by Kass Morgan
Vesper leaned back slightly to remain in place. “Now? It looks like he’s busy. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“Well, then we should at least get closer,” Ward said, sounding slightly annoyed. “Otherwise someone else will swoop in before us.”
With a sigh, Vesper followed Ward through the crowded room, coming to a stop a few feet from Commander Stepney and his companion. “Okay, just act natural,” Ward said before letting out the most unnatural-sounding laugh Vesper had ever heard.
Vesper rolled her eyes and was about to say something calculated to embarrass him when something the black-haired woman said caught her ear. “I have sympathy for them, of course, but honestly, I can’t see how this strike helps anyone. I’d happily pay them more for a job well done, but the way they take advantage is just appalling.”
They’re talking about the miners’ strike on Chetire, Vesper realized. There hadn’t been much in the news, but she’d heard her mother talking about it the day before.
“You’re the one who wanted to buy a seventh mine, Amia,” Stepney said with a smile. “No one said it’d be easy.”
“It’s not the number of mines,” she said curtly. “It’s the rabble-rousers who devote their lives to causing trouble. They act so noble, but they don’t care about the miners any more than we—I mean, they only care about their own interests.”
Commander Stepney sighed. “It does seem like order is breaking down across the solar system. It’s a shame that local law enforcement is making such a mess of things.”
Amia gave him a knowing look. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you could…”
“That’s not the way these things work and you know it.”
“This is boring,” Ward whispered to Vesper. “Let’s go find Marcel and come back later.”
“Just a second,” Vesper said softly, looking at Ward but still straining to hear the conversation next to them.
“Horace, come on,” Amia pleaded, pouting slightly. “Surely you could send one teeny, tiny regiment to help keep the peace. It’s all in the name of law and order.”
“I can’t send fleet forces until the Federation authorizes it. It’s not a private army at my disposal.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” she said, shaking her head. “Because if the strike doesn’t end soon, stock prices are going to plummet, and you know how that’s going to affect our investors. You’re on the board, aren’t you?”
Commander Stepney glanced from side to side and lowered his voice. “Perhaps we should talk about this privately,” he said, gesturing toward an empty hallway up ahead. He held his arm out for Amia, who took it with a smile, whispering to him as they sauntered off.
“Did you hear that?” Vesper asked as she and Ward left to find Marcel.
“Hear what?”
“Never mind,” Vesper said. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d just witnessed, so perhaps it was better to keep it to herself instead of causing trouble. “I think he’s over there. Let’s go.”
“Actually, I think I did know he was on the board. I just never realized it mattered,” she said slowly. “But you don’t think he could…”
“Sabotage peace for financial gain?” Arran said quietly. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“But peace wasn’t even on the table when we went out on that patrol,” Vesper said. “And everyone already supported the war with the Specters. Why frame them for that attack?”
“There’s a difference between supporting the war to stop the Sylvans from attacking us, and supporting the war so we can colonize them. Maybe Stepney wanted to push everyone to an extreme where they will think taking the Sylvan planet, subjugating its people and using it as a fyron mine, is acceptable.”
Vesper’s blood ran cold. “Do you think he’s capable of that?”
“I don’t know,” Arran said.
Vesper’s wrist buzzed and she glanced down to see a message from her mother. She frowned at the cryptic words: Come see me. The only other time her mother had summoned her to her office on her own, it’d been to scold her for losing the captain assignment to Rex. “I need to go,” Vesper said as she rose wearily to her feet. “Let me know if you hear anything else.”
She’d just turned into the hall when someone called her name, and she turned to see Ward heading toward her in what amounted to his version of a hurry. He was the type of person who ambled more than he walked, perpetually confident that the world would be happy to wait for him. “Which way are you headed? I’ll walk with you.”
“I’m actually heading to my mother’s office, so I should probably go on my own,” she said.
