Star Marque Rising

by Shami Stovall

  “Glad you joined the Star Marque?” Endellion asked.

  “Yeah,” I murmured. “Real glad.”

  “And this is only the beginning. In a couple of days, I'll be traveling down to Vectin-14 to meet with Ontwenty and the other ministers.”

  I turned to face her, but my thoughts lingered on my breath. The air, so fresh and wonderful, was distracting. “You're going down to the planet?”

  “That's right.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “Of course.”

  “Really?” I asked. I half-expected her to make it contingent on something. Or maybe I still thought she was fucking with me. “Will the whole crew go?”

  “They'll have the option, if they want. My crew means a great deal to me, and I'd like to show them I haven't forgotten my promise. Besides, I would hate to deny you something you've been waiting for your whole life. Your mother was from Vectin-14, after all.”

  I glanced back at the plants, my chest tight with eager anticipation. I had never felt that kind of excitement outside the arms of another, and I wondered how I would feel once I actually had my feet on the ground.

  Endellion let out a long sigh. “I really do need someone I can trust at my side.”

  “Don't you have Lysander? Quinn? Sawyer?”

  “Lysander is the type to adhere to the rules and can be rather judgmental, to his own detriment.”

  “Heh. You can say that again.”

  “And Quinn is responsible for my starfighters.”

  I nodded. “You're saying she doesn't have time.”

  “Sawyer is the backbone of my operation, and I wouldn't want to distract her.”

  Sawyer worked harder than anyone else I knew. Fueled by her love for Endellion, I supposed, but that meant she was in the same boat as Quinn.

  “But none of them have my drive,” Endellion said.

  I lifted an eyebrow and turned my attention to her. “Your ‘drive,’ huh?”

  “No. They don't understand that sometimes you have to risk everything. I saw you were different when I heard you'd entered the battle royale, forsaking everything you had to leave the station. It's what I admire about you. What I want from you.”

  All mirth was gone. Endellion had the same seriousness about her that I'd seen the first day we met. Cold. Precise.

  “What do you want?” I asked in a gruff tone. I didn't like to fuck around, and it felt like she was holding something back.

  “Some of my methods are unscrupulous,” she said without hesitation or shame. “But I always keep the greater goal in mind.”

  “Unscrupulous? Like how you betrayed those rebellion scumbags?”

  “Yes. Exactly like that.”

  “You do this all the time, I take it.”

  “Only when needed. Maintaining a professional reputation within the Federation is important, especially with ministers like Felseven breathing down my neck. I can't jeopardize that by playing fast and loose with everything. That being said, when I do need something done fast and loose, I want someone who can keep up. Am I making myself clear?”

  It was all starting to come together.

  Sawyer's statements. Endellion's actions on the cargo ship. The way she'd betrayed the rebellion. Even how she'd sent me to find those chem dealers on Dock Seven. The list probably went on and on, even if I wasn't aware of it all. But still, she had done right by her crew. They were taken care of—better than they'd been before—and someday, they would have a prize most people would never know. Living planetside would make for a great retirement.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  I wasn't above unscrupulous. I had done a lot worse, though I had morals I wouldn't compromise. Besides, it wasn't like the superhumans were playing fair—they made all the rules, rewrote them on a whim. They had all the advantages, and all the human military assholes wanted Endellion out of the picture. Evening the odds wasn't such a crime. And Felseven could go fuck himself.

  “I need a doctor,” Endellion said.

  “You said that. So, what? You're going to kidnap one?”

  “Never. They would make for a poor physician if I couldn't trust them with a knife. I need a willing doctor. An excellent doctor. And I need you to be charming on command.”

  “Charming, huh? And here I thought you were going to ask me to kill someone for you.”

  “I try to avoid that when possible.”

  I laughed. Was she serious? She sounded serious. She sounded like a cold unfeeling computer, actually. Her eyes had that intensity that had attracted me to her in the first place, and I took a step closer to marvel at her unnatural green irises.

  “That's it?” I asked. “Do you even understand the meaning of the word unscrupulous? This doesn't sound like a questionable job.”

  Endellion smiled, took my elbow, and led me deeper into the station greenhouse. She said nothing until we reached a garden bed filled with fat ferns, their leaves as thick as human fingers. Then she let me go.

  “I want to see how you can handle yourself with assignments.”

  Always testing me. Always challenging me.

  “Wait here,” she said. “There's someone in the garden I want you to meet. I just have to find her.”

  The click of her enviro-suit boots was all I heard until she disappeared around a bush covered in purple flowers. The label on the garden box read: Cloned Earth Specimen #356-a, Rhododendron. I walked over and examined the flowers, fascinated by how they grew in clumps, four to five tiny flowers all blending together as one.

  Why was everything grown planetside so beautiful?

  When one of the flowers fell, I caught it and held it in the palm of my hand. Out of instinct, I covertly tucked the tiny bit of plant life into a pouch of my enviro-suit. A souvenir. Maybe I could examine it closer, once I returned to the Star Marque.

  “What're you doing here?”

  I straightened my posture and turned around. A cute woman in a white enviro-suit and a lab coat gave me a harsh frown. She was short—maybe 40 centimeters shorter than I was—and I stared down at her with a cocked eyebrow.

