Starsight (The Skyward Series Book 2)

Our shuttle raced through the sky above Starsight, flying at an emergency altitude beneath the rest of the traffic.

“Vapor,” I said, “I don’t know if this is relevant to me any longer.”

“The possible appearance of a galaxy-wide threat isn’t relevant?” she asked.

“Do we know that is what happened?” I asked.

“Here, watch,” Vapor said, smelling floral at the moment.

She activated the monitor on the back of the seat in front of us. It played the emergency message—one sent by Winzik himself. “Pilots,” he said, using the most firm of hand gestures—both hands made as fists. “An enemy threatens Starsight. This is not a drill. I realize your training has been brief, but the need is dire. Report to the Weights and Measures for immediate deployment.”

“He doesn’t say it’s a delver,” I said. “It smells of politics.”

“Actually, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Vapor said.

“Listen,” I said. “Vapor, I showed myself to Cuna. My real self. The two of us decided to find a way to make peace between our peoples. I think that might be more important than whatever is happening here with Winzik.”

Vapor’s scent changed to something more akin to onions. “We’re already at peace with your people. Why would you and Cuna have to agree to that?”

“My real people. You said you know what I am. A . . . a human.”

“Yes,” Vapor said. “I put it together. Your planet, ReDawn. You’ve been hiding a human enclave there, haven’t you? They never really evacuated, but remained hidden among you. That’s why you never joined the Superiority. You’ve been worried we’d find out about the humans.”

Ooooohhhh, I thought. That was actually a reasonable guess. Utterly wrong, but more reasonable than the truth was, in many ways.

“I wondered why you used so many human expressions and mannerisms,” Vapor continued. “More than I thought was natural for your people’s supposed past. And your scent . . . you’re part human, aren’t you, Alanik? A species mix? That explains your cytonics. Humans always were very talented in that regard.”

“The reality is . . . a little less complicated than you think,” I said to Vapor. “Ask Cuna. But Vapor, I need to get back to my ship.”

“Alanik,” Vapor said, her scent going to something more like rain. “I need you right now. I’ve been assigned to watch Winzik, and I don’t think even Cuna is aware of how ambitious he is. You’re the best pilot I have, and I need you to be ready to join me. In case.”

“. . . In case what?”

“In case this isn’t about a delver. Let’s just say there are elements in the government who are very worried about Winzik’s growing power—and his access to pilots who don’t share core Superiority values.”

Again, I was caught in the middle of something I barely understood. She’s worried about a coup, isn’t she? That’s why she was assigned to become a pilot—to make sure Winzik isn’t trying to seize control of the Superiority.

Where did that leave me? I had the secret. I needed to get home with it. Nothing else mattered, did it?

I used my bracelet to open a communication to M-Bot, who should be able to hear me now that I was out of the governmental building. My reply was a quiet sound transferred via my earpiece.

Click. Clickclickclickclick . . .

Our shuttle tore along the docks, joining others that were swarming the Weights and Measures. We disembarked to an organized chaos as excited pilots climbed from shuttles and were ushered through the hallways.

I found Hesho and the kitsen hovering over the heads of the other pilots, looking agitated. “Hey!” I called to them as I passed.

Hesho zoomed in near my head. “Alanik,” he said. “What is this?”

“You know as much as I do,” I said, then bit off what I was going to say next. That was a lie. I knew way more than Hesho did. I always had.

Well, for the moment I agreed with Vapor. I needed to at least find out what Winzik was planning, as it might be relevant to the future of my people. We fell in with the other pilots. The other flights had lost a few people in training, so we were maybe forty-five instead of our initial fifty-two.

In their excitement, it seemed like far more. The guide drones led us out of the shuttle hangar. We weren’t taken to our normal jump rooms, but directly to the hangar with our fighters—which were quickly being prepped by ground crews.

Vapor swore softly. With our starfighters being prepped like this, it seemed increasingly likely that Winzik was going to use them against Starsight itself. Had I really gotten caught in the middle of a coup?

Winzik himself stepped onto a mobile ladder for climbing atop starfighters, and held up his arms to hush the group of chattering pilots.

“You are no doubt frightened,” Winzik called, his voice amplified over the ship’s speaker system. “And confused. You heard of the attack on the Weights and Measures earlier today. Well, we’ve analyzed the debris from that attack. And we found a destroyed weapon that was human in origin.”

