“That’s the funny thing.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m already dead.”
Then she turned, fading into the crowd. Dex scooped up his pouch of Krevs and trailed after her, a nagging feeling in his mind as he wondered who she was.
And who she used to be.
Chapter Fourteen
* * *
ANDROMA
IT WAS STARING at her again.
“Are you incapable of blinking?” Andi asked.
The AI sat across from her in the meeting room of the Marauder, where it had been since the beginning of their meeting.
“Since I am not a living being, I do not require eyelids to block damaging particles from entering my ocular lens. This means that I am incapable of blinking, Androma Racella.”
If the infernal AI hadn’t belonged to General Cortas, Andi would have unscrewed its head and pulled its wiring out through its neck. Instead, she turned to the second most kill-worthy member of her new crew.
“Silence him, Dextro, before I do it myself.”
Dex tsked, shaking his finger. “Now, now, Androma.” He drawled out her name. “You of all people should know how the general likes his little pets to be.”
Andi’s fingertips flinched toward her sheathed blades.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He held up his gloved hands. “Relax, Andi. I’m just trying to have a conversation. That’s what people do.”
“I don’t want to have a conversation,” Andi said. “Not with you.”
It had only been a day since Dex took up residence on her ship, but it seemed much longer. Not for a single second had Andi been able to escape Dex’s presence. The ship may have been small, but it wasn’t that small. Yet no matter where she went, Dex managed to find her. In her room, where she pored over her photographs of planets, all the places she’d explored, he’d found her. He’d flipped through her classical music collection, then chuckled at the calendar screen flickering on the glass wall. The handsome models from all corners of Mirabel rippled as he flicked through the images, whistling at each one.
“So this is what you like, Androma?” he’d asked, waggling his dark brows suggestively. “I guess I understand why you left me.”
“What do you want, Dextro?” she’d asked.
“We need to talk.” Standing in the doorway of her room, a half smile tugging at his lips, he had looked for a moment exactly as he had long ago, when they’d shared this very space. She’d slammed the door in his face before her memories, and her heart, could unravel her.
How he could make light of their situation, how he could simply come here and want to just talk, after all that they’d been through and all that they had done, she couldn’t fathom.
But she knew that the moment they delivered Valen Cortas back to his father, she’d be rid of Dex forever.
“Your heart rate is increasing dramatically,” Alfie’s soothing voice sounded from across the table. “Do you require a moment to rest?”
She required a lot more than that, but Andi simply shook her head and turned back to the task at hand.
A map of the Olen System filled the air of the room, three glowing orbs rotating slowly around a single sun. To the left of Xen Ptera, the capital planet of Olen, was a mass of gray: the Junkyard, where old ships were cast out into the skies, left for traders to pick over—but more notably, where the last real battle of The Cataclysm was fought, the Battle of Black Sky. It was rumored that Queen Nor’s father, the previous king, had sent hundreds of ships to fight, only to watch them fall from the sky as thousands of Olen soldiers died at the hands of the Unified Systems.
The Junkyard was the perfect place for the Marauder to disappear.
Andi glanced up as the newly repaired door of the meeting room slid open and the rest of her crew walked in. The holographic map flickered as the girls walked through it, then bounced back into place.
Gilly was preoccupied with eating a chunk of bread from dinner. If she had the chance, Andi thought, Gilly would eat all our food stores. Andi often wondered if her stomach was a bottomless pit. The thirteen-year-old was growing fast and had an appetite to match her growth spurt.
The ship’s system, Memory, beeped overhead.
“Incoming message,” the cool female voice said.
Alfie looked up, tilting his head sideways. “An Artificial Intelligence on the mainframe of a pirating ship,” he said. “I have never observed such a thing.”
“We stole her on a job last month,” Gilly explained. “Breck installed her.”
“Incoming message,” Memory said again, “for Dextro Arez.”
Dex stood, the legs of his chair scraping like a wailing ghost against the cool metal floor. “My informant awaits.”
They’d been going back and forth with different plans for hours, finally settling on one that pleased everyone—and most importantly, General Cortas. The general had his claws sunk deep into Andi’s back, even from halfway across the galaxy. He’d already rejected several plans, which seemed to defeat the purpose of hiring Andi and her crew to do a job that he lacked the experience to carry out himself. Their short, often heated calls made Andi long for her days as a Spectre. Back then, he’d respected her, even praised her during rare moments when he’d let his general’s mask come loose. She’d seen him through a soldier’s eyes, trained to gain his approval. He’d given her the freedom to do her job, even allowing Andi to take up residence in Averia so she could stay by Kalee’s side at all hours.
How far she had fallen since then.
Like it or not, General Cortas had to bow to her will on this mission, to respect her methods. She’d told him as much on their most recent call.
“Bring him back to me, Androma,” the general had said, “and perhaps I will.”
Now Andi and Dex had finally settled on a plan. Her crew surrounded the table as Dex left the room, Alfie trailing after him, saying something about conversing with his fellow AI.
