Chapter 17 Lyra
lyra
One Pill, Two Pills…Who’s Counting?
“For the last time, I told you that asshole ranger took me by surprise, stole the idol, and gave me the slip back on Mallorus,” I explain, exaggerating my words like I’m talking to a child. “How else do you think I ended up with a face looking like this?”
It’s the first time I’m grateful Fobos’s enforcer did a number on me, since it makes my story that much more believable. The swelling of my eye has gone down, but the fresh bruises and healing cuts are enough to give me some credibility.
“Honestly, Kraxis, I’m glad you guys showed up here.
After I left Mallorus, I had every intention of going straight back to Ooneryx, but my ship was damaged—all thanks to that ranger—and has been malfunctioning.
I wouldn’t have been able to make the trip if the crew of the Hephaestus hadn’t heard my distress signal and offered to help,” I say, gesturing to Evie, who’s sitting in her office with her arms crossed and murder in her gaze.
I hope it isn’t directed at me entirely.
“What Phoenix says is true,” Evie nods. “We received her distress call and she arrived here alone. My crew will vouch for that. I’ve had my mechanic working on repairs to her ship, and they’re just about finished.
Once the ship is space-worthy, I’ll look forward to being compensated by your boss for the materials—and the trouble. ”
Kraxis glares at her, but she doesn’t flinch. I come up off the edge of the desk where I’ve been leaning and hold out my hands in a universal gesture of surrender.
“I’m telling you—that Xylothian screwed us both over. He stole Oglor’s plasma rifle and had me at gunpoint back on Xylothia! I’ve been trying to figure out how to get away from him this whole time,” I drawl.
“Enough of your lies!” Kraxis hisses. “Your fate is not mine to decide, unfortunately. I certainly had more imaginative ideas, but by rights you are Brill’s to punish. He is most displeased with yet another failure, Lyra Phoenix.”
“Yeah, well, what else is new?” I grumble.
Dread has become a permanent resident in my gut, along with self-loathing and regret.
The small part of me that’s afraid of what Brill has in store for me pales in comparison to how wretched I feel for betraying Orion’s trust. I’ve never felt regret for lying to save my own ass, but the way his face fell when I told him about the Fed from Epsilon-6…
it was worse than being cut with a rusty blade.
The fact that I’ve inadvertently been leading Brill toward a weapon of planet-destroying power is worse than salt in a wound.
And instead of properly apologizing, asking him for help, and trying to fix my own damn mistakes, I sent him away.
“We don’t have time to wait for whatever haphazard repairs your second-rate mechanics will blunder through,” Kraxis growls at Evie.
The slight to her beloved crew has a vein ready to burst in her forehead, and I’m certain if the other five Void Stalkers weren’t crowded into her already cramped office alongside the ever-present Drellers at her back, she’d beat the ever-loving snot out of Kraxis.
“The Aldrin-136 isn’t fit to travel yet,” she says through gritted teeth.
Kraxis waves away her concern. “That dump wasn’t fit to travel before it left Ooneryx,” he sneers. “We’re towing it back in our tractor beam.”
I suspected as much, but I’m nevertheless disappointed that I can’t squeeze a few more hours onboard the Hephaestus with Evie.
Still, leading the Edax Deorum and its band of brutal miscreants far away from Orion and the idol is my number one priority, and there’s no time like the present to ensure my criminally hot, lawful pain-in-the-ass has a chance to undo at least a few of my mistakes.
“Secure your things, Lyra Phoenix. We’re leaving shortly. As to your compensation, Ms. Redfern, we could offer to come back with sufficient remuneration, but I don’t really think you want us returning to your station, do you?” he says in a low, threatening voice.
Evie’s gaze could strip paint off a wall, but she keeps her mouth shut. Instead, she pushes a button on her desk and the door to her office slides open with the hiss of compressed air.
Kraxis grins, inclines his head, and motions for his crew to leave. One of them rounds on me, grabbing my arm and shoving me through the doorway roughly.
“Ow! Watch where you’re going, corpse-licker!” I snap, pulling back to throw a look over my shoulder.
Evie’s rage melts in an instant, and she looks at me with apprehension.
“I’ll transfer some credits for the repairs,” I call to her. “And thanks for…being there. Thanks for everything.” I want to say more, but I can’t risk it with Kraxis breathing down my neck. If he senses the affection I have for her, it will make her just as much of a target as Orion is.
