

Bandar swiveled in her seat to face the staff and tented her fingers. “A former battlelord turned spy may have flipped sides, and the warlord’s daughter is on the loose, which will surely energize loyalists and anarchists alike. And yet? We’re off to secure a treasure that’s largely regarded as a fable, even in the believer community.” She compressed her lips with faint distaste. “But if it’s to keep our enemies from getting their hands on it, I’m in full support.” She nodded at Rorkken. “Captain, start assembling a surface team for our upcoming visit to Ara Ana.” Next, she pivoted in her seat to face Major Northrune, commanding officer of the Space Marines. “Major, prepare a briefing on your plans to keep the site secure while our people explore it.”

The major pushed upright with his thick arms. “Aye-aye, admiral.”

“Lieutenant Keyren—regarding the new crew members, obtain and upload their personnel records and forward them to me,” she ordered Hadley.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That is all.” Admiral Bandar rose. The Space Marines popped to attention. Head held high, hands clasped behind her, she exited the room with Rorkken. They exchanged a look as they walked away. Palpable heat zinged between them.

Hadley trailed behind the pair, opening her data-vis to make notes for herself. The Mission: Origins symbol filled her screen. The five marks and all those runes! She couldn’t wait to hear what Bolivarr thought of it. It would be an excuse to stop by his quarters after work. Not that she’d ever needed one before, but time alone in each other’s company had been almost nonexistent since his flashback. There hadn’t yet been an opportunity to enjoy their special night out, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. Sure, their days had been filled with myriad shipboard duties, but all week, he’d gone to bed early, and alone, blaming the need to catch up on sleep. The less she saw him, the more she’d buried herself in her studies. Being productive was useful. Worrying if his behavior had something to do with the woman he’d remembered was not.

Hadley’s gaze returned to the Mission: Origins symbol on her data-vis.“It’s something from my life before,”Bolivarr had confided.“Something I’m supposed to know.”

And when he did finally know? What then? A tangle of mixed feelings unraveled inside her—wonder, anticipation, and also dread. Bo had long hoped for a way to unlock his past. Mission: Origins, aptly named, could very well be it.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Scrubbed clean,her damp hair in a single, thick braid, Wren followed the scent of food down the passageway to the galley. Her shirt and pants were a forgettable brown, her boots the same color. If she wanted to hide in plain sight from the entire galaxy, forgettable was good. If there was one thing she was good at, it was being forgettable. In a way, she’d been hiding in plain sight all her life. Unnoticed. Forgotten.

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