Star Marque Vendetta [Chapters 16-18]

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

NEW OFFICER

Although General Lone had mentioned food as a passing comment, he hadn’t meant we’d eat together. No, that was far too beneath him, apparently. Instead, Cai and I got to remain in his plush theater room. We had food brought to us, but we ate without the general.

The food wasn’t bad—the opposite, really. He’d said we’d be eating some sort of genetically engineered desert buffalo. Apparently, those were largeanimals, because I had never heard of them. Space stations didn’t have room for animals that size.

Regardless, whatever the hell a buffalo was, it was also fucking delicious. I practically moaned as I ate the piece of steak that Helia had served me. She giggled as she watched me consume everything, to the point I thought she might have had voyeuristic oral fixation.

Sawyer was somewhat a voyeur as well…

I watched Helia with a bit of fascination.

“Were the cookies good?” she asked.

I nodded once. “Yeah. I didn’t like the thought of eating koi fish, though.”

“Oh.” Helia’s expression dropped for a moment, then she artificially returned it to her force-happy attitude. “I apologize. I’ll make sure I make them different shapes for your next visit.”

I shook my head. “Don’t. I like them. I just like the fish more.” Then I leaned back on the couch and smiled. I wanted to say something more to her, but I couldn’t find the words. What would Sawyer had asked her?

“You’re staring,” Helia whispered as she cuddled close to me on the couch. She poked at the empty plate on my lap. “General Lone said that if you were fascinated with me, I should take you to the pool room and make sure you had a wonderful experience here.”

She said everything with a sheepish smile and hesitation.

I didn’t like it.

Thoughts of Sawyer continued to rattle around my skull.

Cai sat across the room on his own couch, practically orgasming every time he took another bite of his meal. He wasn’t even concerned with us. I could probably leave and enjoy a dip in the pool, but…

I leaned in closer to Helia. A part of me wanted to ask her if she was in danger, but I knew that wouldn’t get me anywhere. Even if this place was a dead zone, there were eyes all around us. She couldn’t say she was in distress. She couldn’t ask for help.

But perhaps I could still get answers.

In a gruff whisper, I asked, “Lone wants me to have a good time?”

Helia nodded against my shoulder. “Anything you want, I’m to provide it.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure Lone wouldn’t want me damaging his property.”

She tensed, but the tone of her voice never changed. With a soft touch of her fingers across the back of my hand, Helia said, “The villa can easily be repaired.”

“I wasn’t talking about the building.”

A short period of silence stretched between us. I didn’t mean it—I wasn’t a sadist—but if she thought I was, I knew she’d be willing to answer a few more questions. Helia eventually replied with, “General Lone has the best healing vats on all of Vectin-10.”

That explained why Helia didn’t have any scars. Even if she was being torn apart every night, so long as she was dipped in mother-cell fluid, she’d be good to go again. The thought sickened me.

“You used healing vats before?” I asked, trying my damnedest to conceal my anger. “Perhaps the general and I have similar tastes, then.”

“It has been my experience that all powerful individuals have similar tastes to General Lone.” Helia said everything with a sultry and alluring tone. When she smiled, though, it wasn’t genuine. I had known Sawyer enough to recognize the signs. “Perhaps there’s something intoxicating about blood and control.”

All individuals? More than just Lone?

Did that freak just loan out Helia like a vehicle people could use for a quick ride? Was that what he had done to Sawyer as well? Every detail of this encounter added to my building rage.

“I don’t think you’ve ever been with someone like me before,” I said, unable to keep some of the hate from my voice. It made me sound like a psychopath, but I supposed that was what I was going for. “I might break a bone or two.”

Helia shivered and then shook her head. “You needn’t worry. General Lone designed me without the ability to feel the worst of pains. I won’t… I won’t lose consciousness or fall into shock.”

I stood from the couch.

Helia flinched back, her eyes wide.

Cai stopped mid-chew. Once he got a good look at my face, he also stood. With all the grit of street kid, he spit his masticated meat onto the floor.

“What is it?” Cai asked.

“I need to speak to General Lone,” I said as I headed to the door, my vision practically tunneling. The urge to rip somebody apart was overwhelming. I didn’t care about Helia—I barely knew her—but she looked so much like Sawyer. All I could think about was her.

And all her scars.

I slammed my way out of the theater room and strode down the long corridor, my body practically operating on autopilot. What the fuck would I say to that monster? Could I kill him in a straight fight—in his own home—without my weapons?

Probably not.

Superhumans were stronger and faster than any human, even genetically-engineered humans, like me. I’d be at a terrible disadvantage.

And if I lost, I’d never get my revenge against Endellion. That fact alone chilled some of my anger. So, what was my alternate plan? Dick-punch this lunatic and steal Helia? That would still result in me being banned from this section of space.

It made me wonder how Endellion had gotten away with recuing Sawyer…

Cai jogged to catch up to me, then he matched my gait and snorted. “What’re you doing? The food give you a stomach ache or something?”

“I just need to clear a few things up with him,” I said, my words heated and terse.

“Did that girl tell you something shocking or what? You two were whispering for a long-ass time.”

