not recognize my voice, Jorg? Has it truly been that long?”
Jorg stared at him, his lips parted. Rache’s men exchanged quick glances with each other, though they remained focused on the crushers.
The crushers did not react to anything the men said.
“I don’t care who you are,” Jorg said. “You are a criminal. That’s all that matters. And I am not decorative. I am my father’s heir. One day, I will be king.”
“Not if you don’t get off this ship alive,” Rache said, his tone turning to ice. “Even if you do, someone else will assassinate you. You accuse me of being a coward, but you are standing there behind the robots someone else made to protect the Kingdom. They weren’t meant to protect a spoiled brat who had to cheat to pass the knight’s exams. Did your father ever find out about that, Jorg?”
Bonita expected a righteous denial from Jorg, but the prince’s face grew a few shades paler.
“Did Baron Farley ever find out?” Rache went on. “That you blackmailed one of the administrators for a copy of the math portion because you knew you wouldn’t pass? And that the administrator, a former knight himself, took his life afterward, because he believed he’d broken the Code? Did anyone else ever find out what a bastard you are, Jorg?”
“None of that is true,” Jorg finally managed to snarl after a long stunned silence. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Whoever told you those things was trying to besmirch my honor. As if you would know anything about honor. You’re a wart on the face of humanity.”
“Then come out here and test yourself against me and show everyone your honor. Fight me one on one as a knight would. If you’re not afraid.”
What is he trying to do? Qin messaged to Bonita. Why don’t Rache’s men just fight them all?
Goad Jorg into attacking. Or challenging him to a duel. Hell if I know. Bonita shook her head. His men probably don’t know if they can win against that many crushers. Just hold still. They’re not paying attention to us, and Bjarke should be here any minute.
“I’d be foolish to fight you, coward,” Jorg said. “You’ll play some trick and run and hide.”
“The only trick I ever played on you was to make you believe I was dead.” Rache lifted his hand and beckoned to Jorg, inviting him to come fight. “I took my exams at the same time you did. And I was there when you blackmailed old Oskar.”
Jorg shook his head. “Impossible. You are not…” He licked his lips and glanced at his men, the few humans in armor.
“I am.” Rache beckoned again. “The ward your father had created to lead his armies because he knew he couldn’t count on his own children to be smart enough or strong enough for the job.”
Anger boiled in Jorg’s eyes. “David Lichtenberg is dead! My father would have told me if he weren’t. I don’t know how you got this information but—”
“Your father wouldn’t have told you anything. You’re weak and not fit to rule after him. Not now. Maybe he sent you out here to prove yourself. Did it really have anything to do with proposing to a woman—a woman who rejected you and chose a lowly commoner—” Rache laughed shortly, “—or did he have this all planned and know you’d end up in charge? Tell me, Jorg. Did he say this was your chance to prove yourself? I know he’s big into that.”
“You don’t know anything, you murdering asshole.” Jorg hefted his pertundo and ran across the deck, almost sending himself floating off it because he ran too quickly for his magnetic soles to catch. “Get the mercenaries, crushers. But leave Rache to me. I will prove myself. I will kill you, and my father will know I’m his deserving heir.”
Bonita looked at Qin. I feel like we came in at Act Three.
Yeah, I have no idea what’s happening, Captain.
Metal rang out as Rache caught Jorg’s pertundo with the shaft of his rifle. His mercenaries surged toward the crushers, who sprang to attack them. The Kingdom soldiers took cover behind the ship’s ramp and fired. They might have ignored the prince’s orders and fired at Rache, but Jorg was in their way. The two men grappled instead of trying to shoot each other, and soon, they tumbled away from the deck, wrestling in zero-g.
Bonita, Bjarke’s words came across her contact. We’re coming into the airlock on the right.
You better hurry. I