Page 162 of Star Bringer
“Hey,” I say from the door in an attempt not to startle her. She’s jumpy at the best of times—for obvious reasons—and we’ve all learned it’s better to give her a warning than end up at the business end of whatever object she turns into a weapon when she’s startled.
She stiffens, but she doesn’t reach for anything to throw at me, so I’ll consider it a win. “What are you doing here?” she demands. I can tell she tried to inject her tone with the same vitriol she usually has when she speaks to me, but it just isn’t there. I think I’m growing on her like one of the fungi from Ellindan.
“I was hoping to speak with you. I have a favor to ask.” I cross the bridge, and she rushes to close her screen, but not before I see what’s on it. “Are you playing stirobi? Against who?”
“You’re sure asking a lot of questions for someone who wants a favor,” she snarls before leaning back in her chair and kicking her feet up on the console in front of her.
I sit down in the chair next to her. “It’s a game. I didn’t realize the answer was top secret.”
“I’m playing against theStarlight. She always wins, but I’m getting better.” She takes a big bite of her protein bar and gives me an are-you-happy-now look. “So what do you want? I thought you’d be off boning the captain and his other half or something.”
“Wow, classy.” I roll my eyes as she laughs.
“Yep, that’s me.” She takes a swig of water. “So lay this favor on me so I can tell you no and you can get the fuck off my bridge.”
“You know, Beckett, the thing I’m going to miss the most about being on this ship is your incredible graciousness. It’s always so heartwarming.”
“Yeah, well—” she starts, then freezes. “Going to miss?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Are we close to anywhere with a breathable atmosphere?”
She narrows her eyes. “Define close.”
“Under three hours away from?” I’d like to get this done before anybody else wakes up.
For several seconds, she just stares at me. Not like she’s in shock—like she’s trying to figure out if I’m for real. Whatever she sees in my face must convince her that I am serious, because she doesn’t say another word. She just turns back to theStarlightand presses some buttons.
Seconds later, a huge map of the system around us comes up on the viewing screens. “Turns out we’re about two hours away from one of Glacea’s outer moons and about four hours from another.” She gestures to their relative positions on the screens.
“Is there anything on the closest moon?” I ask.
“Not a lot. But it is a military outpost, so you shouldn’t have any problems finding a ride home—if that’s where you’re planning on going.”
“It is.”
“I figured.” She fiddles with theStarlight’s controls for a few seconds. “You want me to set course for it?”
Do I want her to? Not even a little bit. Am I going to have her do it anyway? “Yes, please.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just enters the coordinates of the moon and then, after another long glance my way, goes back to playing her game.
It’s why I asked for her help. She’s the only one on board, besides maybe Merrick, who won’t try to talk me out of this. And since I really, really don’t want to leave, I’m afraid it won’t be that hard to convince me not to—especially if Ian is the one doing the convincing.
We sit in silence for over an hour, Beckett playing her game and me using the paper I found in the storage bay to write out a message to Ian, trying to explain to him what I barely understand myself.
“He’s going to be pissed. You know that, right?” Beckett says as Glacea’s moon fills up the screen in front of us.
“Better angry than dead,” I answer. It’s what I need to hear, too, to get rid of the ball of tension in my stomach and the index of regrets in my head. Because I’d rather everyone on board be angry instead of dead—even Beckett—and if there’s any way I can save them, I have to take it.
“You really think your mother was telling the truth?” she asks. Coming from anyone else, her tone would be one of total boredom, but for Beckett, any mild interest is the equivalent of burning curiosity.
“About the assassination attempts being aimed at me? I do,” I tell her. “It never felt right it could be the Corporation—they’re really just all about profits and my family keeps them profitable. The Sisterhood would never risk harming their high priestess by shooting us down. It can’t be the rebels; you’ve already vouched for them. And I trust you.”
She lifts a brow at that but doesn’t say anything.
I shove a shaking hand through my hair, because saying it out loud just makes me even more convinced. “The Empire is the only other entity with the money to command that many ships and the reach to distribute all those flyers. If you disagree, I’m all ears. But I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and nothing else makes sense to me.”
“Me either, but this way I can tell Ian I tried to change your mind.”
