by Eva Delaney
I blinked and glanced at Antares. He stared expressionless at Castor.
“You lied about who you are,” Rux said. He took a step towards Antares, his fists turning white on his new rifle.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. But still, it sent a pang through my heart. Because Antares had been truthful about which route to take, I had hoped he was good after all.
I should thank Castor. He reminded me that Antares being right about one thing didn’t mean he was trustworthy. What else had Antares lied about?
Was he the one who tipped off Castor? Was this the trap?
“That’s not my name,” Antares said flatly.
Castor snorted as though this was a private joke between them. “Have you been kidnapped?” He grinned at Antares. “Is this the moment we fight back-to-back to escape?”
I gasped and whirled to face Antares.
Twenty-One
I had started to trust Antares. I had let him get close. How could I have been so careless?
How could I have let my guard down?
Rux pointed his gun at him, but Antares did nothing. He didn’t even wince or tell Castor to stop blowing his cover. His cold expression didn’t twitch. His secret was out, he was surrounded by enemies from both the Supremacy and The Uprising, he could be blasted out the airlock, or he could be shot.
And he didn’t even blink.
Orion cursed.
Castor grinned. “They didn’t know that, did they?”
“Did you fly with his fleet?” Orion said.
“Not now,” I said. “Antares isn’t our biggest problem.”
“That’s your nom de plume?” Castor said, amused.
“It was my name before you,” Antares said, simple and cold. But his words hinted at something much deeper.
“Oh, Hyacinth, you didn’t have a name before me,” Castor said.
I shuddered. I’d lost almost everything to the Supremacy, but not who I was.
Antares frowned, as though he was trying not to, but couldn’t stop himself. Antares hadn’t been fully truthful, but there was more to this than Castor was telling us.
“Hamal,” I said, “stuff this royal asshole into a space suit. Confine him in the airlock until I say otherwise.”
“And this one?” Rux said, jabbing Antares with the barrel of his rifle. Antares looked him over as though bored.
“We’ll figure him out after we escape Prince Smug-Pants and his fleet.”
“That’s the best insult you got?” Rux said. At least it distracted him from Antares for a moment.
Antares didn’t lift a finger to help Castor. And Castor didn’t bother to protest his treatment. He even put on the space suit himself. But his glare never left Antares, and Antares’s flat expression never changed.
After Hamal locked Castor in the airlock antechamber, Orion turned to me. “That was amazing. You were amazing.” He reached a tentative hand toward me. A heat rose up my neck and I looked away.
“I’ve never heard anyone else talk to Castor like that,” Antares said.
I tried not to blush under his gaze, but probably failed. “You can kiss my ass later,” I said and rushed to the ladder.
“You promise?” he said, voice all mischievous and charm.
“You leave her alone,” Orion growled.
I couldn’t be bothered with their nonsense now. I scrambled to the main deck and the cockpit. Polaris was in the pilot’s seat, his knuckles white on the controls. I glanced over the scanners.
Castor’s ships were out of weapons range, but barely. They were on top of us when Castor boarded, so his guards must have ordered them to fall back. But they were still following us.
The Firebrand’s shields, double blasters, and hull were little challenge for war ships. The Supremacy wouldn’t have to destroy us to rescue Castor. They just needed to disable our engines, which would be easy enough.
“We can’t outrun them to the gate!” Polaris was nearly hysterical.
“We don’t have to. Give me the controls,” I said with more confidence than I felt. He was right. We couldn’t outrun them to the jumpgate. Even if we did, security at the gate would shoot us down.
Polaris pried his hands from the wheel and surrendered the pilot’s chair. I plopped down. It was strange to settle into an already warm pilot’s chair.
I studied the large merchant ships crowded before the jumpgate. It was a huge risk, but maybe, just maybe, we could hide.
“Let’s turn and fight,” Rux said behind me.
“Hamal, you man the gun,” Orion said. “I’ll take co-pilot.”
“No!” I ordered. We couldn’t win in a shoot-out. But of course, that was what they craved. I had to handle everything myself, like always. It was the only way to ensure nobody did something stupid.
“They’re fucking on top of us, Trix,” Rux roared, his voice filling the cockpit like a bomb.
“Look, you asshole, I don’t have time for your dick swinging when I’m saving our lives. Strap in and shut up.”
“We’re only in this mess because of you,” he shouted.
“Calm down, Rux,” Hamal said.
I ignored them both. I had better things to do, like saving our asses. But first, I needed a distraction.
“Space the sweet prince,” I said, making the title as sarcastic as I possibly could.
“He’s our only way out of this,” Rux roared.
“In ninety seconds, the fastest Supremacy warships are going to be in weapons range. They won’t shoot to destroy us. Instead, they’ll aim for the engines and disable the Firebrand. Then they’ll board. Space him. They’ll panic and change direction to save him instead.”
This time, nobody argued. A thump sounded as someone jumped to the lower deck.
I swerved the Firebrand through a zigzag pattern. That way when Castor was spaced, he’d fly away in the direction of acceleration.
“Castor is gone,” Hamal called.
