We paused, foreheads against each other’s, gasping. Qole brushed a few strands of hair from her face and gave a shaky laugh. “I propose a decision that we work together. Because I still have to stop your sister.”
“Funny you should mention, as I might be able to lend a hand.” For the first time, what I was about to say didn’t fill me with dread. I would be of use again, able to help Qole. Here, in this moment, that desire overwhelmed any other consideration. “I’m going to challenge Solara’s claims.”
She pulled back, her eyes searching my face. “Wait, what? I thought that was impossible. Everyone thinks you killed your parents.”
“Devrak doesn’t think so, and he believes that Solara is sowing enough discontent that I can sway support in my favor, both in the family and out.” It felt good to say. It felt good to feel, and know I was making choices, even if they might be impossible ones. Eton’s earlier plan to stop Qole had sounded right, but it hadn’t felt right. And yet, it helped, in this case, that it wasn’t necessarily a choice between instinct and logic. “Considering he’s the head of our intelligence, he’s the one person I might trust to know what he’s talking about.”
Qole’s face hardened. “Did he have anything to do with what happened with Arjan in Dracorva…?”
“No,” I said quickly. “My father kept that side of the research hidden even from Devrak. He knew he wouldn’t agree.” Even so, I couldn’t imagine how Qole or Arjan would ever trust a Dracorte again. If they didn’t trust me now, would they trust me when I declared myself king of the people who had tortured them?
“I see.” Qole disentangled herself from me, straightening out her jacket. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking until she looked up with a bright light in her eyes. “That just might change everything.”
I felt a little trickle of ice form in my stomach. She was right; it would. And not all of it would be for the better.
If my face showed any doubt, she didn’t notice, her mind on other things. “Despite it all, I would have loved to see the expression on your sister’s face when she found out you were alive and kicking.”
Right, of course. Her kiss had nearly driven the whole point of this conversation from my mind, but now I had to tell her before we faced the crew again.
“Yes, about that.” I steeled myself. “There’s something you should know. About Eton.”
* * *
Qole slammed open the door to her quarters and strode out, eyes black.
I could feel it radiating from her, not just the anger, but Shadow, a palpable field that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. If I’d been hoping to calm her down beforehand, I’d failed. The last time I had seen Qole like this, she had threatened to throw Eton out of the airlock. Now I was afraid she actually might do it. Or worse. He was hardly my favorite person in the systems, but Qole would regret it, and, if I was being charitable, he didn’t deserve to die by the hand of the person he had been trying to protect. After all, we’d both done distasteful things in service of that goal.
And, if I was being less charitable and more utilitarian, we needed him in the weapons turret for whatever was to come.
“Qole,” I started, just before we reached the hold. I reached for her shoulder, but she batted my hand away without turning.
“Don’t,” she snapped. “He tried to get you killed, and lied to me. I’m done putting up with him trying to make decisions for me. I’m the captain.” She paused as raised voices reached us through the door to the hold. Apparently, Devrak and Eton also had some vehemence to go around.
“I don’t give a good melting piece of scrap about the systems or royals. It can all burn,” Eton snarled. “No, better, I would prefer that it burn. Its time has come.”
“The man I knew would not have betrayed someone who trusted him.” Devrak’s voice was quieter, but it was hard and brittle as chipped stone.
We walked out onto the catwalk that ringed the hold. Below us, surrounded by the green streaks of accumulated space scum, Devrak and Eton were squared off within a few feet of one another. Devrak stood straight, disappointment and anger in his eyes. Eton, his utilitarian combat gear at distinct odds with Devrak’s sleek armor, looked oddly defensive, if furious, his shoulders hunched.
“The prince is an idiot who believed the lies he was fed,” he replied, his voice grating. “Now I’ve learned to be as ruthless as royals, but to use it to defend innocent people against their games. You should be on my side.”
“Was that a game you were playing with Nevarian and Suvis?”
“You know how royals are! It’s okay to sacrifice regular citizens’ lives for the greater good, as long as they’re unknowns, but nobility—oh no. They’re worth more.” He stabbed his fingers at Devrak. “It’s a game I learned from the best, same as you. Pick your cause and win, no matter the cost. If I could give myself up to accomplish the same end, I would. But if that royal wreck can save Qole, then he’s damn well going to, if I have to drag him to it. Even if it takes his life.”
“The lesson,” Devrak said sadly, “was not victory at any cost. The lesson was, is, the right action at any cost.”
“I listened to that. I listened so well! And it becomes the same damn thing. Now they’re both dead,” Eton shouted, inches away from Devrak.
Neither Qole nor I were dead, so they had to be talking about someone else. Eton not only knew Devrak, but they had a history.
Apparently it was significant.
All expression left Devrak’s face. “And who do you blame for that?”
“Blame?” Eton suddenly began to pace. “Don’t worry. I know it’s my fault. But it’s my fault because I listened. I listened to the lies, and you can damn well bet I won’t again.” He lifted his leg high and stomped down on an empty storage container, crumbling the entire corner of it like a refreshment can, muscles bulging. I winced. “They killed her, Devrak,” Eton continued, “and she had nothing to do with it.”
