Renegade Magic (Star Renegades Book 1)

by Jennifer M. Eaton

  He shook his head and handed her the data pad.

  She sifted through the information before raising her gaze to him. She used a few codes to trace the information back to the source data, and the doctor was correct. The records originated in the archives. “Hacking into the royal record archives is illegal.”

  “I know, but I thought you deserved to know where you came from.”

  None of this seemed right, though. She would have known if she had parents. Then again, she’d never had reason to question. None of the enforcers had parents or families. They had their sponsors. From the very beginning, there had been nothing but Geron. And, of course, Alexander.

  She looked up again. “Is there any record of an adoption of a boy at the same time? About the same age?”

  He blinked back what seemed like surprise at the question. “I was only tracing back your DNA. I can look, though, if you want."

  Would it make a difference? She’d always known Alexander was not her biological brother, but growing up together had made them closer than most enforcers. It didn’t really matter where he’d come from.

  She shook her head and handed the data pad back to the doctor. “I didn’t know any of this, but it makes no difference. The Banes are my family. Prince Geron has always cared for me.”

  “While he mutated your genes and turned you into something unnatural.”

  She shifted, and small aches twinged through her. The doctor said she was getting healthier, but she had to disagree. If this was being human, she wanted none of it. “If he changed me, he made me better.”

  “But for his own purposes. He may have disguised it well, but he took away your individuality.”

  “He made me stronger.”

  “Maybe, but at what cost?”

  Dania wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

  The child on Kirato suffering from scurvy had winced in pain. She would have died if Dania hadn’t intervened. A month ago, Dania may have walked right by the child. Helping innocents was Alexander’s programming, not hers.

  A chill ran over her. Alexander’s programming. She’d always known she’d been programmed to lead Geron’s enforcers. She’d been programmed to punish the lawbreakers. She’d been programmed to kill.

  She’d always had trouble understanding Alexander’s sometimes inefficient need to help others, but it was programming, so she’d needed to accept that.

  She’d never thought about what programming meant. They’d said it was what helped her to be everything Prince Geron needed.

  Yes, he’d made her stronger, but had he also erased the part of her that maybe wanted to be a little more like Alexander?

  Another child’s face popped into her mind. Dirty, cherub cheeks stained with tears as Dania grasped his wrist, yanking him into the air—and the screams of his mother as she cried for mercy while the other enforcers held the woman back.

  Miguel had ended up executing the mother as well for trying to intervene. Her bloody, broken body had fallen atop that of her son, a reminder to the rest of their colony what happened when you broke the king’s law.

  But what had that child done?

  The crime melted into hundreds of others, all dealt with by exacting the only punishment sanctioned by the king. Once a criminal, always a criminal. The only way to make the galaxy a better place was to eliminate the source of crime.

  But hadn’t the crew of this ship made the galaxy a better place with the spoils of their crimes?

  Her ears rang. None of this was right. Nothing made sense. These people were confusing her.

  She pressed her temples between her palms.

  The ringing heightened, tearing through her skull.

  This was all wrong. The doctor had done something to her. She needed to execute them all and get back to her prince. If there was something wrong with her, he was the only one who could fix her.

  “Dania?” Alanna rubbed her back.

  Warmth spread through her as the woman’s voice pushed away the confused thoughts.

  The tenacity in Dania’s shoulders waned. Her blood still tingled, but her body calmed, as if finding safety for the first time in her life.

  She tried to push it away. She was anything but safe. Yet her body was hard to convince.

  The doctor shined a light in Dania’s eyes. “If your head is bothering you, I can give you a local pain reliever, but at this point, I need to clear you. From a medical standpoint, there isn’t anything wrong. You were overrun with pathogens, but your body is fighting them off.”

  His cheek twitched, and Dania couldn’t discern if he thought that was a good or a bad thing.

  Dania hugged her shoulders. “Are you saying I am all right? How can that be true?”

  “I think you’re feeling normal, human things that maybe you’ve never had the capacity to feel before. From what I can tell, your hair and your eyes are returning to their original pre-pathogen color. I really think the silvery coloring was the result of exposure to something.”

  “Exposure? I have not been exposed to radiation or anything like that, if this is what you’re insinuating.”

  “No, but you have been exposed to the Banes. They’re an alien race, and the power they wield makes enforcers look like second-rate magicians. It’s possible that just being around them affected you in ways human medicine can’t explain.”

  So, there was hope for her, then. “This means that my hair will go back to normal when I get home, and that these uncomfortable feelings and pains will go away when I get back to where I belong?”

  He looked away. “Well, yes, but I think that maybe you should take into consideration that you never belonged there in the first place.” He held his palm out to the door. “Anyway, for now you’re free to go.”

  Dania balked. “I am?”

  “Absolutely. The captain thinks you acted admirably today, and he asked me to invite you to our crew dinner tonight.”

  Dania narrowed her eyes. “Is that a euphemism for something?”

  “Only if you mean good company, fun conversation, and delicious homemade food.”

  Dania rubbed her hands across the tops of her legs. Alanna had been bringing her food to whatever place Espinoza had decided to chain her up at any given time. She’d never expected to be invited to join them for a meal.

