Zenith

by Sasha Alsberg

  “What’s this?” he asked. “A Xen Pterran rat, caught wandering outside her cage?”

  “General Cortas,” the queen said. She smiled at him, a practiced thing that had yet to fail her, and was pleased to feel the familiar, warm spark ignite in her chest when their eyes met. When, through his war-honed hatred, he noticed her beauty and hungered for more.

  “Take the fool queen aboard,” General Cyprian Cortas commanded. “As my personal prisoner.”

  She did not fight the soldiers as they escorted her onto the ship, as her feet crunched across Xen Pterran soil one last time. She did not look back at the palace, not even once.

  Her husband was wrong.

  Hope was not dead.

  Hope, in the form of the queen’s sacrifice, had only just flickered to life.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  * * *

  ANDROMA

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  Andi whirled around.

  Valen stood at the bottom of the staircase with his arms crossed over his chest, his hair rumpled as if he’d just woken from a long sleep. Or finally resurfaced from hours of painting abstract images on the canvases littered about his room.

  He’d never spoken to Andi much before she was a Spectre. And now, even with her living in his home, their rooms a short walk away from each other’s, he’d spoken to her even less. But he always seemed to be listening when she and Kalee were giggling about the latest drama to spill across the streets of Arcardius. During meals, when Andi and the other Spectres stood guard, she’d watch him curiously. Valen usually sat in the farthest seat from his father, hunched forward as if he were battling some deep, silent pain. Sometimes she’d catch him staring at her with his strange, unblinking hazel eyes, his paint-stained fingers gripping his golden fork like a weapon he didn’t want to use.

  And several times over the years, Andi had caught Valen following her and Kalee through the twisting halls of the estate, quickly ducking into open doorways with heat flaming on his cheeks when she’d whirled around to catch him, worried it was an intruder come to harm Kalee.

  Valen Cortas was silent and strange—a mystery Andi really had no interest in cracking. And yet, despite his oddities, the older students at the Arcardian Academy always talked about him, whispered his name in the halls in between classes when he shuffled past, his shoelaces undone, splatters of paint on his rumpled uniform.

  General Cortas hadn’t even assigned a full-time Spectre for Valen. Kalee said it was because he wasn’t the heir, but Andi had always wondered. The tension between father and son was palpable. It made for awkward meetings when the whole family and their Spectres were present.

  “I asked you a question,” Valen said now from the bottom of the stairs.

  “And I don’t have to answer.” Kalee tossed her pale hair over her shoulder, the polar opposite to Valen’s dark brown.

  Valen frowned. “I was asking Androma.”

  Andi’s mouth opened. Valen never tried to speak to her directly. And now...he was angry, looking at her like she was trying to steal his best friend.

  “We’re going to have some fun, Valen,” Andi said. “Maybe you should join us. Put down the paintbrushes for a little while and see the real world.”

  She hadn’t meant it rudely, but his mouth twisted at her words. And then his eyes fell on the silver ignition card clutched in Kalee’s hand. “You’re not going anywhere. Not with that.”

  He started up the stairs, his bare feet soundless with each step.

  “That’s enough, Valen.” Kalee whined like a caged dog as she nudged Andi farther up the staircase. “Come on, Andi. He’s not going to stop us.”

  “I’ll wake up Father,” Valen threatened.

  Kalee laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Andi stared down at Valen, who, before tonight, had always seemed so quiet, so focused on things inside of himself rather than the world around him.

  “There isn’t room for three in the ship,” Kalee said.

  He continued upward anyway.

  “You can’t come.”

  “Kalls.” Valen said her nickname with a heavy sigh. He looked to Andi, frowning again. “You aren’t going to stop this?”

  “Of course she’s not,” Kalee said. “Come on, Valen. It’s my birthday.”

  Valen frowned. “You’re not yourself when you’re with her, Kalls. Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea. Just...come down. I’ll walk you back to your room.”

  Kalee circled her arm through Andi’s. “I’m better when I’m with Andi, Valen. You’re just jealous because no one is interested in getting on a ship alone with you.”

  Andi blinked in surprise as Valen froze. He stared up at Kalee like she’d just shattered his heart.

  And maybe she had.

  “Don’t come crying to me when Father catches you,” he whispered. Then his face warped with a sad smile. “Happy Birthday, Kalee. I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

  He turned, slinking back down the stairs.

  For a moment, Andi wondered if maybe he was right. Maybe they shouldn’t go. Again, that little voice whispered, This is a mistake. This isn’t in your orders. Your orders are to keep her safe, Androma, not keep her happy.

  But as Andi stared down at the card in her charge’s hand, the thrill of the night swept over her. A promise that adventure was waiting, and a ship with engines larger than any she’d ever had in her control at the Academy.

  “Let’s go, Kalee.”

  She tugged her friend along with her, up the stairs and out the door to the docking pad. The transport sat waiting for them, a silver beast crouching in the moonlight. Andi screeched with laughter as Kalee chased her across the platform, the wind in their hair, the kiss of the night on their skin.