  “You should be with the minister,” she said. “Ontwenty left ten minutes ago.”

  “I think you're confusing me with someone else.”

  The woman pursed her lips and glared. “This isn't funny. Go, or I'll report you myself.”

  “I'm an enforcer with the Star Marque, ya kook. Back off.”

  “O-Oh. I'm so sorry. My mistake, it's just… you look so much like the minister's bodyguards. You're so… large.”

  I scratched my chin and offered her a shrug. “All us genetically-modified people look the same, is that what you're saying?”

  She cracked half a smile. “Well, yes. Of course. That's the point.” Then she focused her attention on the thin-leafed milkweed, seemingly ignoring me altogether. She knelt down and examined the base of the plants.

  My thoughts went to a dark place. All the minister's guards couldn't be the same, right? That would be ridiculous. They must have had free will and individual personalities. Even twins had their own desires, for fuck's sake. But I didn't know anything for sure. I would speak to Sawyer about it. She seemed to know everything there was to know about genetically-modified people.

  The woman removed a pair of scissors from her lab coat. She cut a leaf, severing it from the stem, and a milky fluid gushed out of the slice. Then she snipped off another leaf. And another. The white ooze dripped down the plant and into the box of fertilizer.

  “Will the plant be okay?” I asked, half-tempted to stop her from mutilating it further.

  The woman gave me an odd look before cutting another leaf. “Yes, of course.”

  “It doesn't feel anything, right?” The liquid substance reminded me of blood.

  She chuckled. “Plants don't have the same nervous system as humans. Don't worry. The milkweed will regrow any lost leaves. I've done this plenty of times, but your concern is refreshing.” The woman motioned me over with a wave
of her hand. “Did you want to use the sealant on the cuts? It'll stop the latex from seeping out. That's the white fluid.”

  I walked over, took a knee, and glared at the tiny bottle she handed over. It had a nozzle, and the sides were soft. I applied a small amount of force—for me, anyway—and the sealant shot out the nozzle like a fountain.

  “Point it at the plant,” she said through her laughter. “Right here. Where I took the leaves.” Then she grabbed my forearm and guided my hand like I was an infant—or maybe she just wanted to initiate physical contact.

  I smiled and played along, sealing the holes in the plant and allowing her to lead the way. I hadn't had much luck with anyone on the Star Marque, and it was nice to know I hadn't completely lost my appeal. Plus, the woman had a gentleness about her that was inviting. Even her guidance was provided with a soft touch.

  “Clevon.”

  I got tense and stood. The woman stood as well, her brow furrowed. Endellion waited on the path between plants, her arms crossed, but she offered a tight smile.

  “Commodore Voight,” the woman said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Good day.”

  She gathered her leaves and hustled off without even a second glance back. It got me curious, but I didn't ask. Endellion's reputation preceded her.

  “I see you found Dr. Rhodes,” Endellion said. “Perfect. I was going to bring her to you, but it's obvious she wants little to do with me.”

  Dr. Rhodes? Ah. I saw where this was going.

  “You want me to be charming with her, is that it?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I laughed at the thought. That was what Endellion wanted me for? She hadn't needed to make such a big deal out of it—I would have been her stud, free of charge.

  “Tell no one I asked you to do this,” Endellion said. “No one.”

  “It'll be our secret.”

  “Good. Then I'll arrange for you to meet her again.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DOCTOR

  “There are only two ways someone can be appointed to govern a planet,” Sawyer said over the comms. “The first path is by becoming a civil servant, but before you can hold an official position within the Federation government, you need to pass several aptitude, political, and bureaucracy tests. And while the bureaucracy test can be studied for, the political test isn't about knowledge or expertise, but about opinion and culture, meant to keep the Federation values uniform across the Vectin Quadrant.”

  “So, you have to say the right things to pass,” I said as I stretched out inside my capsule. “Like it's a secret little club that keeps out anyone they don't like.”

  “I would say that's accurate. Only superhumans who have interned with other government officials ever seem to pass the political portion of the civil-service exams. That can't be a coincidence.”

  What a bunch of bullshit. I knew stuff like that had to be rigged from the start. People in power never wanted to share power—why would they?—and they would do anything to keep hardworking schlubs from taking a piece of the pie.

  “What's the second way?” I asked.

  “Military officers are allowed to petition for governorship. Normally, you would enroll in an officer academy and rise through the ranks. But—just like the civil-service exams—officer academies are rigorous in their testing, and most applicants never pass. They test you on so much information that you basically have to come from wealth to afford all the study materials and time needed to get in.”

  Goddamn. No one wonder humans never got those positions. They had to be born into it.

  I smiled. “But Endellion found a loophole.”

  “Yes. She discovered several instances of honorary titles awarded to enforcers who showed exemplary dedication to the Federation. Endellion knew the minimum requirement to petition for governorship was holding the title of commodore, so when Admiral Vanine needed specific tasks handled, Endellion volunteered every time, working tirelessly for his benefit.”

  “She did some suspect things.” It wasn't a question. I could see the pattern, and now I knew why Endellion took such risks.

