I just hope I have the strength to do it.
Chapter 66
Kali
I wait until Rain has fallen asleep, and then I creep out of our room and down the hall to the bridge. It’s the dead of night, and everyone is sleeping except me—and, I hope, Beckett. I really need to speak with her.
Thankfully, she’s sitting in her pilot’s chair, per usual, munching on a protein bar and doing something I can’t quite make out on the screen in front of her.
“Hey,” I say from the door in an attempt not to startle her. She’s jumpy at the best of times—for obvious reasons—and we’ve all learned it’s better to give her a warning than end up at the business end of whatever object she turns into a weapon when she’s startled.
She stiffens, but she doesn’t reach for anything to throw at me, so I’ll consider it a win. “What are you doing here?” she demands. I can tell she tried to inject her tone with the same vitriol she usually has when she speaks to me, but it just isn’t there. I think I’m growing on her like one of the fungi from Ellindan.
“I was hoping to speak with you. I have a favor to ask.” I cross the bridge, and she rushes to close her screen, but not before I see what’s on it. “Are you playing stirobi? Against who?”
“You’re sure asking a lot of questions for someone who wants a favor,” she snarls before leaning back in her chair and kicking her feet up on the console in front of her.
I sit down in the chair next to her. “It’s a game. I didn’t realize the answer was top secret.”
“I’m playing against the Starlight. She always wins, but I’m getting better.” She takes a big bite of her protein bar and gives me an are-you-happy-now look. “So what do you want? I thought you’d be off boning the captain and his other half or something.”
“Wow, classy.” I roll my eyes as she laughs.
“Yep, that’s me.” She takes a swig of water. “So lay this favor on me so I can tell you no and you can get the fuck off my bridge.”
“You know, Beckett, the thing I’m going to miss the most about being on this ship is your incredible graciousness. It’s always so heartwarming.”
“Yeah, well—” she starts, then freezes. “Going to miss?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Are we close to anywhere with a breathable atmosphere?”
She narrows her eyes. “Define close.”
“Under three hours away from?” I’d like to get this done before anybody else wakes up.
For several seconds, she just stares at me. Not like she’s in shock—like she’s trying to figure out if I’m for real. Whatever she sees in my face must convince her that I am serious, because she doesn’t say another word. She just turns back to the Starlight and presses some buttons.
Seconds later, a huge map of the system around us comes up on the viewing screens. “Turns out we’re about two hours away from one of Glacea’s outer moons and about four hours from another.” She gestures to their relative positions on the screens.
“Is there anything on the closest moon?” I ask.
“Not a lot. But it is a military outpost, so you shouldn’t have any problems finding a ride home—if that’s where you’re planning on going.”
“It is.”
“I figured.” She fiddles with the Starlight’s controls for a few seconds. “You want me to set course for it?”
Do I want her to? Not even a little bit. Am I going to have her do it anyway? “Yes, please.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just enters the coordinates of the moon and then, after another long glance my way, goes back to playing her game.
It’s why I asked for her help. She’s the only one on board, besides maybe Merrick, who won’t try to talk me out of this. And since I really, really don’t want to leave, I’m afraid it won’t be that hard to convince me not to—especially if Ian is the one doing the convincing.
We sit in silence for over an hour, Beckett playing her game and me using the paper I found in the storage bay to write out a message to Ian, trying to explain to him what I barely understand myself.
“He’s going to be pissed. You know that, right?” Beckett says as Glacea’s moon fills up the screen in front of us.
“Better angry than dead,” I answer. It’s what I need to hear, too, to get rid of the ball of tension in my stomach and the index of regrets in my head. Because I’d rather everyone on board be angry instead of dead—even Beckett—and if there’s any way I can save them, I have to take it.
“You really think your mother was telling the truth?” she asks. Coming from anyone else, her tone would be one of total boredom, but for Beckett, any mild interest is the equivalent of burning curiosity.
“About the assassination attempts being aimed at me? I do,” I tell her. “It never felt right it could be the Corporation—they’re really just all about profits and my family keeps them profitable. The Sisterhood would never risk harming their high priestess by shooting us down. It can’t be the rebels; you’ve already vouched for them. And I trust you.”
She lifts a brow at that but doesn’t say anything.
I shove a shaking hand through my hair, because saying it out loud just makes me even more convinced. “The Empire is the only other entity with the money to command that many ships and the reach to distribute all those flyers. If you disagree, I’m all ears. But I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and nothing else makes sense to me.”
“Me either, but this way I can tell Ian I tried to change your mind.”
I give her a rueful grin. “Saving your own skin, huh?”
“No one else is going to,” she answers with a shrug.
She’s not wrong, except— “That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Beckett. I’m not just leaving because of Ian, you know. I’m leaving because of all of you.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, but she does turn back to the console and start fidgeting with some of the switches there, a surefire sign that she’s uncomfortable. Which is fair, but it doesn’t stop me from telling her, “There’s something else I want to say to you. I hope you don’t mind.”
She shrugs, but her hands still and it almost seems like she’s holding her breath.
I try to get my thoughts in order because I’ll only have one chance to say what needs to be said. “In my time on the Starlight, I don’t think it’s any secret that we’ve had massively separate agendas. And while we were born on very different sides of the conflict currently rocking Senestris, I need you to know that I’m sorry. The crown princess of the Empire that has abused you and hurt you and done you very wrong is sorry. You should never have been treated how you were treated. You should never have had to suffer what you’ve suffered. And I promise you that I will spend every day that I’m alive while my family is in power working to make sure that no one suffers at our hands ever again the way that you have.”
A powerful shudder runs through her too-thin body, and she bows her head so that her black curls cover her face. Another shudder, followed by one harsh, indrawn breath. And then she whispers, “I’m glad I didn’t try as hard as I could have to kill you.”