  Tonight, they would be more than just a Spectre and her charge. They’d be partners in crime. Girls on a mission, out to tear apart the silent skies.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  * * *

  LIRA

  IT HAD BEEN 86,400 seconds since the timer started on their mission, and not for a moment had Lira allowed herself to stop moving.

  She paced back and forth on the Marauder, her steps whisper silent as she worried her way past Andi’s empty captain’s chair.

  So many nights she’d found her captain here, scratching tallies into her swords, neck bent as if pressed down by the weight of her sins.

  The first part of the mission had gone as planned. Andi and Dex had gone in, the latter assuming they’d stick to his plan. Little did Dextro Arez know that the Marauders weren’t up for following his lead.

  They’d executed Plan B with the ultimate amount of finesse. Lira would never forget the moment Breck sent Dex flying across the pub with a single kick to his gut. The snarl on the Lunamere guards’ faces as Dex destroyed their card game, Krevs scattered across the pub for anyone to claim.

  After the Sparks had gone off and the Lunamere warden had arrived, Lira and the crew had hightailed their way out of that putrid pub as fast as their legs would allow.

  The last she saw of Andi was when she turned to face the warden, and her inevitable transport to Lunamere.

  They’d locked eyes across the pub, and as Xen Pterran guards surrounded Andi, she’d sent one desperate message to Lira.

  Run.

  It wasn’t a suggestion born out of fear. It was an order.

  Despite everything in her, Lira had obeyed.

  But with every step, she’d felt like a traitor.

  Your captain is in chains, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. You should be by her side. Instead, you’re running.

  All you ever do is run.

  Run from your duties.

  Run from your family.

  The voice, as always, had sounded like Lon’s. Chest deep, full of knowing and love all
at once.

  Lira had shoved it away. Forced herself onto the Marauder, her hands clutching the throttle as she reversed away from the old, crumbling satellite’s docking bay.

  This was all part of the plan. And yet, Lira couldn’t help but feel as if she’d just repeated an act she’d done four years ago.

  Running from what you love most, Lon’s voice ghosted into her mind again.

  As she’d flown the Marauder away from Dark Matter, Lira could only hope, and pray to the Godstars, that Andi and Dex would make it back out alive and with Valen Cortas in tow. Hopefully Andi and Valen would be uninjured. Dextro, she didn’t care a single star about.

  She knew enough about the damage he’d once caused Andi to wish the worst upon him. It took a lot to break a woman like Andi, and yet somehow, he had managed to do it.

  “I’m bored,” Gilly said, interrupting Lira’s thoughts. “I wish Dex was here.”

  The pilot looked up from the dark dash before her. “What?”

  Gilly shrugged. “He’s funny. I like him.”

  “He’s not funny,” Lira said. “He’s Andi’s enemy, and therefore, he is our enemy. And he’s late.”

  A full twenty-four hours after leaving Dark Matter, the Marauder, powered down into survival mode to avoid detection, sat like a dark shadow in the Junkyard. The irony of pretending to be dead in the air when only days ago, Dex’s men had literally killed the ship in order to board it and start this entire mission process in the first place, was not lost on Lira.

  Lira’s scales sizzled as another wave of newly formed hatred swept into her.

  “You’re going to melt the dash,” Breck said.

  Lira sighed and shook out her palms.

  Remove the anger, she told herself. Remove it, because you’re strong enough. Find the control.

  It had been far too long. Andi and Dex were supposed to be out of Lunamere by now, safely back on board the ship. They should have already left this ship graveyard behind, a mere speck in the distance.

  But now?

  They were thirty minutes late.

  Thirty minutes far too late.

  Lira twiddled her thumbs, not knowing what to do with her hands otherwise. A tight knot had formed in her chest, one that refused to relinquish its grip no matter how deeply she breathed. What was the cause of the delay? Had something gone wrong in the dark halls of Lunamere? She couldn’t simply patch into her captain’s channel—the distance between them was too great.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” Lira said to the girls, gaining their attention.

  Gilly, who was flipped upside down on her chair, sat upright. “Andi ordered us to stay put. Do you want to disobey her?”

  “Not entirely,” Lira said, shaking her head.

  “What are you going to do then? We aren’t just going to leave them behind, right?” she asked, eyes wide with anxiety.

  “Of course not, Gilly,” Breck answered for Lira. “She’s just...concerned.” Breck narrowed her eyes at Lira in warning. A private message from the gunner flashed across her feed. Keep it together. Don’t scare the kid.

  Sometimes Lira forgot how young Gilly was. Her youth had been pulled out from under her by the awful things done to her in the past, and her innocence certainly hadn’t been restored by the road she now followed with the girls.

  But she didn’t know the truth, and neither did Breck. Lira frowned as she thought about what Andi had commanded just before they entered Dark Matter.

  If they didn’t return by the designated time, the girls were to save themselves. They were to hide in the darkest hole they could find until they were long forgotten by General Cortas and his lackeys.

  Lira’s scales lit up again.

  She’d followed Andi’s other orders. But this was not one she could obey.

  How could they even trust Soyina? She’d checked out, by their snooping...and yet, Lira didn’t truly trust anyone in this galaxy. No one could, with its twisted history.