  “She did engage in a few unlawful activities,” Sawyer said in a slow tone. “But it paid off in the end. Admiral Vanine asked her to… do something for him… and she asked for the rank of commodore in return. He accepted, and the rest is history.”

  The darkness of my capsule had the warmth of a black hole. I tossed to the side and wrestled with unwanted thoughts. I should have gone to sleep a few hours ago, but the allure of Vectin-14—as well as the fate of the Star Marque—weighed heavy on my mind.

  “Sawyer,” I intoned. “I want to ask you a couple questions.”

  “Plot twist: that's what you've been doing this entire time.”

  I sat up and huffed out a laugh. “Personal questions. Face-to-face.”

  No response. I waited.

  Nothing.

  “Well?” I asked.

  “Well, what?”

  “Is that all right?”

  Sawyer sighed. “I suppose you can meet me in my workroom.”

  I wanted to ask her to come down to my capsule, but I supposed that worked, too.

  I flipped on the light, glared at my clothing, and opted instead to grab a sheet and wrap it around my waist. I wasn't going to be out long, and my deck was currently on its night cycle. It would be fine.

  I hopped out of my capsule. The dim lighting blanketed the room and halls, and I crept out of the sleeping quarters—though no one could hear me in their capsules, even if I yelled. Once in the lift, I hit the button for Deck One and waited.

  The lift stopped at Deck Two, and the door opened. Yuan glanced up to meet my gaze.

  She cocked an eyebrow as she ambled into the lift, her leg as stiff as ever. Then she smiled and hit my stomach with the back of her hand. “Finally found someone to hook up with, huh?”

  “I wish,” I said with a groan. “I'm heading over to see Sawyer.”

  The lift door closed, and we continued.

  “Sawyer's odd,” Yuan said. “Sticks to herself.” Again, Yuan gave me the once-over. “I'm surprised a guy like you hasn't had any luck. I hear lots of people lamenting their cold bed while drowning in brandy.”

  “Yeah, I should take a break from training.” I gave her a sideways glance. “How'd you and Mara meet, anyway? Fish for her at a bar?”

  “I met her during one of my patrols. I was the enforcer on duty, and someone came screaming about a suicide attempt. I had to rip the laser pistol out of Mara's hand.”

  Fuck. Mara had attempted to kill herself? Fun-loving, happy-go-lucky Mara?

  Yuan must have seen my surprise because she shook her head. “That was a long time ago. Endellion helped her. She got Mara a cybernetic implant that regulates her chemical imbalances. I really owe Endellion, ya know? Mara's all better now.”

  Chemical imbalances, huh? Seemed odd, but I wasn't a doctor.

  “Good to hear everything worked out.”

  The lift doors opened.

  “Get out of here,” Yuan said, “before people see me and you like this.”

  I exited into the well-lit hallway of Deck One. Once the lift door closed, I shuffled toward the Central Communications and IT Logistics room. Sawyer was always there, doing something or another with the code and the core of the ship. Endellion must have had a lot of demands. She really needed to fill those other officer positions so that Sawyer could get some free time.

  “What are you doing?”

  The shock and indignation told me who'd spoken long before I turned around. Lysander had a stick so far up his ass, I swear it had changed his vocal chords.

  I regretted not putting on proper clothes. Anything to save me from having to interact with the man.

  “I'm going to see Sawyer,” I said as I tilted my head to the side to get a better look at him.

  His arms were crossed and his face flushed. I couldn't tell whether he was enraged or embarrassed. Probably a mixture of both.


  “This is the officer's deck,” Lysander said through clenched teeth. “And you're walking around like it's your personal bathroom. Have you no respect for anything?”

  Oh, here we go.

  “The other enforcers take note of you, Demarco! They're going to mimic your attitude and demeanor. You need to set a proper example.”

  “Nobody looks to me for jack shit,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Save that speech for a role model.”

  “You're one of the Star Marque's starfighters. It's because of you and Endellion that we defeated those light cruisers and saved the cargo vessel with such ease. And to add to your limelight, Endellion herself asked you to accompany her on a personal mission. Of course the other enforcers are going to idolize you!” Lysander motioned to me with both arms, his pent-up energy boiling over. “You don't live in a sweaty bag of garbage anymore! You can damn well dress and act with the newfound respect your station deserves.”

  I opened my mouth to retort, but I stopped before I said anything. A piece of me could sense his jealousy—Endellion had taken me on some assignment he knew nothing about—but another piece of me felt the sting of his words. I hadn't considered what the enforcers thought of me. Or how my actions could or couldn't reflect on Endellion. And she had been trying so fucking hard, in every sense of the word.

  “You're right,” I said with an exhale.

  “I know I'm right,” Lysander snapped.

  Clearly, the words hadn't sunk in.

  He took a moment to smooth his crewcut hair. Then he said, “I know you haven't had any official training, and I know this isn't a proper military vessel, but even a sliver of common sense should have told you this was unacceptable.”

  “I already said you were right. What else do you want? Thirty lashes?”

  “I want you to get your shit together.”

  “All right. I'll get it together.”

  Lysander glared. “Don't play games with me. Just because you—”