by Kass Morgan
“Hey,” Cormak said, scooting over to make room for her on the couch. “I guess you heard?”
She gave a small nod as she sat down next to him. “I think I’m in shock,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m not sure why. I mean, we all know what we signed up for. We understood that not all of us would live to see the end of the war, but I guess I didn’t expect us to lose someone quite so soon. And I know it’s crazy, because who can control these things, but I never would’ve pictured Sula as the first casualty.”
“I know what you mean. You could almost imagine her fending off the Specters with one of her disapproving frowns.”
“Only if she added one of those slow headshakes,” Mhairi said with a sad smile. “Forget my instructors or my squadron mates. Sula was the one I was most afraid of letting down. The other day, I suggested skipping our workout in order to get a good seat in the screening room, and I swear I’ve never seen anyone look so disappointed in me. But it wasn’t because she didn’t like to have fun, you know? She just believed in her friends so much, she wanted us all to live up to our potential.” She paused, cringing slightly as a look of pain flashed across her face. “I hate talking about her in the past tense like that.”
“I get it,” Cormak said quietly. After his older brother died, he’d found himself avoiding talking about Rex altogether rather than use the past tense. My brother was always so funny. My brother always looked out for me. My brother sacrificed everything to make sure I got off Deva.
“How are Arran and Vesper doing?” Mhairi asked.
“Arran’s probably going to spend a few nights in the medical center, but Vesper’s meant to be released today. They just wanted to keep her under observation for a few hours, because of the oxygen deprivation.”
“Thank Antares,” Mhairi said, letting out a long breath. “Will you let me know when they’re out and feeling up to visitors?”
“Definitely.” Cormak’s link buzzed, and he looked down to see a new message from Vesper: I am being held against my will. Commence rescue operations. Cormak grinned. Clearly, she was feeling better.
“Is that Vesper? Are they letting her out?”
“Yes, but I can meet up with her later,” Cormak said quickly, looking up from his link. As anxious as he was to see Vesper, he didn’t want to abandon Mhairi. With Arran in the medical center and most of her friends on patrol duty, there weren’t many people left at the Academy for her to talk to.
“I’m fine,” Mhairi said kindly. “You should go find her.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.” He rose from the couch and placed a hand on Mhairi’s shoulder. “Hang in there. You know Sula would want you to carry on.”
“I know,” Mhairi said with a smile. “I’m going to do my best.”
By the time he reached the medical center, Vesper was standing in the reception area, arguing with the doctor. “This is ridiculous, I’m fine,” she said curtly. “If I can’t manage to walk from the medical center to the residential wing, then you should probably just discharge me from the Quatra Fleet right now.”
“It’s policy,” the medic said with the tight, weary smile of someone long used to dealing with strong-willed cadets. Though perhaps not as strong-willed as Vesper Haze. “A medical attendant will take you back to your room, at which point you’ll be free to do whatever you think is best.”
“He’ll make sure I make it back to my room.” Vesper nodded at Cormak.
The doctor sighed. “I’m not the one who writes the rules. Now, if you’d like to lodge a formal complaint with the superintendent, you’re welcome to do so while I attend to my other patients.”
Cormak suppressed a smile at Vesper’s scowl. They both knew she’d rather remove her own kidney on the operating table next door than bother her mother with something like this. He took her hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Vee. Let’s just get this over with.” As much as he enjoyed watching the fire return to Vesper’s eyes, he didn’t want to spend any more time in the medical center than necessary.
Until very recently, Cormak had spent his days in a state of constant low-grade terror. For despite being made captain, leading his squadron to victory in the tournament, and helping thwart a deadly attack on the Academy, the truth was that Cormak hadn’t even been accepted to the Academy. In fact, he’d never even applied. Rex had been the one who’d won a spot, but he’d never gotten the chance to attend. He’d died in a mining accident trying to earn enough money to send Cormak off planet, refusing to leave his younger brother behind. Rex had known the risks and had left Cormak a note instructing him to take Rex’s spot at the Academy if the worst happened.