  Alanna nudged her shoulder. “You should come. It will be fun. Everyone can get a chance to know you like I have.”

  Get to know her? Had she gotten to know Alanna between promises of granting her a quick death when the time came?

  Alanna smiled at her, and there was no animosity there, no slight change in body temperature to show that she was lying.

  Odd, how something as simple as a smile could put her at ease. Everything about these people was a surprise. A conundrum she couldn’t decipher. They should hate her, yet they’d invited her to join them for what sounded like their personal bonding time.

  Even odder…Dania wanted to attend.

  She trembled at the sign of weakness, then pushed the feeling away. Kinship wasn’t a bad thing. No one ever tried to stop her and Alexander from being close. Of course, Alexander wasn't a criminal.

  Dania rubbed her hands together and grimaced as grit balled up on her palms. Odd that she cared more about the dirt on her hands than the crimes of the people surrounding her. “I’ll need to wash up first.”

  “Sure.” Alanna jumped off the edge of the cot. “You can come to my room.”

  Alanna talked about the ship as they walked through the hallways—what modifications they had made and explaining some of the dark, burnt patches Dania had noticed earlier. In two instances, they’d been caused by the engineer, Ethan, experimenting with substances that had exploded. In the third case, the charred mark actually was the result of a firefight when they’d been boarded illegally on a trading run.

  Again, there was no change in Alanna’s temperature. She was telling the truth like someone with nothing to hide.

  Maybe it was because she actu
ally didn’t have anything to hide?

  Inside Alanna’s living compartment, the navigator stayed in her main chamber, reviewing star charts while Dania stepped into the shower. The warm streaming water eased over her skin, oddly soothing after cleansing in decontamination stalls all of her life.

  She stepped out of the chamber and looked back as a few drops fell from the faucet and splashed to the floor. What other luxuries did humanity have that had been hidden from her all this time?

  The water streamed down her hair and shoulders, puddling beneath her feet. She couldn’t recall being wet before. Kever sanitization facilities contained fine particles of sand, not water.

  A slight chill touched her skin as she walked into the main chamber, her feet slapping against the tiles.

  Alanna’s eyes widened. “You-You’re naked.”

  Dania looked down at her body. “Was I supposed to shower clothed? Would the water have washed my uniform as well?”

  “No.” Alanna laughed, grabbing a thick, white bundle of cloth from a panel in the wall. “Here, dry off with this.”

  Dania stared at the rough fabric.

  Alanna cocked her head. “Have you never used a towel before?”

  Dania shook her head.

  Her smile was sad, but sweet. “It’s okay. It helps you to dry off. You rub it all over yourself, and it soaks up the water.” She pointed at the floor. “And be careful. The water might make the floor slippery.”

  Dania dropped the towel to the floor and used a push of her power to rub the fabric over her wet footprints. As Alanna said, the water disappeared into the fabric. Archaic, but effective.

  Smiling, Alanna handed Dania more folded fabric. “I don’t have a recycler, so you can change into these until we get your uniform cleaned. We’re close to the same height, but it will probably be a little loose on you. Some people like clothes loose and comfy like that.

  She was…giving Dania her own clothes?

  “I’m going to jump into the shower.” Alanna grabbed another towel and tossed it to Dania. “Use this one to dry yourself off. I’ll be out in a snap.”

  The towels did a remarkably good job removing the water from her skin. She rubbed her hair over and over, though, and the tresses still hung in thick, wet clumps.

  A slight chill grazed her skin, and Dania eased into the clothing Alanna had given her: a thick, brown jumpsuit that hugged her thighs but hung loose around her chest. The fabric was lighter than her uniform, yet warm.

  Alanna returned. “Hey, it looks good.”

  The woman was already dressed. Dania was happy to see her hair was wet as well.

  Alanna took a small canister from a shelf and sprayed a fluffy, white substance into her hands before working the material into her hair. “Do you want some product?”

  Dania stared at her. The woman held out the canister like Dania would know what product was. Her stomach clenched again. This was another world…so many things that seemed so simple to Alanna, so normal.

  Her cheeks heated, and she looked away.

  Alanna walked up. “Hey, it’s okay. Look.” She sprayed the canister into her palm again, rubbed her hands together, and then smoothed them through Dania’s hair. “This keeps your hair from getting frizzy and makes it lay nice after you extract the water.”

  “Extract the water?”

  “Sure. Come here.” She tugged Dania to the corner. “Stand still.”

  She pressed a button on the wall, and they were both basked in red light and heat. Alanna’s hair lifted. A fog drifted up from her hair, and when the lights winked out, her chin-length tresses hung neatly around her face.

  Alanna laughed. “You look so stunned.”

  The woman pointed to a mirror. Dania’s own hair hung in well-ordered waves hanging over her shoulders. Her hair was that odd, creamy tan color, and it seemed strange that it hung without moving, but it looked appealing, like some of the well-dressed merchant women she’d seen walking through space stations.

