Zenith (5 page)

Xen Ptera was dying.

Nor Solis had known it for years, had witnessed her planet’s pain with her own eyes, but knowing the truth didn’t make facing it any easier.

She felt it in the tainted air she breathed, the sting of pollution scraping its claws against her lungs as she stood on the balcony of the Nyota room, overlooking the once-beautiful remains of her kingdom.

Mechanic noises hummed over the bustling city. From her vantage point, miles above the ground, she could see an unobstructed view of the land. Black plumes of smoke billowed over the grey landscape. Buildings, ranging from a few stories tall to towering miles high, suffocating each other in the claustrophobic capital, Nivia.

Flowers ceased to bloom and water was now a dream. Their reserves ran low years ago, leaving them with droplets at the bottom of bins. The burnt orange sky no longer rained water, but acid that burned both human and metallic skin.

Nor grasped the railing as the ground beneath her gave a great shuddering breath. The earthquakes were constant, cracking open the earth and devouring anything in their path. They used to mourn the lives lost to the molten crust, but in the past years, the quakes became too constant to care.

Everyone was growing numb to the destruction.

Nor heard the call of death in the cries of her starving people, saw it in the green fog that swept its way through the crumbling city streets with each bitter gust of wind.

And she knew, deep in her soul, that she had the power to stop it all.

“Your Grace?”

Nor stiffened at the sound of a girl’s voice behind her. She turned from her spot on the balcony, leaving the view of her planet and the pain it struck in her chest.

A girl in the doorway was half Xen Pterran, with smooth, tanned skin, and half metal parts, a whirring gear where her heart should be. A wonderful find, the girl, plucked from the streets of a collapsing sector of this damned city.

“You dare approach me, in my private quarters?” Nor said. The wind howled, whipping at her midnight waves of hair. “What is the meaning of this?”

She smiled to herself, as the girl took a half-step back, and bowed her head, silver hair falling into her face.

Nor had always loved the sound of her own voice, powerful yet pure all at once. A voice that brought even the strongest, bravest men to their knees. A voice that could make heads roll, should anyone speak a word against her.

“Apologies, your Grace,” the girl whispered. She cast her gaze down to her bare toes. “Darai has called upon you, and...”

Nor lifted a hand. The girl’s words stopped at once.

“Take me to him,” Nor commanded.

“He is in his office, your Grace. I will escort you there, if you should wish it.”

Nor nodded once.

The girl turned, the gears in her metallic chest whining. Human, but barely so.

Nor cast a glance backwards. The sharp, spiked collar of her midnight gown stabbed at her throat, but she relished the pain.

It reminded her of the pain she would soon inflict.

She briskly followed the servant girl down the tapestry-lined hallways and into the lift. They stood in silence as they glided down ten stories before coming to a halt at the door of Darai’s office.

Nor brushed past the trembling girl and swept into the room, not bothering to knock.

Stars winked back at her. Hundreds of thousands painted on the walls, a replica of the sky that Xen Ptera had not been able to see for years. And in the center of the room, seated at his white desk, was Nor’s most trusted advisor.

“You think so highly of yourself, Darai, that you summon
me
to
your
quarters?” Nor hissed. She approached the pristine white desk.

“Apologies, your Highness,” he said, standing and giving her a deep bow, grey hair falling across his weathered face.

“Why am I here?”

“I have news regarding the weapon. I just got word from Dr. Aberti that it is in the final stages of development.”

Nor’s mood brightened at this news. Months, she’d been waiting, imagining the glory of her greatest creation…and Xen Ptera’s last hope. “Then we should prepare ourselves at once.”

Darai stood from his desk, his long robes sweeping behind him like a curtain. “Highness, if I may suggest…”

“Speak now, Darai, before I grow tired of you.”

He bowed his head, and approached her slowly, careful not to look her in the eyes. “The timing, Majesty, is of utmost importance. We must remain patient, to ensure all of the pieces fall into place, before making our move.”

