Aurora Blazing

by Jessie Mihalik

  I’d never before been so tempted to punch a man in the balls as I was right now. I uncurled my fist, one finger at a time, and tucked the rage away, until I was outwardly as still and calm as a windless lake.

  The floor picked up a subtle vibration as the main engine started. I stepped around Ian without a word and continued to the flight deck. The door slid open to reveal Aoife in the captain’s chair and Alexander in the navigator’s station. I took the tactical station and clipped in, leaving Ian to sit along the wall.

  Fortuitous was a lightly armed and armored ship, designed to be able to defend against most pirates, but it was not a war machine by any stretch. We wouldn’t scratch a battle cruiser before they blew us out of existence.

  The ship had already requested and received a jump point from the gate, so once we cleared the atmosphere, we could immediately jump to CCD Six. In half an hour, give or take, we’d be on the ground in one of the deadliest cities in the universe.

  Fortuitous landed with a gentle bump, and Aoife immediately engaged the ground defense system. On the outside camera, the ship’s shield turned red and a red projection on the ground warned of the danger. At night, the whole area would glow red. It was subtler during the daylight, but still visible.

  If someone ignored the warning and ventured into range of the ship, an audible alert would sound. Fail to clear the area and the ship would open fire. Using the system in a regular spaceport was a dick move; using the system in Matavara was basic common sense.

  Any crew members who wanted to leave would have to carry a beacon to identity them as friendlies. So of course they were targeted as soon as they were out of the ship’s range.

  I caught movement in my peripheral vision as Ian stood. “Aoife, you have the ship and Lady von Hasenberg. Alex, you’re with me.”

  Ian left the flight deck without a glance at me. Of all the high-handed, arrogant . . . I clamped my lips together when I realized I was grumbling under my breath.

  I stood and Aoife shadowed me. She was on bodyguard duty. “Fortuitous, where is Ian Bishop?”

  “Request denied. You are not authorized,” the ship replied.

  Well, I’d have to fix that, but first, I needed to find Ian. I turned to Aoife. “Do you know where they went?”

  She shrugged.

  Of course she did. I headed for the cargo bay, silent shadow in tow. If Ian wasn’t there already, he would be before he left. It would also give me time to look through the supplies that Ada had sent for me.

  When I got to the cargo bay, Ian and Alexander were donning powered combat armor with the brisk efficiency that came only after doing it a thousand times before. I crossed to stand beside Ian. “Care to let me know what your plan is?”

  He put on his helmet but at least had the consideration to leave the face guard open so I could see his hard expression. “Alex and I are going to secure an invitation to the party tonight. You and Aoife are going to stay here.”

  “So you’re just going to leave the womenfolk behind while the big, strong men go off into danger?” I asked sweetly.

  Ian’s fingers twitched as if he’d like to throttle me. Good, then the feeling was mutual. “No,” he said, “I’m leaving the most important asset behind with the best fighter after myself. I’m trying to protect you.”

  “I don’t need your protection.”

  “The hell you don’t!” he exploded. He gestured to the barely visible bruise on my cheek, hidden under my makeup. “I couldn’t protect you from that, but I’ll damn sure protect you from setting foot in Matavara any more than absolutely necessary. We don’t need your expertise for this and the trip will go faster with the two of us than if we took you along.”

  By his tone, I knew Ian wasn’t trying to be intentionally cruel, not like Gregory’s snide little comments had been, but the verbal dagger slid home anyway, laced with poisonous truth. I sucked in a quiet breath and closed my eyes for a heartbeat.

  Gregory had taken so much from me that now I was considered a liability rather than an asset. Even after his death, the bastard still haunted me. Would I never be free of him?

  I retreated from the hurt and pulled on my public persona, the icy shell as protective as the combat armor Ian wore. This time I vowed I’d make it stick.

  “If you do not return before the start of the party,” I said coolly, “I will assume you have fallen. I will go to the party without you and without an invitation. Good hunting, Director Bishop.”

