“Please, do take a seat,” Dex said to Andi, sweeping his arm out in a grand gesture. “I am nothing if not a good host.”
Disgust flashed in her eyes. She did not sit. Instead, she stood with her back up against the wall, her gray eyes roving left and right.
Dex had taught her well.
“Suit yourself,” he said, walking to the opposite side of the conference table, where he plopped down into a chair.
The tension in the room was a living beast. Dex could practically feel it breathing down his neck. So he leaned back in his chair, propped his boots up on the glass table next to the Box and focused all his attention on Andi.
She glared at him, cold as the metal wall she leaned against. “What the hell do you want?”
Oh, this was good. Better than good. It was the best damned thing Dex had experienced in years.
For four years, Andi had been on the run from the fate that awaited her on Arcardius. High-ranking, war-hardened soldiers had been sent to track her down. Other criminals, capable of slinking through the shadows, had tried to find her. Even the general himself, and his personal Spectre guards, had gone out looking a time or two. But after every effort, every Krev spent to discover the fugitive, Dex had been the one to catch her.
Fate was a beautiful thing.
“Just a moment now,” he said, relishing this time, the feel of Andi’s eyes boring into his. “We have another guest joining us before we start.”
Dex waited for her onslaught of questions and was surprised when none came.
She simply stood there, hands balled into fists at her sides, stabbing at him with her cold, unfeeling stare.
“Relax, Andi,” Dex drawled. “You used to love spending time alone with me.”
He knew they were anything but alone, with four guards stationed around the room and two just outside the shattered door, but it felt as if they were. Just like that fateful day on the fire moon.
“You don’t know anything about what I used to love,” Andi said.
She narrowed her eyes, and he waited for her to serenade him with the list of colorful words she loved using—some that Dex had taught her himself—when the Box suddenly chimed. A funnel of light shone out of its side onto the blank wall at the front of the room.
This pulled their attention away from each other and toward the man whose face appeared across from them on the wall.
Andi went rigid.
For the first time today, despite everything Dex had thrown at her, she actually looked stricken. Shocked. Pained.
“Hello, Androma,” the man on the screen said. “I’ve been searching for you for a very, very long time.”
Dex smiled. This was worth more than all the Krevs in the galaxy.
Chapter Seven
* * *
ANDROMA
“GENERAL CORTAS,” ANDI GASPED.
She practically fell into a chair, her legs going weak beneath her.
The general’s face had haunted Andi for the past four years, sworn to destroy her in every dream—sometimes in her waking moments, too.
She was at a loss for words.
The last time she’d laid eyes on General Cyprian Cortas, she’d been a desperate girl in chains, seated alone at the trial where she was convicted for the death of his daughter.
Kalee.
All the tallies on her swords combined couldn’t cover up the pain of that first death.
Guilt brewed in her gut, and Andi was sucked back into her memories, back to that fateful night on Arcardius.
Wind in her hair, the kiss of freedom coating her skin as she sprinted through the hallways, Kalee beside her.
Laughter bubbling between them as they snuck onto the general’s personal transport ship.
The click of Kalee’s harness, buckled tight in the copilot’s seat, and Andi’s nervous laughter again as she looked at her charge, the girl she was sworn to protect.
“Are you sure about this?” Andi asked, her fingers curled over the throttle.
Kalee lifted a pale brow, a smile tugging at her lips. “As my best friend and personal Spectre, I command you to do this, Androma.”
The engine purred as Andi started it up. A feeling of excitement coursed through her at the sound.
Kalee smiled. “For once in your life, have some real fun.”
“I have to admit, you’ve looked better,” General Cortas said, yanking Andi back into the present, leaving her breathless beneath the man’s stare. The burn scars on her wrists ached beneath her cuffs.
Stars above.
All these years, she’d tried to suppress the memories, only to have them brought back with a sudden cruelty as sharp as a whip. The man in front of her was a victim of her foolishness. Beside her was the man who’d rejected her love.
The two of them, together? It was nearly enough to shatter Andi.
She forced her eyes up at the screen, grateful her crew wasn’t here to share this moment. She could feel them now, trying to reach her, but she denied them access each time a request pinged in to her com.
Some things a captain had to face alone.
The general had aged since she last saw him. His once-brown hair was now peppered with gray, and wrinkles creased his sun-worn skin. His body looked tired, though his brilliant blue eyes sparkled with the very same scrutiny he’d always had.
“You’re the one behind all of this?” Andi asked, forgetting the formal deference she’d been trained to show this man since birth.
“I’m a very powerful man, Androma.”
The general of Arcardius was seated at a silver desk. Behind him, a large window showed a spectacular view. The sight pained her, and yet she couldn’t look away.
Arcardius.