On the radar, the leading ships pulled to port after the tiny blip that was the prince. I chuckled and dove the Firebrand into the press of waiting cargo ships. I flew with one hand while powering up the radar scramblers with the other.
“I can do that,” Polaris said in the co-pilot’s seat. I ignored him. He made an annoyed sound and knocked my hand away.
“You don’t know—” I started, but the scrambler was up before I could finish. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“Move over, kid,” Orion said, tapping Polaris on the shoulder.
I ground my teeth. “Shut up and let him be.”
I veered between cargo ships. When I was certain Castor’s fleet had lost sight of us, I landed in a gap between a ship’s cargo container and thrusters. The Firebrand’s magnetic lock stuck it to the side of the other ship with its bow pointing up. The rest of the Firebrand became a vertical drop all the way to the kitchen at the stern.
Orion, Rux, and Antares yelped and cursed and crashed into each other until they landed in the kitchen.
Served them right for not buckling in.
Polaris and I turned on the cloaking device and powered down everything except the air recycler. The cloaking device blended the Firebrand into the frigate and masked its signature, but a military grade scanner might pick up the faint electrical signal from the air systems. Leaving them on was a risk.
As the Firebrand’s systems shut down, the ship became so dark that I couldn’t see my hand pressed against my nose. The familiar comforting hum of the engines stopped, and the gentle whoosh of the temperature control vanished. With the Firebrand parked close to the larger ship’s thrusters, things were going to get very hot, very fast. Even the artificial gravity disappeared.
After startled cries, Orion, Antares, and Rux were back to yelling at each other to get out of the way.
I sighed in frustration.
“What now?” Polaris said.
“Now, we wait and hope Castor’s fleet doesn’t find us,” I said.
Twenty-Two
The Fire
brand was hot as hell and echoing with rage.
The temperature rose quickly with the AC down and the ship parked next to the frigate’s massive, hot thrusters. If it were just me here, it wouldn’t matter. I’d wait to see if I lived or died as I’d done on countless smuggling missions. But I wasn’t lucky this time.
The men were doing exactly what I knew they would the moment things became difficult. They were turning on each other.
My hands trembled on the Firebrand’s controls. There was no need to hold them with the ship shut down, but I couldn’t pry them away. In the darkness full of angry shouting and barking, I saw Castor’s sneering face everywhere. I saw his red and black fighter zigzagging through an orange sky as my squad’s ships streaked toward the ground. No matter how well I flew, no matter how well I shot, I couldn’t hit him. He moved out of the way like magic. All my training and skill was for nothing.
It wasn’t just the memory of the battle that made me shake. It was what came before and after.
My team went AWOL. Orion, who had loved me for three years, vanished.
Castor showed them the truth about me: That I wasn’t strong enough to protect them. He showed me the truth about them: That nobody would stand by me when things were hard.
Now it was happening again.
With death about to strike at any moment, the men were turning on each other. They were turning on me.
I couldn’t fight the Supremacy while keeping them from hurting each other and from hurting me. They shouldn’t be here. They couldn’t be here if I was going to save Agent Winters and The Uprising.
“How do you know Castor?” Orion shouted, as though he could terrify Antares into revealing the truth.
Antares gave a humorless laugh. “I betrayed him. You saw it. That’s all that matters.”
“You’re setting us up!” Rux said.
“Pfft. There are much easier ways to take you down.”
“That’s proof enough,” Rux said. “Tie him up in the secret compartment where he can’t sabotage anything.”
The secret compartment didn’t stop him from messing with me. I was glad no one could see me blush in the dark.
“Touch me and you’ll regret it,” Antares said in his calm, icy tone.
I didn’t trust Antares either, but I saw the sad way he looked at Castor. I saw him pull the prince off me. I heard Castor mock him as though Antares had belonged to him. There was more to the bounty hunter than he was telling us. That was why I didn’t trust him. But it was also why I couldn’t dismiss him as scum, either.
Besides, I needed him to tell me where to find Agent Winters before our host ship reached the jumpgate. If he believed we’d space him, he’d be less likely to reveal everything he knew. He’d opt to feed us bits of intel to extend his life. Then I’d never be rid of him.
“Nobody is being locked up,” I said.
“Hamal,” Rux said, “get the rope.”
“You do not give commands on my ship,” I snapped at him.
“If you showed some leadership, I wouldn’t have to.”
Rux’s words were like a slap. They shouldn’t be. I didn’t care what that arrogant blowhard thought of me. But they hurt all the same. Maybe because I feared everyone agreed with him. Maybe because they echoed what I knew deep down.
“Locking people up because the enemy recognizes them is not leadership,” I said.
“Why do you always protect him, Trix?” Rux’s voice dripped with rage and disdain. “He’s not on our side.”
“He’s part of my crew so protecting him is my job, just like it’s my job to protect you, which I can’t fucking do when you’re screeching at each other and at me!” My voice was growing frantic, and I hated the sound of it.
“Hey, Rux, lay off,” Orion said. “If not for Commander Bellatrix, we’d be dead already. Why are you so hard on her?”
