by Kass Morgan
Arran flung his arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice muffled. “I know you didn’t have a choice. And I know how much you risked to protect us during the attack.” He let her go and stepped back, his cheeks flushing at his uncharacteristically effusive display of emotion.
Orelia was blushing too, but more from pleasure than embarrassment. “Is Rex also here? Or is he back at the Academy?”
“He’s here somewhere,” Vesper said, glancing over her shoulder. “He’s probably on duty in another part of the ship. We’ll make sure he finds you before the peace talks continue tomorrow. I know he’s dying to see you.”
“Can I talk to you a moment?” a soft, deep voice said. Orelia turned to see Zafir standing next to her.
“Of course.” She glanced at Vesper and Arran, who saluted and said hasty goodbyes, leaving Zafir and Orelia on their own.
“Do you think you have time for a quick walk before you return to your ship?”
Orelia looked over at General Greet, who was speaking to Admiral Haze, both of them looking relaxed and engaged. “I think so. If we’re quick.”
She followed Zafir out of the cargo hold and down a series of narrow corridors until he stopped suddenly and turned to face her.
“I owe you an enormous apology,” Zafir said. “What I said the other day, about not being able to trust you, it wasn’t kind and it wasn’t true. I was just… taken aback by the revelation. I was confused, embarrassed, and honestly… I was a little scared, which is why I lashed out. I’m sorry.”
“What were you scared of?”
“You got past my defenses, literally and figuratively,” he said, his voice a mixture of tenderness and bewilderment. “I had to face a number of unsettling facts: I didn’t notice that a first-year cadet was an enemy spy, and I developed feelings for a student. It made me feel like a failure, like I was out of control.”
“I understand that.” Orelia had spent most of her life learning how to put herself in other people’s heads, but she’d never stopped to imagine what Zafir must’ve been feeling over the past few weeks. He hadn’t just been angry with her; he’d been furious with himself. “Though we’re nearly the same age. I had to pretend to be younger than I was to pose as a cadet. I’m sorry about that.”
“You’re done apologizing.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Because of you and your friends, the war could be over soon.”
“It’s a little hard to wrap my head around,” she admitted. “So what happens next?”
“I have no idea,” Zafir said with a laugh. “I guess I’ll have to redo the syllabus for my counterintelligence classes, to start.”
Orelia smiled. “I wasn’t going to be the one to say it, but your lecture on ‘what we know about the Specters’ could use some work.”
“You’re right. I’ll need to add a whole section about how staggeringly intelligent they are, how brave… how beautiful.”
She shivered at the word and felt bold enough to whisper, “I was scared that you were going to hate me forever.”
He brought his face toward hers. “And I was afraid you’d only pretended to care about me.”
“I’m not that good a liar,” she said into his ear, then brought her lips to his mouth and kissed him lightly.
“I’m glad,” he murmured as he placed his hand on her lower back and gently pulled her toward him.
A current of electricity shot through her, burning away every thought, every sensation except for the warmth of Zafir’s touch. But then the sound of distant footsteps made her start.
“What’s wrong?” Zafir whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin.
“I thought I heard someone.”
But instead of glancing over his shoulder to investigate the source of the sound, he wrapped his arm around Orelia’s waist and pulled her closer. “It doesn’t matter. You’re no longer my student. The war is almost over. There’s nothing to hide anymore.”
CHAPTER 18
CORMAK
The success of the first day of peace talks had left the attendees in an almost giddy mood, and a decidedly un-military, festive atmosphere had spread throughout the ship. Superior officers turned a blind eye as lower-ranking crew members abandoned their duties to discuss the day’s events. A few of the cadets had clearly had too much to drink, and Ward was leading a particularly rowdy bunch in a series of increasingly loud toasts, his cheeks growing red as his eyes turned glassy.
Cormak found himself standing apart from the crowd, watching everything with a strange air of detachment. Intellectually, he knew he was witnessing history unfold around him, and that years from now he’d marvel at the fact that he’d been there. Yet it was nearly impossible to focus on anything except his mounting fear about whether Ward would follow through on his threat to turn Cormak in. Relax, he told himself. You need to act natural. There was no immediate cause for concern. He never would’ve gotten anywhere near the battlecraft, let alone been allowed to attend the peace summit, if anyone besides Ward knew that Cormak was an imposter. Either the big-talking Tridian had wimped out, or else he hadn’t found anyone to take him seriously.
Cormak was just about to slip away when Ward’s gaze fell on him. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the glassy look gave way to a cold shrewdness. “Whatcha doing, Cormak?” he called loudly.
Get out, Cormak thought. Get out now and no one will notice. They’ll just assume Ward was being drunk and ridiculous as usual. But as Cormak turned around and began to walk casually away, Ward’s voice grew louder and sharper. “I’d like to introduce all of you to Cormak Phobos. Turns out there was a little mix-up with his application, but good ole Cormak didn’t let a little thing like not getting into the Academy stop him.”
