Supernova

by Kass Morgan

  She wasn’t the only one who seemed to feel this way. There was a very different energy on the Quatran ship than there’d been the last time they’d arrived. Instead of the tension and hostility Orelia had expected, both the Quatrans and Sylvans seemed almost relaxed as they greeted each other on the top deck of the battlecraft and prepared to make their way down to the cargo hold for the summit. Orelia supposed there was nothing like narrowly averting genocide to put people in a good mood.

  Arran, Rex, and Vesper were waiting for her at the top of the stairs. Orelia glanced at General Greet and thought that perhaps she’d be expected to stick with the Sylvans until the summit began, but to her surprise, Greet nodded at Orelia’s friends. “Go on,” she said with a small smile. “They risked their lives yesterday to get that message to you. They’ve proved their trustworthiness.”

  Orelia felt slightly self-conscious as she approached her former squadron mates. Although their previous encounter had lifted an enormous weight off her chest, she was still hyperaware of her outsider status. Yet there was hardly any time to feel awkward, for as soon as she was within arm’s reach, Vesper pulled her into a hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “I don’t know what would’ve happened without you.”

  “I do. We’d all be dead,” Rex said cheerfully before hugging her himself.

  “Out of my way, Captain Positivity,” Arran said as he playfully jostled Rex aside in order to give Orelia a record-breaking third hug. It was more physical affection than she’d experienced during a lifetime on Sylvan.

  “Thank you,” Arran whispered in her ear. “You were amazing yesterday.”

  As he pulled away, Orelia blushed and shifted her weight from side to side, unsure how to respond to her friends’ un-Sylvan behavior. But luckily, she was granted a short reprieve by a commotion on the other side of the deck. They all turned to see a group of guards escorting a haggard-looking man toward one of the Quatran transport ships. Orelia stared for a moment, taking in the man’s disheveled hair, rumpled, dirty uniform, and bound wrists before she realized who it was.

  Commander Stepney.

  “Good riddance,” Vesper said as she watched the guards load him into the ship.

  “It looks like he’s the one who’s going to spend the next few years getting familiar with the inside of a Chetrian prison,” Rex said, his voice full of disdain.

  Orelia looked from Rex to Stepney, then back to Rex. “I think I might’ve missed something,” she said. “Who else would’ve spent time in a Chetrian prison?”

  Rex, Vesper, and Arran exchanged a look Orelia couldn’t quite read. “Don’t worry,” Arran said to Orelia with a smile. “We’ll fill you in on everything after the summit.”

  “You’ll only be able to do that if it goes well,” Orelia said. “Otherwise, I doubt we’ll be hanging around long enough to chat.” The thought gave her a pang. There was no reason for Orelia to go back to the Academy; she was no longer a spy, and she was no longer a cadet. The only logical option was for her to go home with the returning Sylvan fleet, except that she wasn’t sure Sylvan would feel much like home anymore either. She’d spent the majority of her life on a military base preparing for this mission, a mission no one ever expected her to survive. There was no plan in place for her return. Where would she live? What would she do? And most important, how would she manage to see Zafir again?

  “I’m feeling cautiously optimistic,” Vesper said with a smile as she nodded at something behind Orelia. She turned around to see Admiral Haze speaking animatedly to General Greet and then shaking her hand warmly. “I think everyone wants this to work.”

  Vesper was right. Without Commander Stepney present, the talks were productive and diplomatic, and less than three hours after they’d sat down at their respective tables, General Greet and Admiral Haze rose to shake hands again—and sign the treaty that’d been drafted during the conference.

  The cheers that’d echoed through the cavernous cargo hold was one of the loveliest sounds Orelia had ever heard in her life.

  “We did it,” Zafir said as he walked Orelia back up to the top deck, where the Sylvan crafts had docked. He smiled and shook his head, as if he needed the incredible truth to settle into his mind before he could fully process it. “The war’s over.”

  “Are you worried that you’ll be out of a job?” Orelia teased, trying to push aside the knot of dread that’d taken root in her stomach. As the initial wave of elation receded, it became impossible to ignore the heart-wrenching downside of peace—that she’d be returning home, possibly forever.