Ward’s face fell for just a fraction of a second before his jolly affability swept it aside. “Not a problem. What are you doing after dinner? Want to meet me in the screening room? I think they’re showing that one you like, about the girl who falls into the wormhole and goes back in time.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, befuddled. “They stopped showing holopics weeks ago, after the attack.” With all the additional patrol shifts and extra duties, hardly anyone had time to fritter away in the screening room.
“Yeah, no, you’re right.” An uncharacteristic blush spread faintly across his cheeks. “It’s just that…” He trailed off as he gripped the back of his neck nervously.
“Just what?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I pulled some strings and got the pic delivered. I meant for it to be a surprise.”
“Oh… thank you,” she said as a strange combination of emotions crashed and swirled inside her. “But I’m not sure—”
“I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together,” he cut in. “I know things have been weird with us. Totally my fault, of course,” he said quickly. “But, I don’t know, it’s kinda made me wish I could go back in time and not be such a fuckup. Though then again, I think I needed this learning experience. I needed to know what it was like to lose the respect of the person I cared about most, to understand what really matters.”
“I appreciate that. I really do. But I don’t think it’s a good idea to make things complicated when there’s already so much going on.”
“Complicated? Vee, what could be simpler than going back to the way things were? We were great together. We brought out the best in each other.”
If I’d brought out the best in you, you wouldn’t have written Go home Edgers in the corridor, Vesper thought as a flare of anger rose up in her chest. “I’m not sure about that.”
He smiled and shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Still as stubborn as always. That’s okay—you have so many other attractive qualities, it doesn’t really matter.”
Ward placed his hand on her arm, but Vesper shook it loose as she recalled what Rex had said to her the other day when the topic of her stubbornness had arisen.
That’s one of the reasons I lo—He’d cut himself off, but the rest of the sentence had sprung from the tip of his tongue straight into her heart.
She didn’t want grand gestures and someone who “pulled strings.” She wanted to be with someone who made the dark parts of herself feel like an asset instead of a stain.
She wanted Rex.
“I have to go,” she said. “My mother’s waiting for me. I’ll see you later.”
She started to turn away, but Ward grabbed her again, clutching her wrist. “This is about him, isn’t it? That piece of space trash?” His voice was cold, and all traces of affability had drained from his face.
“No, it isn’t,” she said as she wrenched her arm free. “It’s about you. Yes, I want to be with someone who brings out the best in me, but not someone who tries to hide away the rest. We don’t belong together, Ward. You’ll understand that someday, I promise. I’ll see you later.” She flashed him a friendly smile that he returned quickly, but not quickly enough to mask the flash of anger in his eyes. There was nothing Ward hated more than not getting his way.
As Vesper approached Admiral Haze’s office, her apprehension thicke
ned into dread as she tried to guess what her mother wanted to talk to her about. Did someone alert her to Vesper and Arran’s research? Was she going to be reprimanded for poking her nose where it didn’t belong? Yet the moment the office door slid open, Vesper’s anxiety gave way to bemusement. It was clear from her mother’s glowing face and the rapidity with which she sprang from her chair that she hadn’t summoned Vesper to deliver bad news.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said with uncharacteristic warmth. “The news is going to break soon, so I figured there was no harm in telling you directly. Something remarkable has happened.”
“What is it?” Vesper asked eagerly. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had seemed so obviously excited about something.
“The Specters have agreed to attend the peace talks.”
Vesper stared at her, momentarily too stunned to speak. Although she’d known that this was the goal of Orelia and Zafir’s mission, the odds had seemed dismally low. “That’s incredible,” she said finally. “Do you think we’ll actually be able to settle on a treaty?”
“I do,” Admiral Haze said firmly. “This war has gone on for far too long and cost far too many lives.” She met Vesper’s eye and her face softened. “I almost lost you… twice. In a matter of weeks. It’s time to put a stop to the bloodshed.”
“So there’s going to be a peace summit?”
Her mother nodded. “Our two delegations are going to meet halfway between our respective solar systems in three days.”