The chamber grew profoundly silent.

Oh no, I thought.

“We have evidence,” Winzik said, “that the human threat is much greater than the high minister wishes to admit. Likely there are dozens of spy drones infiltrating Starsight. This is proof that the human scourge has begun to escape from one of its prisons. It is a festering hive of humanity that we were never given the proper authority or resources to suppress.

“Today, we will fix that. In ten minutes, this ship will hyperjump to the human planet Detritus. I want you all to be ready in your cockpits, prepared to launch the moment we arrive. Your job will be to destroy their forces. This should prove to be an excellent display of why the Superiority needs a more active and well-trained defense force.”

It was strange to see him speaking so forcefully, with curt gestures, not even a single “my, my” or stutter. As he sent the pilots to suit up, I began to understand the depth of his plotting. He had probably been building to this all along. A display of strength, using his personal space force to annihilate the “human scourge” and cement his importance.

This was what I’d feared from the beginning. I’d been training a force that would be used against my own people. I needed to find a way to stop this—to make good on the peace that Cuna and I thought we could bring.

“Excellent,” Hesho said from beside me. “Finally, they decide to do something about those humans. This is a momentous day, Captain Alanik. Today we get vengeance against those who wronged us!”

“I . . .” What should I do? I couldn’t tell him. Could I?

I lost my chance as the kitsen swooped off toward their ship. I spun around, looking for the rest of my flight. Where was Brade? I needed to talk to her.

I found Morriumur standing beside their ship, holding their helmet. Teeth bared slightly.

“Have you seen Brade?” I asked.

Morriumur shook their head.

Scud. Where was she?

“Alanik?” Morriumur asked. “Are you excited? I’m worried. Everyone looks so eager to get to their ships, but . . . this wasn’t why we trained, was it? We were supposed to stop the delvers, not go into ship-to-ship combat against experienced pilots. I need more time. I’m not ready for dogfighting . . .”

I finally spotted Brade crossing the hangar, helmet already on, the black sunshield down. I ran over and intercepted her as she reached her ship and started to climb up the ladder. She tried to ignore me, but I grabbed her arm.

“Brade,” I said. “They’re going to be sending us against your own people.”

“So?” she hissed, the sunshield preventing me from seeing her eyes.

“Don’t you care?” I demanded. “This is the last chance humans have at freedom. How can you help destroy it?”

“They . . . they’re wild humans. Dangerous.”

“Humans aren’t what the Superiority says,” I said. “I can tell that’s true after just a short time knowing you. If you join in this, you’re perpetuating a lie.”

“It . . . it will make life better for the rest of us,” she said. “If people aren’t worried about a human empire suddenly jumping out of the shadows and attacking again, then maybe the rest of us can build something worthwhile in the Superiority.”

“Can’t you hear how selfish that is? You’d sacrifice hundreds of thousands of human lives so that maybe you can live a little better?”

“What do you know about it?” Brade snapped. “You can’t possibly understand how it feels to make a decision like this.”

I can’t, can I? I pulled her down from the ladder. She let me do it, moving limply as if her confidence had been replaced with uncertainty. In the shadow of the wing of her ship—sheltered, at least a little, from everyone else—I did it again. I turned off my hologram.

“I know exactly how it feels,” I hissed at Brade. “Trust me.”

She froze, my image reflecting back at me in the surface of her sunshield as I put my hologram back up.

“I came from Detritus expecting to find only enemies and monsters,” I whispered to her. “I found you instead. Hesho, and Morriumur, and all of you. I can’t conceive how difficult it was for you growing up, but I do know what it feels like to be hated for something you never did. And let me tell you, destroying Detritus isn’t going to help. It’s just going to further convince the Superiority that they were always right about us.

“You want to change this? You want to try to fix this? Come with me back to Detritus. Tell us what you know about the Superiority and about Winzik. Help us figure out a way to prove to the people of the Superiority that we’re no threat. Winzik wins only as long as he can convince everyone that we really are an enemy they have no choice but to destroy.”

Brade hadn’t moved. She just stood there, her eyes hidden. Finally, she put her hand up to the side of her helmet, hitting the button that pulled the visor up.

Then she pulled her lips back and showed the front of her teeth—an alien expression—and gestured sharply.

“Human!” she screamed. “I’ve found the human spy!”