Against all odds, Cormak had managed to make it to the Academy, but within days, it became clear that the charade wouldn’t last unless he somehow replaced Rex’s biometric data with his own. After a series of close calls, Cormak had finally managed to pay his old boss, Sol, an infamous hacker and black-market arms dealer, to update the Academy’s files, but he was still in a precarious position. If the Quatra Fleet discovered that Cormak was posing as his dead brother, he’d be thrown in prison on icy Chetire… or worse. So while he was in the clear for now, being around the medics with their needles and DNA scanners made him uneasy.
After Vesper gave a short, impassioned speech about “wasted resources,” she finally convinced the doctor to let her go, and after checking in on the sleeping Arran, Vesper and Cormak made their way into the corridor.
The normally quiet administrative wing was a flurry of activity. Guards patrolled the corridors, and although Cormak knew they’d been sent to the Academy for the cadets’ protection, the loaded guns served as a constant reminder that Cormak was also an intruder. He might pose less of a threat, but that wouldn’t make the Quatra Fleet any more lenient. They were at war, and that seemed like a spectacularly bad time to be revealed as an imposter.
The color had returned to Vesper’s face, but she still seemed a bit unsteady, and it took all of Cormak’s self-control not to take her hand, a gesture she’d no doubt interpret as insultingly overprotective or embarrassingly affectionate. Vesper Haze had joined the Quatra Fleet for one purpose—to become a warrior—and here at the Academy, she was all business. That was one of the things Cormak loved most about her: She was fiercely ambitious, held everyone around her to incredibly high standards, and held herself to even higher ones. That was partly why he was so afraid of Vesper discovering his secret. What would she think when she learned that Cormak was nothing more than a school dropout with a criminal record?
“Are you okay?” Vesper asked, looking at him with an expression that always made his heart race, one of tender concern that appeared only rarely, away from the hypercompetitive atmosphere of the classrooms and the simulcrafts.
“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Because I passed out?”
“Because you nearly died.”
“Oh.” Vesper paused to consider this. “I guess I haven’t really thought about it that way.”
“Well, I didn’t have that luxury,” he said, his light tone belying the knot of residual fear twisting in his stomach. “When I heard that your ship had been attacked…” His voice cracked and he looked away, unsure how Vesper would react to the show of emotion. You have to get used to it, he could imagine her saying with a scoff. If you’re going to date someone in the Quatra Fleet, you have to accept a certain degree of risk.
But instead, Vesper took his hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Cormak wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him, relishing the warmth of her body against his. “You don’t need to apologize for being a hero.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, although he could hear the smile in her voice. “I never thanked you for catching me.”
He tilted his head down to kiss her hair. “I’ll always be there to catch you, Vee.”
“Thank you,” she said with a look as comforting as a caress, and for a moment, he imagined how good i
t’d feel to tell her everything, to lift the weight that’d been pressing down on him ever since he’d arrived at the Academy. But even more than that, he wanted to tell her about Rex, to share the memories of his brother that were slowly fading from the universe. You can’t do that, he reminded himself. It’s not that he didn’t trust Vesper—if she promised not to tell anyone, he knew she’d keep her word. But his secret was just too big, a literal matter of life and death. He couldn’t risk it, and it’d be unfair to burden her with it.
They reached Vesper’s suite, which, thankfully, was empty. He knew the last thing she wanted was to make polite conversation with her roommates. In the aftermath of severe oxygen deprivation, the walk to her dorm was enough to leave Vesper exhausted. He faced a surprising lack of resistance as he helped her into bed, even taking her shoes off for her. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly, her eyes already closed. “I don’t think I’m going to make it to dinner.”
