“You're with her often enough. Until Mara is back to normal, I'm not going to pilot that damn starfighter of hers.”
The animosity washed from her in waves, but all I could focus on was Mara. She didn't look right. Her eyebrows were knit, and she tossed and turned, even while unconscious. Yuan shushed her and whispered sweet nothings. It didn't seem to work. Mara continued to move around in her sleep.
“What're you still doing here?” Dr. Clay asked. He motioned to the door. “She needs rest, and you're in the way.”
I gave Mara one last glance before heading for the door. A part of me felt responsible for her wellbeing, but another part wanted to forget it entirely. People got hurt all the time. We were in an industry of death and violence, after all. We wouldn't all make it.
But Endellion would become governor soon, and it would be like we had crossed the finish line. If we could just hang on until then, everything would be okay. At least, that was what I wanted to believe.
Just a little bit longer.
* * *
“These are the star maps,” Endellion said, pointing to the screens and scrolling through vast amounts of information.
Everything had to be in three dimensions or else it wasn't accurate. Not only that, but celestial movement had to be taken into account, along with possible variations for asteroid impacts or planet collision. Learning the shorthand for each number sequence was tiring, but Endellion insisted I needed to know how to read the goddamn maps, so I committed the information to memory.
“Doesn't Sawyer know all this?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“Then why do I need to know?”
Endellion turned to me, a perfect eyebrow lifted. “The station of vice-captain requires this knowledge set.”
“Is that right?” I asked with a laugh. “Are you charting out my career path for me?”
“I thought my intentions for you were obvious.”
“You're serious?” I glanced around the central database for the Star Marque. Empty computer terminals sat idle. Endellion really did need to fill her crew. “I can think of a few others who would be more suited to vice-captain long before me.”
I didn't like the stillness that followed my statement. Endellion took a moment before facing me. “Must you always question your place at my side? How many times do I have to spell out my reasoning? I'd expect this from someone with half your intelligence.”
Always blunt. Didn't matter. I could handle the criticism, though I wished she would explain the steps of her madness more than not at all.
“I'll happily become your vice-captain,” I said. “I just figured you'd want me to be straight with you. I know nothing about the captain's duties.”
Endellion returned her attention to the star map. She scrolled through the Vectin Quadrant, highlighting space stations and refueling outposts. “The duties of the captain are all-encompassing. Sure, I delegate responsibilities to my officers but to evaluate their work, I have to have a basic understanding of what they do.”
“So, you've got to know everyone's job.”
“I also have to crunch the numbers. Every job we take has to pay for everyone's salary, along with the ship's upkeep, any supplies we may need, any repairs that must be done, and any equipment that needs to be replaced. Financial responsibility is perhaps one of the most important elements of being a captain. Again, an officer can handle this, but I make the ultimate decision of what jobs we take.”
“Gotta be good with numbers. All right.”
“Knowing the laws also helps, especially since the Star Marque is hired to supplement station enforcers.”
“Uh-huh. Laws. Check.”
Endellion circled our destination on the star map. “Politics. Enforcer ships only get contracts from station overseers and others of comparable or higher authority. If an overseer doesn't like you on a personal level, they can deny every one of your requests for employment. Knowing who you can serve, and how you can forge beneficial relationships, is another important factor of being captain.”
“All right. Knowing how to play politics. Got it.”
“Have a long-term goal,” Endellion intoned as she turned to face me. “Nothing matters in life unless you have an end game. Your existence doesn't matter unless it can stand above others.”
I crossed my arms and cocked an eyebrow. “Know everyone's job. Keep the books. Understand the laws. Play politics. World domination. Anything I missed?”
She laughed. “Yes, well, now you're starting to understand. And we haven't even gotten into the importance of strategy or combat maneuvers, especially with rogues like those in the rebellion.”
“So, let's back up,” I said as I waved my hand in circles, “to laws and politics. How does assassination play into that equation?”
It was almost time. We would reach Outpost Station in less than two days. Endellion had yet to tell me her plans, and now seemed like a good time to discuss it, especially since the outcome could be dire beyond belief.
“Sawyer told you?” Endellion asked, unfazed.
“That's right. But she didn't talk about much.”
“Make sure no one knows about this outside us three. Ever. Under any circumstance. Even talking about it is conspiracy of the second degree. We'll be charged and fined, and possibly even sent to Ucova.”
“No one is going to hear us here,” I said, motioning to the ghost town we called the Central Data Room. I doubted anyone outside of Sawyer even knew where we were.
“You're wrong,” Endellion intoned. “Or, you would have been wrong, had I not handled the situation ahead of time. You see, the Federation operating system for all starships includes a recording subroutine that listens for keywords of insubordination. Words like ‘murder,’ or ‘assassination,’ or ‘overthrow.’ Then it records those conversations and sends them to the authorities without us being the wiser.”
I scratched at my neck. Fucking creepy. Not only did those codes give the dreadnaughts power over our enforcer ships, but they also monitored each crew, like they were criminals waiting to happen. Then again, we were discussing the death of an emissary.
“Sawyer fixed it so that won't happen, right?” I asked.
