bridge at all of us.
“But we’re stepping over the edge here. I won’t blame any of you if you want out. We’re fugitives from the Terran government now. But if we cross a Galactic Interdiction line, we’re going to be wanted by every government everywhere.”
Tyler’s right, and everyone knows it. Galactic Interdiction is the hardest of hard-core codes. It’s only used on the most dangerous sectors in the galaxy—systems ravaged by outbreaks or infestations that present an imminent threat to the rest of galactic civilization. The Lysergia plague. Selmis pox. Temporal storms. You don’t mess around with systems under GI. You break it, they don’t court-martial you. They vaporize you on sight and try not to get any on their shoes.
Tyler looks us all in the eyes. “Anyone who wants to leave, head down to level three, hit the escape pod, and abandon ship. No hard feelings.”
Scarlett puts her hand on her hip. “You’re kidding right?”
“I mean it, Scar. We don’t know what we’re going to find once we get to Octavia. This isn’t what any of us signed up for.”
She walks across the deck, places both hands on Tyler’s shoulders, turns his chair to face her. This close, even though they’re not identical, I can see how alike they are. The unshakable bond between them. Deeper than blood.
Leaning down, Scarlett kisses her brother’s cheek.
“I signed up for you, dummy.”
“An Ace backs her Alpha,” I say.
I meet Tyler’s eyes as he looks up at me.
“Always,” he replies.
I smile in return. “Always.”
“I am not normal,” Zila says into the quiet that follows.
We look at her, her eyes downturned, toying with the gold hoops in her ears. I realize they’ve got tiny pizza slices on them. Her curls are a dark curtain around her face, her voice a murmur.
“Zila?” Scar asks.
“The only places I fit are the places inside my head,” she continues. “It is as you said, sir. I do not understand people.” She looks around the bridge. “But I believe of all the places I have not fit, I fit here a little better.”
Scar smiles. “Who wants to be normal when you can be interesting instead?”
Zila looks at Scar and nods. “I will stay.”
Kal speaks up from his place by the weapons console. His knuckles are scabbed, his eyes burning as he looks to O’Malley.
“I will stay until the end of this road.”
“Well, good luck with that,” Finian says. “But speaking personally, breaking Galactic Interdiction is where this particular Betraskan draws the line. I’m not about to make an enemy out of every government in the galaxy for the sake of a two-hundred-year-old telekinetic dirtchild who starts tossing us around like kebar balls every time someone clobbers her on the brainthing. But have fun with the suicide mission, kids!”
We’re all a little stunned, I think. The whole squad watches as Finian twirls once in his seat, stands up and starts slowly limping toward the doors, his exosuit whining. I can’t blame him really. He’s Betraskan, after all, and the trouble we’re in only goes as far as Terra. If he follows the smart money and cuts ties now, he might even be able to …
Finian turns back to face us, points right at me.
“Had you going, didn’t I?”
“What?”
He breaks into a broad, shit-eating grin. “Admit it. All of you. You thought I was actually going to eject, didn’t you?”
I find myself grinning, too, picking up Shamrock and hurtling him across the bridge. Fin doesn’t try to catch it and the toy bounces off his chest and hits the deck.
“You’re an asshole, Finian,” Scarlett sighs.
“Yeah,” he replies. “But I’m your asshole.”
He makes a face.
“Wait, no, that didn’t come out right. Ew. Sorry. Terran as a second language and all …”
Tyler grins, looks around the bridge at Squad 312. Most of us have only known each other for a handful of days. We’ve already been through the wringer together. We’re maybe about to go through hell. But truth is, despite everything, there’s no one else in the ’Way I’d want leading me.
“Lock in a course for the Octavia system, Zero.”
I give him a salute, then give him a smile.
“Sir, yes sir.”
•••••
We’re almost at the Octavia gate when Bellerophon starts shooting at us.
Princeps has been trying to get us on comms for the last hour, but Ty ordered Scarlett to ignore the hails. It’s noisy enough in here without adding dire warnings from the GIA into the mix. Our systems have been wailing for the past twenty minutes, the local beacon alerting us