  A range of emotions flashed across his face before settling on suspicion. “You’re going to stay here? Voluntarily?”

  “Yes. Until the start of the party. Then I am going to leave, even if I have to go through Aoife to do it.” I shot the woman an apologetic look, but she just tilted her head with a smile, the first I’d seen from her. “I suggest you move quickly.”

  Ian nodded and closed the face guard of his helmet. In the gray-and-black combat armor he looked massive. He had a blast rifle in hand, another strapped to his back, and two pistols in thigh holsters.

  Alexander was outfitted with the same gear and impossibly huge. He moved lightly, though, the combat armor aiding rather than hindering. He and Ian visually checked each other to ensure the armor had sealed without gaps.

  I mentally caught the signal from their internal com. I moved to the crate of supplies brought from Aurora while I shamelessly eavesdropped.

  Ready? Ian asked.

  Alexander agreed, then said, You should apologize to the woman.

  Ian froze for a second. Why?

  She’s hard to read when she goes all icy, but I think you hurt her. How would you feel if someone told you that you were a liability?

  I paused at Alexander’s uncanny insight. I would be wise not to underestimate him just because he was big and quiet.

  I never said that, Ian protested. Focus on the mission, not Lady Bianca. He turned on his external speaker. “Aoife, you’re on the door. Lock it as soon as we’re clear. If we’re not back in three hours, take the ship into orbit and await instructions.”

  He’d just given me a deadline for overriding control of the ship.

  As if he’d heard my thoughts, he turned his helmeted head in my direction. “Stay on the ship.”

  He did not apologize.

  “Until you return or the party starts,” I agreed.

  The cargo door lifted and the two men jumped out, deciding not to lower the ramp. They landed with a muffled thud, but they were off and running a split second after they hit the ground.

  The spaceport was littered with debris. Ian and Alexander hit the edge of our shield and a person popped up from behind one of the piles, leading with a blaster. The bolt deflected off Alexander’s armor. Ian shot the shooter before he could fire again.

  Now that they were clear of the ship’s shield, individual shields shimmered around them. The shields were effective against energy weapons but wouldn’t stop projectile weapons. The physical armor protected against both, even after the shield’s energy was drained. The cargo door slid closed and Aoife holstered her blast pistol.

  “Are you really better than Alexander?” I asked.

  “Light-years better,” she agreed easily. “Alex is smart, strong, and inexhaustible. If you need someone to haul fifty kilos over mountainous terrain all day, Alex is your man. But I’m lighter and faster. As long as he doesn’t get close, I’ll dance circles around him. And I’m also a better shot, so he wouldn’t get close.”

  “Are you two together?”

  She laughed, a deep belly laugh that rang pleasantly through the cargo hold. “Alex is my brother,” she said.

  I stared at her as I tried—and failed—to see the resemblance. She caught the look and clarified, “Adopted.”

  Heat climbed my cheeks. “I apologize,” I said. “That was rude.”

  She waved off my concern, then her gaze turned shrewd. “Are you and Ian . . . ?” She moved her hands together.

  “No.”

  “But you’d like to be.
” She stated it as fact and I wondered at how broken my mask must be that a stranger could see through me in under an hour.

  “I did, once, but he made his feelings—his lack of feelings—very clear.”

  She made a little disbelieving sound under her breath but didn’t say anything else.

  I turned back to the cargo crates. Ada had not been joking when she said she’d packed a little bit of everything. The combat armor took up a third of the crate. The other two-thirds were packed with weapons, clothes, and technology. On top of everything was the wrapped package of coffee and chocolate.

  I opened the chocolate and broke off a piece. Synth chocolate never tasted right to me, no matter which recipe I tried. But real chocolate . . . real chocolate was a little piece of heaven. The square melted on my tongue like a delicious, sugary blanket.

