by Rachel Aukes
Noise erupted down the hallway. Everyone tensed until Reyne saw that it was the Tulan Port security forces. Reyne pointed to Simon. “Arrest him, Simon Tate, for the attempted murder of me and my flight crew, along with, uh, Betts, there on the floor.”
Simon chuckled. “You won’t be able to hold me. And, as soon as I’m out, I’ll have the paperwork I need to take immediate custody of Lily Wintsel.”
“The hell you say,” Sixx said at the same time Bree said, “Never.”
Simon sneered. “Oh, yes. While I’d be doing the Collective a favor by eliminating the worlds of that criminal,” he pointed at Sixx, “even more important, I’ll make sure that he doesn’t have custody of a citizen’s child.” He lifted his chin. “Axos left me as Lily’s legal guardian, and I will see to it that his last will and testament is fulfilled.”
“You will never take Lily,” Bree gritted out. “She has a home and a family who loves her.”
Simon narrowed his gaze at Bree as his hands were banded behind his back. “You look familiar. Have we met?” A smile formed as recognition hit him. “Oh, yes. You worked for Axos. I had you one night.”
“Watch how you talk to her,” Sixx growled out, “or else I’ll put a hole right between your eyes.”
“Ah, you must care for her.” Simon turned to Sixx, and his grin widened. “Tell me, how does it make you feel that she’s serviced half of the Collective?”
“Sixx, don’t let him goad you,” Reyne cautioned. “He’s going to jail. We’ll see him face justice for what he’s done.”
Simon laughed. “You’re foolish if you think the Collective doesn’t have the real power around here.” He turned to Sixx. “As for justice, whose side do you think they’ll take? Lily’s rightful guardian, who’s a highly respected businessman, or a thief and a whore?”
Reyne noticed that the only thing keeping Sixx from lunging forward was that he still bore much of Boden’s weight.
Sixx glared. “You just try to take Lily. You’ll see the full extent of what I’m capable of then.”
Fourteen
Loose Strings
On board the Littorio, near Myr
Critch woke up with a headache worse than any hangover had ever given him. He opened his eyes, only to snap them closed due to the bright lights. The brightness hit him from every direction: above, below, and even the walls. There was only one place Critch knew to have 360-lights in all-white rooms—a prison cell on a CUF ship. He knew because he’d been in ones exactly like this on more than one occasion.
“Well, shit,” he muttered, and rubbed his forehead with his hand. When the assassin had caught him, he’d assumed he was going to die…though he guessed he probably still was, since he was in a cell.
His wrist comm had been removed, as was done for any prisoner. He felt for his weapons and found nothing, as expected. His captors had even found the blade in the sole of his boot, leaving Critch both impressed with their diligence and disappointed at losing some of his best tools.
At least they’d left him with his clothes and boots.
A window in the door opened, and Critch looked, wincing in the light, to see Corps General Barrett Anders. “Ah, so you’re Mason now? Couldn’t come up with your own secret name?”
Anders ignored the comment. “Drake Fender, you’ve topped the CUF’s most-wanted list for twenty years. That’s quite the record, by the way. You had to figure that you’d get caught sometime.”
Critch shrugged. “Evading the CUF hasn’t exactly been challenging.”
“Yet here you are, in my cell.”
“That’s because you cheated and hired an assassin.”
Anders laughed. “A pirate accusing me of cheating. That’s rich.”
“Why’d you pick me up, Anders? Things getting a little dull around the Collective without colonists to push around?”
“On the contrary, things are rather exciting lately. You’ve been a loose string I’ve been meaning to pull for a long while. I’m running a bit short on time, and you’re one criminal I don’t plan to leave behind.”
“Aw, let me guess. You’ve got some nasty disease that even Collective medicine can’t help with. You’ve got a few months left to live, so now you’re getting all nostalgic? Damn, if I’m not getting a little weepy.”