The girls waited until they were gone to speak. Lira stood across from Andi, blue eyes searching her face. “You’re looking a bit troubled.”
“I’m fine, Lir,” Andi said with a growl as she examined her chipped red polish. She’d have to ask Gilly to repaint her nails soon. “I thought you said you were going to keep Dex busy. He won’t leave me alone.”
The pilot shrugged. “Dextro is a man with many talents, the most obnoxious of which is that he knows this ship inside and out.”
“That,” Breck added, her massive hands curling into fists as she slumped back into a chair too small for her muscular frame, “and his little leech, Alfie, seems to always be ten steps ahead of us.”
Gilly giggled and wiped bread crumbs from her face. “I’m going to lock the AI in the waste bay.”
Andi smiled at the thought. “The sooner the better. You could lock Dex in there, too.”
This was how it should be, just her and the girls making plans to strike it big. Without a self-righteous, Krev-worshipping man on board.
“We’ll make our first move soon,” Andi said, filling the girls in on the latest part of the plan. She glanced at her Second. “Lira?”
Lira nodded and reached out to swipe a hand across the map over their heads, which was programmed to respond to her and Andi alone. Much to Dex’s dismay, Andi thought with a smug smile. He’d asked her to give him access at least a dozen times already, and she’d shut him down each time. With pleasure.
At Lira’s touch, the planets on the map began to swirl, their muted colors deepening, the sun blazing bright as it spun around the room. Lira tapped a black spot on the map, enlarging the space before using her fingertip to trace a glowing red circle around it.
“That,” she said, pointing to the circle, “is where we are now, in the Junkyard.” The Marauder was currently hidden within the large husk of a fallen warshi
p. If anyone happened to come through this area, their ship would easily be mistaken as a piece of the larger one. That had been Lira’s bright idea, and the exterior damage the Marauder had recently sustained was helpful camouflage.
She drew a line from their current location to Lunamere, where Valen was being held captive.
“This is where we need to be,” Lira said, right before Andi took over.
“The plan is that in two days’ time, we will be meeting Dex’s informant, Soyina Rumbardh, at the Dark Matter Pub, located just outside the security border of Xen Ptera.” Andi tapped a spot on the map just to the left of Lunamere, where a small silver orb hung in the darkness. The satellite pub. “There, we’ll finalize the escape plan with Soyina and initiate the rescue. Dex and I will enter Lunamere while the rest of you head to the rendezvous point.” Andi looked at Lira, catching her in the middle of an eye roll.
Her Second wasn’t happy that Dex and Andi were going in to Lunamere without her, especially with the plan they’d come up with. High risk, possible reward. But it was the best option they had, and they needed Lira to pilot the ship. Plus, as much as Andi hated to admit it, she and Dex did know how to work a job together.
It was what first brought them together, and later tore them apart. They simply had to get through this without killing each other first.
Andi swallowed hard and continued. “At this point, all we need is a map of the prison. Without that map, we’ll be screwed. But luckily for us, our informant should be sending it to Dex as we speak.”
Soyina could be described as a shadow hiding in darkness with few records to be found about her on the galactic feeds. She was a tricky woman who had refused to let anyone but Dex see her face, which meant Andi had to go in blind when she met the woman in person. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she’d faced worse before.
“I know I’m not the most experienced at this stuff,” Gilly said from across the table as she polished her golden gun, “but it all seems a little too easy. How do you know we can even trust this so-called informant Dex has?”
Breck barked out a laugh. “How can we even trust Dex?”
“We can’t,” Andi said. In her mind, she saw Dex’s face years ago on Uulveca, the very first time she’d met him. That sideways smile, his hand wrapped around her throat. His pouch of Krevs coiled in her fist. She should have known that day what he was. What he’d push her to become.
“Dex’s trademark is double-crossing people,” Andi continued. An old dent in the wall of this room was proof of that. Andi still remembered the brain-bashing she’d saved Dex from in the days they’d shared this ship. “That’s why I have a plan B.”
“And that is?” Breck asked, raising a brow.
“Well, ladies,” Andi said as she leaned forward, face glowing in the light of the map. The stars rippled out and away from her touch, as if made of water. “I think Dextro needs to be taught a little lesson in the element of surprise.”
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
VALEN
THE HISS OF the whip sang through the darkness.
A crackle, a pop, and with it, the stench of singed flesh.
The electric whip bit into Valen’s skin, over and over, until he couldn’t suppress his screams anymore, until his throat felt ragged and blood coated the floor like a warm, wet carpet.
They were unraveling him, bit by bit.
I am Valen Cortas, he thought. But as the whip came down again, a crackle of blue that lit up the splatters across the stone walls, it drowned out his own voice in his head.
His torture had begun three months prior, when he arrived at this prison—first with starvation, a hunger so deep he’d felt as if his stomach was shredding itself apart. Then came the questions, the beatings and, shortly after, the floggings.
Since then, Valen had lost track of the times he’d been slashed by the whip or pummeled by the guards’ electric gauntlets.
