Starfall: A Starflight Novel

by Melissa Landers

  Jordan raised both brows.

  “You said it was important,” she prompted.

  “Oh.” He seemed to catch on, straightening in his chair and swallowing hard. “Yes. It’s about Kane Arric.”

  “What about him?”

  “It’s not hearsay anymore. I have evidence that he’s assisting the rebels.” Jordan arched against the seatback to pull up his pants. “He activated his old credit account on the day he returned to Eturia. The balance wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy a large amount of ammonium nitrate. It’s used for building bombs.”

  “And for fertilizing soil,” she pointed out. “His mother lives on a farm. He probably bought it for her.”

  “Maybe. But remember when the rebels tried to raid our fuel station?”

  “What about it?”

  “They used nitrate bombs as a diversion. That’s when we started tracking ammonium nitrate purchases. Kane’s was the largest and most recent. That can’t be a coincidence.” Jordan lifted a hand as if anticipating her next words. “Before you defend him, let me finish. Yesterday my men found a rebel in our ranks. A soldier in the second battalion. He admitted during questioning that he asked Kane to gather information from you and report back with anything useful.”

  “Then he’s lying, because Kane would never do that. Who’s your source?”

  “Norton Shalvis. His nickname is Badger.”

  The name put a hitch in her pulse. Kane had received at least two transmissions from Badger, and those were just the ones she knew about. But the calls had made sense. Badger was looking after Kane’s mom. “All right, they’ve spoken to each other, but that doesn’t prove anything.”

  “There’s more,” Jordan said. “The royal armory was looted. All the rifles we collected from the volunteers are gone.”

  She swore under her breath. More weapons in rebel hands—it was her worst nightmare. “I thought you moved the armory to the old grain silo.”

  “I did. I drove the weapons there and unloaded them myself. And I didn’t tell a soul about it, not even my next-in-command. You and I were the only ones who knew.” He raised a brow at her. “Did you mention anything about it to Kane?”

  “No,” she said. But as soon as the word left her lips, she recalled that Kane had been waiting right outside the door when she and Jordan had discussed moving the armory. He could’ve easily overheard the conversation and told someone the new location.

  A chill rolled down her spine.

  “Be careful what you share with him.” Jordan pointed toward the cargo hold, where a distant groan of pain rang out. “I buried three good men today and I’ll go home with nine injured, all because somebody talked to Fleece. I doubt Kane is the mafia’s mole. He wants a cure as much as we do. But you might tell him something else, something related to the fight back home, and that might end up costing more lives.”

  Cassia nodded as a heavy weight shrouded her heart. She didn’t want to lose any more men, and yet she hated herself for questioning her best friend. She busied her hands by reassembling the med-kit, but it didn’t offer any distraction from her thoughts.

  “Don’t worry. I know who I can trust.”

  The Hypersonic Deluxe lived up to its reputation.

  Kane reached speeds fast enough to strip him bald and peel the brown off his skin. The dashboard gauge indicated he could increase velocity by another twenty percent, but he stuck to his pace. Any faster and he might travel through time.

  Besides, he was almost there.

  He’d been listening to the exchange between Renny and Doran, whose com-link had come online about an hour ago. Someone must’ve placed a tracker on the Banshee’s shuttle, because no matter where Doran hid, the Origin followed. That alone didn’t pose a threat, but the half-ton pulse cannon mounted to its hull did. One direct shot at the shuttle and Fleece would succeed in dispatching another pirate lord.

  Kane didn’t have much of a plan, but he figured he’d start by piloting alongside Doran to see if he could find and dislodge the tracking beacon. Using his com-link, he locked on to the Banshee’s ever-moving position and followed it until he spotted the ship barrel-rolling to escape a blast of cannon fire.

  “I see Renny, but not the shuttle,” Kane said through the link. “Where are you hiding, Doran? Let’s see if I can shake your tracker loose.”

  Solara’s voice came through the link. “We’re under an abandoned hangar at thirty-nine degrees north, eighty-four degrees west.”

