Neron Skies: A Space Fantasy Romance (The Neron Rising Saga Book 2)

by Keary Taylor

  It’s been a lunar since I did the unspeakable and brought Valen Nero halfway across the galaxy to get some answers. It’s been a lunar since he said the two words that broke my heart.

  I haven’t talked to him since.

  I feel him there, in my mind. He never says a word. I just detect his presence there. Like he’s looking back over his shoulder.

  Like he’s wishing.

  Imagining.

  But he never says a word.

  So I don’t, either.

  I sit next to the Frank as we rise and rise into the sky. I don’t even remember that planet’s name. It was just a stop. Just a temporary pause.

  It was winter down there. They had plenty of water. We got the food we need to last us a while longer. We’re set to make it through to the O sector.

  Slowly, the white planet begins to get smaller and smaller. And then the Frank orders the ship up to speed, and I’m pushed back against my seat as we rocket back into space.

  It’s only hit me in the last two weeks, just how long it’s going to take us to make it all the way to the E sector and find the Bahiri. We’re two lunars into his journey and it’s felt like an entire solar. And we still have at least eight lunars.

  I’m so bored. So slam bored I want to scream most days. I was looking forward to landing on that planet for an entire week, and for a while, I considered that maybe Zayne was right. Maybe we need to stop more often.

  But the more frequently we stop, the longer it will take us to get to the E sector.

  I need my answers. I need . . . I need to figure myself out.

  Because I’ve completely lost who I am.

  “You okay, kiddo?” Dad asks as he walks into the command deck. He goes to sit in the seat behind the Frank.

  I look over at him, even though I don’t want to. “Yeah. Why?”

  He fixes me with those gray eyes; gray eyes that match his gray hair. There are creases spreading back from his eyes, and more of them beginning to spread out from around his mouth.

  “I don’t think you said more than ten words down on that planet,” he says as he rests his forearms on his knees. “And I don’t think you’ve engaged in more than five conversations in the last lunar.”

  I do look away from him now.

  I don’t want to talk about this.

  It just adds to the weight in my gut. It’s just one more thing that makes me feel like I’m constantly dragging along the ground, like a sack of rocks.

  “I say this only out of concern and love,” my father says. I hear the sincerity in his voice. “You are your own woman, Nova. You’re an adult, and I know you don’t need me. But I feel like I don’t know who my own daughter is, anymore. And I haven’t for the last several lunars. What’s going on?”

  I don’t even know where to begin with that answer. I don’t know how much I dare say. I don’t know if I can identify all the specifics of what is tearing me apart and left me with no clue as to who I am as a person, anymore.

  But I think to the last time I did feel good. When I was with Valen and I was being honest and he was being honest with me.

  “Just before we left Korpillion,” I say, turning toward Torin without lookinghim in the eyes, “you remember when we were trying to get to the Airspace and we got separated?”

  I hear my father nod.

  “I had to get around that building that collapsed,” I say. I can see it in my head. As clear as if it just happened two seconds ago. “I ran into Valen Nero there.”

  A word slips over my father’s lips. It’s quiet, so I’m not entirely sure what he says, but it sounds like a curse, one I’ve never heard before. I look over at him, and the fear and distress on his face . . . my heart swells with appreciation for the one man in this galaxy who loves me unconditionally.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asks.

  No, I think. Yes, my heart screams into the abyss of space.

  I shake my head. “We talked. I don’t know what happened, how the opportunity came into being.” Really. Neither of us understands the bond and connection we share. “We talked about good and evil. About fate and control.”

  My father is very quiet. He’s mulling it all over, unsure what to think about it all.

  “He has this conflict inside of him,” I say. I feel myself turning inward. Pulling into myself and into my thoughts and my memories and experiences. “It’s like . . . he’s trapped by his own mind. I don’t think he’s as evil as the galaxy has made him to be.”

  “He’s helped Cyrillius take over dozens of planets, Nova.” I’m sucked back into the room with the sound of Torin’s voice. “He’s killed countless innocents. We all have our freewill. If he had any good in him, wouldn’t he walk away? Wouldn’t he put an end to Cyrillius?”

  There’s that word again. Good. Is there really any of it left? Does it still exist?

  “I think he wants to,” I say, my voice little more than a quiet whisper. “But for some reason, he can’t.”

  We’re quiet for a long moment, and then I finally remember that I brought this up. I opened up about this when my father asked why I haven’t been myself lately.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to make my brain think logically again. “I know he’s done a lot of evil. But he also let me go, Dad.”

  My father’s surprise at that isn’t hidden.

  “I guess the encounter has just left me with a lot of soul-searching questions,” I say, bringing focus back to the conversation. “It’s made me question a lot of things. Myself included.”

  I appreciate that he doesn’t say anything immediately, doesn’t default to the first thing that comes to his mind. He takes a minute, finding wisdom instead of instinct.

