by Kass Morgan
The library was as empty as Vesper had predicted, and they settled into a pair of blue velvet chairs nestled against the wall. “So, what’s going on?” Cormak asked as Vesper drummed her hands nervously on the arms of her chair.
She took a deep breath and then, in a shaky voice, told him about the confrontation between her mother and Commander Stepney.
“I’m sorry, Vee. That’s a hell of a thing to witness. Are you okay?” He reached for her hand out of habit, then jerked his arm back when she flinched.
“Yeah, I guess so. I just wish I knew what was going to happen. What if Stepney forces her to call the whole thing off?”
“She’ll figure something out. Your mother doesn’t give up that easily. Maybe if she just apologizes?”
Vesper let out a short, brittle laugh. “I can’t remember ever hearing her apologize. For anything. I guess she and I have that in common. We don’t spend much time thinking about how other people feel.”
“Are you serious?” Cormak said incredulously. “You were the glue that held our squadron together. You made sure everyone felt challenged and appreciated. You could always tell when someone was having a bad day and knew exactly what to say to make them feel better.”
“That was because I wanted to win.”
Cormak laughed. “Fine. So your motives weren’t one hundred percent altruistic. But that doesn’t matter. Kindness is kindness. People like being around you. You make them feel like the best versions of themselves.”
“Not everyone, clearly,” Vesper said softly, looking at Cormak with an expression he’d never seen before, full of sadness and regret.
“What are you talking about?”
“I obviously didn’t make you feel like the best version of yourself.”
Whatever had been holding the pieces of Cormak’s fractured heart together finally snapped, flooding his chest with pain. “Oh, Vee.” He reached for her hand and this time held it tightly even when she tried to pull away. “You have no idea how happy I was with you. The happiest I’ve ever felt, actually.” He reached over to wipe the tears that had begun to slide down her cheek, and then, without thinking, tilted his head forward and kissed her.
For one brief, exquisite moment, everything in the world felt right again. Then she pulled away and looked at him with tears clinging to her long, dark lashes. “I don’t understand. If you were so happy, why’d you break up with me?”
“It’s… it’s complicated.”
“Why won’t you tell me what’s really going on?” she asked quietly. She was staring at him so intently, it felt like she was reading the secrets he’d taken such care to stow away, like she was looking directly into the deepest part of his mind. He wished that were possible. Then she’d understand why they couldn’t be together, why Cormak had to take such extraordinary measures to protect himself… and her.
“I can’t.” There was no point in pretending that he wasn’t hiding something. He didn’t need to make her feel crazy on top of everything else he was putting her through. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Then I’m going to go. Good luck with everything, Rex,” Vesper said as she began to turn away.
“Vesper, wait.” Cormak grabbed her hand and tried to pull her toward him, but she shook herself free and hurried away.
Cormak headed to the canteen in a daze. He wasn’t hungry, but it was better to grab something now so he could shut himself up in his room after his shift ended. The last thing in the world he felt like right now was facing the crowded dining hall.
But even the canteen was too bright and bustling for his current mood. Cormak was surprised to see the canteen’s monitors, which were usually turned off, flickering with light and color as he walked in. It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to recognize the soaring music coming from the speakers—it was the rendition of the Quatra System anthem that always played during fleet recruitment videos.
Cormak felt his brow furrow as he stared at the familiar images. He’d seen the ads so many times over the years, he could recite them from memory. There are two types of people in the solar system: those who hide and those who fight. Which kind are you? Then came the one that always made his brother laugh, the really old-fashioned one that showed a Settler soldier landing on his home planet launchport, where he was swarmed by beautiful women in skimpy outfits. “Where the hell is that supposed to be?” Rex would ask. “They’d freeze to death on Chetire, be poisoned on Deva, and be eaten alive by fire gnats on Loos.”
Next to Cormak, a second-year girl named Rielle was watching the videos with her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Why are they showing these?” he asked. “Everyone here has already joined up.”
“To boost morale,” she said with a withering look that he assumed was directed at the Academy, not him. “There’ve been rumors of defections.”
“People are running away?” Cormak asked incredulously. A few weeks ago, when it’d looked like he wouldn’t be able to replace his medical records in time, he’d been desperate enough to try stealing a ship. But, luckily, he’d realized the futility of his plan before anyone had gotten wind of it.
“Not yet, but it wouldn’t be impossible. With so many active-duty troops and personnel coming and going at all hours, it’d be easy to blend in as a passenger on a transport ship.”
“But why? Everyone here knew what they were getting into when they signed up.”
Rielle shot him an even more withering look that, this time, was clearly intended for him. “They signed up when they thought they were going to kill Specters, not negotiate with them.”
When Rielle turned to resume glaring at the monitor, Cormak got in line and rose onto the balls of his feet to see which attendant was behind the counter. His favorite, the one programmed to make milkshakes, broke down a lot and was constantly being replaced by an older model with poor voice recognition who tended to hand you tea no matter what you ordered.
