“I don't play dice.”
“It's hypothetical, jackass. Just listen.”
Lysander pursed his lips and waited.
“What if you were playing dice, but I cheated to help your opponent? You lose all your credits, but I give you some of mine and tell you to bet big on the next roll. Then you do, and win it huge, because I secretly knew what the outcome would be the whole time. How would you feel about that?”
The look on his face reminded me of an irritated parent. Lysander took in a deep breath before saying, “Is this really what you wanted to discuss?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Have you been drinking? Are you on chems?”
“I have been drinking—a lot, actually—but I don't take chems. Look. That's not the point. I came to you because… I feel like you're the type of guy who wouldn't question how he felt about the situation.”
Lysander rotated his shoulder and rubbed the portion where Dr. Clay had administered the shot. “Why wouldn't you just tell me you were helping me at dice?”
“I don't know. Pretend you can't talk to me about it. How do you feel about the situation after the fact?”
“I'd distrust you,” Lysander said. “And I would be upset. You can't always know the future, and assuming you're doing me a favor because you suspect I'll fail isn't an excuse. Virtue comes from conducting yourself properly. All officers in the HSN Corps are taught that very lesson.”
“So, you'd be rolling in credits but still upset with me?”
Lysander forced an exhale. “Did you hear a word I said? I'd rather we both play by the rules than have someone cheat for the jackpot. If you told me you'd cheated, I'd return the credits.”
“Really? You're on death's door—you got fucked over by fate itself when you were born a defect—and you'd be worried about the rules? Fuck the rules, Sander. You don't owe anyone anything.”
“Sander?” he repeated, sardonic.
“Life cheated you first,” I said, ignoring him. “What's the harm in cheating it back?”
For a long moment, he said nothing. I wondered if I had insulted him, but Lysander took a deep breath and allowed his gaze to shift to the wall in pensive refection. “Being an officer—a leader of any sort—is the oldest of the honorable professions,” he said, distant. “That's what my father said. And that's what his father told him. Discipline, etiquette, honor. They have their own rewards, different than credits and gin.”
I didn't say anything. This was what I had come for. I wanted his advice.
“You have no idea how others will watch you. If you curse, so will they. If you cheat, they will, too. Not everyone. But if you influence even one other person…” Lysander threw a hand up in the air and huffed. “It's about the whole. It's about caring for something greater than yourself. An ideal. I don't know if you'll understand, but my father did. I want to as well.”
I should've known. He was so focused on the rules and honor, he almost didn't care about the outcome. He might have been the exact opposite of Endellion in every way. Why had I even come to see him? I could have guessed Lysander's answers.
But I wanted to hear them.
At least Lysander wasn't questioning himself. Maybe I should have quit the introspection and dropped the issue. If I wanted to be like Endellion, I had to adopt her way of thinking, not Lysander's. After all, Endellion would walk away from the dice table with credits and an ally, and Lysander would walk away broke and with an enemy.
Despite my conflicted thoughts, results were all that mattered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RETURN TO CAPITAL STATION
100 days until we reached Capital Station.
I exited the lift on Deck One with Noah in tow. Free time came at odd moments, so I had to make the best of it. Between training with Lysander and learning everything Endellion wanted me to know—including weight training, starfighter training, and tactics discussions with Endellion herself—time flew.
“You sure this will be okay?” Noah asked. “Sawyer doesn't usually have company.”
“I want her to see what she's missing out on.”
Noah ran a hand through his short hair. “So, you brought me?”
“You're nonconfrontational and articulate. Those were the only requirements.”
“That's it? I hit bare minimum?”
“Basically.”
Noah crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “And with that ringing endorsement…”
Although Deck One housed the officers of the Star Marque, the lack of people gave the corridors enough gloom for a horror vid. Noah and I walked in silence, the boots of our enviro-suits clicking against the steel grate floors, echoing around us. I stopped only once I reached Sawyer's workroom.