  After a moment’s hesitation, caused entirely by selfish greed, I held the bar out to Aoife. “Care for a piece of chocolate?”

  “Real chocolate?”

  I nodded and she took the bar from me as if it were made of gold. It might as well have been, based on the price. She broke off a square before handing it back. She nibbled a tiny bite.

  “This is only the second time I’ve had real chocolate,” she said with a delighted sigh. “It’s better than sex.”

  I hummed my agreement. It was better than bad sex, definitely. Good sex . . . well, I hadn’t had any of that in a long, long time, so chocolate had the edge, if only thanks to recent history. My mind flashed to Ian. I bet he’d beat chocolate. Too bad I’d never know.

  I carefully wrapped up the chocolate and put it back in the crate. I couldn’t be trusted with it in my quarters, not if I wanted it to last more than a day. I left everything else, too. I had enough clothes already, and if I needed to be armed or armored, I could grab whatever I needed on the way out.

  For now, rather than sitting on my hands, I was going to do some digital digging. Being on-planet would give me greater access to the local systems.

  “I’ll be in my quarters if you need me,” I told Aoife.

  She moved to the cargo bay control panel and brought up the outside video. “I’m going to keep an eye on the perimeter,” she said.

  “Call me if you need backup. I’ve been trained with most weapons. I’m rusty, but I can shoot.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, but not unkindly.

  I silently agreed. If I was the only thing standing between raiders and Fortuitous, then we truly would be in deep trouble.

  Chapter 14

  In my quarters, I turned on the control panel built into the wall. I was locked into basic functionality—local and Universal time, a map of the ship, current location. I pulled up a hidden diagnostic screen and entered the default von Hasenberg override codes. I tried a dozen options, spanning twice as many years. They all failed. Ian had changed the codes on this ship, too.

  I could crack the code, given enough time, but unless I got incredibly lucky, it would be too slow to be useful right now. I’d helped harden our shipboard system against attack. I had not left myself any remote back doors because that’s how other people compromised your system.

  But that’s not to say I hadn’t left myself any back doors.

  I pried the control panel out of the wall far enough to access the wiring panel behind it. I rearranged a couple of cables, tapped a seemingly nonsense pattern on the screen, changed another cable, entered another nonsense code, and then put everything back the way it had been.

  A new screen appeared on the control panel, just a blank box with a numeric input. I used the authenticator in my com to generate a twenty-five-digit code that included a hash of a secret shared key and the ship name. I entered the code on the panel. I was in.

  I set myself up as an administrative captain. Ian wouldn’t be able to remove me from the system using his own status, and my status would not show up in a simple query. While I might not need the ability to direct the ship, I believed in being prepared. I also changed the override codes. Even with them, Ian couldn’t remove me from the system, but there was no sense in leaving them the same, either. I didn’t want to make it too easy for him.

  One problem down, now on to the next. I put on my smart glasses and set up a lightly secured connection to check my House accounts. Benedict had announced his impending departure on our sibling channel and the channel was rife with impotent rage. Ada was only half joking about plotting a coup.

  Veronica had sent me an encrypted message while I’d been dress shopping. She’d found one of her contacts in Matavara who might be able to secure an invitation to tonight’s party. I laughed when I saw the details. It was the same woman Nadia had charged me twenty thousand credits to reveal.

  Veronica had forwarded my information as well as a letter of introduction to the woman, though, so I wouldn’t have to figure out how to meet her without compromising the identity of my online avatar. Nadia would no doubt check on who came through the shop because information was money. If I had time to throw her off my scent I would send a decoy after I’d been there.

  I sent Veronica a note of thanks, then disconnected. I set up a new connection, using the highest level of security. I didn’t want anyone on the ship to be able to eavesdrop on this information because I was going to check my digital drop boxes.

  Thanks to my semipublic call for information, I had received a flood of messages. I deleted most of them and flagged a few for later follow-up. The latest messages were from the last few hours, so information was still trickling in; I just had to be patient.