  “It’s okay to question yourself, Nova,” he says. Finally, I let my eyes rise to meet his. “Otherwise, we get stuck in a rut. We don’t allow ourselves to grow. It’s okay to have to find who you are more than once. But you’re washing out lately, Nova. You’re sand, scattering across the floor, getting spread thinner and thinner. You need to figure out what your purpose is, again. You need to find a reason. A goal.”

  He leans forward, placing his hand on my knee. “You’re one of the most driven people I know. People like you, they don’t thrive when they don’t have something they’re reaching for. Find your passion again and I think you’ll find yourself once more.”

  I take a deep breath. I feel a spark in my chest. The first I’ve felt in a lunar.

  I nod. My brows furrow together a bit. “Thank you,” I say. And I mean each word.

  “You’re so much more than this, kid,” he says, reaching up and brushing a thumb over my cheek. “It’s time to get back to being the queen you’ll always be.”

  I offer him a small, broken smile, and I know. He’s right.

  I have to find a way to start being me again.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying to me?” Zayne says as he looks over at me from the co-pilot’s seat.

  “Because you’re a distrusting worry-barnacle,” I say without looking at him. I see the data blinking on the holoscreen, showing all the information before we begin our descent.

  “Just a few weeks ago you were lecturing me about being in a hurry,” he says, folding his arms over his chest. “We just stopped for supplies eight days ago. We’re set. So why are you so determined we go a full day out of the way to go to Laziria?”

  “This isn’t your ship, Zayne,” I bite. “Just because you can fly it doesn’t mean you’re the boss. My ship. My schedule.”

  He looks at me like I just slapped him. I know I was just way, way too harsh, but I’m just so slam sick of having to explain myself to him. To anyone.

  Hazards of having people you care about.

  “I would think you wouldn’t complain too much about stretching your legs and getting fresh food,” Reena calls him out.

  I look at her with surprise and appreciation. She so rarely takes my side or has my back. />
  Zayne glares at the both of us but looks back out the view window, at the blue and green planet we’re approaching.

  Laziria is one of those planets I could never, ever have afforded to move us all to. It’s the largest planet in the P sector. With not a trace of Neron on it, it’s population is surprisingly under control, considering it has a variety of terrain, the vast majority of the planet is livable, and it has fantastic natural resources.

  Five families own most of the planet because they’ve inhabited it for eight centuries, long before Dominion came and started taking over the galaxy. They’ve kept the prices sky high, so very few can actually afford to live on the planet. They take care of their workforce, have specific housing for them, so the elite rich don’t have to do the grunt jobs. They educate their citizens, so they can keep rising, keep improving their planet.

  It’s a beautiful planet filled with smart, educated people.

  But they’re all know-it-alls with their noses turned up at everything.

  We set down at the busy Airspace and an attendant is waiting for us as soon as the hatch opens.

  I pay the landing fee—a whopping three thousand credits, just to land here and leave the ship for a full day—and then he calls a transporter to pick us up and take us into town.

  “I need a full day here,” I say as the four of us slip into the luxurious transporter. The seats are soft—some kind of leather. There are complimentary drinks in a refrigerated cooler in the center of the seats. Cool air is filling the space. The windows are crystal clean and clear, giving us a view of the pristine buildings that surround us, and the mountains beyond. “Dad, you and Zayne can go do whatever you like in town, but I need some time to myself.”

  I don’t look at Zayne. I’m not in the mood for his scowls.

  “I don’t like this, Nova.” But fathers are fathers.

  “Everything I’m doing today is completely legal,” I say, looking over at Torin. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Then you shouldn’t be so against me coming with you.”

  I don’t have time for this.

  I’m a grown woman. I have my own life to worry about.

  “I have Reena running an errand for me, so don’t bother her.” I ignore my father’s last statement instead of arguing. I pull out my holotab and look up the information, double checking the address I pulled up earlier. “I just gave you all an extra thousand credits.” I tap my connect-link and then each of theirs ding, the money received. “Go have some fun. Enjoy the time on ground.”

  The transporter rolls into the middle of town, which is a series of impeccably organized city blocks with clean, beautiful architectural buildings, none of them more than a dozen stories high.

  It’s the opposite of Korpillion.

  If they weren’t all so stuck up here, I think I’d actually like living here.

  We stop alongside the curb.

  “I’ll meet you all back at The Corsair tomorrow evening,” I say.

  I don’t make a move to get out, and it takes them all two seconds to realize this was my invitation to make themselves scarce.

  They slip out of the transporter.

  The moment they’ve closed the door, the driver takes off, headed for the address I gave him.

  We drive across town, out toward the north edge of it. Here, the buildings become simpler, with less flourishes and natural beauty, and more simple lines, concrete and working transports.

  But no less clean.

  I see it up ahead, and recognize the company name as the one I looked up. The building is solid gray, broken up by enormous windows that overlook town. It’s so clean I can hardly fathom it. We had warehouses and buildings like this back on Korpillion—all the bases for towering skyscrapers, but they would have been covered in grime and dusty smoke.

  “Be back here to pick me up in three hours,” I instruct the driver as I pay him the credits for the drive. He gives an affirmative nod.