“Forget about it. I’ll handle everything.”

“You’re not normally this cold,” Cai said as he gave me the once-over.

I forced a smirk. “You’re not normally this inquisitive. Unusual circumstances require unusual responses.”

Although I didn’t know exactly where Lone was, I listened for voices and echoes. When I heard something beyond the corridor, I headed for it. We entered the main room, and then passed through without incident. I headed for another hall, and then slammed through another door, irritated this place didn’t have automatic opening mechanisms.

For some forsaken reason, it was “fancier” to have compounds and buildings with antiquated building design. This was a “classical abode” complete with round handles on the doors and visible hinges.

I hated it.

Without seeing much of my surroundings, I entered another room and then came to an abrupt halt. Cai practically ran into my arm, but he narrowly sidestepped and then glanced around.

An underground greenhouse.

Plants of all shapes and sizes were arranged in a park-like fashion, complete with a beautiful stone walkway and cushioned benches for sitting and enjoying the scene. I inhaled deeply to absorb the fragrance of the many flowers, tiny pine trees, and leafy ferns. The place looked like it had been finished yesterday—immaculate and well cared for. There wasn’t a single leaf on the ground, or a bunch that hadn’t been trimmed.

How did this oasis exist under a desert?

Thankfully, General Lone was here.

And so was someone else. That precious little girl, Victtra Barten. She wore the same high-tech enviro-suit and stood next to Lone with a sense of belonging and purpose. Although I thought she was tall, she didn’t compare to Lone’s three meters.

Her silvery hair matched his, though. They looked like they had been cut from the same cloth, but I knew that wasn’t the case. All superhumans had bizarre surnames. They weren’t descended from any humans—the first superhumans had been created in test tubes in some lab hundreds of years ago. The first batch that had lived had each been named after the test tube they had emerged from.

The superhumans with the last name Lone were from test tube one. The number was in their name.

Victtra had obviously descended from the superhumans who had emerged from the tenth test tube.

Separate families.

They all still looked like, though. Same two-toned skin. Same weird hair stylings. Same freakish size, growth, and intelligence.

“If it isn’t Captain Demarco,” General Lone said before I could open my mouth. “What perfect timing. Come. I have one last thing to discuss with you.” He beckoned me with a wave of his hand.

The plants in the room did wonders on my rage. Although I still felt the sting of anger on the edge of my thoughts, I managed to calmly cross the greenhouse. Cai shadowed me the entire way, his movements more tense and awkward than my own. I wanted to touch the nearby plants as I walked by—plants were rarely seen on my “hometown” of Capital Station. They were almost magical in my mind.

General Lone didn’t waste any time. The moment I got close, he said, “Victtra told me of your command style. She was impressed with how you handled the rebellion.”

Impressed? The information caught me off guard. I figured she would’ve bad-mouthed me the entire time.

“That’s nice,” I said, far more sarcastic than I should’ve been. “I’m glad she enjoyed her time on my starship. I don’t normally take passengers.”

“She wasn’t keen on how you handled the law, however.”

The law?

“I’m going to interrogate the rebellion leaders you captured,” Victtra said matter-of-factly. “I told you there were loopholes that would allow me to investigate them. I’m rather disappointed in your overall knowledge of the legal system.”

Every word she said cut into my confidence. What if those rebellion officers knew that Endellion had stolen their starships and enviro-suits? Then Victtra would know for sure that someone had impersonated them during the assassination.

I shot her a sidelong glance and Victtra replied with a smirk.

Something told me this wasn’t going to end well.

Before Lone could get into some other topic, I interjected with, “Listen, I know we already discussed compensation for my work.” I kept everything vague, just in case Victtra wasn’t in on plan. “But I don’t just want credits and resources. I want something else. Something specific.”

“Is that right?” Lone drawled, the corner of his lips curling upward into some sadist grin he just couldn’t hide. “I’m anxious to hear what you want.”

“Helia,” I stated.

My request seemed to confuse him. For a moment, he just regarded me with a long stare, as though he thought he heard me wrong.

“The woman I engineered?” Lone finally asked. “You’re that fascinated by her?”

“What can I say?” I grabbed the crotch of my pants and adjusted them. “Clearly, I’m ruled by baser instincts. I get obsessed with specific women.”

That wasn’t true—but Lone didn’t know that. All he knew about me was that I wanted to kill Endellion, and I had a “crush” on his clone-servant. I probably didlook like someone with an obsession problem. Better to lean into it than correct him.

“Interesting,” Lone said. “But I prefer to keep my engineer to myself.” Before I could protest, he held up a hand. “But don’t worry. You also have something I want, and perhaps we can make a trade.”

“A trade?”

Lone motioned to Victtra. She straightened her posture and stared down her nose at me, like she couldn’t wait for the announcement.

“Miss Barten wishes to join the crew of the Star Marque for a short period of time while she investigates the murder of her father. I told her that you would be hunting down rebellion criminals, and she wanted the opportunity to interrogate more of them.”

I was about to launch into an epic tirade against the whole suggestion, but Cai grabbed my arm and dug his fingers into my flesh. I whirled on him, my rage transferring to him in an instant. He didn’t back down. He met my glare with one of his own.

