3. Calder

Idrop Elodie off in front of the eyesore that is Onel Tower and race down the speedways to the Juventus Sector. My thoughts are jumbled as I navigate the crowded streets. I’m experienced. Well-trained. I thought I could handle anything that Onel Corporation threw at me.

That was before I met Elodie.

Stars.Six months, and I’m obsessed with her. The deep brown color of her eyes. Her bow-shaped lips and the rich, glossy shine of her hair. The delicate metal chain she wears around her neck. I want to grab that chain, yank her close, kiss her lips, and watch lust bloom in her eyes.

But I can’t. I’m here on a mission, and that takes priority.

Besides, something tells me that Elodie doesn’t do temporary, and temporary is all I have to offer.

She looked surprised this morning when I shared my breakfast. I’ve shared my food with her dozens of times in the last six months, and every single time, she looks surprised and grateful. I shake my head wryly. If Elodie went out more, she’d realize that men would line up to throw themselves at her. She’s smart, beautiful, and genuinely kind, the type of woman you take home to meet your family.

Enola would like her a lot.

Am I selfishly glad she doesn’t go out more? Yes.

Did I enjoy having her arms wrapped around my waist on the speeder ride over? Also yes.

Did I take some turns faster to get her to hold me tight? Guilty. Guilty as fuck.

The Juventus Sector looms before me, all dark towers and narrow streets. The Aztec Sector is supposedly unsafe, though I’ve never found it so. Juventus, on the other hand, comes by its reputation honestly. The windows on the towers are broken, and the exterior is stained with blood. Every three years, when it’s time for an election, the government in charge rolls in and announces they’re going to clean up Juventus. The gangs pause their operations while the authorities busy themselves with replacing the windows and painting the walls. Post-election, the interest fades, and the funding dries up. The gangs move back in, and the cycle starts all over again.

Yesterday, I got ambushed in the Aztec Sector. A gang of six Karven jumped me. Low-level implants, nothing I couldn’t handle. I was about to take them on when the leader identified himself with a covert KSF hand sign.

So I pulled my punches, got my ass handed to me, and learned that somebody would be waiting for me in the Juventus Sector. The gang leader must have been under instructions to make the beating look convincing because his crew really worked me over.

Raz probably thinks it’s hilarious.

I’m not going to lie—it bloody hurt. Though it had been worth it to see the look of concern in Elodie’s eyes this morning.

I spend a pleasant few minutes lost in a daydream. One that starts with Elodie stroking my skin under the pretext of attending to my wounds and ends with both of us naked, sweaty, and sated.

I have got to stop this. Nothing can happen between Elodie and me. Our relationship is built on a lie. When she vents about her workplace politics in the evenings, I’m not listening because I’m a supportive podmate. I’m using her to gather information on the Onel Corporation. I planted a bug on Jarel Onel, and I’ve become friendly with her coworkers. When I drop her off, I scan the conversations taking place in the building. When the truth comes out, she will never forgive me for abusing her trust.

I’m yanked out of my fantasies when a young boy jumps into the pathway of my speeder. Swearing out loud, I slam on the brakes so I don’t hit him. Luca. Should have guessed. “You’re going to get run over one of these days, kid.”

Luca is nine and orphaned, his parents casualties of war. He was assigned a family on Harte, but for reasons he refuses to discuss, he ran away with his five-year-old sister to live in Juventus. He earns credits as a lookout for Crown, one of the three gangs controlling this sector.

He’s made it three months but won’t last the year. Children don’t survive in Juventus. It’s tempting to rage at the refugee placement office that put Luca and his sister in a situation where they had to run away and the social worker who lost track of two young children. But it’s hard to blame Harte. Every year, more than a million refugees arrive from the Crill Empire, fleeing the forced conscriptions and the mandatory military service, and Harte shelters them without complaint. No, the blame for this situation rests entirely on the Crill High Command and their crusade to rid the universe of the Karven.

“Hey, Blaze,” Luca says breathlessly. “You going to Cage? Can you give me a ride? I have a message for Darius.”

Cage is an underground fight club in the heart of the sector. It’s also where Ranar Astrini, the KSF agent I report to, works. I needed an excuse to be there, so I signed up as a grunt fighter. Blaze is my stage name.

The fight club is currently controlled by Choke, a rival gang. Luca’s been told to head into enemy territory, and he’s asking for my protection.

Poor kid.

“Jump on,” I tell him. “Who asked you to take a message to Darius?”

“Lynch.”

“Hmm.” Looks like I’ll be having a talk with the Crown second-in-command about taking better care of his people.

I kick the speeder to life and weave through the labyrinth of streets. In less than ten minutes, I pull up at my destination. I slip Luca a hundred credits—the kid is too skinny for his own good—and swagger into the club.

Cage reeks of blood, sweat, and adrenaline. In the nearest ring, a heavily tattooed eight-foot-tall woman fights a trio of saber-tooth tigers, predators from a bygone time. As we walk past, she picks one of the animals up and flings it against the transparent wall. The giant cat bounces off, snarls in rage, and throws itself at the woman again. A screen in the top corner shows how many viewers are tuned in. Most citizens of Harte don’t dare enter Juventus to attend a fight live, but they’re happy to watch her risk her life from the safety of their pods.

The tigers have drawn almost half a million viewers. Not bad for a secondary fight on a Monday morning.

“Blaze!” a woman’s voice calls out.

Deandra.

Great.

Deandra Siffi is Cage’s manager. I wait for her to approach. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says, wrapping her arm around my waist and dragging me past the smaller fights toward the main ring. “I have a fight lined up for you.”