Endellion nodded. “Of course. Sawyer has always been the wildcard in my corner. She's an invaluable resource.”
Yeah, that was how I liked to talk about people, too. Like resources. I wondered sometimes whether Endellion even realized she was doing it. Sawyer had to be listening in on the conversation, but I figured she didn't have any objections because she didn't say anything.
Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't even realize Endellion had stopped talking until a few quiet seconds ticked by. She rubbed at her neck, her eyes scrunched, and I knew her pain had returned.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “The sparring match, I mean.”
“You held back.”
“Yeah, because something's not right with your implants.”
“I wanted to see how the cybernetics would hold up.”
“No, you wanted to beat me in front of your crew so that they'd understand you're still the superior combatant.”
I knew Endellion enough to understand appearances were paramount in her world. It was archaic, but enforcers—and thugs, really—still valued personal might, even if that wasn't as useful in a universe with devastating technology. I still did, and there was no doubt in my mind the crew thought even higher of Endellion for besting me in less than 30 seconds.
She smiled, almost cold. “Yes, well, that was a reason, as well. But knowing how much force the absorbers in my system can handle is also beneficial. You see, Emissary Barten will be staying on Outpost Station for a few more days, but his quarters are behind anti-violence perimeters, meaning the use of lasers and plasma guns will be impossible.”
“We're going to kill him with our bare hands?” I asked. Well, that was a different picture than what I'd had imagined.
“Yes. But the two of us should be able to handle on
e superhuman.”
She was probably right. I knew then why it had to be us. We were the only ones who were capable of it. But if we were caught… I didn't even want to think about it.
“You know what else we should do?” I asked. “We should have that sparring match again. In private. That way we can prepare for the emissary and determine which of us is really better.”
Endellion didn't respond. Instead, she stepped away from the star maps and stood in front of me, her look challenging, even without a single word uttered.
I smiled. “I'd love to play just as dirty as you. And without Lysander around, I'm sure it could turn into an exhilarating time.”
“Is that really what you want, Clevon? Or do you want the company of an intimate partner instead?”
Her question caught me off-guard. I didn't have a response before she slid her hand up my neck and along my jaw. The woman had an excellent command of nonverbal communication.
“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice low. “Or is this you fucking with me?”
Endellion pressed herself against me, her mouth against mine, her lips hot and soft. When I felt her tongue, I was ready to take things further, but I held back, still in a state of semi-disbelief. She tasted like sweet sweat, the raw kind you only get from sex.
After I recovered a bit, I ran my hands along her body, thankful for her casual clothing. Even though she was a cyborg—even though there was metal and machines embedded into her flesh—she was smooth and curved in all the right places. And she didn't stop me from exploring every millimeter of her. If anything, she gripped me tighter and sucked on my lower lip, obviously enjoying whatever she tasted.
She stopped and broke our kiss, but not our embrace, her ragged breath on my chin and neck.
“So, how's this going to go?” I asked, my voice husky and laced with excitement. “You want it right here, standing up? Your quarters? My capsule? I'll fuck you in the lift, if that's your fantasy.”
Her laughing only added to my enjoyment. Endellion ran her lips along my jaw and licked my ear. “So crude, yet so accommodating.”
I sucked on her neck, rapt by the way she shuddered. “Gotta make the girl happy,” I breathed into her skin. “Rule Number One for getting laid.”
“And the second rule?” she asked in my ear, but her hand traveled to the top of my cargo pants. She unfastened my belt before I could remember what we were talking about.
“Don't argue with her,” I said with a chuckle. “There are only two ways to argue with a woman, and neither work, so there's no point in doing it.”
“And the third?”
I couldn't remember. I could barely recall my name. Instead, I grabbed at the buttons on her pants and ripped them open, ready to christen that forgotten room several times over. I hadn't been with anyone other than my hand in over a year. A fucking year. And now that it was so close to ending, I didn't want to think about anything else.
“You're quickly losing your options for how this plays out,” I said as I slid her shirt up over her taut stomach.
“We could've studied star maps on the bridge, Clevon. The Central Data Room wasn't an arbitrary location.”
Of course it wasn't.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BY DESIGN
Endellion's quarters weren't as luxurious as I'd thought they would be.
The room had the space of 20 capsules, sure, but besides the bed, everything was a flat surface made of plastic or metal. The ceiling hung low—not too low, I could still stand—but after having experienced the planetside accommodations, I didn't think the interior of a starship would ever impress me again.
A few more hours, and we would reach our destination. We hadn't used our time wisely—not when we had rebellion fighters to kill and an assassination to complete—but I wasn't about to complain, either. After we returned to Vectin-14, I would be made vice-captain. Endellion used what little extra time we had to instruct me on all the tasks a vice-captain had to undertake. In between rolling through the sheets, of course. Best part of the job, really.
Funny how much life brightened after I got laid. The Star Marque could have imploded in a dark corner of space, and I might have been satisfied with how my life had played out at that point.
I was sure I would feel different in a few hours, but still.
Endellion walked out of her personal shower room wearing nothing but a towel on her head. Her smooth skin, fresh with the scent of soap, didn't have a single blemish. I knew. I'd looked. Her obsession with perfection had lots of benefits, and not just in appearance.
