Starbreaker

by Amanda Bouchet

  Bridgebane scowled. “I don’t need protection.”

  Mwende snorted as if that were the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “This?” She pointed the key card at herself. “Is not what I was suggesting.”

  “Yes, I understood that, Sanaa. Thank you for your input.” Bridgebane pocketed the tablet instead of giving it back to her. He took the cooler with the blood bags also.

  Mwende shoved the key card into the bag she still carried, muttering again in her own language.

  “Protect me? For two whole weeks?” I rolled my eyes. “What a trial!”

  The lieutenant’s furious gaze blasted into me, ink-dark and wholly terrifying.

  My uncle’s back stiffened. “I did just erase footage of you wreaking havoc on Korabon,” he quietly thundered. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sweep a major security incident on a paroled planet under the rug without anyone asking questions? I had to pass it off as a surprise training exercise only I knew about—which is incredibly suspicious.”

  My heart thumped in surprise and then constricted with sudden unexpected contrition. He’d done that? For me? “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he grumbled.

  An uncomfortable tension crackled between us, hot and prickly and too filled with negative energy for me to let him off the hook like I almost wanted. “What about the eighteen years before now? What about the eight years of my life when you had no idea where I was and didn’t give a shit?”

  “Not knowing and not caring are two different things,” Bridgebane said gruffly. “What would searching for you have accomplished other than drawing unwanted attention your way?”

  “I don’t know.” I shook my head at him, totally incapable of understanding how he functioned. I used to worship this man. Now, it was as if we were two lines on parallel trajectories. We would never meet in the middle. “Maybe I wouldn’t have thought you were such a huge bastard?” Sanaa growled. I growled back at her. To my uncle, I snapped, “Maybe you could have gotten me out of prison?”

  Things I tried never to think about gripped my throat in a stranglehold I couldn’t breathe around. Fumes in my eyes, inmates crying, the crack of a whip, the dreaded shudder of an explosion. The raw taste of fear on the back of my tongue like stale food and contaminated water. I swallowed.

  “Keep your voice down, Tess,” Shade warned. “People are watching.”

  I looked to the side. A tour group had stopped just beyond the stand of kimmery trees and was setting up a late-lunch picnic. They slanted us curious glances.

  I slipped my arm through Shade’s and smiled at him, his face a little blurry through the hot moisture gathering in my eyes. “You’re right.” I laughed—through clenched teeth. “Let’s pretend everything’s fantastic and that the second most powerful person in the galaxy didn’t leave his niece and only living family to rot in a hard-labor prison mine.”

  Shade smiled back at me, handsome as hell despite his beat-up face and the seriousness in the one eye that still opened. “Forty-two percent of the people sent to Hourglass Mile die within the first year there. You’re a survivor. You don’t need him.”

  I glanced at Bridgebane. He didn’t say anything. Nothing to excuse or defend himself. No apology for his actions. He’d turned into an emotionless statue again, which I was starting to hate more than anything. He blew hot and cold so much that I didn’t know where the fucking wind was coming from. I only knew that it was likely to slam into me hard enough to cause permanent damage.

  “Of course she needs him,” Sanaa Mwende sliced in with authority. She scowled at me. “And your blinders make you no better than a robot. You only see what’s been programmed into you.”

  I scowled back at her. “That’s bullshit. You don’t know me.”

  “Then stop acting like we’re the enemy.”

  “You are the enemy,” I sputtered.

  Mwende stepped forward. We were about the same height, close to six feet, but somehow, I felt as though she towered over me. “I’ve half a mind to pin your eyelids open until you see.”

  My brows rose. “As far as threats go, that’s original.”

  “You’ll find I’m full of surprises. You’ll get to discover some of them—while I’m your bodyguard.” She glared at my uncle. “I think we’ve stayed here long enough, don’t you, General?”