“I fight tomorrow, not today.”

“Change of plan. We just signed a new fighter, a Crill Centurion. I have him booked for Saturday’s prime slot, but before that, I want him in a couple of warmup fights.”

Centurions are Crill super soldiers. They’re amped up on serum and armored with an exosuit. In theory, they’re impossible to beat in a one-on-one fight, even for the Karven.

In theory.

The club manager gives me a persuasive look. “I’ll level with you, Blaze. Yes, you’re gonna get beat, but it won’t be too bad. I’ve told Bull to go easy on you.”

His name is Bull? I resist the urge to roll my eyes. As for him needing to go easy on me, every single member of Rogue Squadron can bring down a Centurion. I took down my first when I was nineteen. Not that I can do any such thing today, not unless I want Raz to have an aneurysm.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Deandra finishes. “Triple pay.”

I’m about to tell her I’m not interested when I spot a familiar face in the crowds. Finn Tusk. I immediately go on high alert. Tusk is a veteran KSF officer. He’s whip-smart and terrifyingly competent. If Tusk is here instead of Ranar, it’s not good news.

The quietest place for us to talk is the club steam room, which I’ll use after my fight.

Damn it. Guess I’m getting pummeled again.

Deandra setsup the fight with characteristic efficiency. I warm up for twenty minutes, then enter the main fight ring. The announcer introduces me, and there’s some lukewarm applause from the crowd, along with some catcalls. Par for the course if you’re a grunt fighter.

Then the lights dim as the announcer prepares to introduce the Crill Centurion.

“Citizens of Harte, stepping up to challenge Blaze is the Crusher of Senshe, the Destroyer of Dratha, the Predator of the Broken, Centurion of the Crill Empire. . .” The announcer’s voice rises to a fever pitch. “The one and only. . . Bull!”

The Centurion strides into the ring, bristling with anger, testosterone, and whatever cocktail of drugs the Empire pumps into their soldiers. The crowd roars its approval. I’m less impressed. Senshe is a farming station crewed by drones, Dratha is a glorified comm array, and the Crill High Command doesn’t let valuable soldiers fight in underground clubs. Just stupid ones.

I fully intend to throw the fight. Until I look around and see that Luca has somehow wriggled his way to the front of the rails and is looking at Bull with big, worried eyes.

A little too worried. Luca’s seen me fight. He knows I heal quickly. Why is he freaking out? He didn’t do anything stupid, did he? Like?—

I hack into Cage’s system and scroll through the bets placed on my fight, and damn it, the kid bet on me. A hundred credits—the money I gave him to buy food—and at five-hundred-to-one odds.

Fifty thousand credits will completely change Luca’s life. He can rent a pod in a safer sector, and he and his sister will never go hungry again.

“You can do it, Blaze,” the kid calls out, stars in his eyes. “I believe in you.”

Damn it all to hell.

So, doing my best to make it look like a happy fluke, I take down the Centurion.

Raz is going to kill me.

Finn findsme in the steam room. “You were late getting to Cage.”

Well, it was either going to be a lecture about how I shouldn’t have won the fight or this. “Elodie needed a ride to work.” I smile, thinking about how she clung to me on the speeder ride.

He catches my expression and makes a disgusted sound. “For fuck’s sake,” he says. “Please don’t tell me you’re falling for this woman.”

I’ve known Tusk almost as long as I’ve known Raz, and I can’t resist needling him. “I didn’t have you pegged as a woman-hater, Finn.”

“I don’t hate women,” he responds coolly. “They’re simply a distraction I can’t afford. Back to the topic at hand. We’ve received some intel. General Goron Demarcu and General Felicia Fenel from the Crill High Command will be in Luxaria at the end of the week. Same time as Jarel Onel. We think this means?—”

“That the Crill are shopping for weapons,” I say, adrenaline spiking through me. “Things are moving then.”

Finally.I’ve been sitting around on my ass long enough, attending Onel mixers and feeding Raz workplace gossip. I was a soldier before I was a spy. I’ve been itching to act, and it’s finally time.

“They are,” Finn confirms grimly. “You need to get to Luxaria and stop the sale. Preserve the weapons if you can; destroy them otherwise. If possible, figure out who the weapons maker is.”

“Is that all?” I ask sarcastically. Raz is keeping this very quiet. He must want the weapons maker badly enough to risk sending me in alone.

“Stop whining,” Finn says, rising to leave. “By the way, what the hell was with that fight? Are you trying to blow your cover?”

The fight. Shit. Luca will need protection getting out of Juventus, and I can’t risk talking to him myself. I won when everyone expected me to lose, and Cage’s betmaker had to pay out fifty thousand credits. Deandra’s going to be pissed. The last thing I want to do is draw more attention to the boy. “There was a kid in the crowds during my fight.”

He scans his memory. “Skinny runt? Faded shirt, torn shoes, looks like he’s never seen the inside of a shower?”

“Luca is nine. It’s just him and his sister. His five-year-old sister. He bet on the fight. A hundred credits, at five-hundred-to-one odds.”

Finn’s not stupid. I don’t have to say anything else. “I understand,” he says, giving me a long look. “It was still a mistake.” He turns toward the door. “I’ll make sure they’re fine.”

“Thank you.”

As I drive back to my pod, the adrenaline dies down, and the thoughts I’ve been trying to keep buried since Finn told me about the meeting between Onel and the Crill Generals resurface. My interlude in Harte is coming to an end.

Which means no more breakfasts with Elodie. No more speeder rides through the streets. In a few short days, I’ll leave Harte.

And I’ll never see Elodie again.