  I worked my way through my various accounts, reconnecting each time. In the account most relevant to House news, I’d received replies to the two messages I’d followed up on before.

  The first message related to Ferdinand’s dinner with Evelyn. There was a picture of Evelyn alone in the restaurant and a short note that the photographer, presumably, had been tipped off by a member of House von Hasenberg staff about the meeting. He was trying to get a shot of the two of them alone together, but Ferdinand had never showed.

  We screened our staff, but everyone was human. It didn’t surprise me too much that someone had sold Ferdinand out, but the proof gave us a place to start. The informant might’ve told the Syndicate where to find Ferdinand on the night he was taken.

  I asked Catarina to look into who had access to Ferdinand’s schedule that day. My baby sister was desperate to help. This should be relatively safe for her, while also allowing her to meaningfully contribute.

  The second message had claimed to have information about the shooter. I hadn’t expected much, even from a regular contact when I’d paid the good-faith money, but he or she—and I tended to think she based on the writing—had delivered a treasure trove of information.

  I’d have to confirm the authenticity, but based on a quick look, it seemed legit. The Syndicate had put a hit on me. Oh, I wasn’t positive it was the Syndicate, because they weren’t stupid enough to advertise the contract under any of their official accounts. But if it wasn’t them, then it was the most coincidental timing in the history of the universe.

  The picture became a little clearer. The Syndicate had hired a patsy to cause a distraction by shooting at me and maybe even killing me. I doubted the best and brightest would take a job on Earth, but maybe I was wrong and someone would see it as a challenge—of course, my continued existence sort of defeated that argument.

  I wasn’t sure why I’d been targeted, but as the information specialist, it would make the Syndicate’s abduction of Ferdinand easier if I wasn’t digging for answers. Or it could be that they thought I would be the least protected. Or they could’ve heard that I was in poor health.

  Not only did my contact include a copy of the contract, she’d also included a short list of people suspected of accepting it. This person either had excellent sources or was high up in either the Syndicate or the Consortium. No one on the list was familiar, which meant it wasn’t the top 1 percent jumpin
g for a chance to off me. Not that they wouldn’t, they just wouldn’t do it on Earth.

  Thank goodness for small favors, I guess.

  I closed the connection and reconnected to a different set of secure servers. I would keep digging until Ian returned or it was time to prepare for the party. I set a timer, set the ship to alert me when the cargo door opened, and dove into the Net.

  Nearly two hours after they’d left, Ian and Alexander returned, their armor scratched in multiple places. Both moved easily, though, so nothing serious had made it through the tough composite and into their flesh.

  Aoife handed them each a bottle of water and a protein bar. Alexander stripped off his helmet and chest armor, revealing sweaty hair plastered to his head. Ian took off his helmet, but left his chest armor. He frowned at the floor, not exactly the look of a man victorious.

  I made my way down to the cargo hold. Alexander, Ian, and Aoife were arguing fiercely about something I couldn’t quite hear but the three of them went silent when I appeared.

  “Well, that’s not suspicious at all,” I said.

  “What are you doing?” Ian asked.

  “Deciding if I need to start getting ready for a party or for a foray into Matavara. Did you secure an invitation?”

  “No.”

  The word was so unexpected it took me a few seconds to process it. “No? Did you go to Yuko?” I asked, naming Veronica’s contact.

  “Yes,” he said wearily.

  “Did you tell her it was for me?”

  “No, but she knew. She said you had to come yourself. It’s a trap, of course.”

  “Veronica vouches for her and sent me a letter of introduction. It’s not a trap.”

  “You’re not going.” The words rang with a finality that made me want to gnash my teeth.

  “Director Bishop, I am going to Yuko’s shop or I am crashing a Syndicate party. Which would you prefer?”

  “Matavara is even worse than I remember. I’m not letting you out of this ship.”