“Three days?” Vesper repeated incredulously. “Who’s going?”
“That’s why I wanted to be the one to tell you about the summit. A group of cadets will be going as support crew, and you’ve been selected as one of them. You won’t attend the talks, of course, but you’ll be on the site. You’re going to be a part of history.”
A tingle of excitement coursed through Vesper as she imagined standing on the deck of the battlecraft, saluting the delegates as they disembarked, then waiting with breathless anticipation for news. Being one of the first people in the entire solar system to learn that the war was over, and knowing that she’d played a very small part in the process. But her excitement faded slightly as she imagined standing next to Rex, unable to throw her arms around him in celebration.
“I just wish we could’ve arranged a cease-fire before the most recent attack,” Admiral Haze said with a sigh. “Though, if everything goes according to plan, Sula will be the last casualty of the war.”
Vesper hesitated, unsure how much to share with her mother about her and Arran’s suspicions. On the one hand, she knew Admiral Haze would be far from pleased to learn that Vesper and Arran had taken something like this upon themselves. But on the other, it seemed important that the fleet leadership have the most accurate information at their disposal going into the peace talks. What if the Quatrans brought it up only to have the Specters deny it? It could derail the entire conversation. “I think there’s something you need to know going into the peace talks,” she said carefully. She took a deep breath and explained what Arran had discovered during his research. “There’s just something… off about the whole thing. And I figured you’d want to know about it before heading out to the peace summit.”
“That’s a pretty serious accusation,” Admiral Haze said, surveying Vesper carefully.
“I know. But right now, it’s the only option that seems to make sense.”
Admiral Haze pressed her lips together, her brow furrowing in thought. “I wonder if…”
“Wonder what?” Vesper asked carefully. It wasn’t often that her mother confided in her.
“I’m not quite sure,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically vague. “It just seems to fit with—”
She cut herself off as her door hissed open and Commander Stepney strode in. His face was so full of fury that Vesper barely recognized him—she’d never seen the calm, measured commander in such an agitated state. “What the hell is going on here?” he spat out, either unaware of Vesper’s presence or too angry to worry about yelling at a subordinate in front of her daughter.
Without a word, Vesper rose from her seat and started to head for the door, cheeks burning with embarrassment and indignation. “Stay right there,” Stepney barked. “The sooner you learn the truth about your mother, the better.”
“What are you talking about?” Admiral Haze asked, seemingly unfazed by her boss’s ire.
“You’ve sent a peace envoy? To the Specters? Are you out of your mind?! You don’t get to make a unilateral decision like that. It’s mutiny.” Stepney began to pace around the office. “You know that the Specters aren’t interested in peace. They’re only interested in one thing—Quatran genocide. The only way we’ll ever know peace is to kill every single one of those monsters.”
“The situation has changed,” Admiral Haze said calmly, as if she weren’t the one essentially committing mutiny. “The Specter—I mean Sylvan—we had in custody has convinced her people to meet with us for a peace summit.”
“She’s a spy, Svetlara,” Stepney cut in. His anger seemed to be fizzling out, leaving only exhaustion and frustration in its wake. “You can’t trust her. You can’t trust any of them! The naïveté you’ve displayed here is distressing, if I’m being frank.”
“You don’t know Orelia,” Vesper said. The words flew out before she’d had the chance to assess them. Before her brain had time to remind her mouth that contradicting the commander of the Quatra Fleet was a really, really bad idea. “She’s the one who saved the Academy by telling us how to destroy the Specter ship. She understands what’s at stake, and if she says she’s going to help negotiate peace, then I believe her.”
“It looks like insubordination and delusional tendencies are a family trait,” Stepney said coldly. “You’re dismissed, cadet.”
Vesper saluted and hurried out of her mother’s office, her cheeks still burning as she cursed herself for her foolish behavior. But under it all, she couldn’t help but wonder at the strangeness of the situation. Yes, her mother had acted rashly—Stepney hadn’t been overreacting when he’d used the word mutiny—but surely the prospect of peace mattered far more.
