Endellion kicked him square in the gut. He sailed back, collided with a bench, and then vomited blood across his white enviro-suit. Guy wasn't getting up after that, but he did squirm across the floor, whimpering.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I turned back to Endellion. “I should've kept a better—”
I stopped cold.
Endellion's hand shook as she reached for a pouch on her enviro-suit belt. She withdrew a small squeeze-tube of Liquid Skin and applied it straight to the injury in generous amounts. Although the computer beeped for further prompts, she ignored it in favor of dealing with the tiny wound.
“It's just a cut,” I said.
She said nothing, her focus consumed by the scratch. She applied a second layer of the Liquid Skin and rubbed it in, her hand still trembling.
I forced a laugh. “I guess you're an old-school woman at heart, right? Worrying about your beauty?”
“Kill him,” Endellion commanded. There was a cold seriousness in her tone unlike anything I had heard from her before.
The order took me by surprise. After a hesitant moment, I turned to the sad sack on the floor with a cocked eyebrow. He struggled to find his breath—and his stomach—after a kick like that. He had attacked us, though, and he was an enemy that killed the crew of this ship just to take their cargo. And I was sure he would strike again, if his body wasn't frozen in shock.
Plus, I had already given him his life. If he had stayed in the corner, he could've lived.
I took aim with my plasma rifle and fired, creating a hole through his skull, and a seared dent in the bulkhead behind him. He collapsed, unmoving.
When I glanced back, Endellion was still engrossed by the nick on her shoulder.
“Is it really that important?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Superhumans don't have scars.”
“So?”
Endellion finished with her task—her injury coated and massaged to perfection—and then resumed her work at the computer terminal. “A superhuman never would've let that happen,” she said in a low voice. “They never would've been caught off-guard. They never would've been wounded.”
I slung my rifle over my shoulder and shook my head. “Don't be crazy. You can't hold yourself to superhuman standards.”
“How can I think of them as my equals if I can't hold myself to the same standards?”
Her response stopped my line of questioning. She wanted to think of herself as their equal? Endellion really was ambitious. That was borderline insanity, or maybe unchecked narcissism. Or maybe she wanted to be seen as an equal. Was that her real goal? Not ruling a planet, but being seen as an equal to the members of Homo superior?
“That guy tried to kill you,” I said, my thoughts piecing together a different mystery.
Endellion nodded. “That he did.”
“Not me. You. And the captain of the Rampart knew you by name. Why do these guys care so much about who you are? You fuck them over or something before you left their ranks?”
“I sold the Federation hundreds of locations, passwords, encryptions, and personnel files from the rebellion,” Endellion said. “I was a United-Earth officer. I had a fair amount of access to their confidential material, and I took advantage of it when I left.”
I couldn't stop myself from laughing. No wonder they wanted her dead! Way to make enemies. Way to make a lot of enemies.
“Why?” I asked between bouts of mirth. “Just because you could? Did they fuck with you or something?”
“Buying a starship takes a lot of credits, Clevon. When you come from a backwater world, no one wants to loan you anything, and my parents were on the brink of starvation. Where else was I going to get the funding to start my own enforcer unit?”
I got my amusement under control and scratched at my chin. “Does anyone else know about it?”
“Some. Not many. I met most of my crew after the incident. I wouldn't hide it if they asked, just as I didn't hide it now. But the rebellion isn't an organization that deserves respect or reverence. They're terrorists and thugs. I don't regret my decision.”
She finished copying the information, detached her PAD, and then glanced over at me. “You're only as good as the obstacle that stops you from achieving greatness,” she said. “And I'm much better than the rebellion.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
MIDWAY STATION
The mess hall wasn't as crowded when half the enforcers were stationed on the rescued cargo ship. It was almost as noisy, however. I supposed coming out on top of a fight had excited everyone, not just me.
Lee sat on top of the table, pink in the face, as he downed another brandy pouch. “We're unstoppable. The enemy didn't even touch us.” He motioned for another drink, and Quinn passed it over with a cocked eyebrow. Lee cracked open the straw nozzle and gave her half a smirk. “I vote we get a vacation. Well-earned, I say.”
“A vacation?” Quinn repeated. “You get hammered every evening, babe. How is that not a mini-vacation already?”
“I have to wake up for training the next day. We deserve to sleep in. Right, Yuan?”
Yuan shook her head. “Don't drag me into this.”
“Oh, c'mon,” Mara said, grabbing Yuan by the arm. “I want to sleep in. Vote. Do it for me.”
Rolling her eyes, Yuan let out a long exhale. “Fine. I vote we should get a vacation. At least until we reach Midway Station. That's only a few days from now.”
“See?” Lee said, pointing with his pouch. “Yuan knows what's up.” Then he turned his drunken attention to me. “Do it for Demarco. Did you see the way that guy piloted? He deserves to sleep in.”
“I don't need to sleep as long as the rest of you do,” I said as I nursed my pouch. “I don't have a stake in this.” And no matter what Quinn decided, I was going to stick to my training.