“It’s fine,” Cormak said as he sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her leg through the blanket. “I’ll go to the canteen and bring something back for us.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I can’t really imagine sitting in the dining hall right now.” He wasn’t ready to face the empty chair at the table where Sula normally sat with the other Chetrians. He waited for her to respond, but from the sound of her breath, she’d already fallen asleep. Cormak leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll be back soon.”
He decided to change out of his uniform before heading to the canteen, but it took him longer than usual to make it back to his own room. Every few feet, he was stopped by worried-looking cadets anxious to grill him about the recent attack, assuming that he, as Vesper’s boyfriend, was privy to better information than the rumors that had spread like wildfire through the Academy.
Up ahead, someone stood in front of the door to his suite. Cormak shortened his stride; he wasn’t in the mood to chat with any of his roommates, let alone Basil’s asshole Tridian friends. But to Cormak’s annoyance, the figure didn’t move. “Shit,” Cormak muttered under his breath as he got close enough to take in his visitor’s light brown hair, ruddy skin, broad shoulders, and smug grin. It was Ward.
“What do you want?” Cormak called once he was within earshot.
“Phobos, just the man I was looking for,” Ward said in the carefree, confident tone particular to Tridians. Cormak always found it grating, but tonight it made his stomach roil with disgust. One of Ward’s classmates had died today, and here he was, acting like he was back at the Tridian country club.
“You were looking for me? I thought leaving anonymous, cowardly messages was more your style.”
“That was just a joke. Seriously, you need to lighten up.”
“Apparently you and I have different opinions about what constitutes a joke.”
Ward’s smile tightened. “I suppose that explains why Vesper always looks so miserable around you. I never had any trouble making her laugh.”
“Too bad that couldn’t make up for you being an asshole.” Cormak scrunched his forehead and feigned puzzlement. “Though, if I remember correctly, Vesper grew tired of you before she found out that you were a vile bigot. That part only made her decision to dump you easier.”
The mask of affability fell from Ward’s face, revealing something colder. “Talk all you want, Phobos, but you and I both know the truth. Vesper’s only dating you to piss off her mother and make herself feel virtuous. It’s just a matter of time before the fun of parading around her Devak boyfriend wears off and she realizes what I’ve known all along: that you’re a cocky piece of space trash who doesn’t belong here.”
“Cool,” Cormak said as he raised his wrist to scan into his suite. He’d been dealing with rich idiots his whole life and knew that nothing pissed them off like being dismissed. “Good talk, Ward.”
Ward grabbed Cormak’s wrist and held it in midair. “I’m warning you, Phobos. Leave Vesper alone or you’re going to be in real trouble.”
“Not as much as you’re going to be in if you don’t take your fucking hand off me,” Cormak said calmly. They locked eyes, and Cormak could see Ward wavering as he weighed his options, so he decided to make it easy for him. Cormak wrenched his arm free and then shoved Ward back a few steps. “And just for the record, I’m not the reason you’re not with Vesper. She decides who she dates. Even if she and I break up—which I don’t see happening anytime soon—there’s no way in hell she’d ever get back together with an idiot like you.”
“You’d better watch the way you talk to me, Edger,” Ward spat, his face growing even redder. “I know your secret, you lying, cheating piece of shit.”
A jolt of panic shot through Cormak’s chest, but he managed to keep his voice steady. Growing up on Deva required creative and often illegal means of survival, and he had years of experience maintaining his composure even while his heart pounded an alarm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now get the fuck away from my door.”
“You know, you’re a surprisingly bad liar for a criminal,” Ward said with a sneer. “I was in your suite, hanging out with Basil, and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to get to the bottom of your undeniably shady behavior. It’s almost as if you wanted to get caught, leaving your link lying around like that. It took me less than ten minutes to cross-reference your contacts with the military police database, which led me to your impressive friend, Sol. We had a very… illuminating chat.”
“You called Sol?” Cormak said, forcing himself to sound more bemused than terrified.
“Such a charming guy. Really colorful language. I wish I could remember exactly what he said, but it was something along the lines of ‘I’m not doing anything else for you, shithead, unless you’re prepared to pay double this time.’ What was he talking about?”