“The final piece is already in place,” Nor said, with a wave of her metal hand.

Seeing it only reminded her of the past. The explosions. The loss.

Nor turned away, her spiked collar grazing her jaw. Across the room, the painted stars glared back at her like devil’s eyes.

“When we bring the galaxy to its knees,” Nor said, a smile slowly appearing onto her rouged lips, “I’d like to repaint this room. Perhaps, with the blood of every man, woman, and child who has ever lifted a finger against my planet.”

Darai swept across the tiled floor to join her at her side.

“Majesty.” His voice was slippery, as if drenched in oil. “When we bring the galaxy to its knees, you can paint the entire palace in blood, if you wish it.”

Nor closed her eyes, and smiled.

She could see it,
taste
it.

And it pleased her.

Andi crossed her arms over her chest, fingers digging into her biceps as she tried to keep her anger in check. She sat in her captain's seat, staring out of the newly repaired
Marauder
and into the interior of the tracker ship’s massive cargo bay in which it sat, still fuming from the conversation with Cyprian.

“Are we really going to go quietly into this job?” Breck asked, leaning against the entry door behind her.

Andi swirled in her chair to face her crew, giving them a once-over. No serious injuries, other than a nasty cut on Breck’s collarbone. Andi’s muscles loosened slightly, knowing they were all in one piece.

“I wouldn't necessarily say we went quietly into any of this,” Lira said from the pilot's chair. “We slaughtered them, like meat for the Star Market. I’m still surprised they allowed us to keep our heads after that.”

Breck made a sound in the back of her throat. “I wouldn't be surprised if Cyprian went back on his word to pardon us after we deliver his son, safe and sound, back to daddy.”

“Let me shoot the old man, Andi,” Gilly whined from beside Breck. Her red braids had come undone, and curls tumbled over her shoulders, making her green eyes pop. She could have been the devil’s daughter. “Then this will all be over.”

“No one,” Andi said, glaring at Gilly over Breck’s massive form, “is shooting anyone else. Not yet, at least.”

She’d already thought about it, imagined all the ways in which she’d get herself and her crew out of this. But right now, they were boxed in like cattle. Cyprian had said many things in their meeting, but a full pardon from all her treasonous acts seemed too good to be a realistic outcome. Cyprian was a politician. The art of deception ran through his veins as thick as his blood.

“I don't like it any more than you three,” Andi said, “but we weren't given much of a choice. Our ship is in his hands, our weapons are in his vault, and he has an entire tracker full of armed guards surrounding this cargo bay.” She tapped her fingertips on the armrest. “I don't doubt he’ll try to screw us in the end, but if the stars allow it, we can get out of this with our heads still attached.”

“But this is Xen Ptera,” Gilly said. “We’ve never stolen anything from there.”

“We can't think of it like that. If we do, we will end up overthinking every move we make. It's just another job. A grab-and-go.” Andi had a hard time believing that herself, but she had to be strong for her crew.

Of all the pilots and gunners in Mirabel, she’d landed the best. Loyal down to their blood and bones.

“Whatever you say, Captain,” Breck said. “If you don't mind, I’m going to take Gilly down to check out the new guns.”

Gilly grinned ear to ear as she and Breck left the room. Lira stayed, watching Andi with those all-seeing Adhiran eyes. They’d been together the longest, shared countless stories over bottles of Cosmic Cram until their eyes became as glassy as the stars.

“You're not okay, Andi. I can see it as clear as Varillium, so stop trying to pretend that you are,” Lira said.

Andi sighed, running her hand through her tangled white and purple hair.

“I'm always fine,” Andi snapped. But she knew Lira sensed the lie the moment it left her lips. She sighed. “I’m just in shock. Seeing Dex again after I thought he was gone for good...I stuck a knife through him, Lira. And now he’s come back to haunt me.”

“You are stronger than he is,” Lira said.

Andi nodded. “I need some time alone, if you don't mind.”

Lira looked at her doubtfully but obliged. “I’ll be downstairs in the weapons bay if you need me.”