  “I doubt it. I just imagine my job will be slightly less stressful for a bit.”

  “What are you going to do with all that free time?”

  “Who knows?” He gave her a significant look. “Maybe I’ll do some traveling.”

  A surge of warmth spread through her, partially dissolving the prickly knot of anxiety. “How far do you think you’ll go?”

  “As far as it takes,” he said quietly, reaching out to brush her cheek with his thumb. “I’d cross the galaxy for you, Orelia.”

  “You don’t have to cross the whole galaxy,” she said as her heart began to race. “Sylvan’s only a few light years away.”

  Orelia and General Greet were alone on the command deck. Greet had dismissed all nonessential personnel to give the crew a chance to rest before they began their journey back to Sylvan. “I owe you another thank-you,” Greet said.

  “I didn’t do much this time. I was just delivering a message.”

  “A message from people who trusted you, despite knowing you were a spy. That’s a remarkable achievement, Orelia. You were sent to infiltrate an enemy base and you came back with allies. You should be very proud of yourself… I know I am.”

  It was the moment Orelia had spent years dreaming about, finally earning General Greet’s respect and approval. Yet the thrill of pride wasn’t enough to temper the guilt churning in her stomach as she thought about the crew of the ship she’d helped to destroy. “There’s something I have to tell you,” Orelia said, taking a deep breath.

  General Greet stared at her inquisitively, probably more perturbed by Orelia’s use of the Quatran phrase than by anything else. Sylvans didn’t announce that they had something to say. They simply said it. “I know I let you down when I wasn’t able to stop the Quatran fightercraft from…” She paused, suddenly unable to give shape to the words that had been echoing through her head for weeks.

  A Quatran would’ve completed the sentence for her or simply nodded to make it clear that she knew what Orelia was trying to say. But that wasn’t the Sylvan way either. They didn’t risk confusion or misunderstandings by making inferences. They asked direct questions and expected direct answers. Just say it, you coward, Orelia thought. The fear pulsing through her veins couldn’t possibly compare to the terror the Sylvan crew must’ve felt in their last moments, as the flames engulfed their ship. “I told my squadron mates about our spread spectrum. That’s how they were able to fry the battlecraft’s shield.”

  At first, she wasn’t sure whether General Greet had heard her. Her commanding officer didn’t respond and her expression didn’t change. Finally, after the longest moment of Orelia’s life, she closed her eyes and said, “That must’ve been a very difficult decision.”

  “It was,” Orelia said carefully, unsure what Greet was implying. “And it’s haunted me ever since. Some days, it’s all I can think about.”

  “I’m not sure what I would’ve done in that situation.”

  Orelia stared at Greet, startled. “You would’ve done everything in your power to protect your people. I’d already completed my mission by then; I’d sent you the coordinates. At that point, the only reason I needed to stay undercover was to protect myself.”

  “That’s a strong motivator.”

  “But it was selfish. The lives on that ship should’ve mattered more,” Orelia said, no longer able to keep the pain out of her voice. If General Greet wasn’t going to cha
stise her, then she’d do it herself. “Dozens of people died because I was too scared to sacrifice myself.”

  “Was it all selfishness?” Greet asked, sounding surprised. “I would’ve thought you were also protecting your friends. Your squadron mates, as you call them.”

  “I was,” Orelia said quietly as she allowed the terrible memories to crawl out from the darkest part of her brain. She recalled her anguish as she looked around the cabin and realized that her friends’ lives were in her hands. If she hadn’t told them about the spread spectrum, they would’ve died. Kind, generous Arran, who’d insisted on being Orelia’s friend long before she was able to give him anything in return. Loyal, brave Rex—no, Cormak—whose cocky swagger was always overshadowed by the sympathy in his eyes. And Vesper, a fiery ball of ambition who wasn’t afraid to incinerate any obstacle in her way… or any person who dared to hurt the people she cared about. “But they’re Quatrans. I wasn’t supposed to worry about them.”

