Ignite the Stars

by Maura Milan

  “Where is she?” a gruff voice called from around the corner.

  “I think she turned here.”

  Brinn’s hands fumbled with the last wire. Sparks flew. Heat bit at her skin, and she pulled her hands away, blowing on her fingertips, the skin already bubbling from the burn.

  “There she is.”

  Brinn swiveled her head to see a line of slavers storming through the hallway.

  She grabbed the last wire, twisting it around a knob on the power frame. Just fifteen feet away from her, metal screeched from above, and a large door slid downward, blocking their path.

  Fists pounded on the other side of the doorway. It would only take a few moments until they figured out their way back in. That didn’t give her much time.

  Brinn tore through the entrance of the lavatory. She ran to the last stall and kicked in the door. She grabbed the grenade from her hip bag. Just like the teamwork test, she told herself as she stared down into the dingy toilet bowl. With her burned fingers, Brinn plucked out the pin and dropped the grenade.

  3

  Her legs pumped, and she was out the door.

  2

  Past the corner.

  1

  BOOM.

  CHAPTER 54

  IA

  IA FELT A TUG, like cords inside her head had snapped. Her body tore upward as if she were flying. Her brother stared up at her, and with each second, his face grew smaller and smaller. Soon his smile was gone. Flickered away. And so were his body and hers, along with the rest of the world. She felt light, as if she had no weight.

  Am I dead?

  Her body hit the cold metal ground as she fell face-first onto the grated floor. A sob escaped her mouth, and she rushed to suck it back in.

  Shaking fingers tumbled through her hair and onto the damp skin at the base of her neck. She grabbed the cord and yanked it out.

  She was alive. But how?

  Her eyes fluttered open to the color of red as warning lights strobed from the ceiling, and she knew the answer. The ship’s main power source was out, severing her connection with the White Room.

  The whole place was running on backup gennies. It wouldn’t be long before the entire ship shut down.

  Around her, smoke veiled the air, thick and suffocating. Yet even under its cover, she knew she wasn’t alone. Boots shuffled around her. She was surrounded, but she was only thinking about one thing.

  Einn had almost killed her.

  She looked up into the barrel of a gun. Many of them. All pointed at her.

  But there was no fear. Only a darkened cloud swallowing her up within her center. She felt anger, loss. She felt rage.

  “What to do,” the slaver chanted at the other end of the weapon. “What to do…”

  His finger was on the trigger, but she lunged, her elbow cracking his forearm in two. She grabbed the pistol, and through the smoke, she fired. Her aim always hit its mark.

  She fired again. And again. Bodies fell until all that was left were the screams of one man. She ambled toward him, her body swaying like she was possessed, yet her arm remained steady as she raised the gun to his forehead.

  She had no one. There was nothing left.

  “Please don’t,” he bleated like a scared lamb. “I was only following orders.”

  “What to do, what to do…” she mimicked sweetly.

  She pulled the trigger and savored that wonderful sound.

  Ia exited the holding chamber, her legs swaying like wood stilted by a large weight. If she was going to burn, she was going to bring everyone else with her.

  Einn wanted to kill her?

  He should have.

  CHAPTER 55

  BRINN

  THERE WAS ONLY SILENCE.

  Brinn’s eyes fluttered open to a murky darkness. Shafts of light fell around her, crisscrossing through a web of metal, pipes, and wreckage.

  She tried to sit up, but she couldn’t. Slabs of grating laced across her torso, jamming down against her rib cage. If she tried to wiggle free, the whole weight would come crashing down.

  She lay tense, her lungs shaking with each breath. Slowly, her hearing returned, taking in a chorus of creaking metal, the rage of electrical wires, and a voice.

  “Tarver!” It was the flight master. “Where are you?”

  “Here!” She cried, and the smoke invaded her lungs. “I’m here!”

  Above the crumpled metal, footsteps rushed toward her. The weight on her chest lightened until arms scooped her up, pulling her closer and closer until she was blinded by the sudden rush of life.