All around him, Cormak could hear confused murmurs and felt the weight of curious, confused gazes. No one told Ward to shut up, and emboldened by the attention, he stood and staggered over toward Cormak. “Bet you thought I wouldn’t do it, right? But I just had a nice little chat with Commander Stepney, and he seemed very interested in what I had to say. The game’s over. You lost.”
He’s bluffing, Cormak thought, willing himself to stay calm. “What’d you do? Spray-paint it on his office? That’s your preferred method of communication, isn’t it?”
Ward smiled, a response Cormak found far more ominous than a scowl. “Stepney stormed out of the summit, furious about the fact that someone in the fleet planted the malware. I heard him shouting at his staff, so I decided to help out. I told him that you were here under false pretenses, which proved you were capable of shady shit. He thanked me and sent one of his underlings off to look into your records.”
Get out. Get out. Get out, Cormak’s heart thudded, like someone banging on the window of a room filling with smoke. Ward wasn’t nearly smart or creative enough to come up with a lie like this just to mess with him. He didn’t know what Stepney’s aid would discover now that the medical records had been updated, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
He never should’ve gotten on the battlecraft bound for the peace summit. At least back at the Academy he would’ve had a chance, albeit a miniscule one, of stowing away on a shuttle or transport ship bound for Tri. He probably wouldn’t have lasted long as a fugitive on an unfamiliar planet, but at least he would’ve had a shot. Whereas now he was trapped parsecs away from the Quatra System, surrounded by every top-ranking official in the fleet.
As he watched two officers behind Ward clink glasses of “borrowed” nitro spirit, he realized this was his one shot. If he was going to leave, it had to be now, while everyone was distracted by the successful first day of peace talks. Everyone’s guard would be down, and there might even be less security on the top deck, where the fightercraft were docked. Without another word to Ward, Cormak spun around and hurried into the corridor. It took every ounce of self-control not to break into a sprint. Time was of the essence, but if anyone spotted him looking sweaty and frantic,
it was all over. His life depended on looking like his life wasn’t in danger at all.
The chance of gaining access to a fightercraft and then flying it off the ship was a thousand in one, but he had to try. He refused to spend what remained of his life in a Quatra Fleet prison, counting down the moments until his execution.
The top deck was normally a sea of activity with mechanics working on fightercraft, infantry troops loading and unloading gear, and officers performing inspections. But to his relief, there were only a handful of people, none of whom seemed particularly interested in the sudden appearance of a cadet.
“You have entered a restricted area,” his monitor announced. “Access denied.”
“Dismiss,” Cormak said under his breath. The monitor was only supposed to be removed by a medic, but there was obviously no time for that. He brought his hand to his ear, clenched his teeth, and yanked, grimacing as he tore the small metal device from his skin.
He took a deep breath and began walking across the launchport with the calm, purposeful strides of someone following orders—not trying to make a desperate escape before he was arrested for treason.
He didn’t know if he’d actually be able to fly a fightercraft on his own. He’d only flown simulators, and since he’d been their squadron’s captain, not the pilot, it’d been a long time since he’d done that much. And even if he somehow managed to take off without being shot, fly it without crashing, and land without attracting the attention of the local police, Cormak had no idea where he was supposed to go. He didn’t have any money, and there was no one in the solar system who cared about him enough to risk their life to hide him. He supposed there was a chance his old boss, Sol, the Devak arms dealer, would help him in exchange for ten or twenty years of indentured servitude, but that option seemed only marginally more attractive than moldering in an icy, subterranean prison.
The thought landed in his chest with a painful thud. The only people who cared about him were here, on this battlecraft, parsecs from civilization. And the only way to save his life was to leave them behind forever.
He imagined Vesper’s look of hurt and confusion when she realized that he’d left without a word, and the image was almost enough to make him reconsider his plan. His chances of surviving his escape were so low, perhaps it was better to stay, to get to say a proper goodbye, to save her the pain of a second betrayal.
I need to send her a message, he thought, fumbling with his link. But what could he possibly say? He’d spent the past few months searching for the words to explain everything to her, and he’d always come up short.
Vesper, he began. I don’t think there’s anything I can say that’ll keep you from hating me, but I have to try. My real—
The shrill blare of an alarm cut through the drone of fightercraft, and the lights began to flash. “Intruder alert… intruder alert… Cease all operations immediately and secure the area… Intruder alert…”
“No,” Cormak whispered, cursing under his breath. He looked around wildly, unsure what to do. It’d be stupid to run and draw attention to himself if the alarm was just part of a drill. But then another sound filled the silence between the alarm beeps—the sound of stomping boots. With dread expanding in his stomach, Cormak turned to see about a half dozen guards coming his way, the looks on their faces a far cry from the easygoing expressions of the people celebrating downstairs. They were led by a grave Commander Stepney, who shouted, “That’s him!”
Cormak didn’t resist as the guard wrenched his arms behind his back and snapped restraints on his wrists.
“Cormak Phobos, you’re under arrest for suspicion of a terrorist act resulting in loss of life,” Commander Stepney said, a note of triumph in his voice.