  Bridgebane must have agreed because he ushered us down another pathway in the direction of the cruiser docks closest to the Grand Temple. He obviously wasn’t going to address the I-abandoned-my-niece-in-prison issue. I stomped along the garden road, disgusted. If there was one thing besides him turning all cold on Mom and me at the end that I wanted him to explain, it was how the hell he could have not known I’d been condemned to life in prison. Clearly, it only mattered to me. He must have figured I’d escaped, so who cared now?

  “I’m going this way.” Bridgebane stopped by an on/off point to the moving walkway that funneled people into the vegetation-hung Rogo Docks. We were slightly farther away, because money didn’t buy everything. “Sanaa’s with you. If I have something useful, you’ll know in five days.”

  Looking impressively awkward about it, he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. I almost shook him off but then didn’t for some reason. He squeezed.

  “Don’t expect a miracle, Qui—Tess,” he corrected. “Starbase 12 is heavily guarded.”

  I sucked up all my hostility, confusion, and heartache and said, “I’d be grateful for anything.”

  Bridgebane nodded. His whole body abruptly twitched forward, as though he wanted to hug me. I stiffened backward, my eyes widening. He froze, and we stared at each other. He was half my life, six brand-new bags of A1 blood, a chilling threat against Mareeka and Surral, and a bullet in Shade’s leg too late for this kind of affection. Didn’t he know that?

  He dropped his hand and turned to Shade, suddenly asking, “How did you two even meet? It seems unlikely.”

  “You blew holes in her ship. I’m a mechanic.” Shade shrugged. The rest was obvious.

  “Of all the cities on all the planets?” Bridgebane said, incredulous.

  “It was the Black Widow that decided. After you chased me into a black hole,” I added.

  “I tried to keep you out of it,” Bridgebane grated.

  “Yes, by ‘disabling me,’” I said with sarcastic air quotes. “The patched-up hull of my unarmed cargo cruiser thanks you for that.”

  “The Black Widow decided…” Shade echoed thoughtfully.

  I’d just added light-years of fuel to the engine for him believing in a higher power, hadn’t I?

  “And you chose Quintessa over the two million units?” Bridgebane asked. “Over the huge bonus you could have had?”

  As usual, my full name was a jolt to the system. It burned through me like a meteor shower, leaving craters all over the place.

  “Yeah.” Shade cocked his head. “I guess I made a better choice than you did.”

  The curiosity flickering in Bridgebane’s expression died, and his face shut down again like an android in need of a recharge. “You used to be effective, Ganavan. For Quintessa’s sake, let’s hope you still are. And here—” He pulled a small packet from his pocket and tossed it at Shade, who caught it. “That’s a new med wipe about to go public. It reduces swelling and heals cuts and contusions. You’re drawing attention to my niece. Try not to get trounced next time.”

  Shade huffed quietly under his breath, turning the package over in his hand. “Thanks?”

  My brows slashed down. “Can you ever not be a jerk for one second?” I asked my uncle.

  Bridgebane met my fuming gaze head-on, his face still washed of expression. “No. I lost that ability when that heartless despot murdered Caitrin, and I was forced to desert you for your own safety.”

  I stared in shock. I’d never heard him denigrate the Overseer out
loud before. And forced? Had he truly wanted to keep me?

  My chest clenched so hard it mashed my heart to pieces.

  “Yes, I made a choice.” Bridgebane spread his hands between us, palms up, and it was the first time I’d ever seen him look even remotely helpless. “You—or everything.”

  He didn’t mean his power or position; I knew that instinctively. He’d retained those, but I thought I finally understood why better. That dead look in his eyes wasn’t from lack of feeling. It was his default mode now, the countenance of a man used to giving orders and weighing horrible choices against one another, even when innocent lives, his only family, or his own future hung in the balance.

  Had it changed him? Yes. Was he happy? No. Did he deserve my sympathy? My understanding? My forgiveness?

  My eyes stung, and I bit my lip. Maybe.

  Uncle Nate turned and left me—again—stepping onto the fast-moving walkway and leaving his lieutenant and possibly the only person he trusted behind him. With me. Through vision that burned and blurred, I watched him zoom toward the base of the docking tower. He didn’t look back at me. But then again, he never had, had he?