Cormak fought desperately against the panic threatening to take control. “I ran a few errands for him once, back on Deva. It’s not a big deal. No one’s going to find that information useful or interesting.”
“Oh, really? Would it seem more useful if I started calling you Cormak?”
A tidal wave of cold terror enveloped his spine. “Cormak?” he repeated, feigning puzzlement.
Ward’s slightly beady eyes narrowed. “I knew there was no way someone like you could ever get into the Academy on your own. You’re a fucking fraud, and if you don’t break up with Vesper by tomorrow, I’m going to turn you in.”
Cormak’s heart was beating so fast, it was growing difficult to speak. “Do you need an escort to the medical center?” he said, managing to imbue the words with bored disdain. “Because it seems like you’re having some kind of psychotic breakdown. Though, you know what?” Cormak glanced at his link. “I don’t really want to be late for dinner. Good luck with that, Ward.”
Without another word, Cormak scanned into his suite and slipped inside. The moment he heard the door hiss shut behind him, he collapsed onto the couch, head spinning. Cormak. Hearing it on Ward’s lips made him hate his own name, as if the Tridian had poisoned it somehow. How had someone as dense as Ward figured out what the Quatra Fleet had failed to recognize?
You’re a fucking fraud, and if you don’t break up with Vesper by tomorrow, I’m going to turn you in.
Ward’s words rattled in Cormak’s skull as he sat on the edge of his bed, his head buried in his hands. He knew it wasn’t an empty threat. Ward might have the fewest admirable qualities of anyone Cormak had ever met, but once he set his twisted mind on something, he followed through. If Cormak didn’t break up with Vesper tonight, he’d wake up in the prison cell next to Orelia.
“That fucking bastard,” Cormak said with a growl as he sprang to his feet and slammed his hand against the wall. Back on Deva, where nothing was built to last—not walls, relationships, or vital organs—this would’ve been enough to shatter the cheap plaster. But the Academy walls would never offer that kind of satisfaction, remaining resolutely undented as Cormak clutched his
hand in pain. Vesper was the best thing that’d ever happened to him; he’d never known that kind of happiness was even possible. The thought of giving in to that shithead Ward’s blackmail made his blood curdle with disgust and rage. But he didn’t have a choice. It was that or be charged with high treason, the punishment for which was death.
He closed his eyes and pictured Vesper as he’d left her, her smooth black hair fanning out across the pillow. Even in sleep, her expression looked slightly defiant, her lips pursed together in resolve. If she knew what Ward had done, she’d lose her mind. But even Vesper’s fury would be no match for the information Ward had at his disposal. The fleet wouldn’t turn a blind eye to identity theft, trespassing, and conspiracy just because the superintendent’s daughter asked them to.
As much as he hated to admit it, Cormak knew he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t break Vesper’s heart, and his own in the process, he’d be writing his death sentence.
CHAPTER 5
ORELIA
She might have been in solitary confinement, but Orelia’s head felt like the noisiest place in the solar system. A cacophony of voices echoed through her skull, a demented chorus of her darkest thoughts and the accusations that’d been hurled at her since her arrest. She should’ve been relieved when Zafir and Haze left without dragging her off for interrogation, yet unlike a physical blow, the memory of his parting words grew more painful as time passed.
She’s the last person I’d ever trust.
On the surface, it was the most obvious, expected reaction possible. She was a spy who’d infiltrated the most top-secret base in the Quatra Fleet. Only a fool would trust her. Yet there’d still been a small part of her that believed Zafir might be able to see past that, to separate the enemy operative from the girl he’d stared at in wonder that night in the ocean simulator.
Perhaps she’d been the biggest fool of all.
The gravity was set to normal levels today, and she paced her cell, trying to get her thoughts in order. She’d be punished for her crime at some point—the only question was whether they’d try to extract more information from her before they executed her.