  Dania had never really thought of her appearance. She simply wore her uniform every day, and her hair shifted into whatever form it wanted at will. She warmed, knowing that she could decide what her hair looked like now.

  Smoothing her palm over her stomach, she smiled. The brown coloration in her jumpsuit was oddly comforting after wearing the pearlescent white all her life. The warmth inside her spread…an odd, but agreeable sensation.

  She turned to Alanna. “Thank you.”

  “You got it. Ready for dinner?”

  She nodded, and they headed out.

  A small flutter alighted in Dania’s chest. She’d had many group meals before with her enforcers. They discussed battle tactics and special orders from their prince. A meal without an agenda was something new, and she quickened her pace, wondering what might be discussed.

  Again, Alanna gave an explanation for the nicks and pocks in the walls, and the replaced panels in different parts of the ship. They’d certainly done a lot of maintenance on the vessel.

  Alanna’s presence, and even her voice, was oddly soothing. It reminded Dania of carefree conversations with Alexander, but this felt more like kinship, like being in someone’s company simply because their presence pleased you, rather than the close proximity of being sponsored by the same prince. It was a peculiar feeling, but a nice one.

  Dania slowed her gait. She shouldn’t get used to this. There was no point. No matter what the doctor tried to make Dania believe, there was something wrong with her. The only way to truly heal and renew her strength was to reunite with her prince.

  “We’re like one big family here,” Alanna said, finishing a thought that Dania had missed.

  Her heart clenched. The crew did seem to care for each other.

  It was…nice.

  Dania imagined Prince Geron’s open arms welcoming her back, and she shivered.

  For the first time in her life, she felt like she had something to lose, and she wasn’t sure why.

  27

  Cal

  Cal set a few plates on the large table in the center of his private meeting-space turned dining-room. He hesitated, placing the additional plate next to Alanna’s seat. It had been a long time since they’d had a guest at their table. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined himself serving an enforcer.

  What would his dad have thought? His mom?

  He looked at the portrait of the three of them hanging on the wall beside the kitchen door. He’d been twelve years old when the picture had been taken, and they’d just come back from a trip to the ship design expo. A few weeks later, his dad was dead.

  Cal rubbed his eyes as a slight ache developed over his brow. So much for his pledge to keep a million miles between himself and the enforcers.

  Ethan paced the far wall, rubbing his chin. “I’m still on board with trying to convince the enforcer we’re all innocent. You know I’ve always been on board with that. But letting her walk around free? That’s just asking for punishment.” He stopped and looked at Cal. “What if she went down to the storage lockers and started poking around?”

  Ty leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the end of the table. “Then we just better make sure she doesn’t poke around.”

  “I’m serious,” Ethan said.

  “So am I.”

  Cal pushed Ty’s feet off the table. “Do you mind? People are going to eat here.”

  The doors split open, and Doc walked in. “I guess I’m not late.” He looked at each of them. “Did I miss something?”

  “Ethan’s afraid the enforcer might snoop around and find something.”

  Doc walked across the room. “If she snoops around, it wouldn’t take her long to find any number of things that could get us all killed.” He opened a drawer and grabbed a few handfuls of silverware. “We all knew the risks of bringing her on board.”

  “I get that.” Ethan held out his hands. “But I thought we were dumping her on Kirato.”

  Cal set a glass on the table. “We need to s
tart showing her the same charity that we show the colonists, or anyone else we share our spoils with. One dinner won’t hurt us.” At least, he hoped it wouldn’t.

  “I agree,” Doc said. “If anything, it will give us a chance to find out a little more about her. If we can get her to let her guard down, that is.”

  Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’m getting cold feet. I’m a little fond of breathing.”

  Cal bit back a smile. A few years ago, back when the Star Renegade still only had a crew of two, Ty had won a game of poker against Ethan. When Ethan couldn’t ante up, he’d offered to fix their hydrogen converter to pay off his debt. Cal had never been one to pass up a free maintenance job, so Ethan had gotten to work.

  But when someone else showed up wanting to collect from Ethan, they hadn’t been as interested in Ethan working off his gambling losses. When it became obvious that they’d been ready to take their spoils out of the engineer’s hide, Ethan had pleaded for help, saying the exact phrase, “I’m a little fond of breathing.”

  Of course, at the time, Cal and Ty were more worried about themselves than a loser who couldn’t pay off his debts. Still, they’d had to take off—with Ethan still on board—before they got holes punched in the side of their ship for something they hadn’t even done.

  It hadn’t all been bad. The guy ended up being a competent engineer. He’d become an important part of their crew, and despite following Ty around no matter how insane some of his ideas were—like trying to convince an enforcer they were all innocent—the guy did normally have a respectable desire to keep breathing, so Cal understood his hesitation.

  Dania was still a big unknown, no matter how human she’d become. In this case, caution wasn’t a sign of weakness. Ethan was being smart for a change. Which was strange, since Cal had suddenly become reckless.

  He knew, deep down, that Ethan was probably right, and they should have left her on Kirato. That had been their best, and maybe only, chance of escape. But the stakes seemed so much higher now. Like it could really all be worth the risk.

  Cal glanced up to the picture on the wall.