  I clamped my mouth flat against a tremble that built like an earthquake. Shade gripped my hand, and I held on to him. One last flash of dark hair and broad shoulders was all I got before my uncle disappeared, swallowed by the shadowed entrance of the hive-like building.

  A terrible pressure ground down on me. Maybe I wanted that hug after all, now that it was too late, and I might not get another chance.

  Chapter 8

  SHADE

  Our second night in the bungalow wasn’t exactly the evening I’d hoped for. It was anything but, with Lieutenant Mwende tracking us with her dark eyes and pitiless stare while she sharpened her knives on the patio. There wasn’t a door to close in the whole damn place except for the bathroom. Our privacy had been annihilated, and if I’d known we were going to pick up an unexpected and pissed-off guest, I’d have requested a place with a different layout.

  At least the blood exchange with Bridgebane had gone well. That didn’t seem like the right word for it, although it could definitely have gone worse. The Overseer would get enhancers out of the deal, but maybe he wouldn’t be so determined to go after Tess herself or to launch a galaxy-wide hunt for anyone carrying A1 blood. It felt like a stalling tactic on Bridgebane’s part, and the whole thing left Tess in a funk I couldn’t shake her out of. She just kept saying, “Mareeka and Surral are safe now. Starway 8’s fine. We’re fine. He didn’t do anything.”

  Right. Nothing but fuck with Tess’s head and saddle us with an unwanted and spitting-mad bodyguard.

  Sanaa Mwende made everything uncomfortable, mainly because she didn’t want to be stuck with us any more than we wanted to be stuck with her. Tension ran high, but not because we feared betrayal. That didn’t seem to be on Bridgebane’s shady agenda, and Mwende was an extension of Tess’s uncle. We spent the rest of the day in our separate corners, watchful and wary like independent pets abruptly introduced into the same household. I’d seen it with cats. Inevitably, they learned to live together, often becoming friendly.

  Somehow, that thought made this new situation feel like it had the potential to last a lot longer than the five days we already knew we were in for.

  We ate dinner, listened to the chorus of insects without adding anything to their chirping, and went to bed, Tess and me tamely on one side of the bungalow and the lieutenant on the couch under the netting. Our paradise felt a lot like hell all of a sudden. I barely slept, and when I did, it was with one eye open in case my instincts were wrong about Bridgebane and Mwende.

  Things were no different in the morning except that Tess barreled into efficient mode instead of staring off into space anymore. It was time to meet up with the crew again. Tess showered, packed up what little she had, and emptied the complimentary contents of the refrigerator into my cruiser’s built-in cooler like she had two jet engines strapped to her back. She was ready to go just after sunrise, and she didn’t even like getting up early.

  I took one last look around the bungalow, wondering if I’d ever come back to the Aisé Resort, ever watch the muddy river wind through the jungle, see a group of curious ganokos, or hike up to the waterfall where Tess had fumbled through her first swimming lesson. This departure somehow felt more permanent than the last time I’d left here. Maybe that was because I knew my life was going to be different from now on. Then, I hadn’t even imagined the unexpected and heartbreaking changes coming my way. At least this time, I’d chosen a direction rather than being blindsided by tragedy and letting everything spiral from there.

  I shut the door, leaving the key card inside, and used the outdoor console to pay the final balance. Tess and Mwende waited in the cruiser, ready to go, but my feet dragged. Saying goodbye to the resort felt a little like saying goodbye to my parents. Only that was a goodbye I’d never actually gotten. It just happened. One day they were there. The next, gone.

  I took a long, deep breath, let it out slowly, and went to the cruiser. There were alive people counting on us.

  Four more days until possible intel on Shiori.

  Seven days to finalize an operation to try to free the Demeter Terre scientist.

  If luck was on our side, we could retrieve both of them at the same time. If it wasn’t…

  I shook my head. A lot could happen. Plans needed making—the sooner the better, although now it felt like we had to wait for Bridgebane’s possible contribution to know how best to move forward.