  “I have you,” a familiar voice whispered.

  She blinked quickly, trying to get her eyes to focus, and breathed in his familiar scent. Like the wildwood near her house.

  “Liam?”

  His eyes shone through the hazy dim. Sweat and dirt smothered his face, and on his cheek, blood had dried from a gash near his ear. But it was Liam. Deus be, it was Liam.

  “I like your hair,” he said with a smile, and she wanted to break out into a sob.

  As her eyes adjusted, she saw the group clustered around them. The cadets, their faces weathered with smoke and bruises, but alive. There were others she recognized. Professor Jolinsky was there, and so was Geoff. Ia would be happy to see him. Even Nero was with them, and the look on his face as he stared at her blue hair didn’t even bother her.

  “Let me through.” The flight master parted the crowd.

  “Sir.” She placed her fist on her heart in salute.

  He nodded for her to follow him, and she hobbled to a more private corner, away from everyone else’s ears.

  “That was quite a plan, cadet.”

  “Thank you, sir. It looks like you didn’t have any troubles.”

  Knives nodded, keeping an eye on an empty hallway. “Luckily, everyone’s too busy getting out of the ship to care about us anymore.”

  As if on cue, the floor rumbled beneath their feet, and Brinn pitched forward. The flight master grabbed her by the arm before she could hit the ground. The vessel creaked around her, like it was about to be torn apart.

  “Warning,” a computerized voice announced. “Depressurization in ten minutes.”

  A chorus of unrest sounded from the group behind them. Knives faced her, looking her straight in the eye. Not as her instructor, but as her peer.

  “What’s the plan, Tarver? You know how we can get out of here?”

  “I’ve seen the maps, sir.”

  Knives addressed the rest of the cadets. “If you want to live, you follow me. No talking back. No questions. Just follow orders. Is that clear?”

  The cadets murmured, not knowing exactly how to respond.

  Knives shook his head and yelled, “Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir!” they responded in unison.

  Knives nodded to her. “Lead the way.”

  “What about Ia, sir?”

  The flight master’s brow furrowed at the weight of her question. “I don’t know.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. That wasn’t the right answer. Not for her.

  She pointed down a hallway to the left. “The flight deck is a straight shot that way. There are enough escape pods to get everyone out.”

  “Tarver, don’t. The whole place is falling apart. Come with us, Cadet.”

  Brinn had to find her. She owed Ia at least that.

  “I can’t do that, sir.”

  Knives nodded, a new decision emerging from the depths of his eyes. “Bring her back, Brinn.”

  “Leave it to me, sir.”

  And she took off through the gaping mouth of a hallway. She had no idea where Ia could be. But she did know the layout of this ship. She could take this place apart, bolt by bolt, panel by panel. If anyone could find Ia, it was going to be her.

  CHAPTER 56

  IA

  IA PERCHED ON TOP of a pile of crates, listening. She knew Crunch would come to the cargo bay. All she had to do was wait.

  “All because of a malfun
ction in the lavatories?” Ia heard him complain to his surrounding crew. “All of you, carry as much as you can, and be careful. For every bottle you break, I’m taking off one of your fingers.”

  Ia watched as his men started moving, but she needed to get to a higher vantage point. She jumped onto a nearby chain hanging from a cargo crane mounted to the ceiling, the sound of metal jangling as she climbed up to the rafters.

  “What was that?” a whisper came from below.

  They were too daft to even realize what she had left for them, to distinguish that old smell of earth. Not many could recognize it, because there was no longer much use for it. But when she had found it in the academy Armaments lab, her eyes had lit up. She had swiped the bright-red bottle and swept it into her pouch, knowing it could come in handy at a time like this.

  She stood in the rafters and sprinkled the rest of the bottle’s liquid contents over everything below.

  Let them burn, a voice whispered within.

  She hummed along to the words singing inside her.

  Let their bones sizzle and sear.