Waterfalls flowed over a floating gravarock into streams far below. A vast landscape of color stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with glimmering glass structures that made up the capital city of Veronus. This was the planet she was no longer able to call home. Even from here, she could see the domed glass building in the center—the Academy, where she and thousands of other military students had trained. It was also the place where she’d learned to dance. Where she’d been introduced to the throttle of a ship after she’d chosen piloting as her military training path. It was there, at the Academy, that her greatest dreams were born. She’d been handpicked to become a personal Spectre for the general’s daughter, a status most Arcardians only dreamed of achieving.
She’d spent every second by Kalee’s side afterward.
Until the crash.
Until her very public death sentence, with millions of hateful eyes watching, deeming her a traitor.
“What do you want from me?” Andi asked now.
For a while, the general said nothing. He worked his stubbled jaw back and forth, as if chewing on a thought he wasn’t sure he should share. His chest was peppered with glowing silver and gold beacons, heavy with the weight of the accomplishments and medals he’d acquired during his long reign as the military leader of Arcardius.
I’d like to kill you, the way you killed my daughter, Andi imagined him saying.
I’d like to give you the traitor’s death sentence you truly deserve.
A million possibilities, all of them grim.
And all of them well deserved, filling Andi’s gut with another layer of guilt. Another bit of heaviness to carry with her to the grave.
But when the general spoke, his words weren’t of punishment or death.
“You’ve been quite busy since we last met.” He snapped his fingers, and a cyborg woman shuffled forward from the corner of the room. Her head was bald and smooth, bits of metal interspersed with artificial flesh, similar to Andi’s cheekbones. The cyborg held a holoscreen out to the general, which flickered to life in his hands.
“‘Blood Stains the Skies above Pa
zus,’” General Cortas read from the screen. He tilted it ever so slightly, and Andi could make out the telltale red-and-gold title of a news feed. She sunk low in her chair, remembering that story. It had gone viral across Mirabel.
The general sighed before continuing. “Two black market ships were shot down in the sky sixteen months ago, which ended many lives when the debris fell onto a Pazian village. Black market arms dealers paid you a large sum to haul their weapons for them, and when things got a little complicated...you attacked your enemies’ ships without thinking twice about what destruction it would cause.”
She took complete responsibility for those deaths. She’d never thought the debris would get through the atmosphere in such large pieces, let alone hit one of the few settlements on Pazus.
“You were never caught,” General Cortas said, his voice low, “but I knew it was you. That’s what you do, Androma. You leave a path of chaos in your wake, and you don’t ever look back to see whose lives were ended because of it.” His blue eyes flashed at her.
Worlds away, and Andi still withered beneath that icy stare. But she refused to take his bait, to breathe out a word that this man could twist and turn on her in an instant.
The general tapped the screen again, and another headline materialized, this one with a photograph of the Marauder in all of its varillium-sided glory. “The Bloody Baroness,” General Cortas said, setting down the screen, “is mentioned in thirteen cases since last year, six of those involving numerous deaths. And I have no doubt, Androma, that there are many more cases that went unnoticed. You are one of the most notorious criminals in all of Mirabel.” He sighed and shifted in his seat. “Which is why I hired Dextro to find you.”
“Then get on with it,” Andi said. The words poured out of her, unable to stay locked inside any longer. “Give me the injection, like you really wanted to do all those years ago.” It was her mistake that led to Kalee’s painful death, and it was only by a twist of fate that Andi escaped joining her charge.
Andi looked back at the general. “If you wish to kill me, go ahead. But let my crew go free. I’ll take the blame for our crimes in Mirabel. All of them. If this is about...” She couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Her scars ached again at thoughts of the past. “If this is about your daughter...it was an accident, General. A mistake.”
“I’m not here to speak of the past,” the general snapped. His voice was pained, and he took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m a powerful man, Androma, but a desperate one.”
“Desperate for what?” Andi asked. “To finally see me die?”
General Cortas leaned back, wincing as if in some hidden pain, and folded his hands on top of the silver desk. “I’m not here for revenge,” he said.
Andi blinked in surprise. “Then...what is it you want?”
The general sighed. “I’d like to offer you a job.”
Andi almost fell out of her chair. “I’m sorry—what?” She didn’t know what else to say, or even what to think, so she waited for him to continue.
“It is desperation, Androma, that brings me to this. And believe me,” the general said, glancing at Dex, who had been sitting silently with his feet still propped up on the table, “I have exhausted every other option.”
Dex winked, and Andi couldn’t fathom why General Cortas wanted Dex to be his personal bounty hunter on this job. Probably just to spite her. He was the general of the strongest military planet in Mirabel. Surely he had other operatives.
The general continued. “My son, Valen, went missing two years ago.”
“I remember,” Andi said with a curt nod. How could she forget?
Valen, Kalee’s older brother, with his dark hair and soft hazel eyes. He had always been kind, but he’d never spoken more than a few fleeting words to Andi each time she visited Kalee’s floating estate on Arcardius.
Except for that night.