The officer’s lips curled upward. “Get weepy for yourself. This time next week, you’ll be publicly executed for war crimes and piracy, though I care little about the piracy.”
“War crimes? You mean, like when you bombed Tulan Base, where all the refugees were, and killed Vym Patel in the process?” Critch countered.
Anders sobered. “We all make hard choices in war, but some choices cross a line. You’re being executed specifically for committing bioterrorism against the Unity, killing all 466 crew members on board as well as eighteen crew members on board the patrol ships sent in to investigate.”
Critch chortled. “You’re executing me for using the blight? How about Gabriel Heid and Michel Ausyar dropping the blight on Sol Base? They killed over seventy thousand colonists, and it wasn’t even in a time of war.”
“They’re both dead and cannot be tried for their crimes.”
“Ah, so I’m your scapegoat. You really think killing me will help you sleep at night?”
Anders shook his head. “No. But when I look at all those who pose a risk to the Collective, you’re always at the top of the list. Your death will help a lot of citizens sleep better, and that makes the hassle of dealing with you worth it to me.”
Critch leaned back. “I’m not saying I don’t deserve to die, but I warn you that I’m a loose string that will cause a hell of an unravel in relations between the Alliance and the Collective. What do you think the colonists will do when they see the Collective coming after the torrent leaders who fought for their independence? Things are fragile. Killing me will shatter relations.”
Anders raised his brows. “I think you greatly overestimate your importance to the Alliance.”
“It’s not me, personally. Hell, I never wanted the attention. But they’ve built me up into something bigger than life—Drake Fender and Aramis Reyne embody the torrent spirit.” Critch paused. “Don’t tell me, you’re going after Reyne, too.”
“Worry about yourself. After all, you’re the one dying soon.”
The window closed, leaving Critch alone in the bright cell.
Anders was a purist—Critch hated that type of person because they were impossible to bribe or sway. He had no doubt he was scheduled to be publicly executed, and there was no way to get out of it.
That left escape as his only option, but the list of challenges was awfully long. He had no idea where the Honorless was. He had no crew to come for him; hell, no one even knew where he was.
He frowned and thought for a moment. He had an idea. It was a long shot, like hitting-a-target-in-another-galaxy long shot, but it was also his only shot. He felt around on his right forearm, searching for the rice-sized tracker Seda Faulk had implanted to track him when he infiltrated the Citadel prison.
When he found the bump, he squeezed it until he felt it pop. If the thing still worked, it should now be shooting off a signal to Seda’s wrist comm. If—and that was an even bigger if—Seda still had Critch’s tracker programmed into his comm, then Critch’s future would be in Seda’s hands.
If Critch were a religious man, he’d pray. Instead, he began to brainstorm ways to get out of the damned cell.
Fifteen
Vacation Getaway
Tulan Port, Playa
Four hours.
That was how long Simon Tate stayed in jail before Hadley showed up with papers from Legacy Star showing Simon’s diplomatic immunity. Reyne couldn’t say he was surprised. Wealthy citizens had always found ways to weasel around justice. He’d just hoped that it would’ve taken Simon Tate a bit longer to work the system.
Hadley shook her head. “I’m sorry. I absolutely believe Simon should face consequences for what he’s done, but i
t’s out of my hands. Legacy Star considers any public disgrace directed at one of their staff as a public disgrace to them. I suspect I have just choked my own career with them by not sequestering Simon away from security forces.”
“They shouldn’t punish you for Simon’s actions.”
She pursed her lips. “You’ve not spent much time in a corporation, have you?”
“Not a single day.”
“You’re fortunate.” She glanced down at the papers and held them out toward him. “I suppose you should have these.”
Reyne eyed them. “As soon as you hand those to me, I’m required by law to give those to the authorities.”
She shrugged. “I assume that is the case.”
He cocked his head. “Would you help if you could?”
“Of course.”
“Then hold on to those papers for thirty minutes, at which time you can bring them back to my office.”