  Kane set the coordinates and veered left. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed the Origin mirroring his flight pattern. It was like Fleece had overheard the conversation. “Never mind the beacon. I think Fleece is hacking our transmissions.”

  “That would explain a lot,” Renny said. “Everyone go offline and change course. Let’s see if that helps.”

  It didn’t help.

  The Origin continued its relentless pursuit of the shuttle, no matter how well Doran concealed it. Soon it became clear there was no hiding from the ship. Or running from it—not with that much thruster power.

  “We need a new plan,” Doran said. “I’m almost out of fuel.”

  Kane swore through the com-link. “What we need is a weapon.”

  “I’m fresh out of laser cannons,” Renny told them, “but I’ve got a pistol for each hand. Maybe it’s time to take this fight to the ground.”

  Kane thought back to the bomb the Origin had dropped out of its waste chute. Whether in the air or on the soil, they didn’t stand a chance against the ship’s firepower. He patted his chest to make sure the jet pack straps were still fastened. “Renny, let me try something first.”

  “Like what?”

  Kane didn’t want to say it aloud, in case Fleece was listening. “How many hits can the Banshee take?”

  “Depends on where they land.”

  “Maneuver behind Doran and block as much pulse fire as you can. On my mark, we’ll all shift due west.” When nobody objected, he shouted, “Now!”

  Three vessels simultaneously shifted to the west: the Banshee, its shuttle, and the Origin. All except for Kane, who veered east on a collision course with the largest ship. Maybe he didn’t have a pulse cannon, but he had a missile in the form of a brand-new Hypersonic Deluxe.

  “What’re you doing?” Renny demanded. “Turn around!”

  Kane fisted the wheel and watched the Origin grow larger as he approached it with blinding speed. He stayed above the line of fire until he was near enough to make out the mammoth bolts along the ship’s hull, then he darted toward the cannon mounted at its underbelly.

  “Stand down,” Renny yelled. “Kane, that’s an order!”

  Kane wasn’t listening. He was too busy mirroring the Origin’s final swerve as Fleece tried to avoid the collision. Kane aimed his shuttle directly at the pulse cannon at the exact moment its barrel swiveled toward him, glowing red and preparing to blast.

  Locking the engine at full power, he punched the Eject button and closed his eyes as he flung backward into the air. Whiplash wrenched his neck, but he didn’t hesitate to turn on his jet pack. Its thrusters roared, and he rocketed away from the ship as his shuttle struck the cannon with a deafening blast.

  Heat nipped at the back of his neck. He glanced over one shoulder to find the belly of the ship engulfed in flames. There was only one way to extinguish a fire that large, and clearly Fleece knew it, because he pointed the Origin’s nose at the sky and took off like a shot. With full thrusters, it headed toward the atmosphere, where the lack of oxygen would choke the flames. Kane hadn’t destroyed the ship, but he’d definitely put it out of commission for a while.

  Once the crew had assembled on the ground, Renny smacked Kane upside the head and then pulled him into a hug. “You just earned two weeks’ bathroom detail. Don’t scare me like that again.”

  “Yes, Cap’n.”

  Doran glanced at a fragment of the shuttle’s wing that had fallen in the grass. He let out a low whistle. “Was that a Hyperso
nic Deluxe?”

  Kane saluted the wreckage. “May she rest in peace.”

  “More like pieces,” Doran quipped. “How many shuttles have you wrecked now?”

  “Two. Both times saving your pretty carcass.”

  “My pretty carcass thanks you.”

  “Me too.” Solara strode around her boyfriend to give Kane a peck on the cheek. “By the way, we have a lot to tell you. You’re not going to believe what we found out at the settlement.”

  After the events of today, Kane would believe just about anything. But before they went any further, they had to figure out who was feeding information to Fleece. He noticed that Arabelle hadn’t joined them. “Where’s Arabelle?”

  Renny glanced toward the Banshee. “She’s lying down with a headache. I think coming close to Fleece really shook her up.”

  Right, Kane thought. Or maybe she’s the one who tipped him off.

  The look Doran delivered said he agreed.

