Chapter 19
If Nia acted any more suspicious, she’d gain more attention than that of two enforcers.
Mace caught Glade’s eye and waved her off. He’d only left Nia to her own devices for ten minutes, and already she’d have a report written up about her. Sliding behind her, he gave the weapons vendor a nod.
His ward wasn’t a danger to the people here no matter how she looked right now. He’d bet his life on it. If she grabbed a knife to hurt those around her, he’d slit his own throat.
When he settled a hand on her shoulder, she jumped like he’d screamed in her ear.
She spun around, relief flooding her eyes when she saw him. “I wasn’t doing anything!” Her words were heated, but her tone quiet.
“I know, izar.” He slid his hand to the small of her back, coaxing her from the hazard. “Come.”
Ignoring those who sent stares their way, he wove her through the crowd to a narrow gap in a bulkhead, on the other side of the atrium. The dark corridor snaked a twist and turn, then opened into a vast space, the air thick with moisture and the scent of earth.
Nia’s gasp of wonder made him look around the arboretum with new eyes.
Trees towered, reaching toward the special lights crisscrossing the overhead five levels above. Evergreens, redwoods, birch, palms, ferns, and flowering bushes grew close together. Pathways and landscaped sections separated them in intervals. A green flavor filled his nostrils. Air, pumped in through the ventilation system, rustled leaves. Water gurgled from farther along.
Beneath his hand, tension leaked from her body in a whoosh of breath. “It’s beautiful.”
She stepped away from him, and his hand dropped to his side. Tilting her head, she walked along the winding composite path to the bright red bridge ahead.
“A stream.” She stopped halfway across and stared at the flowing water.
“It’s a self-contained ecosystem,” he offered.
She startled like she hadn’t remembered he was there, then straightened. His chest panged when the joy on her face melted away.
“It even has fish in it,” he said, hoping to bring back that look of delight.
Her expression softened. “I’ve never seen anything like this except in the Lunar colonies and Mars.” She shook her head. “Is this why I hear water running in some of the main corridors?”
He nodded, stepping closer. “It’s all connected.”
Her eyes followed the line of the closest conifer as it reached to the overhead. “How are the trees so big? Genetic manipulation?”
“They’re just old.”
She glanced at him then away, questions swirling in her eyes. No doubt wondering how long Orion had been here. But he couldn’t get more into the history of the station than what she would have been able to read through his terminal.
The grounds beyond the path swelled and dipped in man-made slopes. At the top of one, a young couple sat side by side with their heads bent together, whispering. Others walked along the path, some leisurely, some taking short cuts to other parts of the station. From somewhere farther along, a child squealed in delight.
Turning on her heel, Nia continued along the path. Mace followed at a distance. When the trail crested a hill, she stepped off and strode up the grassy incline, pausing where aspens circled a clearing. She spun around, arms spread wide, face upturned toward the lights, before dropping to lay spread-eagled on the grass.
His chest panged at the sight of her enjoyment. He turned slightly, intent on giving her privacy, when her sultry voice rang across the space between them.
“Why did you become a warrior?”
A couple passed him on the path. He gave them a nod, then headed up the incline toward Nia.
Her eyes were closed, the rise and fall of her chest even. He could be doing a hundred other things right now, but none seemed important at the moment. He’d stayed away from her this past week as much as he could, but right now, none of his reason why seemed to matter.
When he didn’t answer, she tipped her chin and opened one eye to capture his gaze.
Exhaling, he broke eye contact, and strolled to the closest tree. When he turned around, she still stared at him with that one, russet eye.
He leaned against the trunk. “I always knew I was going to be one,” he said loud enough for his voice to carry. “From the time I could walk, I’d always wanted to be like my parents.”
Both eyes widening, she sat up. “They’re warriors?”
“Were.” An ache throbbed in his chest like it always did when he thought of them. “Both died in battle.”
His father and mother had given each other strength. But Mace also knew their emotional attachment had killed them. During their last mission, his father wouldn’t leave his mother behind to save himself. After all the lectures he’d gotten from his father about never being weak, never showing vulnerability, it was his own that had killed him.
Mace couldn’t find any shame in the way they’d died.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
He waved her comment away, sliding down the trunk until he sat with knees bent. “You can ask me anything you like.”
Hesitating, she wrapped her arms around her knees and asked, “What were they like?”
“I guess my father was a lot like me.” He tilted his head. “Or I’m a lot like him. His father had been a warrior and his father before him. It was something expected of me, but if it hadn’t been, it would have been my choice. It’s what I’m good at.”
Throughout his description, her eyes lighted with interest.
He continued. “My mother was a lot gentler.”
Nia’s eyebrows jumped. “Gentle? A warrior?”
Her surprise amused him, though he tried not to show it. “She wasn’t raised to be a warrior like most of us are. She became one as an adult. She’d had a life of science before that.”
“Why did she become one then?”
Memories of his mother assaulted him, of the sometimes-sadness in her eyes. How he’d asked her once why she would get tattoos on her wrists like her old captive’s bonds. It reminds me of where I came from.
But he didn’t want to tell Nia this, draw the similarities of how she’d come to Orion compared to his mother. “Circumstances changed for her, and it seemed her best option.”
A frown gathered along Nia’s brow, her eyes distant.
“What of your parents? What are they like?”
He regretted his question when her spine snapped straight. She glanced around, her expression wary, before resettling on him.
“Um.” She licked her lips. “My mother is stern, very driven. She wanted different things for me, but I rebelled.” Turning her head, she focused on something in the distance.
“You were far from home.” He’d never heard of anyone from the ruling class working so close to the front lines.
“Yes,” she agreed, meeting his gaze once more. “Our different viewpoints created obstacles in our relationship.”
“And your father?”