  I step out, looking up at the shining building. And suddenly, I feel out of place.

  I’ve been trying to find my place, taking charge and making decisions. I had so much confidence and bravado on the ship. But I realize now that it was only because I was the one who has access to all the credits Valen gave me, and everyone sees the ship as mine since the anonymous rescuer sent its location to me.

  But I’m not really anyone. I’m a maintenance worker; a grease monkey. I have no leadership skills, and I don’t even like people that much.

  But like my father said: I need to rediscover who I am.

  And maybe this is part of it.

  So, pulling my confidence back in, I walk up the four steps that lead to the great front door, and let myself in.

  I am a good liar. That much I know about myself. I can fake it when I need to.

  And as I talk with the director of this manufacturing company, I fake like I know what I’m doing. I fake that I know how to do business. I fake the handshakes and the smiles.

  But looking at the tools and equipment his company makes, that is real.

  I know a good forge when I see one. My eyes light up in excitement over the compact design I never would have even dreamed of.

  I have to hold in an excited scream over the latest forging and welding tools.

  I’m drooling over the quality of steel and titanium. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  Three hours later, I transfer eighty thousand credits to the man and his company. He allows me to personally oversee his crew loading up a large transport vehicle with everything I just purchased.

  My driver arrives just in time. I tell him to follow the company transporter, and then I oversee everything as the crew members unload the supplies from the transporter and put everything in the maintenance room on our ship.

  I tip the delivery people, which kills me a little bit. I’m bleeding money today.

  But I have to do something.

  I have to find myself again.

  Once more, the driver takes me back into town, and I get out on a random street.

  Alone, I wander the streets, ducking into a shop for food when I’m hungry. My taste buds still explode at real food every time I eat it. And then I pick up a new tunic and a new pair of real leather fingerless gloves to go with the boots I acquired on Stippe.

  That night, when I get to a hotel, the most luxurious and expensive thing I could have imagined, I check how many credits I still have.

  I’m still at over three million. I’ve nearly burned through all the credits I’d saved before Valen dumped so much of his into my account. But it will still take me solars to spend everything he gave me to escape doomed Korpillion. I know that was his plan. He wanted me to get far away and never have to think about turning back.

  I shove thoughts of Valen out of my head, and step into the nicest, biggest, most over-the-top shower I’ve ever seen in my life. And I let myself enjoy it.

  The next morning, Reena sends me a message that she acquired all the Neron I asked her to get. I figured this was her world before, she was the most likely person to find the underground people I knew were on every planet selling small shards of Neron for sky-high prices.

  I can’t make new Neron weapons without any Neron.

  I told her I needed twenty pounds and not to come back with any less.

  I smile as I step out of the hotel in fresh clothes, knowing it’s mission accomplished. We can leave the planet now, but I’m not quite ready. Anything could happen on this planet, but I know exactly what’s waiting for me on that ship.

  Turning right outside of the doors, because why not, I set off wherever my feet might take me.

  The people on Laziria are friendly, but in the fakest way I’ve ever encountered. They offer thin-lipped smiles and a flat, how are you, but they aren’t looking for a real answer. Their eyes and their bodies move on before I ever get the chance to open my mouth.

  They’re all dressed impeccably, and it takes me a moment to realize they’re almo
st all dressed in the same black, white, and emerald green color scheme. There are exceptions: most of the working class wears solid black, or the occasional grey.

  I look down at myself. My boots are black. My pants are a lighter gray. My tunic is black, buttoned up high to my chest, with Neron blue stitching. My fingerless gloves are black.

  Almost everyone on this planet has black, or nearly black hair.

  I’m standing out in a wicked obvious way.

  But somehow, I don’t care.

  I’m leaving this planet in just a few hours.

  I eat breakfast, some kind of egg and red vegetable combination that I realize I don’t actually care for, the first non-Korpillion food I’ve eaten that I haven’t greatly enjoyed. I head toward a park that’s spread out on the east side of town. There are birds here, flying around, diving toward this old woman who sits alone and is feeding them some kind of seed.

  Entertained, I find a bench and sit, watching as they swirl and dive around her.

  It’s a really nice, beautiful day.

  But feet pounding the pavement across the park wrecks the whole thing.

  I see a boy running, some kind of food in his hand. He eats it, desperately, like he’s trying to down it before anyone sees. He ducks behind a massive sculpture of some sort of animal I’ve never seen before, and looks around the corner of it as he wolfs down whatever it is he’s eating.

  I look in the direction he does, and see a merchant at the far end of the park, looking every direction. He takes off along the side of the park when he doesn’t see anyone, in the opposite direction.

  The boy stands back up, walking farther away from the merchant, but now I realize, he’s not a boy, but a young man, probably just a few solars younger than myself. He’s just gangly, but certainly taller than I am.

  He continues gobbling down the food in his hands. The second it’s finished, he tosses some kind of core away into the bushes.

  He’s halfway across the park now, heading my direction, but a bit farther north, when three men in uniforms step onto the grass.