“Think about this,” Cai hissed under his breath.

Even Lysander would be berating me here, I knew it.

When I went to face Lone and Victtra again, I forced myself to take a breath. “I can take her on as a guest, I suppose… But not a member of my crew. We have standards.”

“That’s not acceptable,” Victtra started, cold and precise. “I’m a licensed starfighter, and I know your crew is understaffed.”

“You’rea licensed starfighter?”

Iwasn’t even licensed. I had been taught by members of the Star Marque as a side gig.

“I completed my courses at Starfield University.” Victtra squared her shoulders and held her hands behind her back. “I was second in my class—my scores are higher than any human could possibly hope to achieve. I graduated on the accelerated track, along with the other superhumans. It took us a fourth the time as the normal trainees.”

“This line of work is dangerous.”

“I know the risks. I’m old enough to accept responsibility.”

“Aren’t you young?” I balked, struggling for some reason to deny her. “I thought… you were a superhuman child?”

Victtra waved away my comment. “I may be a child, Captain Demarco, but unlike humans, that isn’t as much of a disadvantage. I’m a member of Homo superior. You see, humans require a lengthy period of time after they’re born for their brains to develop. This process is called synaptic pruning. Human children have excess synapses firing in their brains, which cause them to act out in an immature manner. The older humans get, the less these synapses interfere with their rational thoughts.”

I… didn’t know that.

“But when superhumans were designed, that synaptic pruning was removed from our developmental cycle. Most superhuman children are fully capable of mature thoughts and actions at a very young age. Our brains are mature long before our bodies. It helps us develop skills faster. You’ll find I’m more educated than most human adults.”

General Lone gave me a smile—it seemed charismatic, but I knew better. It was a threat. “A superhuman on your starship will increase efficiency. You’ll take Miss Barten and aid her in any way possible. I doubt this will lead her to a murderer, but I want to support my brethren. If you do this for me, once everything is said and done, I’ll make sure Helia is stationed on the Star Marque for your pleasure.”

“I want her now,” I stated, irritated that these freaks would tell me who I could and couldn’t recruit.

Cai tightened his grip on my arm again. I didn’t care.

“You’re more than welcome to use her while you’re here,” Lone stated, no hint of giving-a-damn in his voice. “But she isn’t to leave the villa. You’re lucky I’m willing to part with her at all—the only way she leaves is if you do as I say.”

There wouldn’t be any arguing with him.

I swallowed hard, burying my pride and anger. When I glanced over at Victtra, it was like she was reveling in her newfound position of power over me. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of complaining. She wanted to be a member of my crew? Fine. I’d stick it out for Helia’s sake.

No one deserved what Sawyer had gone through.

“You’re right, having a superhuman crewmate will be a great boon,” I said with a smirk. “I can’t think of another enforcer ship that can boast that.”

“Perfect,” General Lone said. “Then I’ll assign her as one of your starfighter officers.”

“Officer?” Cai interjected, almost offended.

“Miss Barten wasn’t lying about her accomplishments. And I’ve read over the Star Marque’s crew complements. No one else even compares. It’s only logical she would be given an officer position.”

“But officer pay is much higher,” I said, trying to find that magical loophole.

“The armed forces of Vectin-10 will be picking up the bill.” Then General Lone motioned to the far door. “And as long as you have nothing else, our meeting is over.” He turned on his heel and headed for the opposite end of the greenhouse. “I look forward to reading your reports, Captain Demarco.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

BOUNTY HUNTING

The shuttle ride to the surface was as silent as a well-shaken baby.

Cai sat on his own bench, peaceful and content. But Victtra had an issue. She had positioned herself on the same bench as me, mere centimeters away. She was close enough that I could smell her—the faint musk of pheromones, the kind that were sweet and inciting.

All superhumans had the ability to alter their chemical scents. Hell, even I had it—it was one of the first things genetic engineers had truly mastered. By altering chemicals that excreted from the body, someone could “smell nice” or “smell aggressive.” Most people couldn’t articulate that, though. The scents would just make them react different.

Like smelling freshly grilled meat caused people to get hungry.

But superhumans—and genetically-modified assholes, like me—could detect the difference if they knew what they were looking for.

And for some reason, Victtra had chosen to smell pleasant.

I faced her with a half-smile, and she returned it in kind.

“I’m the captain,” I stated. “What I say goes. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Victtra replied.

“If you disobey even a single command during a firefight, I’ll have you sent straight to brig. I don’t care how smart you think you are. You follow orders.”

Superhumans had tiny holes on their necks—from their ears down to their collarbones. They were like extra little noses. They allowed superhumans to breathe faster and better, and to prevent them from being choked if someone hand a hand around their neck. Extra oxygen in the blood meant they were naturally more athletic and could recover from fatigue easier.

And the little holes flared when they got really angry.

It amused me.

Victtra placed her hands in her lap and then threw some of her metallic hair over her shoulder. “You sound jealous, Captain Demarco. I know it’s easy for you Homo sapiens to look upon your superiors with envy, but I thought a man of your position wouldn’t have that problem.”

