The Empire killed her father, but the Rebellion killed mine.
“I’ll fight her.” I know even as the words come out that I’m making a big mistake. Huge. She’s likely going to kill me.
“That’s not a good idea, Kali.” Ian looks worried. But I need training. And truthfully, we need to resolve something between us.
“We’re just going to spar,” I tell him with what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Right, Beckett?”
“Right,” she agrees, and even though we’re on different sides, we’re on exactly the same page.
But when I look into her eyes, a shiver runs through me. Because I see absolute, abject rage. It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen—because it’s personal.
Max gets to his feet and takes several steps toward me. His mouth is tight. Our gazes collide, and I shake my head at him.
The fact that he’s right there, willing to stand for me against Beckett if I ask him to, means so much to me. More to me than I ever imagined.
Rain moves to stand beside Max, a worried look in her eyes as she glances back and forth between Beckett and me. And Ian—Ian looks pissed as his gaze, too, shifts between Beckett and me. For a second, I think he’s going to pull rank as captain and refuse to let it happen. I can see that he wants to—it’s written all over his powerful face.
His gaze slams into mine so hard that it almost has me taking a step back. But if I can’t stand up to a look from him, how can I possibly expect to stand up to a full-blown attack from Beckett? So I stand my ground and put all my own frustration, my own anger, my own need to have the conflict between us over and done with, into my eyes.
It must be enough, because Ian blinks and looks away. Right before he takes a step back and gestures for us to take our places at the center of the bridge.
“Remember, this is a training exercise only,” he says as he walks toward the captain’s chair.
As my friends gather around, I know that yes, that’s true. But something more is also going to be settled today, if I have anything to do with it.
Beckett approaches slowly but gracefully. By the time she gets to me, she’s balanced on the balls of her feet.
I cast my mind for what Ian told me in our training sessions—find their weakness and piss them off.
But I’m not sure Beckett has a weakness, except for Rain. And I’m sure as fuck not going to go for her.
I move on to the balls of my feet, too, and start mirroring her movements so that we’re circling each other. She grins like she can’t wait to take a swing at me. I dance back a little bit, just in case.
Her only other weakness, as far as I can tell, is underestimating me. Except she’s not really doing that either, is she? She thinks I’m a crap fighter—and she’s absolutely right.
She moves a little closer, and I move a little farther back—and to the right. She follows me, and I do the same thing again. It’s not the most impressive move, but hey, we’ve been in a fight for a full thirty seconds and I’m not dead yet, so it can’t be all bad, either.
She lunges for me, and I let out a startled squeak as I jump back. Then immediately hate myself because she’s laughing at me now—and I don’t even blame her. Especially since I realize that was a mock attempt on her part anyway. She was just trying to shake me up.
Like I need to be more shaken up?
She moves like lightning to the left this time, and I circle just as quickly to the right. I have one second to congratulate myself for lasting another thirty seconds when she lashes out again. This time, convinced she’s just messing with me, I don’t jump back nearly as far. And she whirls, kicking out with one leg.
The next thing I know, I’m flat on my back and she’s above me, a terrifying darkness in her eyes as her knee presses into my chest.
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh.
“This is for my father. And Jarved,” she snarls, and her knee presses down even harder.
And suddenly, I’m furiously angry as well. What right does she have to think she has the monopoly on bad shit?
I go limp and close my eyes like I’m all weak and pathetic—which I am honest enough to admit that I am. I sense the moment she thinks I’ve passed out, her body relaxing, and I sweep up with my arm as hard as I can.
My fist connects with her nose, and blood spurts everywhere. Beckett actually has the gall to look slightly impressed before she lets out a bloodcurdling cry. She straddles my hips and presses my shoulders into the floor with both her hands. And I’m sure I’m going to die, but I’m still too angry to be worried. Her blood drips on my face.
“That was for my father,” I yell at her. “Your people killed him, and he didn’t deserve that. He was the best person I’ve ever known.”
At first, she doesn’t react. But then I see the moment she comes back to herself, the darkness fading from her eyes. She swings her leg over so she’s no longer on me and sits, knees bent, looking at me as though she can’t quite believe she didn’t kill me. The rage is gone, and now she just looks…sad.
I lick my lips and taste the sharp, metallic tang of blood. I’m not sure if it’s mine or hers.
“We didn’t kill your father,” she tells me as she puts her hands on either side of her nose and jerks it back into place.
“Maybe you didn’t, but the rebels did.”
“That’s what I’m saying. The rebels had nothing to do with his death.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Beckett gives me a pitying look. “Believe me—it’s not something I’d deny if we had done it. I’m not always proud of the things we do, but I never back down from admitting them. And guess what. The Rebellion did not kill your father.”
I don’t want to believe her, but there’s a ring of truth in her voice that’s hard to ignore. It’s also hard to ignore the fact that my mother has lied to me before. Is it really so hard to believe that she lied about this, too?
But if so, why? And if the Rebellion didn’t kill my father, then who did?
Chapter 53
Kali
An hour later, I’m lying in bed, drinking a glass of water, staring at the weird alien metal of the ceiling, and still trying to work out the answer to the question of my father’s death.
But I’ve got nothing. My mother sold me such a bill of goods on the Rebellion being responsible for my father’s death that I never thought to dig any deeper when I was at the palace. And now that I want to dig, I’m out here at the edge of the system with absolutely nothing to go on but the word of a rebel who wants me dead most of the time.
It sucks. Everything just sucks.
Maybe one of the other Ruling Families decided to kill my father. Or maybe it was someone within the Council—the desire for power is a dangerous thing at the best of times. In a solar system on the brink of extinction, it’s more than dangerous. It’s downright apocalyptic.
So is it such a stretch to imagine that one of the power-hungry councilors decided to do my father in? I don’t know what they would have hoped to gain from it—except to destabilize my mother so badly that they could launch a coup? If so, it didn’t work.
It’s also common knowledge that there were many within our family and the Council who were unhappy about my mother and father’s union. Maybe his death was a byproduct of that.