Also by Amanda Bouchet
THE KINGMAKER CHRONICLES
A Promise of Fire
Breath of Fire
Heart on Fire
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2019 by Amanda Bouchet
Cover and internal design © 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Craig White
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410
(630) 961-3900
Fax: (630) 961-2168
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
This book is for my sister, Alexis.
The lights in the night sky aren’t the only kind of star. Here on Earth, they don’t shine much brighter than you. I love you.
Chapter 1
I sat back in my captain’s chair and breathed, slowly and deeply, letting my body adjust to traveling at a normal velocity again. It was risky to come here, but maybe we’d finally get a break. We needed one. So did the ship.
Outside the bridge’s large window panels, stars winked back at me from the endless Dark. The view didn’t look much different from anywhere else we’d been in the galaxy lately, but no one in their right mind would be here. I was counting on it.
It never ceased to amaze me how vast space was—and yet not a single corner of it was free. No technology existed that could get us beyond the Overseer’s reach.
A red light sputtered to life on my console, and I shot forward in my chair and stared. Communication open/outside channel blinked back at me.
My heart rate went from normal to warp speed so fast it hurt. “Who the hell is in Sector 14 with us?” I demanded, turning to my first mate.
Jaxon’s space-pale complexion whitened even more as his eyes jumped between me and the flashing button. I figured I looked just as ghostly, and not only because we hadn’t seen direct sunlight in weeks.
“No one’s ever in Sector 14,” he said, sounding worried and pissed off. “Half of it’s the Black Widow.”
“Well, someone’s here now,” I answered sharply, days of high stress and almost no sleep adding extra bite to my voice.
We both eyed the blinking red com button again. This part of the galaxy was off-limits. Usually, I was the only one not following the rules.
I scanned the views outside the multiple windows again, not seeing the ship that was reaching out to us. I did see a portion of the gigantic ring of darkness everyone tried very hard to avoid and felt a little queasy, only part of which I could blame on the long jump we’d just made through hyperspace.
The Black Widow was the reason we’d come to Sector 14. Choosing the dicey location was a last-ditch effort to lie low and recharge after three days and seven Sectors of hot-on-our-tail leapfrog with hostile Dark Watch vessels.
I wasn’t an instant pessimist, but this couldn’t be good. The Endeavor was almost out of juice, and the Sectors were crawling with government spacecraft out looking for the vaccines we’d stolen. Only the elite and the military were given access to cure-alls. Someone needed to redistribute more fairly. But when patrol ships had started popping up all around us, instead of emptying the contents of the floating lab we’d found into our own cargo hold as usual, I’d nabbed the entire thing with a vacuum attachment. Now, the extra hunk of ship was sticking out like a sore thumb, weighing us down, and about to get us all sent back to jail. Or worse.
I even had an enormous, leather-clad, bearded man who’d accidentally come with the floating lab. Shit!
My fingers tensed around my armrests. There was no way I was reaching for that com button. Whoever was hanging around Sector 14 and a freaking black hole was going to have to talk first.
Or maybe they would fly right on by…
“Cargo Cruiser model 419, please identify yourself.”
Damn it! They talked.
I stared at the panel in front of me as if it were a poisonous snake from one of the green planets. They had water and pretty plants, but they also had all the nasties I didn’t like to think about. That was what happened when you grew up in a metal box—nature scared the crap out of you.
“I repeat, Cargo Cruiser model 419, please identify yourself.”
I almost recoiled at the tinny, no-nonsense male voice that burst out of my console again. Interference from the Black Widow made the communication shriek like the five o’clock wake-up whistle in prison. I’d hated that whistle. It’d made my stomach hurt.
“Answer him, Tess,” Jax hissed, nodding to the flashing button. “The longer you wait, the more suspicious they’ll get.”
“They’re already suspicious.” Only a ship up to no good would be anywhere near here.
I looked from Jax to Miko. Miko’s good hand still hovered over the navigation panel, her dark-brown eyes bigger than I’d ever seen them. She looked like she hadn’t moved a muscle since typing out the coordinates for Sector 14—where no one was supposed to be.
Swallowing a curse, I turned back to my controls and pressed down on the blinking red com button only long enough to transmit a response. “This is Cargo Cruiser model 419. It’s only polite to identify yourself first.” Even space had etiquette. Granted, I usually ignored protocol, but I could still cite it when necessary.
Jax groaned softly. Miko looked like she was about to pee her pants, which was odd, because I knew just how hard-core she could get when push came to shove.