“I’m not jealous. I just know your kind gets heads so big, you need a lift to carry them around.”

“We are better than you,” Victtra said matter-of-factly, all ice and no warmth in her voice. “You’d be wise to remember that.”

“Yeah, but the difference between us can be bridged,” I said with a shrug. “I’ve seen it.”

“No human ever really gets the best of us.”

“Is that so?” I leaned back on the bench, anger driving my decisions. “Remind me again—a human killed your father, right?”

Cai must have been listening to the conversation, because he suddenly got up from his bench and moved to the farthest bench away, a good three meters from me and Victtra. What a sad sack. He didn’t even have the balls to face our direction.

I probably shouldn’t have provoked her, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself.

Victtra held her breath for a long moment. When she answered, her voice remained calm, but her scent was laced with anger. “I would kindly ask that you leave my father out of our discussions. He was a dignified emissary for the Federation, cut down before his time.” She hardened her gaze. “Please don’t drag his name into a dick-checking contest. Thank you.”

I admired her ability to restrain herself, but I still didn’t care for her.

“How about you focus on finding your father’s killer, and I’ll focus on finding us rebellion sad sacks?” I turned away from her, done with this. “We don’t really need to interact under any circumstance.”

“I’m your new starfighter officer.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll be taking a lot of bounty hunting requests for the near future, so fighting in our starships won’t be necessary.”

That fact must’ve bother her. Victtra went silent.

I stared at the side of the shuttle, my mind on everything but our current ride to the surface. Could I kill Victtra and get away with it? I hadn’t wanted to eighteen months ago, because she had been an innocent child wrapped up in a war of ambition.

Now she was an obstacle to my goals. That changed things.

It was dangerous being an enforcer—especially on some of the space stations. It would be easy to kill her and shift the blame. Or maybe seriously injure her, so she had to leave the Star Marque.

Then again… if Victtra were hurt, it’d be on me. They’d have my ass so fast, I wouldn’t have time to ask for lube. Which meant I couldn’t actively do anything about her.

What would Endellion do? She’d have some sort of convoluted plan that would involve the superhumans accidently harming Victtra—or something equally as crazy. How could I do that? How could I have her death be someone else’s fault?

I rubbed my chin and stared intently at the shuttle wall, not even seeing my surroundings.

There would be an opportunity in the future. I would just need to recognize it when it happened.

***

The Star Marque’s conference room made it easy to see the void of space. One wall was completely made of transparent duralumin, like a glass window, but a thousand times sturdier. Even docked to Vectin-10’s space elevator, the window offered a view of the black tide.

I stood at the front of the conference table. All my officers were gathered—including Victtra. She sat on one side, and everyone else had sat on the opposite side, like they wanted to get a good look at her, and this was the only polite way to do so.

Her two bodyguards stood behind her, looming like the thugs they were. Their muscle and weight were impressive—like mine—and while they were physically superior to most in the room, their genetic codes had been altered to make them more obedient by nature.

They wouldn’t leave Victtra’s side unless she wanted them gone.

“You need to send away One and Two,” I said, giving Victtra a sidelong glance. “This is a meeting for officers only.”

Both bodyguards had their enviro-suits on and their helmets up, completely masking their faces. The man closest to me turned his head until my face reflected directly on the visor of his helmet.

“Who are One and Two?” the bodyguard asked, his voice machine-like, filtered by the enviro-suit.

“You, asshole. You’re One.” I pointed to the other guy. “That’s Two.” Then I motioned to the door. “Now get out of here.”

The bodyguards turned their attention to Victtra. They needed her command to leave, it seemed. Just as I had thought.

She nodded once, her movement so precise, it almost looked unnatural. The two genetically-modified men left the room without another word. One of them glanced at me—I think it was Two—but it wasn’t for long, and I couldn’t see his face.

It would make my day if he started a fight. I really wanted to kick someone’s ass.

But I had work to do.

“Everyone, I have to introduce our newest officer.” I motioned to our new superhuman. “This is Victtra Barten. She’s no longer a guest on the ship, but our resident starfighter expert.” Then I gestured across the conference table. “Victtra, this is Dr. Clay, my chief medical officer.”

The man’s narrow face scrunched as he awkwardly forced a smile. “It’s a pleasure to have a member of Homo superior with us. I used to cater to some prominent members of your species before I was employed on the Star Marque.”

Victtra nodded but said nothing.

I briefly wondered if having her species pointed out nonstop bothered her. Probably not. She likely enjoyed it.

I went down the line of seats and motioned to Lysander. “You’ve interacted with my vice-captain enough to know him well, right?”

Again, she nodded.

Then I got to Noah and hesitated. “Yeah, well, Noah is now your vice-starship officer. He’ll be showing you how we operate.”

Noah leaned onto the conference table, his tall and lanky frame similar to Victtra’s young superhuman body. He smiled—probably genuine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Noah said. “I, uh, didn’t do anything famous before the Star Marque. I’ve been part of this crew for a few years now.”

Cai—knowing I was about to introduce him—sat straighter in his chair. “I’m Cai Qi, the ground commander. I’m in charge of training a special squad of bounty hunter types.” He rubbed at the tattoos on his arms. His tank top made it easy to see the details from his wrists all the way to his shoulders. Dragons and plasma guns.