  Another minor problem was the fact that, for the second time this week, Lira had been forced to assume her role of Second-in-Command. She hated the title, and wished she could discard it as easily as Breck and Gilly discarded used bullet casings.

  If it was just Lira alone on this ship, without Breck and Gilly, she would storm Lunamere herself until she found Andi, dead or alive.

  It was the very least she could do for the sake of their long friendship. For the chance at a real life, without the heart-clenching, back-breaking responsibility that waited for her back on Adhira.

  But when the other two girls’ lives were on the line? Lira forced her emotions aside, as Adhirans should, and told herself they had to stay put.

  “I’ll be back,” Lira said, turning on her heel.

  “Where are you going?” Breck asked. When Lira didn’t answer, she added, “Lir?”

  “You know she never tells us,” Gilly whispered back, though Lira heard it as she left the room. “Play me in a game of Fleet while we wait?”

  Breck sighed. “Why, so you can slaughter me again? And where is Alfie, anyhow?”

  “I’ll tell you if you play me in Fleet,” Gilly offered.

  Their voices trailed off as Lira exited the bridge, stomped down the hallway and deftly climbed down the ladder hatch onto the deck below. The cool metal felt like heaven on her bare feet. Another ladder, a few quick, graceful strides across the catwalk and she found herself storming through the door at the end of the hall into her quarters.

  Her room was clean, organized and mostly empty, save for the single welded bookshelf, which held her entire collection of romance novels on handheld pads, each with stories of pilots who stole their lovers away on adventures across the skies. Andi herself had gifted the entire collection to Lira on her Aging Day last year.

  Lira had requested a room alone. Breck and Gilly shared the one across from her, which was stacked with soft, overflowing bunks, while Andi took the captain’s quarters above.

  But Lira?

  She enjoyed time to get lost in her thoughts. And she enjoyed the domed window wall that looked out into endless, swirling outer space. No matter where the Marauder traveled, it was always a glorious view. Ever-changing through the varillium walls. Today, Lira gazed out upon the hull of a broken warship, battered and melted into a mere hunk of waste. The Xen Pterran insignia was half missing on one side.

  What size of bomb, Lira wondered, had been used on that ship?

  The Cataclysm was more of a mystery to her than to the others, having come from a planet that was hell-bent on peace. Lira chose not to study it. She was too afraid to discover what a leader would have to do when faced with the horrific prospect of war.

  She sighed and turned her back on the window wall. A small metal cot was pressed up against it. She sank onto the firm metal slab, relishing the cold on her back.

  It was here that she could find a few moments of peace during their busiest days. Here that she could work out the constant barrage of questions and thoughts that peppered her mind day in and day out.

  She’d made a lot of choices since leaving Adhira.

  All of them had involved Andi and the girls. They worked together as a unit. A single organism with many arms and legs—some smaller than others, some with more scars or markings. But still one and the same once all was said and done.

  Some might say that the girls were soulless.

  But they were Lira’s soul. And if she had to bet on it, she’d say that she was a part of theirs, too.

  For years, Lira had dedicated her life to this crew. She had come here as a girl dreaming of freedom. Now, she had it in her grasp.

  Only General Cortas was in the way of that.

  And if anything happened to Andi, after all she’d been through...especially on this mission, Lira would never forgive herself for letting Andi go in alone.

 
She hated to think it, but if anything happened to Andi, Lira would be in charge. What would she do then?

  You’d run, Lon’s voice echoed again. Because power and responsibility are too much for you, little bug.

  But that wasn’t entirely true. Lira piloted the Marauder. She held the lives of Andi and the girls in her hands each time they set out onto a new mission.

  She sighed, closing her eyes. Chasing away the demons. They weren’t as large or as horrifying as those of the other girls, Lira knew...and yet they still plagued her.

  When Lira’s father died from Wexen Pox, a great sweeping disease that took out many on Adhira, her mother had shut down. Then she’d drowned herself in bottles of Griss, refusing help when the need for the drink became too strong. Eventually, she left in the night without a word, leaving Lira and her twin brother, Lon, behind. The last Lira had heard, her mother was still living on Adhira, near the Endless Sea, shacking it up with a gilled man who drank more than the sea creatures he made his living catching.

  Without their mother’s sister, Lira and Lon would have been alone as children. But their aunt had swept into their lives, welcoming them into her home. They were well cared for, well loved. But each year they grew. And with growth came responsibility.

  The family career. Their aunt had no children to take up the job when she died, and so the offer had gone to Lira. She’d refused it, time and time again.

  She’d spent her days training and studying how to pilot a ship instead of attending lessons with her aunt.

  Lon had encouraged her all along, knowing it gave her joy, but hoping it would not be what determined her future.

  And so when Lira had packed her bags and left... She’d never forget the look on her twin’s face. As if she’d just betrayed him. As if she’d reopened the wound their mother gave them both years before. It was the very same look Lira thought she saw in Andi’s eyes when Lira left her in chains, surrounded by guards in Dark Matter.

  It was just her mind playing tricks. Pulling at her weakness. Andi had planned for that capture to happen, step by step. But seeing it play out was an entirely different thing.