“Hey, Sawyer,” I said as I opened the door. “I've brought company!”
She sat hunched over her keyboard, a video playing of the corridor outside her room right in the center of her main screen. She'd known we were coming. I ignored her silence and sauntered in. Blub—almost as good as new—floated over, reminding me of a child rushing to greet their favorite relative.
The fish moved in the air with lopsided balance. Toot, toot. He didn't move as fast, and when he dropped, it was in chunks, like he was stepping down an invisible staircase, instead of gliding.
“Hey, buddy,” I said as I stroked the little guy. “How's my favorite fish?”
Noah walked in and widened his eyes. “Wow. Did you steal that from Vectin-14?”
I glared. “Of course not. This is Blub. He's been on the rig this entire time.”
“He has?”
How could Noah not have known about Blub? Did Sawyer keep herself shut in that much? The situation was worse than I thought. I should've brought her company long before.
“Hello, Noah,” Sawyer intoned.
Noah replied with a nervous chuckle and then said, “Hello.”
Sawyer acted as every starfighter's navigator. I knew they knew each other, yet the tension in the room remained thick and awkward. I left Blub and walked to Sawyer's side. She didn't type or do anything on her computer terminal, but she did give me an odd glance.
“Why did you bring a friend?” Sawyer asked.
“You still haven't gone with me to the mess hall.” I leaned against her countertop and offered her a smile. “I figured, since you aren't fond of crowds, I'd have to ease you into it.”
“How considerate of you.”
“Don't worry. I'm always gentle on a girl's first time.”
Sawyer turned to face me, a slight pink to her face. “Sometimes I wonder where you get the confidence to say such things.”
Noah laughed. Sawyer and I glanced over at him. “I wonder that same thing,” Noah said as he attempted to pet Blub. The fish avoided Noah's touch and floated back over to me. Noah crossed his arms again, but his face lit up when he asked, “Hey, can I get advice from you, Sawyer?”
“Me?” she said. “What about?”
“Women.”
Sawyer turned away, grabbed her keyboard, and went straight to typing. Her computer screen filled with… something. Code for a program, I knew that, but I wasn't sure what she was working on. It seemed isolated, like she'd removed a chunk of something bigger and decided to fiddle.
“Do you mind?” Noah asked as he walked over to join us.
“You can ask,” Sawyer said, disinterested.
“All right, so, we're stuck on the Star Marque until we reach Capital Station. What would impress a girl here on the ship? If you were seeing someone, where would you want them to take you?”
Sawyer continued typing at a furious rate. “The Star Marque is a vanguard-class starship. It's not made with luxuries in mind.”
“I know. That's why I need advice.”
“Very well. Take her to a dark closet. I've seen enough of Demarco's entertainment vids to know that's where all the action starts.”
I bit my tongue to hold back both my laughter and my embarrassment. I'd almost forgo
tten she'd watched those with me.
“Aren't you with Endellion now?” Noah asked. “Do you even need that anymore?”
“Sometimes our schedules don't line up,” I said with a shrug. “But that's beside the point. Don't take a lady to a dark closet. None of them want that.”
“The ones in the entertainment vids seem excited,” Sawyer said with a hint of mischief.
“Oh, they're excited—for credits. Trust me, girls in real life aren't into plumbers, either, but if you trusted those entertainment vids, you'd think women get hot and bothered watching a guy clean out pipes.”
Sawyer snorted back a laugh. “Well, Demarco, you're the expert. You tell Noah where to take a girl.”
“I want to be respectful,” Noah said before I got a chance to answer. “And proper. So, no joke answers, okay?”
“Well, if I were trying to impress a girl while stuck on this rig, I'd probably spend most of my free time with her,” I said with a shrug. Blub circled my head. Toot, toot. I rubbed his little fins and continued with, “I'd try to get her to laugh, too. You want people to enjoy your company—don't give them reasons to avoid you. Make each interaction memorable, that's the key. And if she has friends or family, make sure they like you. They're the ones she's going to talk to when she wants to discuss you, and you'd better make sure they have nothing but good things to say.”