  “Now for the hard part,” Renny said, eyes smiling behind his glasses. “Telling General Jordan you ruined one of his toys.”

  By the next morning, the scent of scorched earth had faded enough for Cassia to detect more pleasant notes in the air, like lemongrass and pine, but nothing could erase the ringing in her ears from the blast. She faced the rising sun and tried to focus instead on its warmth. She would miss this when the Banshee departed and her only source of heat came from a UV bulb designed to prevent transport madness.

  “Ready to go?” Kane asked from the Banshee’s boarding ramp. He peered at her above the crate he carried, the last of the local cargo Renny had contracted to deliver. “After I strap this down, it’s time for liftoff.”

  For the hundredth time, she searched his mannerisms for a hint of guilt or a trace of duplicity, anything to confirm that Jordan’s accusations might be true. But he moved with the same easy gait as always.

  “What?” he asked when he caught her staring.

  “Nothing.” She thumbed at the Eturian cruiser. “Give me a minute to say good-bye.”

  “Make it quick.”

  Turning her back to the sun, she faced the pasture where the crew had met last night to discuss what Doran and Solara had found at the settlement. The infected settlers had suffered identical symptoms to those on Eturia, and like Kane’s mother, many of them had worsened and then abruptly bounced back. But in a strange twist, all of them had vanished on the same night—fifty men and women gone with no sign of a struggle. It was as though they’d teleported from their beds into an alternate dimension.

  The group had decided the Banshee would continue to New Atlantia to investigate another outbreak while Jordan and his soldiers returned to Eturia to delve deeper into Marius’s partnership with the mafia…or at least that was what Cassia had claimed. In truth, Jordan was returning home to plan a rebel sting. She’d chosen not to share that information with Kane for reasons she refused to examine too closely.

  “There you are,” Jordan called to her from the top of the boarding ramp. He descended the ramp and met her at the base. “I was about to come find you.”

  “How’s the, uh…” She pointed at his lower abdomen, trying not to think about the tense moment that had passed between them when she’d bandaged it.

  He lifted his shirt hem. All that remained of the gash was a thin pink scar. “Good as new. You’re a queen of many talents.”

  “Hey, wrap it up,” Kane hollered from the Banshee’s open cargo hold. He flashed both palms when Cassia glared at him. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Renny said it’s time to lift off.” He gave Jordan a fake salute. “General, I can’t tell you how sad I am to see you go. Sorry about your Hypersonic Deluxe. No hard feelings, right?”

  Jordan groaned and muttered something under his breath.

  “Sorry,” Cassia whispered. “I know he can be grating, but—”

  “But deep down he’s a great guy?”

  “Well, usually, yes.”

  Jordan backed up the ramp. He didn’t say anything more, but he used his gaze to send a silent message that she should remember his warning.

  She nodded in a silent reply.

  As if she could forget.

  Several hours later, she left her quarters to make a pot of coffee. She found it odd that she didn’t pass anyone in the hallway, but she didn’t think much about it until she reached the galley and glanced up at the wall’s clock display. There were several throughout the ship, each showing the time, date, and current coordinates. According to this one, the ship was traveling away from New Atlantia instead of toward it.

  She climbed the stairs to the pilothouse, expecting to find Renny, but she stopped short when she discovered the whole crew inside, even Arabelle, who seemed to have warmed up to the captain, judging by her position atop his knee. Kane occupied the copilot’s chair, and Doran and Solara sat on the floor with their backs against the wall.

  “Are you having a meeting without me?”

  The dashboard lights told her Renny had already set the autopilot, but he pretended to set it again. “No, just talking.”

  “About?”

  “Taking a small detour.”

  “That’s why I came up here,” she said. “We’re going the wrong way.”

  “I need to make a quick stop.” Renny slid his eyes toward her. “On Vega.”

  Vega?

  Fear tightened her airway. She could almost hear the rustle of soybean leaves and the crack of breaking stems. She had never intended to go back there. She didn’t know if she could stand to see that settlement again. Just thinking about the saltbox shops and the dusty streets made it hard to breathe.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “There was a problem with our last delivery payment.”