  On the deck, everyone grabbed bottles and boxes of the sauvignon, their hands and suits unknowingly becoming slick with a deep amber-colored liquid. In the low light, it was easy to think it the same as Alpha Crunch’s cherished sauvignon.

  But it wasn’t.

  It was something far more precious.

  The people of Ancient Earth called it gasoline.

  She gripped her pistol, aiming the crosshair at a large slick of a puddle pooled underneath everyone’s feet. Her finger hooked around the trigger.

  Click.

  And just like that, the whole cargo bay was alight with fire, orange tongues burning away at every surface, raging at every wisp of oxygen.

  Ia watched Crunch run through the flames to the center of the mess. His knees dropped to the shattered bottles as the last remnants of his sauvignon disappeared through the holes of the metal grating. Pathetic.

  She landed behind him, her knees bent to absorb the impact. But even then, Crunch hadn’t noticed her.

  Her boots squished and squeaked against the slick floor. She twisted open a bottle she had saved from the inferno, the sound of the popped corked reverberating throughout the space. Crunch turned.

  And only then did he see her. Pathetic.

  “No more goodies.” She smiled brightly, flashing the whites of her canines. He was such a foolish man. So many flaws. So many mistakes.

  She kicked him, and his shoulders cracked against the floor.

  “Please, Cōcha. I had to,” he pleaded. “Einn would have killed me if I didn’t do what he said.”

  “Oh, Crunch,” her voice sang, the tone rich with dissonance. Ia leaned forward until she could see the veins trembling in his eyes. “Einn isn’t the one you should be scared of.”

  “Please…” His eyes flickered to the bottle in her hand. “Have mercy.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “Mercy.” She tipped the contents of the bottle so the fermented liquid smothered his face, and she watched as his lips pursed to slurp it all up.

  “Thank you, Cōcha,” he cried. “Thank you.”

  Pathetic.

  Ia threw her pistol—now empty of its charge—to the floor and kneeled, plucking two hand-forged slaver knives sheathed at Alpha Crunch’s chest. She stalked out of the storage bay, the heat trailing from behind. She crossed into the hallway. The doors closed swiftly behind her. With the butt of one knife, she broke the door sensor so no one else could come in. And no one—not even Crunch—could come out.

  She should have been satisfied. But she wasn’t even close.

  Keep going, a voice sang inside her. Keep going until there’s nothing left.

  CHAPTER 57

  KNIVES

  THE FLIGHT DECK was as empty as an abandoned sky hull. The Armada only cared about their own hides. Most of them had already taken escape pods to get themselves out of the implosion radius.

  By the time they got there, there were only five pods left.

  Knives moved fast, reprogramming the navigation systems on each unit to land on AG-9. He waved the first- and second-year cadets into each of the escape pods, trying to cram them with as many passengers as possible. There was room for twenty-five in each of them, but he pushed in a few more in order to get them all back to Aphelion.

  “Don’t breathe too much,” Knives barked. Their oxygen reserves would be strained by the additional heads per vessel, but the trip was quick. They’d get to Aphelion a little short of breath, but that was better than being dead on arrival.

  After sending four escape pods off, there were only twenty-five cadets and Marik Jolinsky left. All he had to do was get them onto the last pod. He led the final batch of passengers past a line of scouting jets and then spotted the escape pod’s telltale red and white stripes inlaid on its door.

  “There!” He pointed. “Hurry and strap in!”

  The cadets rushed past him but stopped at the sound of gunfire. A group of slavers appeared from the shadows, pistols in hand.

  “This is our ship,” one growled. “So this is our pod.”

  Knives held up his hands, ordering his group to stay still. If it were just him, he might have tried to take them down, but here, too many of his people would be caught in the crossfire. It was too big a risk.

  So he watched as the slavers filed in, guns still pointed. By the time the doors had closed and the pod had departed, he had already counted the number of seats over and over in his head. There had been at least fifteen extra spots left inside that escape pod.

  Those selfish mifs.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing away from the rest of the cadets.