Unless Arran was right and Stepney had his own nefarious reasons for keeping the war alive.
CHAPTER 15
CORMAK
“This is madness,” Frey said as he dropped onto the common room couch next to Cormak; a few of the first-year cadets had gathered to discuss the shocking revelation about the peace summit. “They’ve been launching vicious attacks on us for years with one aim: to wipe out every Quatran in the solar system and colonize our planets. So why the hell would they suddenly be interested in peace? It makes no sense whatsoever. It has to be some kind of trap.”
It was strange to see the normally placid, ironic Frey so worked up. Cormak hadn’t spent a great deal of time with him, but he couldn’t recall ever hearing him speak so emphatically… about anything. “It’s definitely unexpected,” Cormak said, hoping that response would be enough to satisfy Frey. “Sorry, I have to run. I’ll see you all later.” He didn’t have time to talk things through—not when he was preparing to attend the summit himself. Just thinking about it was enough to make him shiver. He’d been flabbergasted when Admiral Haze, never his biggest fan, had told him that he was one of the cadets chosen to attend as support staff.
“Okay.” Frey let out a long sigh and then forced a cheery smile. “I’ll see you at dinner… assuming the Academy isn’t blown to smithereens before then.”
“At least you’ll die looking your best. No one rocks formal wear like you, Frey.”
He nodded gravely. “You make an excellent point.”
Cormak stepped into the corridor as a sea of cadets, guards, and Quatra Fleet staff dashed in all directions, making frantic preparations for the peace summit. He glanced down at his link. He had just enough time to swing by the canteen before he needed to report to the launchport to help load supplies. But just as he set off, a glint of s
hiny black hair in the crowd caught his eye. Even from a distance, Cormak could tell something was wrong with Vesper. Instead of striding along with her trademark assurance, she walked slowly down the bustling corridor, moving with the flow of traffic rather than darting impatiently through the crowd.
He’d been trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to avoid her over the past few days. The only way to maintain his ridiculous “we’re better off apart” stance was to keep as far away as possible, as one look at Vesper’s face was enough to make him break.
Turn around, he told himself. She hasn’t spotted you yet. But his stubborn feet remained firmly in place. It was physically impossible for him to run away from Vesper when she was clearly upset, Ward’s threats be damned.
She spotted him and hesitated, causing the person behind her to bump into her. He could tell she was torn between seeking comfort from the person she’d once trusted most, and exposing herself to even more heartache. The look of indecision on her face sent a stab of pain through Cormak’s chest. He hated himself for making her suffer like this.
But even if she’d wanted to escape, there was nowhere to go, and a few moments later, the surge of the crowd brought her alongside him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling her to the side of the crowded hall.
Vesper looked around warily. “I’m not sure I should talk about it here.”
“Okay. Where do you want to go?” He winced inwardly as a trace of pain flashed on Vesper’s face. Just a few days ago, it would’ve been the most natural thing in the world for them to sneak back to the residential wing and hole up in one of their rooms.
“Let’s go to the library. No one’s ever there this time of day.”
“Sure,” Cormak said lightly, although that was actually the second-worst place he could think of. He’d never admit it to anyone, but a few times when he’d been studying in the library, he’d amused himself by imagining it was a room in the house he’d share with Vesper someday. The fantasy had always felt a little foolish, even when they’d been together—it seemed audacious, or perhaps even delusional, for someone who’d snuck into the Academy by posing as his dead brother to have such outlandish hopes for the future. Cormak would be lucky if he graduated, forget about making enough money to have a room full of books. Yet he’d wasted an embarrassing number of hours imagining what it’d be like to build a life with Vesper, probably because he had no home to go back to himself. He didn’t even know where he’d spend his leave. He didn’t have the money to go back to Deva and would have no one to stay with when he got there.