With a sarcastic huff, he said, “And before this prestigious job, I was a bounty hunter. And before that, I helped run a daycare.”

I snorted and laughed. “The kids you kept trapped in a basement didn’t count as daycare.”

“Keep it professional,” Lysander said through his gritted teeth.

“I was just joking, of course.” I rolled my eyes and waved away the comment.

Cai shrugged. “I was tryin’ to say that I helped my mother run this daycare, and at some point, Federation officials got involved, and they demanded my mom work in a specific section of our station, and it happened to be near some Homo superior kids.”

“Very entertaining,” Victtra drawled. “I’ll log that information away for further use in the future, I’m sure.”

She had a bit of sarcasm in her. Maybe we could get along after all.

“And last, but not least, this is my chief cyber operations officer, Sawyer.” I motioned to her, but I knew that wasn’t necessary. Victtra had been giving Sawyer odd looks since we had entered the conference room.

I didn’t blame her.

Sawyer and Helia could be twins.

Genetically, they were twins.

“I see you have a collection going,” Victtra muttered under her breath. Then she offered Sawyer a tight smile. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Sawyer said nothing. She kept her head down, her intent gaze glued to the PAD on her forearm. She typed away on the thin screen like she couldn’t hear a damn thing. I knew better, though.

This was my fault.

We were now neck-deep with General Lone, and we had a superhuman in our midst who wouldn’t hesitate to have us all arrested. This wasn’t my best performance, and Sawyer was irritated.

I’d have to deal with that later, though.

I slammed my hand on the conference table, and everyone flinched. They turned to me and pointed to the computer screens on the table in front of them. Everyone glanced at their individual lists of information.

“Those are the potential bounties in the whole quadrant,” I said. “Most of them are chumps who simply didn’t make it to their court appointments, but some of those assholes are murder-gangsters on the run.”

“Is murder-gangster an official term?” Dr. Clay asked, snide and condescending.

Noah—who probably hadn’t caught the sardonic tone—chimed in with, “Actually, three of these guys are classified as mass murderers, which means they killed more than three people in the same geographical location, at the same time.” He pointed to his screen and highlighted the people at the top. “These ones are classified as serial killers because they killed three or more people at different locations and different times. Technically, you can be charged with gang affiliation and murder so long as—”

“Enough,” Cai said, snapping his fingers like he was trying to get the attention of an untrained dog. Then he pointed to a specific name on the list. “This here. This is the guy we want.”

Everyone glanced to their screens as Cai highlighted it for the group. It was the fourth name on the list—a man by the name of Horas Hines. His crimes were listed as: TToS tampering, three counts of murder, and illegal surveillance.

His bounty was worth a surprising two million credits.

“Why this guy?” I asked.

“You said you wanted to go after rebellion guys, right?” Cai double-tapped Horas’s name and brought up more information on his screen. “See this? He’s one of them.”

“How did you know he was rebellion?”

“That crime—TToS tampering—is when people mess with the Federation mandated codes of a starship.”

Like Sawyer was doing all the time.

It wasn’t a crime until we got caught, right?

“All the rebellion chumps do it,” Cai said with a smirk. “And that surveillance crime means he was probably the fall guy for some sort of rebellion operation. I guarantee.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, these rebellion guys go to a space station in small teams. Maybe three or four. If they’re going to kill someone, they make sure one of them is caught for the crime so the others can escape. The one caught—” Cai used air-quotes, “—makes a break for it while the others get away clean.”

“You’re saying this man is an assassin?” Victtra asked, her voice practically a whisper. “You’re certain?”

Cai nodded once. “I’ve rounded up a dozen of these guys before. I know their tricks.”

I stared at the bounty next to his name. Two million. He was also listed as highly dangerous and elusive. That meant we’d be chasing him for a long while… But maybe Cai’s smarts would help cut down the time.

If he didn’t, this could all be one wild chase through space, though. The rebellion had friends on every space station. Horas could hide from us for a long time, in theory. Only we were on a time crunch, not him.

Victtra scooted to the edge of her seat, her back straight. “I vote we pursue Mr. Hines.”

“It’s not really a voting situation,” I said. “This isn’t a republic. I’m the captain.”

“But you take input from your officers, don’t you?” Victtra glanced over at Cai. “And your ground commander articulated the best course of action, didn’t he?”

The others at the conference table exchanged nervous glances. Well, except Sawyer. She still hadn’t looked up. I doubted she even cared who we went after.

Dr. Clay cleared his throat. “I agree with our new starship officer.”

Of course he did. He wanted to kiss her ass so hard, he was preparing his nose for the eventual brown smears.

“Are there any other people you suggest?” Lysander interjected. He stared at the list, thorough in everything he did. “We could at least pick three and then narrow down our options.”

“No,” Sawyer said. She barely made a noise, but everyone else stopped what they were doing. We turned to face her. Sawyer didn’t even look up from her PAD. “We should go after Horas Hines.”

I walked around the conference table—it was large enough for twenty fools, but we barely had seven. It didn’t take me long to reach Sawyer.