Mara leapt over Yuan, slid down the bench, and then shook my shoulder. “Us mere mortals would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep. Please vote for vacation, Demarco!”
“Knock it off,” Quinn said as she shooed Mara away. “I swear you lose a few years of maturity for every sip you take.”
“So, you'll give us the vacation?”
“Yes, all right? We all get a vacation. But only until Midway Station. Then it's back to our regular training regimen.”
Lee did a fist pump before throwing back the rest of his brandy pouch. The guy drank like he had been genetically modified to handle alcohol—at least, for the first few hours. He was on the verge of sloppy, and everyone knew it. When he went to grab another pouch, Quinn crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side.
“I'll be fine,” Lee replied with a laugh. “I don't have to wake up tomorrow.”
That comment got everyone laughing. Everyone but Advik. She stared at me a little longer than was polite, and I returned the gesture with narrowed eyes. When she remained silent, I set my pouch down and frowned.
“You got a problem?”
Advik had a face and frame that was easy to forget. Her black hair and copper skin matched most everyone else's, and her voice was quiet as a mouse.
“I learned to pilot from someone like you,” she said.
“Someone like me?”
“Genetically modified. He was the best pilot I ever met.”
“But now I'm the best, right?” I asked as I stroked the collar of my enviro-suit.
Advik turned away, a slight blush on her face that got me excited. “He was full of himself, too. I'm glad Endellion brought you aboard.”
I sidled up to her, ready to ask if she wanted to play out some student-teacher fantasies when Noah came striding up to the table, his head high, and a smile on his face. The others noticed him a second later, each cheering his arrival with a whoop and a raised pouch.
“How're you feeling?” Lee asked. “Get over that vertigo?”
Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Got some medicine, and they fixed me right up.”
“You'l
l get over it eventually! Everybody goes through it. Well, except this jackass.” Lee halfheartedly punched my arm.
“It's okay to admit you're jealous,” I said.
“As long as I have Quinn, there's nothing I need to be jealous of.”
He took Quinn's hand and kissed her knuckles. Quinn laughed, but the adoration in her eyes was hard to mistake. She pulled him close, and the others at the table broke into ahhhs or eye rolls. Yuan motioned to Mara and nodded towards the exit, and they stood before anyone could protest.
Noah took a seat next to me. “You're back already? What did Endellion want?”
“She took me over to the cargo ship, and we killed some straggler rebellion soldiers.”
“That's it?”
“That's it.”
“Seems… like a waste of your talents,” Noah said as he grabbed himself a brandy pouch from the table.
I sipped the last of my drink and mulled over the events. Endellion had surprised me. I'd thought she would be straight-laced, but I suppose that was foolish. No one was ever 100% clean. Everyone had some dirt—white lies, theft, cheating at a game. I had met men and women far worse than Endellion on Capital Station. What she did was child's play compared to the darkness of a depraved thug.
So why did it give me pause when I thought about her?
“You okay?” Noah asked.
I gave him a sideways glance. “Yeah.”
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Are you sure nothing happened?”
I glanced around. Everyone continued their celebrations, some drunker than others, but everyone remained in high spirits.
“Nothing else happened,” I said. “It was odd that Endellion wanted me to stick with her, but I did.”
“Yeah. Odd. But I guess she really trusts you. She's never asked anyone else to join her on a mission away from the Star Marque.”
Was that so? What happened on our outing was a dark little secret?
Really made me wonder.
* * *
I stared at the ceiling of my capsule bunk, unseeing.
It was hard to sleep. An anxious energy still coursed through me, and I took deep, slow breaths to help quell the restlessness. We would reach Midway Station soon, and then we would get off this rig for the first time in six months. I'd technically left when I entered the cargo ship, but the entire event felt like work. It hadn't counted.
The credits we would pick up at the station would be substantial. Endellion took as much from the rebellion cruisers as the Star Marque could carry. We left the husks for salvage crews, but some of those computer components could fetch a high price, even when disconnected from their starship.
“Did you have fun celebrating?” Sawyer asked over the comms, breaking my thoughts with her unexpected communication.
I stretched and tucked both my hands under my head. “Always.” I had never celebrated like that on Capital Station. It felt welcoming on the Star Marque. Almost wholesome. Hard not to get addicted to the company and good times.
“Everyone looked like they enjoyed themselves.”
“Heh. Yeah. I guess they did.” I exhaled. “What were you doing during the dogfight? Just watching me perform?”
“I was watching everyone's performance. It's my job to maintain the starfighter systems for each pilot, so they can focus on fighting. I'm everyone's navigator.”
“All eight pilots?”
“Yes.”
“You've got a legendary ability to multitask.”
“That's what I was designed for.”
I took in another deep breath. The way she'd said that last statement was so detached, like the thought bothered her on a deeper level. Maybe I needed to change the subject.
“Endellion do anything to celebrate?”
“She never celebrates things like this.”
“Why not?” I asked with a laugh. Seemed like as good an event as any to celebrate. People on Capital Station would sometimes just celebrate the time of year, not necessarily an accomplishment.
“Endellion says hundreds of thousands of people have won simple space engagements. It's nothing noteworthy.”