“I hope you enjoy whatever you’re getting, because it’s going to be your last meal as a free man,” a now-familiar voice snarled behind him. With a grimace, Cormak turned to see Ward glaring at him with unabashed fury. Normally, the two-faced Tridian was all smiles in public, saving his vitriol for his private confrontations. But right now, he seemed to be almost shaking with anger. The only concession Ward made to the crowd was to lower his voice when he hissed, “What the hell were you just doing with Vesper? I thought we had a deal.”
The bastard was spying on us, Cormak realized. But if that was the case, then he would’ve seen Cormak make his excuses and leave before anything happened.
By this point, at least half the cadets in the canteen were watching them. Way to go, asshole, Cormak thought. Ward probably thought he was threatening Cormak by mentioning their deal in public, but in doing so, he’d given up his power. The only leverage Ward had over him was the assurance that he’d keep Cormak’s secret. Showing how little that mattered to him made Cormak a hell of a lot less likely to uphold his own end of the bargain. “Can we discuss this somewhere else?” he asked with what he was sure was infuriating composure.
“No. I’m done negotiating with you, Phobos,” Ward said. He took a step forward until his face was mere inches from Cormak’s. “I saw you two getting cozy in the library. Consider this your last warning. If I see you even look at her again, I’m going straight to Stepney. Do you understand?”
“Can you step back, please?” Cormak asked calmly.
“No, I fucking won’t step back. Not until you tell me you understand.”
“I’m not saying a damn thing until you get out of my face.”
Ward’s cheeks grew red and he clenched his teeth. “I don’t take orders from Edgers,” he spat out, shoving Cormak against the wall.
The impact shattered the shoddy barriers Cormak had built to keep his anger at bay, and it poured through his body like a surge of Loosian lava. He reached forward and shoved Ward’s chest hard enough to make the taller boy stumble back a few steps. “If yo
u touch me again, I swear to god I’ll break your fucking arm,” Cormak said, shoving Ward again for good measure while everyone in the canteen watched, dumbstruck. Fighting was strictly prohibited and severely punished at the Academy. But Cormak didn’t care. He was sick of letting Tridians boss him around, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the dumbest Tridian of all time control his life anymore. “And I’m done letting you tell me what to do. The last thing the fleet needs is one more imbecile giving orders.”
“Then consider yourself a dead man walking, Phobos,” Ward said with a sneer. “You know the punishment for treason.”
Cormak did know, but he refused to give Ward the satisfaction of seeing the slightest hint of fear on his face. Without another word, he spun around and strode quickly but calmly out of the canteen, leaving furtive whispers and anxious stares in his wake.
He needed to get out of here, but stealing a ship was out of the question. The last thing Cormak needed was to have theft added to the long list of potential charges. He’d have to find another way to thwart Ward. Maybe Cormak could reach Stepney first and convince the commander that an unhinged Ward had concocted an outlandish theory as a form of revenge. Perhaps, if he were lucky, Stepney would be far too busy with the peace summit to investigate the claims of a cadet who, only weeks ago, had vandalized the Academy with a hateful slur.
It’s not the end of the road, Cormak thought as his fear and anger crystallized into resolve. He’d spent his life outwitting rich assholes who wanted to destroy him, and he wasn’t going to give in now.
CHAPTER 16
ARRAN
“This is pretty wild,” Rees said, sounding uncharacteristically awed as he surveyed the scene before them. The launchport was a sea of uniformed people: There were mechanics working on fightercraft, infantry troops loading and unloading gear, and officers performing inspections. The energy was unlike anything Arran had ever felt before, the air crackling with excitement and fear.
He felt the push and pull of those emotions as he checked his bag for the forty-third time since leaving his room. To his surprise and relief, the Sylvans had agreed to a peace summit. Admiral Haze, Commander Stepney, and a few top Federation diplomats would be leading the talks, but they weren’t going alone. They’d be accompanied by nearly a quarter of the fleet’s battlecraft, ready to provide backup should negotiations fail, and a handful of top cadets had been assigned to the crews, including Arran, Rex, Vesper, and Rees.
“That’s definitely one word for it,” Arran said as he watched a grave-looking Commander Stepney stride across the launchport, flanked by members of his staff.
“Did you hear about the big blowup?” Rees asked quietly. “Apparently, he accused Haze of staging a coup.”
“How do you know about that?” Arran asked before realizing that it might’ve been better to play dumb. Although Vesper had told him what she’d seen in her mother’s office, it seemed as if word hadn’t spread beyond her inner circle and the fleet leadership.
“I told you,” Rees said with a smile. “I pay attention to these things.”
“I can’t decide if your powers are impressive or terrifying. Maybe it depends on who you’re paying attention to.”