“Why this one?” I asked in a casual volume and tone.

She briefly paused her typing to answer, “Because we won’t have to chase him far. I know he’s here on Vectin-10.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

HORAS HINES

“How do you know he’s here?” I asked.

Sawyer’s cold, almost robotic movements confirmed my suspicions. She hated everything about this mission and case. I didn’t even need to ask.

She replied, “There’s a message in the junk code of space elevator’s main programming. It’s from Horas Hines. He wants a ship off the planet, and he’s asking for assistance.”

“Junk code?” I leaned onto her chair, honestly curious. “What’s that?”

“I don’t think I have enough patience, or crayons, to explain it to you,” she said, curt.

Normally, I wouldn’t fucking take that—but this was Sawyer, and all her quip did was drive home the guilt. Part of me wanted to send General Lone a message and tell him I wouldn’t be part of his operations, but Cai had been right. I couldn’t back out now. Best I just do as he wanted, and get what I needed from him, before angering any more of these “superior humans.”

Noah sat a little straighter in his chair. “Junk code is the part of a program that doesn’t actually do anything.” He answered the question with the enthusiasm of a school kid. “It’s usually left in the program because the programmer wrote the code poorly.”

“Or in this case, intentionally put there,” Sawyer said, tapping at her PAD. “Instead of sending a message the old-fashioned way, someone wrote a message through the space elevator’s coding, and when our ship docks to the space elevator, we can access that part of the code.”

“How has no one caught this?” I asked.

Sawyer shrugged. “Maybe someone has. I just did. I’m sure Horas wants to find some rebellion guys to help him.”

Cai shot out of his seat. “We should go right now.” He hustled around the conference table and headed for the door with a spring in his step. When he noticed no one else had jumped up, he stopped and faced us. “Well? Get your asses movin’. If your engineer is right, that means our target is definitely preparing to leave. We should catch him before he gets off planet.”

It also meant he was on the move. He’d likely have friends by now, or potentially someone who was going to give him a ride.

“Is this how you always conduct your officer meetings?” Victtra asked, her judgmental gaze lingering on Sawyer and then slow-panning over to Cai. “Everyone gets their insults in before rushing out the door?”

I could practically hear Lysander’s teeth grinding.

“This is unorthodox,” Lysander said before I could answer. “We’re usually much more professional.”

Dr. Clay shook his head in sardonic disagreement.

“We need to go.” Cai slammed his hand on the bulkhead of the starship, gaining everyone’s attention. “Traveling anywhere on a planet takes time. We shouldn’t be wasting it on etiquette.”

“Is it really imperative we all jump up right now?” Lysander asked, probably because he wanted to do some sort of “official end” to the meeting.

“I was a bounty hunter for most of my life.” Cai held his hands out like a man begging for a scrap of food. “Do you think a guy with a two million credit bounty on his head is gonna take his sweet ass time gettin’ to a starship?” Then he made some motion like he was mock-slapping Dr. Clay across the face. “Of course not! In order to make money in this line of work, you have to seize opportunities when they come your way. Get up. We’re leaving.”

I pushed away from Sawyer’s chair and walked around the conference table. “He’s right. Let’s get going.”

Our ground team wasn’t really skilled at the moment, but I trusted Lysander and Cai—even if they seemed to hate each other’s guts. To my surprise, Noah jumped up from his seat and hurried over to me.

“Can I join you on the planet?” he asked. “I’d love to help catch this guy.”

I shrugged. “Fine.”

“I’ll join you as well.” Victtra stood from her chair.

I pointed at her. “No. Not you.”

“You’re allowing the other starfighter officer to join you.” She said everything with a hint of anger. “And I assure you, I’m more skilled at locating people. My eyesight is superior, my—”

“And you stick out like a corpse in a nursery.” I gestured to everyone else. “Homo superior don’t go walking around with the rest of us chumps. You’ll get us caught in no time.”

With quick wits, Victtra replied, “Then take one of my bodyguards to the surface. Both of my men are skilled combatants. They’ll be a valuable asset.”

She wanted eyes on our activities. That was the only reason she wanted one of her bodyguards to go with. But what did it matter? I wasn’t about to do anything incriminating. And her goons would come in handy.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll take Two.”

“He has a proper name.”

“I don’t care,” I said as I followed Cai out of the conference room.

***

Our bounty hunting team consisted of five people—me, Noah, Lysander, Cai, and Two. In order to blend in with the workers of Vectin-10, Cai had said we couldn’t wear enviro-suits, which meant we each had casualwear. My cargo pants and tank top had seen better days. Lysander, on the other hand, had creases across most of his outfit, like it had been folded so tight and perfect that the edges could now cut a bitch.

“Your mom teach you how to put away your clothes?” I asked him with a half-smile.

He eyed my clothing. “It’s called discipline, Demarco. You’d be respectable if you could master it.”

The hot wind rushed by, carrying trace amounts of sand. The glittering desert in the far distance hurt my eyes. I held a hand on my forehead, shielding my vision from the oppressive heat. The Vectin star burned with an unrivaled intensity.

I glanced down at the PAD on my left forearm.