If he sunk into the blissful oblivion of unconsciousness, they would bring him back with an injection, a prisoner to the horrors he couldn’t escape. The cycle continued without end, until Valen thought the walls had grown claws that tore at him. Until he thought he’d drown in his own blood. Until the very mention of his home planet of Arcardius brought forth maniacal laughter from his lips. Home was nowhere as he drowned in pain in the darkness of Cell 306, a place without color or laughter or light.
I am Valen Cortas, he thought as the whip kissed his skin again, tearing at the tendons beneath. Vengeance will be mine.
More than once, he’d wondered if he had died and been dragged down to hell. But even hell couldn’t possibly be this cruel.
Hiss, rip, singe.
On and on it went until his mantra was replaced by something else.
Why are you taking it? Fight back! a small voice said in his head. Valen nearly laughed as the whip came down again, drowning out the voice. But then it came back, stronger this time.
Don’t be weak like your father thinks you are. Fight back!
How could he fight when he was nothing? How could he shout when they’d stolen his voice, when his body was too weak and too mutilated to move?
Hiss, rip, singe.
Then, as if right next to Valen’s ear, the voice screamed, You will never get vengeance if you allow them to have their way. You have to fight, Valen. Fight back!
As if he’d been plunged into arctic waters, a feeling radiated through him, something he had never felt before.
A power, a want, a need.
The crackle of the whip hissed overhead, promising a swift return. He couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t take it.
“STOP!” Valen yelled. His voice reverberated against the room’s obsidinite walls.
He waited for the next slash, but when it didn’t come, he craned his neck to the side. Even that slight movement sent a wave of pain through him, like he was being dragged across a bed of nails. His vision flickered in and out, unconsciousness tugging at him like a welcome friend.
But what he saw puzzled him.
His torturer, a large man with arms the size of Valen’s torso, had paused midswing. The whip still crackled overhead, bathing the room in an eerie, flickering blue.
Valen didn’t have time to make sense of it before the heavy door groaned open, two soldiers standing guard.
Between them, a robed figure glided in.
“Hello, Valen,” the figure said, and Valen gasped as she drew back her hood. Dark ringlets fell across her shoulders, where a collar of ruby red encircled her throat. And her eyes, Valen saw, were a gold so bright that in his delirium, Valen smiled and imagined painting them. She stopped before him, reaching down to slide a lock of hair off his forehead with a golden metal hand. The fingertips were designed to look like delicate claws.
She was an angel of darkness, come to him in the pits of hell.
When she looked down at him, her smile was as bright as fire.
Chapter Sixteen
* * *
ANDROMA
FROM FAR AWAY the Dark Matter Pub looked like a glowing beacon among the stars. Beside it, a short ship ride away, was Lunamere.
The prison moon was an inky black the color of outer space, pocked with scars from asteroid collisions and impact zones from The Cataclysm. But Lunamere had survived that war, a proud symbol of the system in which almost everything was destroyed.
As the Marauder soared closer, Lira guiding it effortlessly past the few ships that dared come out to this edge of the Olen System, the satellite pub revealed its darker side.
There were entire sections missing, as if a giant mouth had taken a bite out of it, or a series of bombs had simultaneously gone off, ripping it apart from the inside out. Starlight shone through the gaps like winking eyes. It was a wonder the ringed satellite was still in one piece.
Not such a wonder, though, Andi
thought, that it’s the perfect place to find Dex’s little friend.
“That can’t be the pub. It’s a pile of space junk,” Gilly said to the crew as they looked out the Marauder’s viewport.
“Wrong, little girl. It has style. Things that have style aren’t junk,” Dex said, looking down at her.
“That confirms my theory then,” Breck said from beside Gilly.
Dex glanced sideways at her, raising a brow in question.
“Since you don’t have any style, you’re clearly just space junk.”
Andi bit back a laugh and turned back to the view ahead of them. The landing dock was loaded with ships of all makes and models. Silver Thrashers with tails like fish, perfect for carving through the stars. Ice-blue Indigos, with four outspread wings like a giant bird. Then a rare beauty, a Red Recluse. Its sleek burgundy frame could become completely invisible to the eye, not just radar. All of the ships were lined up like multicolored gifts, ripe for the taking.
Too bad they didn’t have time for a joy ride.
It was prime-time for Dark Matter, the end of the sun cycle. Everyone from bounty hunters to prison workers frequented the pub, according to Dex.
Dex slipped up beside Andi to stare out the viewport. “We need to talk,” he said. His smell was the same as it had always been. Like Tenebran mountain trees, fresh and strong. Her pulse heightened at his nearness, and for a moment, things between them felt like they used to.
She took a step away, reminding her foolish heart that this man had been the one to break it.
“We don’t have time to talk, Dex,” Andi said with a sigh. “We’re landing soon.”
“That’s exactly my point,” he said. “We’re about to go into this job together, and I’d rather go in as partners, not enemies.”
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