“He just wanted me to be happy.” Her expression softened. “Growing up, I received the most affection from him. He’s boisterous where my mother is reserved.”
“You’re an only child, aren’t you?”
For hundreds of years, the CORE had placed a ban on having more than one child. Except for the ruling class. As a result, most of the influential CORE families had as many children as possible to secure their future bloodlines.
A red hue climbed her throat, eyes darting around to see if anyone was listening. “My father believes rules should apply to everyone.”
“Sounds like a revolutionary.”
“Hardly,” she replied, gaze snapping to his, and there was a note of unease in her tone. “An accusation like that could have him arrested for questioning.”
He lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t make a habit of reporting people to CORE officials.”
Her shoulders slumped. “No. Of course, not.” She rested her chin on her knees, fingers fiddling with her bonds.
The urge to remove them overwhelmed him, but they’d be a permanent fixture for a long time to come.
She reached for the grass in front of her and pulled, tearing out some blades. “What’s the significance of your tattoo?”
The question startled him, but he answered. “It’s a family design. My father had his whole back covered in the same pattern, my mother her wrists.”
“Why do some of you get tattoos on your faces?” She mangled the grass between her fingers.
“It’s a declaration.”
She lifted her head, eyes round. “Of what?”
“To denounce CORE authority. The warrior would rather die than be taken prisoner. Once inked, the tattoo is impossible to remove, something about the process.” He paused, thinking of the damage to his own ink. “Unless you remove the skin entirely.”
Her eyes shuttered, and she returned to pulling grass. He added, “Warriors often get them if a loved one dies in battle. Or, quite often, the warrior gets a prominent tattoo because they weren’t born Tellusian and it’s their way of declaring they would never go back to the CORE.”
There was something about her movements, a jerkiness, which made him say, “Why did you ask that question?”
She didn’t answer but let the torn bits of green fall to the ground through her fingers.
“Nia?”
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “You weren’t the first Tellusian to take me hostage.”
His entire body went rigid. “Tell me.”
Keeping his gaze, she propped her hands on knees, and rested her chin on the backs of her fingers. “My first post was on a medical aid vessel, the Diligence. We were positioned near Jupiter during the alignment. A Guardian was heavily damaged, and we were close enough to help without waiting for medical transports. We docked with it.” She closed her eyes. “It was a trap, a Destroyer came out of high speed, attacked, then boarded. They were raiding for medical officers.” Her eyes popped open. “You could have been on board that ship.”
He shook his head. “I had no part of the raids during the alignment.”
“How come?”
He hesitated, not sure how much he should say about their politics. But who would she tell? “At the time, the council was split. There were those who wanted to take advantage of Jupiter’s orbit, claim all its colonies, and those who wanted to remain true to the treaties of the time. I belonged to the latter.”
“And now? Is there still a split?”
Again, he hesitated. “Right now, there is full agreement with the members.” But that wasn’t the full truth. He knew of those who would change their stance if certain people had their way, like Admiral Ricker. “Continue with your story,” he encouraged.
She settled her chin on her hands again. “I was young and stupid. I should have evacuated with the rest of my bay, but I tried to save the life of my patient. The main power was out, the equipment dead. If I stopped my compressions, he would have died.”
“You were brave. Doing your duty.”
She shook her head. “Doing my duty killed my CO and a colleague.” A haunted expression passed over her features. “I was the last to leave. I heard them coming, the gunfire and the screams. I hid, but a warrior found me. He had a bird tattoo on his face.” She touched her eyebrow. “Here.” Her fingers trailed the side of cheek and jaw. “A hawk frozen in the act of eating his eyeball. He held a knife to my throat and tried to take me. Defenders stopped him. Killed him and saved my life. When you did the same thing—” She stopped speaking, her words choked.
Pain sliced through his chest, quickly followed by the need to track down the man who’d done that to her. There couldn’t be that many warriors with hawks on their faces. But his volatile reaction made no sense since he’d done the same thing.
“I would change it if I could.”
Her body stilled. She lifted her head, her brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
He rushed ahead with the confession he hadn’t known he needed to voice. “I should have left you.” Silence rang between them, their gazes locked.
Even as he said the words, he wasn’t sure he would have been able to leave her if given a second chance.
“Why didn’t you?” she whispered.
Excuses froze on his lips. When he’d first taken her hostage, he’d planned on leaving her as soon as she’d served her purpose. His shift in thinking hadn’t occurred until the first explosion ripped through Elara Five. It had been a subtle change in his plans, one he didn’t acknowledge until she’d screamed at him to let her go on the Raven—a demand he found impossible to obey.
Nia swallowed, shaking her head. “If you hadn’t taken me, I probably would have died. Or been taken by another and ended up here anyway.”
Both scenarios made his insides clench with pain. Both were unacceptable.
They stared at each other a long while, searching for answers neither of them could provide.
Then, Nia closed her eyes and flopped onto her back, arms spread wide. Mace remained where he was, watching her, wondering what had happened between them. Would she hate him more because of his confession?
He didn’t understand why he cared.
A communique beeped on his vambrace, a personal request from Cache to meet in her quarters. He tensed. It had been a long time since she’d communicated with him in other than a professional capacity, as she would with any of her commanders. With all the side glances she’d been sending him over the past ten days, he knew it wouldn’t be about anything good.
His fingers skimmed over the controls of his vambrace, acknowledging the request and calling Elec to him. He couldn’t leave Nia on her own when she’d already gained the attention of the enforcers on duty.
Mace spent the next minutes staring at his ward. She kept her eyes closed, her expression content as she upturned her face to the artificial light like someone starved for vitamin D. He should tell her he was leaving, but she looked too peaceful to disturb.
When Elec arrived, Mace stood and gave him a nod. And with one last glance at his ward, he left.