Andi watched Lira’s blue form leave before turning to look out the clear glass wall overlooking the inside of the tracker ship. Men in Patrolmen uniforms scuttled around like ants as they put the final touches on the
Marauder
repairs
.

She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. It was an exhaustion Andi doubted sleep could fix. For once, she wasn't positive what the next step would be, besides finding and retrieving Valen. Beyond that was an expanse of complete uncertainty. If only she could believe Cyprian’s promises of pardons and freedom—of getting back to a simpler, easier life. But she knew that her chance at a simple life was destroyed when Kaley took her last breath. Andi had a feeling that Cyprian knew this as well.

“Hello, Androma Racella.”

Andi whirled in her chair, reaching for her swords, only to realize they were still in Dex’s possession. As she stood, she paused, and found herself face to face with…some
thing
.

She hadn’t met many androids in her life, though she’d seen them on the feeds years ago, attending to the deep-pocketed aristocrats across Mirabel.

The android’s face was white like the snowcapped mountains on Solera. It had two eyes, a nose and mouth, legs and arms, but besides that, it was absent of any human traits. The android was see-through, like the
Marauder
’s walls, and Andi could see all the gears and wires inside its body from head to toe, clicking and whirring silently, like an old-era clock.

Androids had been banned since the Galactic War ended twenty years ago, when they were outlawed by the government. Xen Ptera weaponized them against the other systems and if not for Mirabel’s advanced military, the unified systems would’ve fallen.

After staring for a few seconds, a whistling from down the hallway pulled Andi’s attention away from the android. Dex strolled into the control room with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Alfie,” he said, looking between the two of them.

“Alfie?” Andi asked.

“It stands for Artificial Lifeform and I added the “ie” to make it less boring.”

Andi wanted to know how Dex had managed to get his hands on one, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of asking. Instead, she turned around and sat back into her chair.

Dex crouched down next to her, lips level with her ear. “You know, you were a lot more fun three years ago.”

It was like he
wanted
her to kill him.

She turned, unfazed that their faces were separated by mere centimeters. So close she could see the pores in his caramel skin, the deep brown of his eyes, and the raised scar that rested near his temple.

She’d given him that scar.

What she also noticed was how her heart no longer fluttered like it used to when he looked at her. She used to love his eyes, their unspoken words. The feel of his skin against hers during their passionate nights, but now those thoughts made her cringe. She guarded herself against those details scrounged from distant memories. They were no longer part of a blissful reality but a hurtful past.

“A lot has changed in three years, Dextro,” Andi said calmly. “Now if you don't move, I’ll give you a new scar, and this time,” she said, pointing to his right temple, “it will be across your neck.”

He put his arms up in defense before rising, distancing himself from her.

“Alfie, let’s go find our bunks and get settled in.” He glanced back at Andi with a faraway look in his eyes. Then he smirked, and said, “It's great to be back on
my
ship.”

He left the room before she could leap to her feet.

Dex.

Even his name was poison in her mind.

In a different time, Andi would’ve felt guilty for her coldness toward him. But that time was long gone. Now she was made of ice, too afraid to get close to him, for fear that he’d melt her all over again from the inside out.

He’d betrayed her, and so she’d betrayed him.

One shredded heart for another.

She remembered the way Dex’s eyes had burned, how the tip of her dagger stuck from his gut as he lay sprawled on that scalding, barren moon. It was the day she’d claimed the
Marauder
as her own. The day she’d claimed her heart back, too.

Hearts were pathetic things, too easily broken. The Bloody Baroness couldn’t afford such a weakness.
Especially
not now that Dex was at her side.

It’s one job,
Andi told herself.
You can launch him out the airlock the second you recover Valen Cortas.

She smiled at that thought and settled down into her seat. Andi closed her eyes and imagined the moment she’d have her swords back in her hands.

There would be another tally added soon, accompanying the others on her blades.

It had Dex’s name written all over it.

Stay Tuned for ZENITH, Part Two