“How will that help?”
“Just trust me.”
She eyed him for a moment before she tucked the papers into her jacket. “Okay.” She turned to leave his office, then paused, looking at him again. “I wasn’t involved in Simon’s schemes, though I should’ve known something was up. Even though he had nothing to do with the war, it changed him. He became short-tempered and distant. Looking back, I suppose it all happened when his good friend died. I wish I would’ve figured it out before your friend and Betts were hurt. We’re so lucky no one died as a result of his actions. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
She turned to leave.
“Hadley?”
She stopped and looked back at him.
“Would you like to go out sometime?”
She pursed her lips, fighting a smile that won, anyway. “I’d like that.” She turned to go.
He grinned and watched her leave. After she was gone, his smile faded, and he tapped his wrist comm. “I’m on my way. Are we all set?”
“We’re ready,” returned Sixx’s voice.
Reyne hustled from the stationhouse and directly to the private docks where the Gryphon waited. He jogged up the ramp, even though his arthritic joints were aching from the bot attack the night before. As soon as he was on board, he closed the door and headed straight for the bridge.
Sixx jumped up from the captain’s seat as soon as Reyne entered the bridge. “Flightplan’s booked, and we’ve got clearance from dock control.”
“Good,” Reyne said as he took the pilot’s seat. He’d piloted the Gryphon the first fifteen years, but then he’d turned the controls over to Throttle to build her skills. She’d quickly acclimated to the controls and within five years had exceeded Reyne’s skill. She’d always been a natural when it came to piloting a ship. He wondered if she was still alive.
“You okay, boss?”
“Yeah. Just appreciating being back with the old girl again.” He switched focus to the instruments. He powered up the nav engines and ran system checks. He tapped Boden’s comm. “Everything’s showing green up here. How’s it look back there?”
“Everything’s green, but the right nav engine is within a few hundred hours of needing an overhaul.”
“She has a few trips left in her then.” Reyne glanced over at Sixx. “Lily?”
“Bree’s with her in her bunk.”
“Good.” He then transmitted to the ship. “Buckle in everyone. We’re taking off momentarily for a nice little vacation getaway to Nova Colony.”
After one final glance over the system checks, Reyne transmitted to Tulan Port’s dockmaster. “Dock Control, this is Phantom cruiser Playa-Seven-Five-Five-One-Bravo. Ready for departure.”
“Phantom cruiser Five-One-Bravo. You are cleared for immediate launch from launchpad Charlie Zero Four. Control has been transferred to you. Have a nice flight.”
“Thank you, Dock Control. Have a good day.” He applied power to the engines and tapped the launchpad release. With a roaring rumble, the Gryphon shot upward from the tube and into Playa’s atmosphere. The ship rocked as it climbed through the air and smoothed out as soon as it broke through and entered the black.
He glanced at the instruments and noticed the time. Hadley would be returning to his office, and instead of finding Reyne, she’d meet his assistant, who would tell her that he was now on a business trip for at least a week. He hoped Hadley would understand.
Reyne knew that the moment they returned, Simon Tate would be marching straight into his office with a court order granting him custody of Lily. He could only hope he’d have something figured out by then.
The three-day flight to Nova Colony was uneventful, which felt strange after being hunted for so long. Nova Colony, a large asteroid within the Space Coast asteroid belt, always required the pilot’s focus to navigate, and Reyne found himself enjoying a little back-to-basics flying.
By the time they docked and passed through the airlock, Seda Faulk was waiting for them.
“You’re the last to arrive,” Seda said. “I heard you’ve been giving Legacy Star a bit of trouble.”
Reyne grunted. “If surviving assassination attempts is giving them trouble, then sure.”
They smiled then, and clasped each other’s forearms in the standard colonist greeting.
“That sounds exactly like the Legacy Star I’m familiar with,” Seda said. Upon seeing the young girl, he bent down. “We haven’t met before. Are you on Reyne’s crew?”
