CHAPTER 1
Apparently, there are no red flags when you dump an ungodly amount of money into your account on this station.
The automated system had accepted the bag of CCal literally dumped into the deposit compartment that looked like a very strangely shaped funnel.
When the exchange rate had gone through, my stomach had done a little flip.
It was more than I’d earned at Phantom’s in the entirety of my time working there.
The number wasn’t as concerning as whatever it had actually paid for.
Even though Ferrok wasn’t worried about it, I was, and every once in a while I noticed Mooralan scanning the corridors around us.
But inside their apartment, I felt safe.
Laying on their couch, I have my head on Ferrok’s lap while I read a novel that Cherry got Phantom to translate.
It’s awful, and I love it. I don’t know what half of the technology is, but they added little dictionary links to most of the words that weren’t able to be translated.
Ferrok flips through channels I can easily block out, because I can’t understand any of the languages.
Until he makes a noise.
“The king is dead,” he says.
“Long live the king.” I look up at him, and the concern on his face kills any and all other thoughts of joking.
“That’s why the Trulavian wanted my blood.”
Mooralan curses from the other room, and Ferrok has gone so still, I sit up, curling one leg under me to look at him.
“What does that mean?”
Coming out to the living room with us, Mooralan says, “It means the heir is probably on a bastard hunt.”
“But why would he care about bastards… He’s the heir, so he’s the king, right?”
“Not necessarily. Some bastards have challenged for right to rule in the past, and they’ve won. If he thinks that’s possible… he’s dangerous.”
“And if he’s dangerous… he’s dangerous to more than just me.”
“You think he’d hurt us?” I ask.
“Honestly? I wouldn’t put it past him to remove all of the Sovians on the station if he needed to. So, the fact that he had someone checking our blood at least means that he wanted to know which of us it was instead of just killing us all.
“You’re assuming you’re the only one on the station. There are probably a dozen more in this sector. It would stand to reason that more than one of you wound up here.”
“We’ve all checked. We’re not related. It’s pretty normal to ask the question when someone new joins the community. I guess they could be lying.”
“Do you think they marked the samples?” Mooralan asks.
“There was some sort of marking on them, but if it was a language, I don’t know what it was.”
“We have to hope they don’t try to remove the whole station.”
“Phantom wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Phantom might not be able to stop it.”
“We should warn them, at the very least.”
“And Sirin.” Ferrok nods his head and narrows all his eyes. “But, it won’t be enough.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Mooralan asks.
“Is what necessary?”
“If he’s on a bastard hunt, he isn’t going to be satisfied until every one of us is dead.” Ferrok answers Mooralan, not me. “It’s my only option.”
“What does that mean, though?” I stand up and make Ferrok look at me.
“It means that I have to leave.”