Goddamn. Even she failed to impress herself, apparently. “I think Endellion needs to loosen up.”
“She likes to stay focused.”
I closed my eyes and thought back to all my training. I had become more focused lately, that was for sure. Endellion's drive was admirable, and if I had a fraction of her willpower I would have been ten times the man I was now. I couldn't let her get too far ahead of me, not if I hoped to catch up.
“Do you know what happened on the cargo ship?” I asked.
“Of course,” Sawyer drawled.
“About the medical research?”
“Yes.”
Interesting. Sawyer knew we were stealing but never voiced an objection. At least, not to me.
“What do you think of it?” I asked.
“I think Endellion occasionally breaks the rules for the greater good.”
I laughed. “Spoken like a true fanatic.”
Sawyer huffed over the comms, crackling the speakers with her haughty dismissal. “Endellion rescued me and Blub, thank you very much. Breaking all sorts of laws to do so, I'll have you know.”
I tried to say something, but Sawyer continued, heated, “And she's not supposed to take the genetically defective if they require medication to function, either. That goes against enforcer crew bylaws. And she's only supposed to pardon criminals who have done harm to her crew or starship in the line of duty, not random criminals she picks up from backwater space stations. Sometimes she bends the truth or goes against official conduct, but she's never failed us… so I'm willing to go along with it.”
I waited while Sawyer took a few breaths of her own.
“If Endellion fails, we all fail,” Sawyer intoned, shifting from agitated to serious. “I'm willing to follow Endellion to the end, even if she makes risky decisions. If that makes me a fanatic, so be it.”
I asked, “She rescued you and Blub?”
“That's right.”
“From what?”
“Our creator.” Sawyer sighed. “Homo superior has no reason to think of Homo sapiens as equals. Let's just… leave it at that.”
* * *
I stepped off the Star Marque and froze in the middle of the walkway.
Midway Station was unlike anything I had imagined. It floated in orbit around Vectin-14, the capital planet for the whole quadrant, attached to the surface with a space elevator that led all the way to the surface. A quick glance upwards rewarded me with a sight far different than I had ever seen.
Large segments of Midway Station had been constructed with transparent metal alloys, allowing a hazy view of the planet far above us. Vectin-14 shimmered with an array of whites, reds, blues, and purples—a planet of color, unlike the dull grays and lifeless black seen on most starships. The system's star, Vectin, shone beyond the edge of the planet, creating a halo effect with the atmosphere.
“Remind you of Capital Station?” Quinn asked.
“Fuck no.”
“It's a space station.”
I chuckled. “I won't feel at home until I've got a knife against my throat and a group of gangsters attempting to rob me blind.”
“That can be arranged,” Quinn said with a laugh of her own. “I used to run with guys like you when I lived here. All thugs. Most of them addicted to chems. We made our money hustling defects.”
“I remember you saying that,” I said, still enthralled with the colors. It was almost like seeing the sky. Almost.
“You look like the cargo workers I stole from as a kid. It's real easy to pick someone's pocket when their head is craned upward.”
“I feel sorry for the chump who tries to steal from me.”
“I was pretty good back in the day. Only got caught when cameras were involved.”
A piece of me wanted to ask, Is that a challenge? But I kept it to myself. Quinn was just bragging about he
r glory days, and I liked hearing about them. It really didn't matter if I could have caught her younger version pickpocketing, anyway. Instead, I enjoyed the moment a bit longer, before continuing my walk onto Midway Station.
“Where're you going?” Quinn asked.
I stopped and glanced over to her. “What do you mean? I'm going to look around. I'm not part of any ground crew.”
“Endellion said you're with us for the meeting.”
Me? For the meeting?
I understood why she'd wanted me in the meeting on Capital Station—I was the enforcer that busted the chem ring, after all—but why did she want me now? The question lingered without Quinn picking up on it. She motioned me over with a wave of her hand, and then headed for the overseer's administration office.
Although I was curious, I kept the questions to myself. I jogged to meet her, and then stepped into the office. It was like a building, considering the faux sky “outside.” The administration office was nearly identical to the one on Capital Station. Cold. Unfeeling. Lacking color.
Endellion and Lysander waited for our arrival, both dressed in their enviro-suits with their helmets back. Federation soldiers lined the walls, standing at attention while Midway Station workers buzzed around their computer terminals. I didn't even have a second to greet Endellion before a hush fell over the room, quieting the workers. The soldiers stood a little taller, and a man entered from the far door, his enviro-suit decorated like Endellion's.
“Ah,” Endellion said with a forced smile. “Commodore Cho. It's a pleasure to see you again.”
The commodore—flanked by eight soldiers—strode up to Endellion and stopped with military precision.
“Commodore Voight,” he said. “I'm surprised you have the gall to show your face here in person. I've got half a mind to call for your arrest.”
“I suppose your arrest warrant would need to detail your attempt to inhibit a fellow commodore from carrying out the request of a Vectin minister,” Endellion replied, cold and confident.
“We are not equals in authority.”
“Our titles say otherwise.”
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