He’d seen them sneaking out and tried to stop them, only for Kalee to put him in his place as they slipped out the door of the sprawling Cortas estate. That was the last time Andi ever saw him—he hadn’t shown up to court when she was on trial for Kalee’s death.
Two years later, Valen Cortas disappeared in the night, all traces of him whisked away. Though there was no sign of a struggle, General Cortas swore it was a kidnapping, carried out by a skilled group trained to leave no trace behind.
The news had spread like wildfire across Arcardius, and then into the skies to the leaders of every other inhabited planet, moon and satellite city in Mirabel.
“We suspected a mercenary from Xen Ptera took him,” General Cortas said, “but there haven’t been any ransom demands. No responses to our inquiries. I would’ve stormed their planet when he was first taken, but we couldn’t risk upsetting the peace treaty between our part of the galaxy and theirs. Ten years still remain until the treaty ends.”
He paused. Grief made his voice heavy. Two years after losing one child, the other had been snatched from him, too.
Again, the guilt clawed at Andi from inside.
“So what do you want me to do?” she asked carefully. “If I remember correctly, there was never much of a trail to begin with, and surely all traces of him are long gone by now.”
The general leaned forward in his chair.
“Two months ago, one of our satellites picked up a signal from Xen Ptera’s prison moon, Lunamere. The message was in Arcardian military code, which you no doubt remember from your time serving.”
Andi inclined her head. “I remember.” So many nights, she had stayed awake inside her quarters in Averia while Kalee was asleep. Glowing screens laid scattered across her desk alongside military manuals and scribbled notes and failed attempts at decoding the strange ancient symbols. She’d always excelled at weapons training, but hadn’t taken as much care in honing her mind. But a Spectre was expected to learn all things, and learn them well.
“I was teaching the code to Valen before the kidnapping.” General Cortas ran a hand through his graying hair. “There has been no word since, but we feel strongly it is Valen. The message was a specific word I gave him to decode just before he was taken.”
Andi listened intently. After all this time, most believed Valen Cortas to be dead. There were rumors that he’d run of his own accord and was hiding out on some distant tropical moon, far from his father’s clutches and the strict military life of Arcardius. Others suspected he’d been too wounded by his sister’s death and simply hid away in the darkness of the estate. The kidnapping, Andi had always suspected, was the real truth.
“Why are you telling me all of this?” she asked.
“Because I want you to recover him.”
It was an effort not to let her jaw drop.
“I don’t...” Andi fumbled for the right words. “I can’t...”
“You can’t?” The general barked out a laugh. “The Bloody Baroness does whatever she wants. Even stealing a starship in the middle of the night, crashing it into the side of a mountain and slaughtering an innocent girl in the process. One she was sworn to protect.”
Andi sucked in a breath.
Her chest felt split in two.
“She was to be my heir,” General Cortas whispered. “And you stole her from me. From my wife. From my people.”
My people. They were once Andi’s people, too. Her throat was dry as a husk, her heart hammering against it.
But killing Kalee, even by accident, had been an act of treason. There was nothing to say, nothing she could do to take back what she’d done.
So she focused on the present.
“Why me?” Andi asked. “There are a million Patrolmen or soldiers you could offer the job to.”
“Not without starting a war,” the general said.
It made sense. The Mirabel Patrolmen couldn’t just waltz into a Xen Pterran prison and steal a prisoner out from under the gu
ards without violating the terms of the treaty. The agreement was meant to prevent further war between Xen Ptera and the galaxy’s other major systems, Prime, Stuna, Tavina and Phelexos. Galactic peace had always required a careful balancing act between each system, and when the Olen System rebelled, it had upset that balance.
The Unified Systems couldn’t risk an upset again.
But a pirate, not officially affiliated with any side...
The general tapped his fingers against the desk, drawing Andi’s attention back to the screen. “There is, of course, another option.”
Andi raised her eyebrows, and General Cortas smiled.
“I could send you and your entire crew to the Pits of Tenebris to serve out a life sentence for the crimes you’ve committed. Murder, robbery, forgery, arson.” He ticked off each word on the tips of his fingers. “Dare I go on? I can bury you all, so dark and so deep that you will never see the sun again.”
Andi sucked in a breath. The Pits of Tenebris were where the hardest of criminals were imprisoned, those even worse than Andi. Men and women who took sick pleasure in torturing and killing innocents.
“Or,” the general said, “your slate could be wiped clean. If, and only if, you bring my son back to me. Alive.”
“Clean?” Andi asked. “You mean...”
General Cortas met her eyes. “I will pardon you for your crimes. Lift your death sentence. You could return to Arcardius, Androma.”
Home, Andi’s mind whispered.
A thousand memories suddenly unlocked, poured into her from the place she’d kept them safely hidden away.
Her mother, twirling in a circle as a silver gown blossomed around her. Her freshly painted nails shining under the chandelier light as she pressed a soft hand to Andi’s cheek and whispered, “My daughter, protecting the general’s heir. A true Arcardian dream.”
Zenith Page 5