Her? Was this the girl he’d admitted killing during his time as a mercenary? But no, he’d done that after leaving Dracorva.
“Eton.” Devrak paused, searching for words. “As bad as you feel, you can well imagine that I feel worse. And any failure in her death lies with me, not you.”
I had no clue whom they meant, but somehow interrupting to ask didn’t seem polite.
Eton’s shoulders heaved as he stood, only breathing, visibly trying to wrestle himself under control.
“You cannot let your quest for redemption twist you into what you hate,” Devrak added quietly. “Into someone like Suvis.”
“So what if I use him? He’s made himself into a tool. Solara’s pet.”
“I’ve taken your measure both in and outside the arenas. You’re better than that.”
Eton’s face contorted in disdain. “I’ve left everything in that place. There is not a bolt of that with me now.”
With a slight shift in his balance, Devrak changed position and his fist darted out to Eton’s face. Eton blocked it without thinking, countering with his own strike, which Devrak trapped and reversed.
After that, I couldn’t follow their movements, they were so fast. For several seconds, they shifted across the floor, their arms flowing and folding around one another like vines. I wondered if I hadn’t simply been lucky the first time I had fought with Eton—one of many moments with him involving airlocks. It occurred to me that he was genuinely bad for my health.
The two fighters stopped, and Devrak disengaged, bowing slightly. “It would seem you have not left everything behind. If you’ve kept that, there are other skills you have that would be useful to people. To help them.”
Eton shrugged. “I’m helping this crew.”
“No, you’re not.” Qole’s voice echoed strangely in the hold, louder than it should have. She jumped over the railing, landing on her feet easily despite the drop,
and stalked to Eton. She was a fraction of his size in height and width, but he took a step back.
“Qole…”
“Shut up. You have disrespected me from the first day on this ship. You have disobeyed my orders and challenged my decisions, both of which have endangered this crew and my command. But I put up with it, I put up with you. You know why?” Qole’s voice could have cut through the hull. “Because I told myself that you were a good person.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Eton looked defeated.
“You believe you can dictate the lives of others to get what you want? You think you left the royals behind? The lies, the backstabbing, the dirty deals? No. You are exactly like the worst of them.”
Eton’s face went white. Qole reached up and grabbed the lapels of his combat shirt, effortlessly pulling him to her eye level. There was a long pause, and when Qole spoke, her voice was quiet, hard.
“Listen to me. Because I think you do care about the outcome of this battle, I’m still going to put you in the turret. You will do your job. And when we are done…we will continue this conversation.”
The ship comm beeped, and Basra’s voice cut into the tense standoff, the urgency in it so unusual it arrested us more effectively than a warning klaxon. “Captain, you need to come to the bridge. The fleet isn’t trying to land on Alaxak. They are maneuvering bombardment platforms into orbit.”
* * *
Given her abilities, it was easy to forget that Qole hadn’t necessarily studied military technology. We were now getting a grim education from the bridge of the Kaitan.
Through the viewport, I could barely pick out a silver speck glistening on the dark side of Alaxak. At that distance, it looked innocent, peaceful even. The infopad that Telu had silently passed to Qole as she’d made her way onto the bridge was what told the true story.
“It was inevitable that word would eventually get out about our resistance in Chorda, and as soon as I picked up on the chatter, Basra got weirded out by the new positioning of this,” Telu explained. “We thought it was just a freighter, hauling whatever crap the governor might have wanted with him. They’ve been blocking long-range comms, and no one has really been able to get a good scan on the ships. Hiat has probably the best sensors, and this is the readout I got from him.” Her slim fingers deftly highlighted the dots in question. “We amplified a vid feed. Here.” She flicked her hand, and the image scaled up dramatically.
“A Model 218 Orbital Peace Platform,” Devrak said gravely. “Laser or photon based.”
“Peace Platform?” Telu glanced up at him. “You have a real sick sense of humor, pal.”
“Thank Treznor-Nirmana. They make and name them.”
“It has a few starfighters stationed around it, but otherwise, how good are its defenses?” Arjan asked, refusing to look at Devrak. He focused on the readouts from the copilot’s chair.
“It doesn’t have any.” Eton’s voice was more subdued than I would have thought possible. Good.
“By the time these are deployed, the area is supposed to be clear,” Devrak said. “They’re intended to help with atmospheric invasion or planetary pacification. The battle carrier and its starfighters will be the only thing protecting it.”
“She’s positioning it over Chorda,” Qole breathed, and she looked up at me, certainty on her face. “She’ll hold the place hostage until we obey. Telu, comm the city immediately. They need to evacuate.”
I shook my head, the weight of attempting to fight my family’s military might settling on me. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Solara hadn’t left anything to chance up until now, and it made sense that she had come not simply with force, but overwhelming force. She intended to break the will of Alaxak.
The energy on the bridge changed. It wasn’t Shadow; it was the gravity in Qole’s voice. “To your stations. Basra, comm the rest of the captains. We can’t let that platform get into place. Nev, help Telu in trying to compromise its systems. Devrak, you’re here to give me advice. The rest of you know what to do.” She was in her captain’s seat as she spoke, the Kaitan coming to life under her touch. “Solara is going to use it to threaten us into submission if we don’t take it out.”