Seems everyone who gets close to me ends up in my own personal blast radius.
He’ll say it wasn’t my fault. They always do, the people left behind. But I’m tired of the math of loss. Someone always pays, and so far it hasn’t been me—not really. Maybe that’s what Brill will fix.
“Be safe out there,” she returns, her voice thick with emotion, as if she already knows I won’t be.
As the team of Void Stalkers marches me down the corridor toward the launch bays where our ships are parked, my stomach turns to ice.
Each step feels like it’s carrying me closer to my own execution.
My palms are slick, my throat dry, my heart a trapped animal in my chest. Pain lances through my chest when I consider the danger I’m in and the possibility that this might be the last time I see Evie and the Hephaestus.
It’s not the first goodbye that’s gutted me today—but it might be the last one I ever get to make.
Stars, if there was ever a time to get on my knees and beg for the benevolence of gods and goddesses, it’d be now.
Unfortunately, I’ve never been a favorite of the omnipotent set and the only person I’d happily get on my knees for would be better off hating me for setting him on a collision course with fate.
Forgive me, Orion.
“Take her below and put her into confinement,” Kraxis snarls at the Void Stalker gripping my arm.
“Hold on,” I snap. “I need to make sure my ship’s fuel cells are intact. If they were damaged, they’ll need to be offloaded before you tow my ship. Otherwise, you’re risking scooting through space with a ticking time bomb in your tractor beam.”
Kraxis narrows his eyes, but nods. “Garbak, go with her. If she tries anything, bite off one of her fingers. Brill doesn’t need all her appendages.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I shoot back. “You don’t know what I can do with my fingers.”
The disgust on Kraxis’s face gives me a perverse sense of pride—malicious compliance is the only thing that’s keeping me from completely falling apart.
I take a deep breath as I climb up the ramp to the Aldrin, silently hoping that Orion has taken the idol and is already long gone.
Peering around the ship under the pretense of checking for leaking fuel cells confirms my hopes and hollows out my insides at the same time.
Some of Orion’s things are gone, and the stasis cabinet in the lab is empty.
Satisfied, I return to the cockpit where Garbak is waiting, scowling at me and snapping his jaws every few minutes to remind me of what awaits my disobedience.
He pushes past me toward the ramp and growls for me to follow.
Pausing at the threshold of my ship, I notice Spike’s absence from the console.
For some stupid reason, the sight drops my heart into a shredder.
I only have a few moments to do what I need to, but the thought makes me want to scream and cry and throw up.
I don’t want to do this, but I know I have to.
I suck in a breath, trying to force the words past my lips before Garbak can realize what I’m about to do.
“Ada,” I say softly. “We’re on our way back to Ooneryx. You know what that means.”
If you would like me to enact the Yanvin Protocol, I’ll need your voice key and consent to process.
Everything in me aches with despair. This is my point of no return. I know what I need to do, but crippling sadness lodges in my throat, snaking into my lungs and squeezing my heart. Why am I always on the losing side of things?
Garbak finally turns and realizes I’m not right behind him. Growling and gesturing from the bottom of the ramp, he stomps back toward me hurling a litany of Void Stalker obscenities.
I’m doing this for Evie. I’m doing this for Orion. I’m doing this for my parents—for all the people of Xylothia. I’m not doing it for me because stars know I don’t want to.
Voice key and consent to process, Ada pings again.
“So long, Ada, and thanks for all the memories,” I choke out, eyes burning. Tilting my head back, I belt out the chorus to David Bowie’s “Starman” at the top of my lungs. Tears stream down my face as Garbak finally reaches me, backhanding me hard enough to make me stumble down the ramp.
Voice key and consent to process acknowledged. Initiating memory wipe. Goodbye, Captain Lyra Phoenix, and good luck.
A cheery tone echoes through the hangar and a robotic voice—not Ada’s—follows.
Welcome! I’m your Advanced Digital Assistant and Navigator. To select your ship’s preferences, just say Menu and we can begin.
Kraxis stalks over and yanks me off the floor by my hair. Pain sears my scalp, but it’s nothing compared to the cavernous agony in my chest.
First Orion, then Evie, and now…Ada is gone.