The same sharp
voice came through in immediate response. “This is Dark Watch 12. Captain Bridgebane speaking.”
Shock jolted me. So did fear. Battleship 12? And Bridgebane? He was a high-ranking galactic general and part of the Overseer’s band of science freaks who had come close to carving me up when I was a kid. All the higher-ups had wanted to know what made me tick differently from everyone else.
Maybe it was having a freaking heart.
I shot a look at Jax, who shot me one back. This whole mess had just gotten exponentially worse.
There was no doubt in my mind that Bridgebane would recognize me. I’d grown up, but I hadn’t changed that much. I still had the same straight reddish-brown hair, wispy bangs, unusual height—which now put me eye to eye with most men—and blue eyes that stood out from a mile away. Before she died, Mom used to tell me that my eyes made her dream of the great oceans and blue skies she’d never see. And she never did. Dad kept us both under lock and key.
And now ancient history was coming to bite me in the neck and shake me hard. Dark Watch 12 was one of the Galactic Overseer’s premier warships and could blow my faithful little Endeavor to pieces with only two or three direct hits. It was a fully armored beast. And I knew my way around it. If not for my oddities—and my conscience—DW 12 might one day have been mine.
“Please identify yourself,” Captain Bridgebane ordered, “or we will be compelled to board your ship and ascertain your identity ourselves.”
And there was the galactic military in all its glory—polite, even while putting a gun to your head.
Boarding us was out of the question. There was nothing on my ship that wasn’t stolen. Hell, even the ship was stolen. Even the crew was stolen because, well, jailbreak.
I reached out and pushed the communications button without letting my hand shake. “This is Captain T. Bailey. You’re looking at the Endeavor,” I answered in the flattest voice I could muster.
“Captain Bailey, Sector 14 is a no-fly zone. What are you doing in this area of the galaxy?” Bridgebane asked.
I wanted to ask him the same question but managed to refrain. I pressed the com button again and calmly said, “Taking in the view. The crew wanted a peek at the Widow.”
I lifted my hand, cutting off all sound from our end, and the longest few heartbeats of my life passed in total silence as the bridge crew stared at me, waiting for their orders.
My mind bounced from one possibility to the next. I’d given my usual false name—any Bailey, especially with only a first initial, was extremely hard to pin down since it was one of the most common surnames in the galaxy—and the Endeavor had fake ID numbers stickered on both sides. I could peel them off and get new numbers up in less than forty-five minutes, even with the necessary spacewalk. But I couldn’t do it with Bridgebane watching.
“Power up, Jax. Time to jump us out of here.” The only problem was, we hadn’t found a safe Sector in days. “Miko, move us closer to the Outer Zones.”
“We can’t, Tess.” Jax shook his head as he examined the data readings on our current energy levels. “We don’t have enough power left to get us out of 14. And they’ve locked on to our com channel now and can follow short-range leaps, even if we use warp speed to stay out of sight and jump around the Sector.”
I stared at my first mate. I’d known we were low on juice, but that was very bad news.
He pivoted the screen portion of his console in my direction, showing me just how fucked we were. Repeatedly hauling the lab at warp speed had put a huge strain on the ship’s energy reserves, and that last, big jump had drained even more power than I’d anticipated. We’d come here to try to fix our power problem, not make it worse.
“Can we get close enough to the nearest star to recharge the Endeavor’s energy core as planned, not fry, and still keep away from the Dark Watch?” I asked, knowing what Jax would probably answer.
He winced. “Even short jumps to stay away from the warship would drain our reserves faster than the solar panels could build them up again.”
I winced, too. “We’ll end up a floating duck.”
He nodded.
“We already have a target on our back, and this is the end of the line.” Usually softly lilting with Sector 10’s melodious accent, Miko’s urgent words flooded the bridge with the near panic I was trying hard to keep at bay. “What choices do we have?”
Bad ones. Without recharging, our already crippled capacity for warp speed would fizzle to nothing in no time, and simply flying away wasn’t going to work, either. A Dark Watch vessel could chase a lot faster than a cargo cruiser could run.
The red com button flashed again before I could even begin to analyze our terrible options, and Bridgebane’s clipped voice came through to the Endeavor’s bridge as clearly as if he were sitting right there. “We see you have three cargo holds and a vacuum attachment that looks like the lab that was recently stolen from the Lyronium System. Prepare your starboard port for a boarding party. Any lack of cooperation on your part will be taken as hostility, and we will not hesitate to fire to recover the lab by force.”