“No,” Devrak said sadly. “She intends to simply subdue you.” He pointed his finger at the nearest video feed. “This is how she responds to resistance.”
The platform was shaped like a disk, white with streamlined edges. Our family crest spun lazily as the platform rotated around a tall spire that extended from the top and bottom. The spire flashed silver in the reflected sunlight, a brightness that was steadily eclipsed by a glow from within. It grew more and more intense before a final flash announced that the charge cycle was complete. Golden beams streamed to the surface below. They would have been beautiful if they hadn’t heralded death.
We were too far away to do anything about it.
“Comm them! Comm the surface!” Qole shouted, and the bridge filled with panicked chatter as everyone attempted to reach someone, anyone, anywhere, to warn them of what was about to happen. It was a futile gesture. Our long-range communications were still effectively blocked by the fleet.
Only Telu, with her head start and skill, was fast enough to use the QUIN and reach some of the major settlements on the surface. Some responded, communities that were already informed of the governor’s imminent arrival. But her contacts in Chorda winked out of existence a few moments later.
“Ancestors, look,” Arjan said, horrified. He had brought up some of the video feeds in Chorda, used to broadcast visual weather conditions. Lances of golden energy reached down to the ground, disappeared, and reappeared again a fraction of a second later in another location. Behind them, smoking craters and molten rubble remained. Structures that withstood a direct blast glowed red-hot, or began to list and melt moments later, tiny figures bursting out of them, only to be vaporized by another golden beam.
Chorda was being decimated, and all we could do was watch.
Shadow filled my eyes as I looked down at Alaxak. My skin, every cell in my body, felt stretched tight with it. The black film across my vision shaded the flares of death and destruction in the viewport surrounding my captain’s chair, but they didn’t mute the bone-deep horror sounding at my core. Or the rage that rose from it like an all-consuming fire that burned long after the golden beams stopped striking Chorda. The attack lasted for only a minute or so, but it felt unending.
Ancestors. How many had died? How much damage had been done to the oldest settlement on Alaxak, where my people had first set down on our mostly frozen planet millennia ago? I almost couldn’t fathom it—what I had seen from space or on the surface feeds. But I knew, with sudden bright clarity, what needed to be done.
They would burn my planet? Then I would burn them down.
“Get ready,” I said over the inter-ship comm, addressing our fleet. “Everyone in position.”
The ships outside reacted like my crew already had, hurrying into the new formations that we’d decided upon as we’d waited. Jerra and Hiat, whom I’d made squadron leaders, led groups equal to my own—we each had about a hundred ships following us. All ten vessels that had reloaded with Shadow were with me.
Jerra’s voice sounded strained over the comms. “We still have to hold. Just for a few more minutes until the moon’s shadow brings us a bit closer in orbit, or else they’ll notice us too early and blow us to bits before we can even reach them.”
“I know.” I did, even though my fingers clenched on the throttle. To have to wait to strike back was almost too much for me to bear. My jaw creaked under the strain of my clenched teeth, trying to hold in a sob, or maybe a scream.
Everyone else seemed to be doing the same, just breathing. Breathing through the pain. Eton had bounded for the weapons turret, as if glad to be the one doing the shooting instead of being in my line of sight. Basra and Telu were already at
their usual stations below. Nev and Devrak had followed me to the bridge, while Arjan assumed the copilot’s station.
“Wait,” Nev said. At first I thought he meant that he wanted that spot, but then he shook himself, blinking, like he was coming out of a stupor. He looked out at the enemy fleet. His family’s fleet. “Qole, you can’t go up against that battle carrier.”
“I’ve taken down a destroyer before,” I said with far more chilly confidence than I felt. “This can’t be much different.”
“It is different, and you were inside that Treznor destroyer you disabled and…” You used Shadow, he probably wanted to say, but didn’t. Maybe because he didn’t want to give me any ideas. “You won’t get anywhere near a battle carrier. It will annihilate you, all of you. Even if you get the jump on them.”
“I don’t care. I need to get to that orbital platform, anyway, before they decide to use it again to annihilate my planet. It doesn’t have the defenses the battle carrier does, anyway.”
“And I’m saying you won’t make it there, either.” He paused, and his eyes widened. “Unless…Devrak and I need to get on that ship. Don’t engage with the carrier at all, and don’t get near it until we send word. And if we don’t get back to you…well then, none of us will have to worry about anything for much longer.”
Because then we’d be dead, I imagined.
“Your Highness,” Devrak said, “what’s your plan?”
“We need to take control of the battle carrier,” Nev said.
Telu barked a laugh.
Devrak’s eyebrows rose. “I’m assuming not by force, with just the two of us.”
Nev shook his head. “If we can’t convince one of our captains, how can we convince a planet full of our generals?”
I didn’t know quite what he meant by that, but Devrak pursed his lips, as if weighing some risk. “Of course I have the rank, but…”
Shadow Call Page 15