  General Greet smiled sadly. “Orelia, do you really think we’ll punish you for protecting your friends? Your loyalty to them led to the cease-fire. You saved many more lives than you lost.”

  “I didn’t want to lose any,” Orelia said, no longer trying to hold back her tears. “I didn’t want anyone to die because of me.”

  “No one ever does. But that’s what happens during a war. And that’s why we’re all immensely grateful for everything you’ve done in the name of peace.” She placed her hand on Orelia’s shoulder. “It’s time to forgive yourself and move forward. Are you ready to go home?”

  “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now,” Orelia said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m not sure I’d do a very good job as a spy.”

  “I’m not worried about you,” General Greet said with a small smile. “I have a feeling you’ll figure something out.”

  CHAPTER 26

  ARRAN

  Arran could barely hear the cheers as he, Vesper, and Cormak staggered down the steps onto the Academy’s launchport. He was so tired, his ears couldn’t muster the energy to send sound waves up to his brain. He’d never been this exhausted in his life—not after the all-nighters he pulled cramming for the Academy entrance exam, not even after their near-death encounter with the Sylvan ship a few weeks ago. It felt like someone had cranked up the gravity on the track and changed the setting to viscous mud.

  The delegates from the peace summit had just returned to the Academy, and despite the cheerful chaos, nearly everyone on the launchport stopped what they were doing to applaud Arran, Cormak, and Vesper as the three squadron mates exchanged bewildered looks. Arran heard a squeal and a second later saw Cormak being embraced by Orelia’s old roommate, a Loosian girl named Zuzu. “We heard what you did,” she said after hugging a dazed Arran and a slightly affronted Vesper, who’d never particularly warmed to Zuzu. Probably, though Vesper would never admit it, because of her undisguised crush on Cormak. “You saved the negotiations with the Specters!”

  “The Sylvans,” Vesper corrected.

  “Well, whatever. You guys are heroes… again.”

  Arran shrugged and looked around the launchport uneasily, searching the crowd for Dash and feeling simultaneously relieved and disappointed when he didn’t find him. Arran would have to break things off with Rees immediately, that much was clear.

  For the few, terrible minutes when it’d looked like the Sylvans were going to attack the Quatra System, Arran had been consumed by thoughts of Dash. In that moment, he’d realized that Dash was the only boy he’d ever loved, could ever imagine loving, and that he’d been a fool to brush off his apologies. He’d let his hurt pride stand in the way of true happiness, and now it was probably too late. How could Dash ever forgive him for all the terrible things Arran had said to him?

  As Zuzu wandered off, Cormak looked around the launchport uneasily. “I’m not actually sure whether or not I’m allowed to be here.” Arran understood his concern. Cormak had left the Academy as an escaped felon, and unlike Vesper, his crimes had nothing to do with Stepney’s corruption. He was still a trespassing imposter, no matter what acts of bravery he’d performed.

  Vesper took Cormak’s hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she said quietly. “We’re going to figure this out.”

  “Right now, it appears,” Cormak said as he caught sight of Admiral Haze striding toward them.

  “You three have certainly become accustomed to making an entrance.” She pressed her lips together in an unsuccessful attempt to contain the smile spreading across her face. “I hope you won’t find it anticlimactic when you arrive next term on the shuttle, like the other cadets.”

  Cormak stared at her for a moment. “Hold on. Does that mean that I…”

  Admiral Haze nodded. “Yes, I’ve requested an official pardon.” Vesper let out a decidedly un-Vesper-like squeal. “But I’d keep a low profile for a while, until the paperwork’s completed.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cormak said.

  She shot him an irritated look. “And don’t do anything to make me regret it.” Then her face softened. “The Quatra Fleet is lucky to have you, cadet. We’re lucky to have all of you.”

  As Admiral Haze walked away, Cormak looked from Vesper to Arran in stunned amazement. “So I guess that means I get to stay?”

  Vesper reached out for Cormak’s hand and interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m not letting you go anywhere, Cormak Phobos.” He grinned, and then there on the launchport, in front of everyone, he kissed her.

