the Global Intelligence Agency are not folks you mess with.
“They’ve got no faces.”
And here they are.
The five GIA agents are all perfectly identical except the one leading the pack. The leader is dressed in pure white instead of gray, so spotless and crisp it’s actually a little eerie. And I’m a Betraskan, so when I find too much white intimidating, you know it’s really doing a job.
I figure maybe the lack of color is some marker of rank, because Goldenboy gives it a smart salute and stands to attention like he’s on parade.
“Legionnaire Tyler Jones reporting.”
The figure surveys us, breath hissing softly. I can’t see its eyes, but I can tell it’s looking right at our stowaway, addressing Goldenboy like an afterthought.
“You will refer to me as Princeps.”
Tyler clears his throat, finally looking a little out of his depth. “Princeps, I don’t mean to tell you your business, but if those Unbroken get—”
“Bellerophon has dispatched two full fighter wings,” it interrupts, its voice flat and dead. “The Syldrathi wraith will be incinerated. There will be no evidence of Terra’s involvement in this … incident.”
“Forgive me for asking, Princeps, but how did you get to us so fast? We had no notification of a Terran vessel in this sector.”
He’s pressing just a fraction, and I can see Scarlett tense almost imperceptibly as she watches him. The operative turns to look Tyler in the face.
“The Global Intelligence Agency has one thousand eyes, Legionnaire Jones.”
It holds out its hand to our stowaway.
“Aurora,” it says. “We’ve come to escort you home.”
“They’ve got no faces.” “And they’re going to wipe all this away, they’re going to make it clean, they’re going to paint it black.”
“Don’t make me go,” she pleads.
She’s looking at Tyler, Goldenboy, our fearless leader. Tears in her eyes and blood on her mouth.
“Please, Tyler,” she whispers. “Don’t let them take me.”
Tyler glances at the TDF troopers, those blank GIA faces. He might be a Legionnaire, but underneath it all, he’s still a Terran. I can see it in his eyes. All those years of military training, all those years of yes sir, no sir, may I have another, sir. You don’t get to be top Alpha in the academy by rocking the boat. You don’t get to be the Goldenboy by not following orders.
“You should go with them, Auri,” he says.
Kal steps forward, hand on his sidearm as he stares the Princeps down. “This station is under Syldrathi control, Terran. You have no authorit—”
The TDF troopers raise their weapons. Two dozen targeting lasers light up Kal like it’s Federation Day.
“Control your man, Legionnaire Jones,” Princeps says.
“Kii’ne dō all’iavesh ishi,” the Syldrathi says, a flash of anger breaking through the ice. “I will—”
“That’s an order!” Ty snaps.
Kal smolders, but Syldrathi arrogance aside, the guns aimed right at that pretty face seem to give him pause. He backs down.
Auri looks around the group, tears in her eyes, but it’s clear nobody else is going to step forward. No way I’m going to, anyway. Betraskans think in terms of the negotiation. The deal. And with a trade this bad, the smart move is to just walk away. My fellow Legionnaires seem content to follow Tyler’s lead, and he’s not stepping in to save her, either. He risked everything for this girl once already, after all. And look where it got him.
Out here.
With us.
And so she lifts her chin, and walks forward to join her escort like she’s going to her execution.
The TDF troopers motion with their guns for us to follow.
Yeah, I don’t feel good about this at all.
11
Auri
I’m stumbling down a long hallway of burnished steel, the white-clad figure in front of me, the others in gray following behind. They walk in unison, their steps landing in the same instant on the metal grille, like soldiers on parade. I’m in the middle, messy and out of place, hurrying along to keep to their pace. My right eye is aching like there’s glass in it. I can taste my blood on my lips.
And I’m repeating Kal’s words to myself, whispered in my ear as he eased the gun out of my hand.
Go with dignity. You are more than this.
Though he spoke them like a rebuke, his words are enough to stiffen my spine. I spent years at competitions and championships, pushing myself, proving myself worthy of an Octavia berth. Now, I reach with desperation for the composure that carried me through those times, though I can feel it slipping