  “And you have to deal with it now?”

  Kane stood up from the copilot’s chair and stepped over an obstacle course of legs and feet until he reached her at the doorway. He took her elbow and guided her away from the group into the bridge. “You can stay on the ship,” he said in her ear. “You don’t even have to look out the window if you don’t want to. The whole thing won’t take more than an hour.”

  She released a quiet breath.

  “Renny wants me with him at the warehouse, but I’ll stay here if you need me.” His thumb brushed the sensitive bend of her arm. “Just say the word.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she told him. As long as she didn’t have to leave the ship, she could pretend she was anywhere.

  “Arabelle’s staying on board, too.” Kane dropped his voice to a whisper. “She offered to scan the ship for trackers and bugs. Maybe you should help her. It’s a big job for one person, know what I mean?”

  She understood the subtext, but she didn’t share his suspicion. Whatever means Fleece had used to spy on them, she doubted Arabelle was involved. Arabelle had no motive to help Fleece, and besides, she’d never asked the crew to bring her aboard. They’d literally snatched her and run. But to placate Kane, she told him, “Sure, I’ll go charge the scanner.”

  Kane watched Cassia descend the stairs before he rejoined the crew and shut the pilothouse door. “She’s gone.”

  “Okay,” Renny continued in a low voice. “Like I said, I’ve been doing some digging into what happened the day Cassia was taken. The Daeva shouldn’t have known we were coming, because I used an alias for the delivery. Cassia was right when she told Kane it was a setup.”

  “Someone tipped off the Daeva,” Solara said. “For a finder’s fee.”

  “Exactly, so I followed the money.” Renny tapped the pilot seat’s armrest. “Turns out one of the warehouse workers had a sudden windfall that week, and for an interesting amount of credits—exactly ten percent of Cassia’s bounty. By all accounts the idiot couldn’t find his ass with both hands, but he claims he won the money in an off-world survival contest.”

  “Who is he?” Kane asked.

  “Jess Ranger. The hovercraft pilot.”

  Kane remembered that guy. He was tall and y
oung, and not terrible-looking for a fringe yokel. Cassia had thrown a few glances his way, and the guy had flirted right back. He’d seemed a little too friendly, but Kane had dismissed his suspicion as jealousy.

  “Looks like he used the money to buy a farm about a mile outside town,” Renny said. “From what I hear, he has a cash crop ready to harvest.”

  Kane expelled a bitter laugh. “Not for long.”

  “You said it,” Doran agreed. “We’ll burn it to the ground.”

  “Wait.” Solara seemed conflicted as she picked her cuticles and peered from one person to the next. “Are you sure he’s the one?” she asked Renny. “There’s no doubt in your mind?”

  “Not one iota.”

  “Then I want in, too. But I don’t think we should kill him.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Kane said. “Jess Ranger isn’t getting off that easy.”

  If someone had stashed any surveillance bugs on the Banshee, Cassia couldn’t find them. Since they’d landed on Vega, she’d been over every inch of the ship with a voltage scanner, and that was after shutting down the electrical systems and disconnecting the ship’s battery supply to eliminate all current. Anything using the slightest trace of power should’ve shown up like a flashing billboard.

  She blew a lock of hair out of her eyes and tossed her scanner onto the galley table.

  How was Fleece doing it?

  “No luck here,” Arabelle said, approaching from the lower-level staircase. She strode into the galley and opened one hand to reveal a ball of auburn fur. “All I found was this delinquent trying to get inside a crate of dried apples.”

  Acorn spread her winged arms and glided to the table, where she scurried across its surface until she reached the hem of Cassia’s T-shirt. Seconds later, the troublemaker found her favorite pocket and nuzzled her way inside it.

  Arabelle tucked a scarlet curl behind one ear and opened the cooler to retrieve the iced tea she’d left to steep overnight. “Want some?”

  “Sure.” Cassia strode to the cabinet and stood on tiptoe to reach the cups. She wished Kane wouldn’t put them up so high. When she noticed Arabelle watching, she laughed. “Short-people problems.”