  “Sir, what are your orders?” Cadet Vyking called after him.

  Knives stopped in front of an Armada scouting jet.

  “We fly.”

  There were enough flyers in training to pilot everyone home. Each scouting jet could hold two additional passengers, at most, and fortunately, the slavers hadn’t bothered to lock them down. Knives quickly separated them into groups of three, one group for each jet.

  “Marik, you’re riding in here.” Knives patted the side of his Kaiken.

  Marik straightened his vest. “At least I’ll be with a decent pilot.”

  Knives clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry to tell you this, but I won’t be flying.”

  “What?” Marik stopped in his place.

  “Get in.” He pointed up at the cockpit where another cadet was already strapped in. Marik eased into the extra seat and eyed him warily.

  “Don’t worry, Jolinsky,” Knives called out. “She’ll take good care of you.”

  “She?”

  Knives tapped at his holowatch, engaging the voice activation system. “Autopilot on. Ready all systems for launch.”

  The canopy lowered, and he took one last look at his Kaiken. “Go home, girl.”

  The Kaiken’s thrusters activated, taking off soon afterward. He waved for the other pilots to follow, and one by one, his flyers took flight. Their takeoffs were clumsy, but he didn’t worry. As long as they followed her, they would all get home.

  Once the last of the ships had disappeared into the distance, he sprinted over to the RSF training jet that Ia had piloted in.

  This would be his getaway vessel.

  But instead of getting inside, he waited.

  CHAPTER 58

  BRINN

  “WARNING. DEPRESSURIZATION in three minutes. All personnel must evacuate.”

  Brinn looked up, blinded by red and white lights flashing in warning. Dry heat nipped at her face, a sign that climate stabilization was gone. Next would be the oxygen supply.

  She was running out of time.

  Brinn turned the corner, and in the shadows, a low, throaty howl rose up in agony. It was a man’s voice.

  “Stop,” he whimpered. “Please.”

  But all Brinn heard in response was the sound of bones cracking.

  Brinn’s
instincts told her to turn back, to avoid, but she kept going. She knew who the man was pleading with.

  “Ia!” Brinn cried. She shouted until her lungs creaked inside her. “It’s me. It’s Brinn.”

  Before she could take another step, the man stumbled out into the light. His body off-balance, he crashed to his knees. Even on the ground, he held his shattered arm close to his chest. Both of his eyes were bruised, and his lips were split against the edge of his teeth. She crouched to help him, but he was already scrambling away.

  Now alone, Brinn faced the darkness at the end of the hallway. She took a deep breath in the infinite stillness, waiting for Ia to appear.

  “Baby Bug,” a voice called from beyond the haze. Then, through the churning smoke, a figure hurtled toward her, passing through the dim. Her face was splattered with blood.

  “Ia!” Brinn shouted, but the girl kept after her. Two blades glinted in between her fingers, both pointed at Brinn. Brinn peered through the shadows, past the dried blood on the girl’s face. It was Ia, but something about her was different. Gone was her swagger. Gone was that trademark smirk.

  Ia swiped, her arm circling wide toward her.

  “Stop!” Brinn backpedaled.

  Ia’s arm flung forward, and a flash of metal spiraled toward Brinn. She pivoted, but still the blade sliced through her suit. She grabbed onto her arm, her skin growing slick from fresh blood.

  “Why don’t you run?” Ia screamed at her.

  “Because you don’t scare me.”

  “No?” Her remaining knife flashed as she twirled it through her fingers.

  “No!” Brinn screamed back. “You annoy me. You’re cocky. Arrogant. You never listen. And don’t let me get started on the state you left our room in.” Brinn pointed a finger at Ia. “You make my life so difficult, but you don’t scare me, Ia.”

  Ia stood before her, her body swaying slightly. “You’re a fool. I could kill you. I could slash your face so you can no longer see. You think I won’t?”

  Like a specter, Ia swept forward, grabbing Brinn by the ear.