Rees raised one eyebrow and shot Arran a knowing smirk that made him blush. Ever since their kiss in the greenhouse, they’d spent most of their free time together. It’d been a very welcome distraction from all the chaos of the past few weeks, but while Arran could feel himself growing fonder of Rees—his intelligence, his sense of justice, his irreverent humor—he didn’t really feel like they were growing closer. It still felt like there was some kind of wall between them, like Rees was keeping part of himself closed off in some way. But perhaps this mission would change all that. They were going to be a part of history together, forming a bond that would last the rest of their lives, regardless of what happened with their relationship.
“There’s not a lot of officer gossip floating around the first-year common room,” Arran said. “What’s your source?”
Rees looked from side to side and lowered his voice. “The attendants record conversations. It’s a backup mechanism so they don’t forget orders before they carry them out. The files are supposed to be erased at the end of every day, but I wrote a code that captures the data.”
“So you’re eavesdropping on private conversations,” Arran said, startled. “Isn’t that a little… unethical?”
Rees’s face hardened. “Don’t you think we have a right to know why our commanders are risking our lives? Especially when Stepney has such close ties to the fyron companies.”
“No, you’re right,” Arran said quickly, eager to change the subject. “But if Stepney was so opposed to the peace summit, why do you think he’s going?”
“You think he’d let Admiral Haze change the course of Quatran history without him?” Rees scoffed. “If the peace talks end up working, he’ll want to take credit for it, regardless of what he might’ve said in the past.” Rees glanced down at his link and frowned. “It looks like I’m supposed to help load supplies on Dock B. See you later?”
“See you on board,” Arran said. Their battlecraft was due to depart in less than three hours, and then the journey to the site chosen for the peace summit would take just two days, since both sides would be able to travel at light speed. In two days, the Quatrans would come face-to-face with the enemy they’d spent years merely imagining. In two days, he’d get to see Orelia again, a prospect that filled him with both excitement and apprehension. How were you supposed to greet someone who’d betrayed you? Who’d been one of your closest confidants while simultaneously putting your life in grave danger? At least now, after his research, he was positive that neither Orelia nor the Specters had been responsible for the explosion that killed Sula. He’d never be able to face her otherwise.
Arran had reported his findings to Captain Mott, but there was no sign that the information had been passed along to anyone else. A sharp twinge of anxiety momentarily overpowered the nerves that had already taken hold. Right now, the Quatra Fleet leadership was under the impression that the Specters had launched a deadly attack just days ago. If that wasn’t true, then the misunderstanding could potentially have the power to derail the peace talks. With a glance over his shoulder, Arran began to compose a message to Orelia on his link. He doubted it’d reach her so far out of range, but it was worth a shot.
He sent the message and was just about to swing his pack over his shoulder and head up the gangplank when someone called his name. He turned to see Dash, breathing heavily, as if he’d run to catch up with Arran. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Now’s not a good time, Dash.” He gestured toward the massive battlecraft. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re about to ship out for the most important operation in the history of the Quatra System.”
Dash sighed. “I know my timing is awful… my timing’s always been pretty awful. But none of us knows what’s going to happen over the next few days, and I can’t let you leave without telling you how I feel.”
“I really don’t have time for this right now,” Arran said. Part of him was desperate to hear what Dash wanted to say, but it wasn’t quite as big as the part that wanted to make Dash suffer as much as he had.
“Arran, please,” Dash said, grabbing hold of Arran’s arm. The feeling of his touch was enough to make Arran’s chest swell with a painful mixture of nostalgia, longing, hurt, and anger. “I made a huge mistake. I’m sorry for being such a coward. Will you give me another chance?”
Arran stared at Dash, wondering if he were hallucinating. He’d imagined Dash saying those exact words countless times over the past few days, but the rational part of his brain wouldn’t let his heart believe it. “I don’t understand. What’s changed? Your dad made it pretty clear what would happen if you insisted on dating a Settler.”
“I told him I wouldn’t let him threaten me like that. I explained that you were too important to me… I told him that I love you.”
I love you. The words seemed to flow straight from Arran’s ears into his heart, filling his chest with warmth. But even that sensation wasn’t enough to dispel the hurt that’d calcified like scar tissue.
“I’m sorry, Dash,” Arran said softly. “But it’s too late. I’m with Rees now. I’m not going to shove him aside just because you say you’ve changed your mind. How do I know you’re not going to do it again?”
Dash’s face fell. “I won’t. I promise. Oh, Antares… Arran.” He reached out to squeeze Arran’s hand. “What do I have to do to make you believe me?”
The pressure of Dash’s hand sent another surge of warmth though him, but it wasn’t enough to settle his spinning head. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “You’ve said some awful things. You’ve done some awful things. You know how hard it was for me to trust you in the beginning; it was hard for me to believe that you liked me, that you weren’t playing a cruel trick on me. And then it felt like all my worst fears came true.”
“I know. I’m sorry…” Dash’s voice trailed off and he shook his head, as if to dispel the painful thoughts gathering like storm clouds. He loosened his hold on Arran’s hand, and for a moment Arran thought Dash was going to pull away. But Dash merely moved his hand to Arran’s lower back. “I’m sorry,” Dash said again, though this time it was a whisper against Arran’s ear.