Noah focused his gaze on me and offered a slow nod. “That makes sense.”
“I'd make sure she knew I was thinking about her by calling or sending a message,” I said, thinking back to tactics that had worked in the past. “Maybe bring my friends over to meet her, just to make sure everything went smooth.”
Sawyer stuttered in her typing, her fingers slowing for only a fraction of a second before she resumed her impeccable standard. She didn't comment or say anything, however.
“Sawyer,” Noah said. “Do you think that would work? I mean, would you appreciate a guy who did all that?”
Sawyer gritted her teeth. “No.”
“R-Really?”
“I'm not interested. In anybody. Ever. So, this is a moot discussion. You would be better off asking the bulkhead for advice.”
“Oh.”
“Who is this for?” I asked.
“Mara,” Noah admitted.
Sawyer snorted. “She isn't into men. Even the bulkhead could have told you that.”
“W-Well, I spoke to her about that. She said she would consider men, if she enjoyed their company.”
“Hm.”
Noah stepped around the machinery of the room, leaping over bits and pieces, until he reached the opposite end. Sawyer didn't glance over or engage. I waited, curious about her thoughts, but I doubted she would tell me, even if I asked.
“Sawyer,” Noah said, staring at the junk on the floor. “I thought you did coding and stuff. Why all the machines? Aren't those two separate skills?”
“Yes,” she said. “But we don't have a proper mechanical engineer, so I took over the duties.”
“Is it true that you're as a smart as a superhuman?”
“Why?” she asked, curt.
Noah turned to me, like he wanted me to help him out.
“I think you're smart,” I said, interjecting myself into the conversation.
Sawyer nodded. “I am. But I don't like being compared to superhumans.”
Before I could say anything else, Noah chortled. “I understand. Lysander and I are from Ares Military Base, near Vectin-10. A lot of superhumans there are complete assholes. Most are government workers or high-ranking officers, so they've got egos the size of the Vectin Star.”
Sawyer caught her breath and stopped typing. “You were… born at the Ares Military Base?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I was—I mean, I come from Vectin-10. I traveled to the Ares Military Base on a few occasions. That's where I met Endellion.”
Noah's eyebrows shot up. “Really? That's where Lysander and I met her, too. Funny, right? Sometimes it's a small universe.”
They both shared a chuckle. Then Sawyer turned her swivel seat around and stared at Noah, like she saw him for the first time. “Lysander never mentioned that before,” she said.
“He says you never talk to him,” Noah replied. “And he said I should leave you alone, because you hate interruptions, but Demarco insisted. Sorry if I'm bothering you.”
“No,” Sawyer muttered. “Don't worry about it. I'm glad you came.” She swiveled her seat back around and resumed typing.
I gave Noah a quick nod, pleased everything had worked out so well. I couldn't believe Sawyer had kept herself sequestered from the crew for so long.
* * *
59 days.
I lifted weights, falling back into a routine while my PAD read me information about starships. Endellion wanted me to learn as much as possible, and it seemed like the best use of my time.
“Plasma engines contain ionized gas through use of magnetic and electric fields,” the PAD said, robotic and feminine. I could have chosen something masculine, but I'd opted for the slightly softer interface.
Noah and Mara exercised on the machines next to mine. Both glanced over at my weight machine, their eyebrows lifted.
My weight limit had been restricted to 220 kilograms before. Not because I couldn't, but because none of the officers would change the damn restrictions on the machines. Now that I was vice-captain, I'd set my personal cap to 270 kilograms, much to everyone's shock and amazement. I was sure I could have handled more, but I didn't want to strain myself too bad before reaching Capital Station.
We had a superhuman to kill, after all.
