Rick Partlow [Partlow - Revelation Run

Prologue

C aptain Ruth Laurent had never imagined shed meet Lord Aaron Starkad, Overseer of the Supremacy. She certainly hadnt expected him to be this big of an asshole.

Let me make sure I understand your story, Captain, Starkad said, legs crossed, fingers clasped over his knee.

The hereditary leader of the Starkad Supremacy, the largest and most powerful of the Five Dominions, was a head taller than her, even seated, and extremely handsome, though the effect was somewhat ameliorated by the sense he knew exactly how good he looked and reveled in it. A curl of blond hair hung down strategically over his piercing blue eyes, and the corner of his mouth was twisted in what seemed to her to be a perpetual sneer. He gave the air of someone who considered the unadorned, sterile-white interrogation chamber beneath him, as if he were wasting his valuable time being there.

Your former commanding officer, my former Intelligence chief, Colonel Aleksandr Kuryakin, commandeered one of the newest and most expensive heavy cruisers in my fleet, the Valkyrian, for a mission he authorized without my knowledge or consent, to chase down a Goddamned mercenary company?

My Lord, she said carefully, very cognizant of the mans reputation, he was convinced this Wholesale Slaughter mercenary unit was merely a front for an intelligence operation by the Guardianship of Sparta. He saw footage of the units commander, a Captain Jonathan Slaughter, and insisted the man was actually Logan Conner, the eldest son of the Guardian himself, Jaimie Brannigan.

Why the hell, Starkad demanded, gesturing expressively, would the heir to the Guardian of Sparta not use his fathers last name? And why havent I heard anything about him before if hes this important intelligence operative?

She was about to answer when Saul Grieg stepped in. Shed already learned not to interrupt Colonel Grieg. He was short and stocky, the corners of his flattop as squared off as the epaulets on the shoulders of his grey dress uniform or the cut of his jaw.

Lord Starkad, the Intelligence officer explained with a tone that might have sounded sharp and impatient coming from someone else, but was just the way Grieg spoke, Logan Conner took his mothers last name to honor her after she was killed in what the Spartans call the Treason, that rebellion twenty years ago or so under Duncan Lambert. He shrugged casually. We had a hand in it as well, if I recall, but nothing they could prove. As for why you havent heard of him, thats because he isnt some sort of intelligence agent, hes a junior platoon leader in an armored battalion.

He was a junior platoon leader, Laurent corrected him, letting impatience and annoyance get the better of her innate caution. But as of the launch of Colonel Kuryakins mission, he hadnt been seen in his unit for months. The Colonel believed it was him and he authorized the mission in the hopes of capturing him alive and using him for his strategic value against Sparta.

Starkad barked a cynical laugh.

You mean the crusty old bastard wanted to use him to buy himself a seat onto my Privy Council, he corrected her. Old Alek always had his eye on politics. So, he leads my best and brightest off on this wild goose chase and what? You say he just stumbled onto an old Imperial treasure trove?

The Spartan operatives were searching for it, following a transmission we didnt pick up until we were closer. The Colonel figured out Logan and the others had masqueraded as mercenaries in order to pass through Starkad space without alerting us to their presence. My Lord, it was Terminus Cut, the legendary Imperial research station. We were there, we saw the riches it contains

You were there, Grieg cut her off, with a top-of-the-line heavy cruiser and a company of mecha, and yet Kuryakin let himself get suckered in and defeated in detail. The man wasnt a combat soldier. He should have realized his own limitations. The stocky Marine-turned-Intelligence officer paced around the room behind her, making her shoulders itch with the need to turn around and look at him. If he had, he could have waited until the Valkyrian had destroyed their transport before he launched his attack, then taken his time and starved the enemy out.

Tell me again, Captain, Starkad urged, the hint of a smile on his smug, too-handsome face, just how you managed to escape.

He leaned forward, as if he thought it was a marvelous adventure story he could share over drinks with his toadies. She forced herself not to sigh in exasperation, staring down at the glove on her right hand. The centimeter gap between the glove and the end of her uniform sleeve revealed the livid, red burn scars there and she fought the urge to pull the sleeve down to hide it.

I cant hide my face, she thought, bitterness still roiling inside her gut.

I was badly injured in the explosion of one of their drop-ships, she reported dispassionately, shutting out the emotional pain the way shed learned to shut out the lingering pain from the burns. I was blown clear and buried beneath some wreckage. None of the enemy noticed me, and I was able to sneak inside the Terminus facility and steal food and medical supplies.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a moment, remembering nights spent gritting her teeth against the pain to keep from crying out, huddled behind supply crates, so damned close to surrendering just to get proper medical treatment.

When they began loading supplies onto their drop-ship to leave the system, I hid in one of the crates and then managed to find an unoccupied storage bin on their starship. When they made their stop on Guajarat to ship their personnel back to Sparta, I snuck on board their drop ship using a stolen uniform and made my way from the spaceport to a Starkad intelligence agent I knew was running our operations in the capital.

She hissed out a breath through clenched jaws. Her description had been dry, matter-of-fact, leaving out the desperate fear, the sheer panic, the hunger and thirst gnawing at her in the times when she couldnt sneak out to forage. Leaving out the constant, sleepless agony

Well, thats an impressive story, Captain Laurent, Aaron Starkad allowed, leaning back, hands behind his neck as he regarded her through hooded eyes. If its true, if youre not simply a Spartan plant, a double-agent. He glanced over at Grieg, who was standing at parade rest near the center of the small room, a statue dedicated to the spirit of martial readiness. Youre my