“Thank you,” I said, but Rux scoffed and cut me off.
“Why am I hard on her? Because she’s a fucking coward. She ran. She abandoned the rebellion, and her cowardice is going to get us killed.”
I shook all over because he was right. I ran. I screwed up. Rux saw right through me. He didn’t fall for my lies like the others.
I thought his disdainful comments didn’t bother me. But they had been seeping through me like water through soil. Now they flooded back to the surface, bringing up ugly rotten feelings I’d been trying to keep buried.
But I couldn’t let his accusations stand. I’d look weak before the others and lose their respect too. “I’m here fighting to keep us alive.”
“Keeping us alive? We could die at any moment because of you.”
“I’m doing my best,” I said. If taking the prince hostage and outrunning his fleet wasn’t enough to prove I was loyal, then what was?
“Nobody could do better,” Polaris whispered. His hand squeezed my wrist and I flinched away. The last thing I needed was pity.
“We all knew the risk,” Hamal said in his soothing voice. “Come on, Rux, let’s step back and calm down.”
Rux muttered something that I couldn’t hear. The quiet that followed wasn’t the comfortable safe silence of my ship when I traveled alone. It was heavy and stifling like before a storm. It made my stomach bunch with anxiety.
“He’s like that because he’s afraid of betrayal,” Hamal said somewhere behind me.
Rux could probably hear Hamal. To my surprise, he didn’t argue back. Maybe Hamal was right.
“He’ll come around,” Hamal added.
“Until then, we’ve got to keep him quiet,” Orion whispered, but not quietly enough.
“I don’t need your help,” I snapped. It was a lie. I desperately wanted their help and to know without doubt that I deserved it. But it was a careless thing to want. This crew was already tearing itself apart. And I didn’t know how to keep them together, just like the last time I faced Castor.
The darkness in the Firebrand was closing in around me. I needed to escape, but there was nowhere to escape to, short of donning a suit and spacing myself.
The best I could do was my cabin. So, I unstrapped from the safety webbing and drifted out of the cockpit. I felt along the wall and grabbed the doorframe of my room to pull myself in. As a rare mercy, I didn’t run into any of the men on the way.
I floated weightless in the pitch dark, listening to the soft murmur of voices. When I had been part of a fighter squad, I was like a young sun in a star cluster. Our lights mingled and set the sky aflame, lighting the way for all people in the galaxy.
But like all things, star clusters drifted apart. This current one was dying before it even bloomed to full light. If only I had ditched them before I learned that they trusted Castor’s rage more than my skill. If only I had ditched them before I let them get to me.
Now, losing them hurt.
“Cali,” Orion said and poked my shoulder.
Something about him saying my name—not flirty, but soft—spread warmth through my chest.
“I need to tell you something,” he said.
Twenty-Three
Orion didn’t say it with words, not at first.
His rough hand found mine in the dark and squeezed gently. Orion was never one for talking about emotions. For the longest time I doubted he had any besides horny and cocky. But with that small gesture, no flirting, or teasing, just a light squeeze, I knew what he meant.
He longed for comfort and warmth after facing the man who had torn us apart and who might kill us today.
I should have pulled away. It was the smart thing to do. But in truth, I needed the comfort. I squeezed his hand and relished in the warmth of his touch. Not desperate and hot and needy like in the compartment, but steady and calming. I needed it more than I knew.
“They’re turning on me,” I said, my voice wavered.
“I haven’t,” Orion said. “I’ve thought about you every day since I met you six years ago. My thoughts never left you.”
“Thoughts are not enough.”
“I came back,” he said.
He was the first one, the only one, to come back. My parents said that they would return, but never did. My sister promised to come home from the mines, but never did. My mates who went AWOL didn’t even promise that much. They just walked away. At least they had the decency not to make a vow they couldn’t keep.
But Orion came back, long after I had given up hope that he would.
He pressed his lips against my ear. I let my eyes drift close. “I won’t leave again,” he promised, his voice low and breathy.
I wanted to believe him, so I could hold onto the comfort of being close to someone. But I knew better. Nothing he said or did could change the past. And nothing could change that the rest of the crew was turning on me even after they had acted like they cared for me, even after Hamal’s kindness and probing gaze, Polaris’s confession and smiles, and Antares’s obvious desire.
Orion took a long shaky breath against my neck. “Do you still see it? The ships falling from the orange sky?”
I swallowed a sob. “Every day.”
“I don’t know how to forget, either. I didn’t see your ship crash. After I hit the trees—”
“You let yourself be shot down to save me.”
“I thought if anyone could turn the battle around, it was you.”
I gave a bitter laugh. “You could have died, and I…I couldn’t do anything. I went down anyway.”
“When I climbed from the canopy, I couldn’t see you anywhere in the sky. There were only black and red ships. I thought I had lost you. I felt like something was dying inside me.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. Did he leave because he couldn’t stand to see me in danger anymore? Did he realize that he couldn’t keep me safe, and I couldn’t keep him safe?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“All I remember is Castor’s ship circling in while I pulled Marlon from a crashed fighter,” I said. “Like he’s circling in now.”