“Smaller starships—corvette-class and below—can enter the atmosphere of garden-zone planets with a G-force of 3.5 or lower for a limited period of time,” the PAD continued.
My thoughts drifted occasionally, but I was able to absorb the information well enough. Sawyer had created quizzes for me. Where did she get the time? Still, I appreciated it. She seemed to know everything in the damn information packets, anyway.
“So, Mara,” Noah said between casual sit-ups. “I was thinking about visiting my brother after training. Did you want to accompany me?”
She nodded, but otherwise said nothing.
“Great. Whenever we're alone, he asks me about my visits to the infirmary, so you'll save me from that.”
Mara barely lifted her weights, her gaze glued to the floor. “I'm glad to help.”
“Hey, if you have anyone you want to distance yourself from by having company, I'm more than happy to return the favor.” Noah punctuated his offer with an awkward laugh.
I ignored the teachings on my PAD to chuckle at Noah's failed attempts at humor. The kid didn't have the talent to become a comedian, but I suspected his willingness to try was all that was required.
Mara smiled, even though the “joke” was far from stellar. She had been better since she'd started taking the recommended amount of medication. Dr. Clay and Noah had kept her focused. She'd chosen the treatment, the company, and the activities. That was all that mattered.
Mara stopped lifting and turned to me. “Demarco.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“—starships of the cruiser-class and higher must—”
I tapped my PAD and stopped the information. Noah also stopped his workout and listened, though he didn't say anything. I rotated my shoulders, feeling the burn from my forearm to my lower back.
“Yuan worked with Endellion for years,” Mara said with no preface whatsoever.
I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and steadied my breathing.
Mara continued, “Yuan did all sorts of dirty work for Endellion. And she was there when Endellion helped Admiral Vanine. Back when Endellion got her title as commodore.”
“What about it?”
“Endellion asked Yuan to run false messages to the rebellion and act as a spy. Yuan even killed a few rebellion officers to make trouble. Admiral Vanine wanted conflict within the rebellion ranks.
That's why Endellion had Yuan do all the things she did.”
Yuan had killed for Endellion? My thoughts wandering to dark places.
Noah didn't react to the statements. He must have known.
“What else?” I asked.
“You heard about the Orbit Cruiser?”
The name rang a bell. It didn't take me long to recall. The Orbit Cruiser had been the old starship Mara, Lee, Yuan, and Advik served on. Their captain had gotten drunk at Midway Station and killed a couple of people. Afterward, his ship had been seized to pay for damages, leaving Mara and the others stranded and without a job.
“Endellion paid Yuan to slip something into our captain's food,” Mara intoned. “Captain Dominic had a bad habit of getting wasted, but he never went wild like that before.”
Endellion had planned everything? Of course. She'd wanted Captain Dominic's starfighters.
Before I could ask any other questions, Mara exhaled. “I… I'm glad you helped me, Demarco. I was with Yuan for so long, I thought I would always be like that. You know. Not myself. She… wanted to be with me, but…”
Noah held out a hand. “You don't have to talk about it again, if it'll upset you.”
“No. It's fine. I want Demarco to know.”
“O-Okay.”
Mara ran her hand through her short hair. “I was with this girl, but… she died. That's when I got depressed. Really bad. Yuan wanted to ‘make it better,’ that's what she said, but I… well, I didn't want to. I just wanted to end it. I cut myself, and when she tried to stop me, I cut her, too. Yuan never walked right again after the incident. She didn't get medical attention in time. And after that, I never thought right again. Like living a dream. A forever-happy dream.”
“Are you okay now?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “I'm fine. Noah has been with me. But I wanted to talk to you specifically. I wanted you to know that I appreciated you giving me the option. Yuan never did. Endellion never did. They didn't care. They knew what was best, and they decided for me.”
“Don't mention it.”
“Demarco,” Sawyer said over my PAD, jerking me from my thoughts. “Can I speak with you?”
Star Marque Rising Page 36