“Yup!” She smiled. “I’m Lily Sixx, and I’m Uncle Aramis’s computer expert.”
“Really? That’s a tough job, I bet.”
She blew out a breath. “It is. I don’t get paid enough.”
Seda smirked and returned to full height. He held out a key to Sixx. “It’s an apartment on level G. It’s under the name of one of my corporations, so no one should track you to it.”
“Thanks,” Sixx said. “Hopefully we won’t need it very long.”
“It’s yours as long as you need it.”
Seda embraced Bree. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise,” she said.
Seda turned back to Reyne. “Is that your entire crew?”
“Boden’s taking care of post-flight checks. And you already know about Throttle…”
“How’s the trip going?”
“Good,” Reyne answered too quickly.
Seda eyed him. “I see. Well, make yourself comfortable. The meeting starts in two hours.”
Sixteen
Death by Committee
Nova Colony, within the Space Coast asteroid belt
Reyne sat at the large table in Critch’s office on Nova Colony. Critch was still out searching for the Honorless, leaving Nova Colony and his home in Seda’s hands. Reyne suspected Critch wouldn’t be gone for long—Reyne had heard that Seda had quickly grown accustomed to Critch’s accommodations, which would no doubt irritate Critch. Seven people sat around the table, including the other stationmasters: Joe Thomas of Rebus Station, Hatha Satine of Sol Base, and Margerite Dubois of Devil Town. Hari, of course, sat next to Seda as his ever-present second-in-command. Shauna Fields filled the last chair. Reyne had met her during the war when she was a conscript on a CUF ship. She’d quickly developed a reputation as a capable leader, and he’d heard her speak on several calls with the other stationmasters.
“Thank you for joining me in person. I know how much it takes for you to make the journey,” Seda began. “It’s been several months since we’ve had an onsite meeting, as we’ve all been incredibly busy getting the Alliance of Free Colonies off the ground. We have an offer from a group of private investors in the Collective that can help us with the one thing we all desperately need more of, and that’s money.”
Hatha held up a finger. “I’ll stop you there, Seda. While I agree we’re all currently bootstrapped, I thought we all agreed that we’d be developing Alliance currency so that we’re no longer dependent on Collective currency.”
“And I’m not inferring that we break from that strateg
y. The proposal I’ve received will help build up our economic strength. The Alliance currency, once we develop it, will be more comparable in value to that of the Collective’s.”
“What’s the proposal, Seda?” Joe asked.
“It’s a one-time mass purchase, off the books for all Collective trade, and to be transacted this month. Ten billion credits to each fringe station for the purchase of fuel from Terra, cavote from Darios, blue tea from Spate, and rilon from Playa. Hari is sending you the contractual details to your wrist comms now.”
All four stationmasters reviewed the proposal on their small screens. Reyne’s jaw slackened. He cocked his head at Seda. “Those numbers are higher than any of us have seen before, except for maybe you, and you think the Collective won’t notice?”
“Oh, they’ll notice all right, but as it’s a private deal, they have no say. It’s a huge opportunity for each of your colonies.”
“It’s also a huge demand,” Margerite said. “It’ll wipe out our warehouses. Anyone else with contracts would have to be delayed. We’ll lose money if we have to pay for breaking contracts.”
“Any money you lose will be drops from the bucket of what you’ll make,” Seda said.
“The Collective tariffs will put a dent in our earnings,” Hatha said.
Seda shook his head. “They have attorneys in place to handle the tariffs. Consider them excluded from your transactions.”
Reyne leaned back. “You know, whenever I hear something too good to be true, it usually is. That some mysterious group of private investors jumps in to help us when we need it most seems awfully suspicious.” Reyne frowned when his words brought forth memories and trepidation. “Speaking of mysterious groups, this isn’t connected to the one you were involved in a while back, is it?”