  We took off to join up with the Endeavor as the Great Star slanted warm rays of early morning sunshine over the jungle. The wide Gano River cut an unmistakable, winding path across the entire continent, and I watched it until we cleared the different spheres and left the long ribbon of water behind us. Fishing hadn’t happened. I didn’t show Tess half of what I wanted to. The I love you hovering on the tip of my tongue was still there instead of where it should be, between us.

  At least we’d accomplished what we came here to do. That was something.

  With open space ahead of us and the coordinates set for just outside of Demeter Terre, I got ready to jump us to Mooncamp 1. Hopefully, the Endeavor was already there.

  Settling into my seat, I asked, “Everyone strapped in?”

  Beside me, Tess nodded. Mwende confirmed that she was ready from her seat just behind me in the back section of the cruiser.

  “We’re off, then.” I pushed the button to engage the hyperdrive engine.

  Faster-than-light travel gripped us in its narrow tunnel. Pressure sat on my lungs with the weight of a neutron star. I hated this part. I couldn’t breathe. Up was down, down was up, and I just wanted it to be over. My mouth filled with saliva as my insides rose and dropped and tilted. Warp speed affected all but the sturdiest of stomachs, and mine was no exception. Darkness whirled and spun us into a tight, crushing cocoon, but instead of emerging as something else, we suddenly emerged elsewhere.

  My navel crashed into my spine as we slowed, the shift leaving me hollowed out and dizzy. For a second, it felt as though we were traveling backward. I slowly exhaled. Blinked and swallowed. Demeter Terre dwarfed the smaller rock beside her. The huge harvest planet and her biggest moon filled most of our clear panel.

  I let out a low whistle as my insides settled back into their correct positions. “Damn, that’s pretty.” Demeter Terre was vibrant, varied, and a giant of a planet with the unmistakable deep blues of vast bodies of water and the fertile greens of croplands that rolled on forever. Too bad it was contaminated. As for the moon, it looked windswept and covered in tundra. The two were like night and day, but looks could be deceiving. One seemed welcoming, but the toxins in the air would kill you. The other appeared hostile, but apparently, human beings could breathe there.

  “That’s going to be a shock to the system after Reaginine,” I said of the mos
tly tan and red moon with what appeared to be large rocky or frozen areas. “No wonder they’re starving here. Those aren’t exactly growing conditions.”

  “They have greenhouses around the Mooncamps,” Tess said. “And pockets of livestock. But it’s not enough to feed all the refugees.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Moons?” she asked. “Six habitable DT moons—they were terraformed ages ago to house the seasonal workers who came for the harvests—and six principal Mooncamps.”

  “And population?” That’d been my actual question, although I was interested in the rest.

  She shrugged. “Maybe five hundred thousand.”

  I glanced at Demeter Terre again. Five hundred thousand? Of the millions that had once inhabited that planet? The queasiness making my stomach fold in on itself had less to do with the jump now and more to do with general disgust. I was a toddler at the time of the DT massacre, but I knew what happened here. Why had I grown up and lived my life just accepting it? Why did anyone? Tess hadn’t. The fact that I had—for thirty-two fucking years—suddenly seemed unconscionable.

  I stared at that lost world. Images had been banned to dull public outrage, but I could still picture the way it went down that day. The chemical weapons simultaneously detonating over all four continents. People around the planet gasping for breath, going into convulsions, dying. The thousands of cruisers and ships shooting off DT in a panic with zero supplies and their human cargo often succumbing within minutes to the blood agents.

  The poisonous cocktail the Overseer had used was slowly fading from the atmosphere, but it was still toxic enough to prevent repopulation. Still, why six Mooncamps?

  “The refugees could consolidate on the largest moon. Wouldn’t that be easier to manage?” I asked.

  “Farmers were kings down there.” Tess nodded to the big blue and green planet. Anger hardened her expression. “They already knew what happened to all the eggs in one basket. Then, they got to live it.”

  “It’s been a generation since the Overseer attacked. My entire lifetime. Why don’t they leave? Go somewhere more hospitable? Any number of planets could absorb that few people, even if they all wanted to stay together.”