The communication went dead, and my heart slammed so hard against my ribs that it left me short of breath. I leaped out of my chair as I switched to a mapping screen on my console to get an idea of just how close they were.
My eyes widened. Dark Watch 12 was right behind us—and looking straight at the stolen lab.
“Jax! Power up with what we’ve got. And tell Miko her jump range the second you know it,” I said.
“It won’t do any good.” Jax started flipping the necessary switches anyway. “They’ll just follow us and start shooting.”
I glanced at my controls again, at the terrifying digital image of the mammoth battleship hovering on our tail, and then pressed my lips together, trying to hold back what was probably the worst decision of my life. “Then jump us closer to the Widow.”
“What?” squeaked Miko. “We’ll get sucked in.”
“Well, don’t jump us that close!” I kicked the lock on my chair and shoved the whole thing back and out of my way. I didn’t plan on sitting down again while taking four other lives into my hands and also protecting the vaccines that could save thousands of people from the diseases that still ran rampant in the galaxy’s civilian populations.
I watched to confirm that Miko’s hand was flying over the navigation controls before I punched my own hand down on the yellow internal communications button. “Shiori! Get to the bridge. Fiona! You, too! Do not stop to collect your plants. This is an emergency.”
I swung my eyes back to Jax, nerves riding my spine like an icy comet. “Tell us when we’ve got the juice.”
“We’re good to go,” he answered. “At least to Miko’s new coordinates.”
I nodded. Now we waited for the other two. Usually, I’d just have told them to brace themselves for a jump, but right now, with the Dark Watch threatening to fire on our back end, I wanted everyone up front on the bridge.
The bridge was also where we could access the ship’s escape pods, if it came to that—not that I believed they’d do us much good.
Every second lasted an eternity with the warship DW 12 and Captain Bridgebane breathing down the Endeavor’s comparatively minuscule neck. I stood there. I didn’t shake. I didn’t move. My head felt numb. But I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. Not in fear, although there was plenty of that, too. No, it was rage boiling in my chest.
Shiori rushed through the bridge doors, her fingers gliding along the wall. Miko ran to her grandmother and quickly guided the older woman toward my abandoned chair. With her good arm, Miko practically threw the tiny Shiori into my captain’s seat, strapped her in, and then locked the chair back down, not leaving me much room at my console.
Miko raced back to her navigation controls. Shiori reached out to me blindly.
“I think I got us into big trouble,” I said, takin
g her fragile hand.
Her skin felt paper-thin and dry and looked almost unhealthy, the creamy tan shade of it having faded into something pasty from lack of sunlight. The veins stood out, and her tremor seemed worse, but Shiori squeezed my fingers with surprising strength. “We’ve been ghosts for five years already, child. You gave us many more days.”
The heat of unwanted emotion crawled up my throat just as my console delivered new information with a warning signal. Incoming cruiser—starboard side. 200 meters.
I glanced at Jax. “We can’t wait.” Fiona was going to have to deal with taking a fall.
He nodded, and I grabbed the edge of my console for balance.
“Go!” I cried.
Jax hit the small, round button that had saved our lives countless times, and everything went dark and weightless as the Endeavor shot through space. My bones seemed to crunch and shudder and then pop back to normal again as the ship slowed almost immediately. That was the shortest jump of my life.
I shook my head to clear it and then studied the view outside the bridge’s windows again.
Mighty Powers That Be… The Black Widow was all I could see.
“You’re certifiable, Tess,” Jax murmured.
Yeah. I kind of had to agree.
I swallowed hard. “They won’t follow.”
The outside com blared like that awful prison whistle again, sending through Bridgebane’s now-furious voice. “Captain Bailey, you are under military arrest. Jump again, and all crew members on board the Endeavor will be deprived of a trial. Our boarding cruiser jumped after you, and DW 12 followed. Prepare for entry on your starboard side.”
I cursed. How could I have forgotten that Bridgebane would do anything for the Overseer?
Fiona burst onto the bridge, spitting mad. She was barefoot and wearing leggings and a tank top, which probably meant she’d been in a hazmat jumpsuit only a few moments earlier. If she’d had to get out of it before leaving her secure experimentation lab, it was no wonder she hadn’t shown up in time for the jump. At least she’d listened to me and hadn’t stopped to collect her specimens. Botanists got really attached to their plants.
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