I had been with lots of people, but not many had kept up with my stamina. She liked to be on top—which didn't surprise me—but I was fine with it considering the vise grip of pleasure from her well-toned body. And when she stared down at me with greener-than-possible eyes, nobody else even compared.
Endellion threw off the towel, freed her long hair, and took a moment to comb everything straight.
“You ready for round three?” I asked as I stretched out on her bed. I wore as much as she did. We could have made it a quick session.
She glanced over, and then returned to her brushing. “You don't look ready.”
“You know it won't take me long.”
“As appealing as that offer sounds, we'll be needed soon,” Endellion said. “You and I will fight the rebellion light cruisers, and once the battle is over, we'll be taking the starfighters to Outpost Station.”
“Without the Star Marque?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow. “Can the starfighters even make it that far on the fuel they'll have?”
“We're taking one less bolt for the hyperweapons to accommodate a larger fuel capacity. Emissary Barten is on Outpost Station currently. If we're to kill him, I don't want any chance that it'll be linked back to the Star Marque.”
“Won't the station have a record of us docking?”
“They'll have a record of rebellion starfighters docking,” she said as she braided her own hair into a tight coil. “But not Star Marque starfighters.”
Ah. I understood now. Our starfighters were somehow going to register as rebellion instead of as the Star Marque's. Another advantage Sawyer had brought to the table.
As if my thoughts summoned her, Sawyer spoke over the intercom. “Endellion, enemy light cruisers have appeared on the scanner. They're further away from Outpost Station than I'd originally anticipated.”
“Have they detected us?” Endellion asked.
“It seems so. They've altered course.”
“Damn.”
Endellion finished her braid, and then jogged over to grab her casual outfit from the drawers mounted to the bulkhead. It didn't take her long to slip into it, but I enjoyed every second. Then she turned to me, her expression as calm as ever. “Suit up.”
I slid off Endellion's bed and grabbed my discarded clothing off the floor. I didn't know why, because Sawyer and I had never been a thing, but guilt ate at the edge of my thoughts. It was something about Sawyer's tone. She hadn't sounded happy, that was for sure.
And we hadn't spoken in the last few days.
I pulled my pants on, slipped into my shirt, and secured everything in place. Before I could say anything, the lights dimmed, and a red hue shined along the bulkheads, indicating the Star Marque had engaged combat systems. Endellion motioned to the door, and we left, running down the corridors and heading straight for the lift.
When we arrived, Yuan was waiting for us. She turned on her heel, glaring. “Endellion,” she said. “We need to talk.”
“Not now,” Endellion replied as she motioned for Yuan to step aside. “You should be in your starfighter.”
“I won't do it.”
And then silence. Endellion said nothing, and Yuan gritted her teeth. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I did know that Mara was still out of commission. Seemed bizarre, considering we had a doctor and the tools, but I hadn't been in the right mind to ask Endellion the circumstances of Mara's condition.
“Y
ou promised me she'd be back to normal,” Yuan said. “It's been four days! You're delaying this. Fix her.”
“She'll be back to her usual, happy self, once this fight is over.”
“Did you intentionally make Dr. Clay alter her implant? Is that it?”
“He altered it because of his own medical standards. I will simply have it returned to its prior settings, once we're done.”
Yuan stepped forward, centimeters from Endellion, her whole body tense. “I won't fight. I refuse. Not until you fix Mara.”
“You will fight, or Mara will remain as she is.”
I barely had any understanding of what was going on between them, but I was already furious. Mara wasn't a thing, but the way they talked about her, no one would have known. I remained quiet, my focus on the red lights. We were supposed to be engaging the enemy, goddammit.
“You can't do that,” Yuan said, strained. “You have to fix her.”
Endellion grabbed her by the upper arm and shoved her against the lift door. “You know I can do whatever I want. The doctor won't alter anything without my command, not when it's against standard protocol. So, you can threaten to expose me and lose the Mara you want forever, or you can collect yourself and get into a starfighter.”
Yuan didn't reply. Endellion pushed her aside and stepped into the lift. I followed after, giving Yuan a quick glance, but she didn't return it. She reeked of anger.
The lift door closed.
“Explain,” I demanded. “What's happening to Mara?”
“She's suicidal,” Endellion said, not a hint of emotion about her.
The lift sped to our desired deck. We didn't have much time.
“Is she? I'm starting to think this is all bullshit. What else is happening?”
“Mara has an implant that regulates hormone levels. Years ago, Yuan wanted to help Mara cope with the depression—and have Mara for herself—but normal levels of medication still left Mara dissatisfied with life. She hurt herself and others around her.”
“So?”
“So Mara came to me, and I got a doctor to increase the level of hormone dumps, preventing Mara from ever feeling anything negative, to put it in simple terms. No anger. No depression. No anxiety. But such a procedure is technically illegal. I agreed to keep quiet and help maintain the implant, so long as Yuan continued to help me. She knows most of my past dealings—one wrong testimony and I could lose my title as commodore.”
Star Marque Rising Page 28