Sawyer still hadn’t messaged me. She had left us all the information she had on Horas Hines and then hadn’t said a word afterward. It irritated me.

Thankfully, she had told us Horas would likely be near the storage facilities. From there, Cai was confident he could find our target. He took us straight back to a loading platform connected to a gigantic warehouse. Trucks and mag-lev trains could load and unload goods from the massive dock, and hundreds of workers were busy using the machinery to lift and haul two-ton crates.

Food and supplies, most likely. It had to be.

Cai wandered into the massive warehouse to get information, which left the rest of us to mill about the place. I didn’t like it. We hadn’t told anyone we were enforcers—Cai had gotten us into the storage facility through unknown means. Well, we had walked to the front gates, and then he had spoken to some people, but I still didn’t understand how he had gotten us all inside without many questions.

What secrets did he have? Why not just tell us?

Or perhaps these were tricks of the trade.

Noah walked around with his thumbs hooked on the top of his cargo pants. “Wow. That desert is amazing.” He also shielded his eyes as he stared out beyond the fence on the north side of the facility. “I’ve seen it from space tons of times, but up close, it’s completely different.”

“Stay close,” Lysander said as he grabbed his brother on the shoulder. He yanked him back as an automated scanning bot drove by and examined the crates.

Noah shook off his brother’s hand. “What was that for? The bot would’ve driven around me.”

“Those things scan for defects,” Lysander said under his breath, his eyes narrowed at the robot. “If you’re accidentally scanned… It could cause trouble.”

After a short sigh, Noah rubbed at his upper arm. Then he replied with a single nod before returning his attention to the distant horizon.

It surprised me how often Lysander thought about his status as a ‘defect.’ Did he worry about it all the time? Or just in public? How often had he and his brother been denied service because their genetics marked them as unsuitable?

The thoughts reminded me of Endellion…

No one knew she was a defect.

That was probably her biggest secret of all. If anyone found out—even other humans—they’d be disgusted. Which was a shame. It wasn’t the fault of humans.

It was the fault of our quadrant’s three stars. The radiation from the stars was far worse for humans than the single star we had been born under on our home-world planet. The triple radiation caused birth defects at a hideous rate, most of which were genetic, which meant they’d pass down to children.

I glanced over at Two.

The man returned my hard stare. He was here to rat me out to Victtra.

We… looked a lot alike.

He was tall, muscular, and his skin was a dark tan. His black hair was cut short, and his eyes were quick to pick up any movement.

Genetically modified. Just like me. The first people to alter themselves had done it to prevent the negative effects of radiation. But then humans had decided to make superhumans—far better at resisting genetic mutations and with perfect immunity to solar radiation—and the rest was history.

“What’re you staring at?” Two asked, keeping his voice low.

I ran a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “Trash.”

He tensed, and for half a second, I thought he’d be dumb enough to throw a punch. Then he relaxed and rotated his shoulders, defusing his own anger. “Workin’ for the girl is just a job. We all gotta earn a livin’.”

I didn’t say anything.

That was a good answer, I had to admit.

A group of warehouse workers walked by, each wearing a dark red jumpsuit that marked them as employees of TransSide, some sort of shipping company. They eyed me as they went, their gazes lingering on my outfit.

We probably didn’t have much time before someone threw us out of here.

Normally, I’d be afraid of getting caught—since trespassing could result in jail time—but we were technically enforcers. We carried immunities that would allow us to get away with trespassing, so long as it was in the pursuit of a criminal.

I still didn’t want to deal with the hassle, though.

Noah looked away from the desert. “What’s this Horas guy look like? Do you think he’ll be dressed as one of these workers?”

“Probably,” I muttered.

Then I poked at my PAD and brought up a picture of Horas. The man was whiter than pus, and his blond hair matched his sick complexion. The pink rings under his eyes told me he liked chems. Although he wasn’t smiling in the photo, I would’ve put money down that his teeth were fucked.

He probably used stimulants. They were the only kind of chems that heightened someone’s capabilities, at least for a short period. Those stims could make a man smarter, quicker, tougher—but they wrecked the human body more than unchecked maggots.

Horas probably used some stims to get all his jobs done, and now he was on the run.

Two glanced over and stared at my PAD. Lysander—not to be left out—came around my other side and got another look at the man. Everyone had already seen the picture, but I guessed everyone wanted to see him again.

Cai strode out of the warehouse, wiping at his nose. He squinted his eyes as soon as the hot wind rushed him.

“Demarco,” he called out. “We should check the transport gate.” Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at the other three. “You all should follow one of those scanner bots around. If the little robot skips a box, check it manually. If might’ve been reprogrammed to intentionally miss something.”

Noah jumped to the task like he had been born to it. “Yes, sir! We’re on it.” He turned on his heel and headed for the far crates, his gaze set to the one bot scanning the goods.

“We should regroup here in ten minutes,” Lysander said. “Just to make sure nothing has happened.”

I replied with a nod.

Two gave me another odd glance before heading off with Lysander and Noah. He didn’t talk much, but for some reason, I liked him a lot more without his enviro-suit on. Maybe it was because I was so amazing. Why wouldn’t I love someone like myself?