  Arran took a few steps back to give his friends their space, feeling a strange mixture of pleasure and pain at the sight of their happiness. Their love for each other had been tested by the most extreme challenges—life-threatening secrets, blackmail, and war—and they’d come out stronger for it. Yet Arran and Dash hadn’t been able to survive the pressure of coming from two different planets.

  Arran turned and began to wander across the launchport, unsure of his destination. What was he supposed to do now? Go back to his room and stare at the wall until it was time for dinner? What was he going to do tomorrow and the day after that? The war was over and a new future was beginning, but Arran had driven away the only person he wanted to spend it with.

  The corridor was deserted as Arran made his way back to the residential wing, eager for a shower and maybe a long nap. Yet to his surprise, someone seemed to be standing outside his door. Arran felt a flash of annoyance—all he wanted right now was to be left alone—until he realized who the person was.

  It was Dash.

  “Hey,” he said with a smile as Arran approached. “I was looking for you. I hope you don’t mind.” He shifted his weight from side to side, looking uncharacteristically nervous, as if unsure how Arran would respond.

  “Mind?” Arran repeated, then let out a long sigh. “Dash, you have no idea…” He shook his head and started over. “The thing is, I realized…” He smiled, embarrassed. “This isn’t really going the way I thought it would. Or, at least, the way I’d hoped it would.”

  Dash nodded seriously. “Okay, let’s start over and you can show me how you wanted it to go.” He turned to face the wall, then spun around again. “Hey, I was looking for you. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Seriously?” Arran asked with a smile.

  “Yes, come on. How often do people get a second chance like this?” Dash paused as a look of pain flashed across his face. “Though I suppose not everyone deserves one.”

  “Dash, no. I’m the one asking for a second chance. I’m so sorry for what I said. I guess I just needed time to figure everything out.”

  “I’ll give you all the time you need. I just want to make sure you know that I’m sorry for being an idiot.” Dash shook his head. “When I’d heard about the explosion during the peace summit, I thought I’d lost you. It was the worst moment of my life. And I knew that if you made it back, I was going to devote the rest of my life to making things right.”

  Arran was vaguely aware of peopl
e approaching from the other end of the hall, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dash. He wanted to drink him in and make up for every agonizing moment they’d spent apart. He leaned in and brought his lips to Dash’s ear. “I love you,” he whispered, then kissed him.

  Dash wrapped his arms around Arran and pulled him closer until Arran wasn’t sure where his body stopped and Dash’s began. Just the way it was supposed to be. The way it would stay forever.

  CHAPTER 27

  CORMAK

  A few months later

  As he walked out of the Quatra Fleet registrar’s office, Cormak regretted telling Vesper not to wait for him. The streets of Evoline were like something out of a fever dream—slender, soaring towers stretched into the sky, a moving sea of zipcrafts buzzed in all directions. But as much as he wanted to stare at the startling scene overhead, he couldn’t look up for too long lest he knock into one of the countless people rushing along the street. He’d just accidentally bumped into an elegantly dressed older lady who’d released a stream of curses that would’ve turned heads in the seediest Deva bar.

  He’d never seen so many people in one place before: people hurrying to work, hurrying home, or hurrying to one of the hundreds of restaurants lining the pristine streets. There were bistros with piles of tantalizing Loosian shellfish in the windows—Cormak didn’t even want to think about how much it cost to import fresh seafood from off planet—pastel-colored cafés full of pastries as ornate as jewelry, and restaurants serving smoked meat from animals Cormak had thought were extinct. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to choose what you wanted for dinner.

  Cormak glanced down at his link. It was a twenty-minute walk from the registrar’s office to Vesper’s family’s apartment, which meant he had some time to explore before it was time to pack and catch the shuttle back to the Academy. He glanced down at the new badge on his uniform, Cadet Cormak Phobos, and felt a mixture of pride and sadness. For while it was an enormous relief to have this burden lifted, part of him missed wearing Rex’s name on his chest. Yet he knew that, wherever his brother was right now, he was proud.