Cormak had replayed this moment so many times in his head, there was something almost surreal about seeing it play out in reality. He felt strangely detached, as if watching it from a distance, the sounds muted and indistinct. He almost didn’t notice Stepney’s confusing choice of words.
“Terrorism?” Cormak repeated. “What are you talking about?”
Commander Stepney’s face twisted into a mask of disgust. “There’s no point in playing dumb, cadet. We know you’re an imposter. It was you who installed the malware that caused that fatal explosion.”
“What?” Cormak spat out as the accusation jolted him back to alertness. They thought he was responsible for the explosion that killed Sula? “Why the hell would I have done that? My friends were on that ship.” The girl I love was on that ship.
“Because you’re a Devak terrorist, that’s why,” Commander Stepney said. “And you’re going to pay for what you’ve done.”
Cormak didn’t answer. He couldn’t have spoken even if he’d wanted to. It felt like every cell in his body was paralyzed by fear. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. The only muscle that hadn’t turned to ice was his heart, which was beating so fast it nearly drowned out all other sounds.
He didn’t resist as they began marching him across the launchport, a thousand curious eyes boring into him. I’m sorry, Rex, he thought. And for the first time since Rex’s death, Cormak found himself wishing, praying, that his big brother wasn’t watching over him.
CHAPTER 19
VESPER
Vesper jogged along the corridor. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late for her shift patrolling the weapons bay. It was unlike her to run behind schedule like this, but in all the excitement of the peace talks, she’d lost track of time.
“Vesper!” At the sound of her name, she turned to see Frey running toward her, looking uncharacteristically ruffled himself. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said, breathing heavily.
“What’s wrong?”
“Rex was just arrested. I was finishing up a maintenance shift, and I saw it happen. They’ve taken him to the brig.” The words poured out of him at a speed at odds with his usual languid demeanor.
“What do you mean arrested?” Vesper asked, praying that she’d misheard.
“Commander Stepney had Rex arrested for planting malware on your patrol ship,” he said, wringing his hands as he spoke.
“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he even want to blow up the ship?”
“Stepney says he’s a… terrorist,” Frey said with a wince.
Vesper let out a high-pitched laugh of disbelief. “A terrorist,” she repeated. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Anyone who’s spoken to him for five seconds would know he’s the last person who’d ever do something like that.”
“I know, I know,” Frey said, a bit too quickly. “But Stepney seems convinced…”
“This is all just a misunderstanding,” Vesper said firmly. “I’m going to talk to Stepney. We’ll sort this out.” Her confident tone belied the panic bubbling in her chest. She knew it was no misunderstanding. Stepney was looking for someone to blame, and for whatever reason, he’d chosen Rex as his scapegoat.
Vesper expected Frey to protest against doing something so rash, in such obvious breach of protocol, but he merely nodded, which somehow made the situation feel even more terrifying. “You’d better hurry. I heard from one of the guards that they’re planning to transport Rex back to Tri in a few hours.”
A wave of panic-tinged nausea filled her stomach at the idea of Rex in shackles, being led onto a transport ship. She could see him with his head held high, doing his best to put on a brave face but unable to mask the panic in his eyes. She couldn’t let that happen. She had to do something, even if it meant putting her career on the line. She’d rather be dishonorably discharged from the Quatra Fleet than let Rex go through that sort of ordeal.
She hastily thanked Frey for his help, then took off at a run, ignoring the looks of confusion and alarm on the people she passed. She sprinted to the officers’ mess hall, and when she found it empty, she ran to the command deck but was stopped by a guard before she could reach the stairs. “I need to talk to Commander Stepney,” she said breathlessly.
“You need to return to your post, cadet,” he said with a frown. “The commander’s busy.”
“Please,” she insisted. “It’s urgent.”
“And you urgently need to return to your post before I report you for insubordination.”
“I have a message from my mother, Admiral Haze,” she said desperately. She’d never used her mother’s name like this before, but she couldn’t imagine a better time to try it out.
“If it’s that urgent, then she should contact the commander directly instead of sending her daughter,” the guard said with a sneer.
“It’s too sensitive for the network. That’s why she sent me.”
The guard sighed. “He’s gone back to his quarters. But if you wait here for a few minutes, I might be able to…” He trailed off as Vesper spun around and, without another word, began sprinting down the corridor toward the officers’ private quarters.
I won’t just get dishonorably discharged for this, she thought as she ran. I’m going to be arrested myself. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for saving Rex. For in that moment, she knew with absolute assurance that she loved him, would always love him, even if he didn’t love her. And if she let something happen to him, she’d never forgive herself.
But by the time she reached Commander Stepney’s door, her courage began to fail her. What was she going to say? What evidence did she have that Rex was innocent except for a feeling in her gut, an unshakable belief in his honor, bravery, and innate goodness?
The sound of her heart slamming against her rib cage was louder than the pounding of her fist against the door. She waited for a moment, but there was no answer. She knocked again and felt somehow both disappointed and relieved when there was still no response.