Cai crossed his arms, his tattoos visibly on display. He watched Lysander go, and then smiled. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want to get paired with that guy, so I figured I should call the shots.”

“I don’t care,” I said with a shrug. “You know what we’re doing down here.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“I remember your work from Capital Station. Every fool I ran with was scared of you.”

For a long moment, Cai didn’t say anything. Then he turned his narrowed eyes on me. “Were you worth a bounty back in the day?”

“Don’t we have to find Horas before he loads his body into a box?” I grabbed Cai by the upper arm and turned him around. “By the transport gate, right?”

After a couple of chuckles, Cai went silent. No more questions. No more looks. We just walked over to the gate in silence. Since Capital Station had exploded on Galvis-4, it wasn’t like anyone would ever remember all of my terrible deeds, but there was always a possibility that some planetside computer would be dug up and my name would be on some list. It was better not to give Cai any terrible ideas.

“You think Horas is going to be in a crate?” I asked.

The transport gate was massive. Trucks the size of small starships drove through the opening, each hauling hundreds of tons. They needed to drive supplies all over Vectin-10. The desert planet didn’t take kindly to those with low amounts of water.

“No,” Cai muttered. “Too many guys die in those things. You wouldn’t believe how often supplies are delayed. And if you’re in there too long, you eventually dehydrate or suffocate or get sick—nasty business. Our guy will be driving the truck. Guaranteed.”

Once we got closer to the gate, I scanned the drivers who went by. Most had tanner skin—too dark for our target—but their uniform-red jumpsuits did make it hard to distinguish one sad sack from the other. How many drivers were here? Thirty? Fifty?

I turned my attention to the men manning the gate. There was a security station behind a wall of transparent aluminum, with at least ten workers staring at computer screens, their gazes half-dead.

But then I saw him.

That pus-white complexion and sickly blond hair were undeniable.

Horas stood in the security station, sipping a drink like he had worked here for decades. Although I was outside the security station—and across the road, on a small walkway meant for truck drivers—my enhanced sight picked up every detail.

I turned around to grab Cai, but I was confronted by a man in a black jumpsuit.

His chest and legs were thicker than the rest of him—which meant he wore body armor—but his half-helmet didn’t quite cover his fat head. The man held a little laser rifle. Plasma had too much of a kick. Lasers were easier to wield for a man of his… physique.

“Excuse me,” Fat-Head said as he gave me the once over. “What’s a dog like you doin’ here?”

Cai glanced over and frowned. “Hey. We’re here with TransSide’s worker union. Leave us alone while we do our assessment.” He held up his arm with the PAD and pointed to the thin screen.

Most of these planet workers didn’t have the funds to buy themselves a fancy PAD. No one here—not all the men in jumpsuits in this entire facility—had one. It was a good disguise, since most government workers were issued PADs, but why hadn’t Cai just revealed our identities now that we knew Horas’s location?

I’d let him make the decisions.

“But do you have a permit on that thing?” Fat-Head asked. Then he motioned to me. “Is this your bodyguard or somethin’? We don’t let these ones loose around here.”

All of us “genetically modified humans” worked for Homo superior. That was the myth, anyway. We were traitors to our kind. No better than scum. I understood—it was the reason I hated Two.

“Back off,” I growled, gaining Fat-Head’s full attention. “We’re busy. Go deal with real problems.”

“If you don’t have a permit, I’m gonna throw you outta here.”

I grabbed the man’s squishy arm and hauled him closer to me. Fat-Head uttered a soft gasp, like he hadn’t expected that at all, and I almost laughed. This man wouldn’t have lasted long on Capital Station.

“Listen—talking to you is killing brain cells so fast, I’ll be dead by the end of this conversation. Take your happy ass out of here and leave us to our work or else things will get rough for you.”

Before he could answer, I shoved the man away.

I hoped he would decide to go get a manager or something. That way, I’d have enough time to grab Horas before any sort of commotion broke out.

Fat-Head hesitated. He held his laser rifle close, like it would protect him. I turned away, unconcerned. He would be sorry if he stayed. His one and only hope of making it home without any broken bones was to leave now.

“Cai,” I said. Then I jerked my head in the direction of our target. “There he is.”

“No kiddin’.” Cai rubbed his hands together and smiled. “Perfect, perfect.” Then he ran his hands down his sides, his smile barely restrained. “This is the most exciting part of the job, kid.”

“Kid?” I balked.

“Everyone younger than me is a kid now.” He shot me a glare, his expression more than serious. “Pay attention. We’re going to surround the security station. I’ll take the left door, you take the right. When we enter, we have to—”

Fat-Head pointed his laser rifle at me. “You two aren’t goin’ anywhere. I’m taking you both into custody.”

I shot him a glower and then glanced back over at Horas. Our pasty target was shuffling between the other workers when he finally lifted his gaze and caught sight of me and Cai. We looked like thugs—I couldn’t deny that—but it must’ve been then way we were staring at him that tipped Horas off.

He shot for the far exit, running far faster than I thought he would.

“We’re going to lose him,” Cai growled under his breath.

Not if I could help it.