Page 2 of Radiant Exception
The mission was so fucked, and it had barely begun.
It all sounded so simple.
Step One: Find the Phoenix.
Step Two: Kill the Phoenix.
Step Three: Collect insane bounty.
Step Four: Watch Meridian implode, and live happily ever after.
Well, step four might have been stretching it, but still, I’d worked on so many ludicrously complex clandestine operations before, when I was working for the Interplanetary Alliance, or IA for short. Darren had a red-hot lead on the Phoenix’s whereabouts, and this should have been a piece of cake.
But I should have known better.
Things with Meridian and the Phoenix were never as simple as they seemed. Otherwise, how would they have evaded the authorities and continued to spread their influence throughout the system over the last decade?
Even worse, Darren had failed to mention a key element of the mission until I was minutes from stepping on the shuttle to Phobos. I had a mission partner. But it didn’t stop there; in order to securemy place on the ship where he’d tracked the Phoenix, he’d had to secure an exception for the two of us.
AN EXCEPTION!
An exception was Starlane’s corporate version of a marriage. Obtaining an exception for a couple was the only way to ensure you’d be assigned to the same ship or location as your partner. They were limited, and therefore incredibly coveted. The interviewing process was so rigorous, it was the stuff of legend.
But Darren just waves his hand and boom. Done. What the actual fuck?
I could only hope he’d managed to get one outside of the yearly allotment, because the thought of taking an exception from a true love match made me sick to my stomach.
And then there was this new husband of mine: Captain Damian Vaughn. You know, the one that was supposed to meet me before I boarded the ship for a mission debrief, so we could get our stories straight and come up with a way to explain to his crew how we’d managed to get an exception, let alone develop a relationship worthy of being granted one, without any of them having a clue.
It also would have been nice to talk through what he’d learned about the Meridian spy he likely had on board his ship and what intel he’d gleaned about how they were linked to the Phoenix, the enigmatic and de facto leader of the criminal organization, before diving into a two-month long route that would leave us trapped on board with the mole.
But the bastard had stood me up. I waited for hours at a scuzzy port cafe, per Darren’s rushed instructions, but my mission partnernever showed. Perhaps he was hoping to work the mission solo, like me, but there were benefits to having help, as long as you weren’t working with a hostile colleague, and I had a feeling I was walking into a mess.
Still, he had to know the sheer stakes of what we were trying to accomplish. And after everything I’d been through, I’d be the first to admit I had a chip on my shoulder, and something to prove, if not to IA, then at the very least, to myself.
Meridian had taken everything…and everyone, from me, and so many others, including the captain, according to the research I’d done on the shuttle trip. I’d spent the last three years tracking the Phoenix specifically, and the moniker was well deserved. So many times it seemed they had been eradicated, only to reappear halfway across the system, rising from the ashes yet again, earning their moniker.
But something about this mission felt different than all the cold leads, small-time disruptions, and low-level thugs I’d been able to remove from the equation. I could feel it. I was on the precipice of something big. And I wasn’t about to let Vaughn stand in my way. I was perfectly capable of handling this on my own, as long as he stayed out of my way.
“Miss Sterling?”
My eyes met those of the young woman sitting across the desk from me. How long had she been trying to get my attention? Ever since Deimos, I’d had issues with my mind drifting; it had been cited as a main reason for my discharge. Did she know that?
I glanced down at the communication tablet, or comm, in her hands. What was in my Starlane file? Surely IA had redacted most of my personal information, and if not them, then certainly Darren.
“My apologies.” I straightened in my chair. “You can call me Lark.”
Her hazel eyes softened. Officer Natalie Reese covered both medical and administrative duties on theRadiant, the ship I’d be working on for the next few months. She looked very young to be covering either role, let alone both, but I knew well enough not to judge a book by its cover. Curvy and petite, with her straight black hair pulled up into two precise buns, one on either side of her head, her Starlane-issued grey jumpsuit was a veritable canvas of artwork, all of which only added to her perceived youth, but also seemed to suit her outwardly quirky personality.
“I asked if you had any medical or mental health issues I should be aware of,” she repeated herself kindly.
I glanced back down at her comm again. “What does my file say?” I challenged, not wanting to give up more than was necessary, but also not wanting to lie if she had more information than I realized.
The edges of her lips curled up, already on to my tactics. “It says you’re in perfect health with no history of any medical or mental health issues.” She paused. “Which is odd, because I can see a scar along your clavicle, which appears to have been professionally sutured.”
I made sure my face remained neutral at the mention of the scar, a very visible reminder of the trauma I had suffered on Deimos, although just like an iceberg, the rest lay beneath the surface.
“A childhood injury. Files probably got lost in the last twenty or so years since.” I feigned a smile.
