Emma

EMMA

My heart pounded as I pried the rusted ventilation cover off with trembling fingers. Getting back into the compound after my night was easier than expected.

I guess all that time meekly following orders meant that people didn't look twice at me, just assumed I was on a legitimate errand.

After the rush of morning chores and then serving lunch, I barely managed to slip away unnoticed to investigate the shaft I spotted yesterday in the pantry. Now I had to move swiftly before the chef or anyone else realized I was gone.

The gaping dark tunnel loomed before me, just big enough to crawl through if I squeezed. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. Getting caught in these restricted ducts meant severe punishment. But the risk would be worth it if I could access Conii's office undetected.

Hoisting myself up, I wriggled into the claustrophobic passageway. The metal walls pressed in oppressively as I dragged myself forward on elbows and knees. My coveralls provided scant protection from the grimy floor.

Up ahead, a faint echo of voices drifted through the shaft. I paused, holding my breath, but the words were indistinguishable. After a tense moment, the sound faded again. I continued my slow advance, ears straining for any other activity.

The duct angled upward and I scrambled awkwardly over the incline. Ahead, it split into two branches. I wracked my brain trying to visualize the building layout and choose the correct path. Conii's office had to be to the right. I hoped.

The further I crawled, the clearer the voices became again. This time, I could make out a few disjointed phrases.

"...can't believe she expects..."

"...more than we're paid for..."

Guards. Had to be. Meaning I was getting close. Renewed excitement quickened my pace, heedless of the noise I made now. My goal lay just ahead.

Too late, I heard the approaching stomp of footsteps from around a bend up ahead. I froze, but there was nowhere to hide in the exposed shaft. Mere seconds later, a helmeted head appeared in my path.

"Hey!" The Nazok guard's shocked face quickly morphed into anger. "What are you doing in here, human?"

Panic screamed through me but I forced myself to meet his glare steadily. "Just assessing the duct integrity per Conii's orders," I lied, praying my voice didn't shake and pulling at the cleaning apron I wore. "She wants them all inspected for faults."

The guard's eyes narrowed, trying to determine if my claim was legitimate. I held my breath, knowing my life likely hung in the balance of his decision.

After an agonizing pause, he huffed in annoyance. "No one tells us anything around here," he grumbled. "Fine, but make it quick. And no snooping around!"

With that, he turned and receded down the duct, evidently believing my ruse. I sagged in relief as his footfalls faded. That was far too close. I would have to proceed with greater caution.

Edging around the corner, I saw the shaft end ahead at a vent cover. Holding perfectly still, I listened intently but heard nothing beyond. Conii's office must lay just on the other side.

It was time.

Slowly, carefully I pried the cover off with the paring knife I grabbed from the pantry.

No wonder she's taking over half the space station from here.

The size of the room alone spoke to her wealth and status on the station. It was larger than most living quarters, with vaulted ceilings that soared high above.

Her desk appeared carved from a single massive kauri tree imported at astronomical expense from a distant forest world.

The surfaces were adorned with artifacts from across the known galaxies—bejeweled daggers from Tarkai, jewel-toned Mondian glass sculptures, ornate tapestries from far-flung human colonies.

In the seating area, the chairs were upholstered in luxurious vrax leather, dyed in vibrant hues. The low table looked to be carved from ivory-hued fossilstone mined from the quarries of Alton V.

As a stark contrast to the finery, the computer interface sat utilitarian upon the desk. It was a standard station model, as impersonal as the pre-fab metal walls of the lowest decks. But it contained the secrets I desperately needed.

I tapped the pad of the computer, and the screen turned on, requesting a password.

It was tempting to try to figure this out by myself. Would Conii have chosen something random, or used the act of typing her password as a ritual, a reminder of something she loved?

But Taz was right. I needed to get out of here as quickly as possible.

With a breath of gratitude, I slid the thin slip of metal that he gave me out from my apron pocket and into the port, watching the flickering lights as it worked.

I put my elbows on the desk and rubbed my temples with my hands while watching the screen.

What would it be? What would it tell me about the way Conii's mind worked?

A quick flash, and the password appeared.

Alkard7264.

My jaw dropped, and I smirked before frowning. That was a little creepy and obsessive for her to have her greatest enemy's name as her password, but it made sense.

What was most important to Conii? Power. What was the one person who stood in the way of that power?

Alkard.

But what was the string of numbers about?

Right now, it didn't matter. I had a job to do.

I scrolled through the files, desperately searching for anything that looked promising.

They ranged from operations to personal photos. Each operation folder had a different code name, but none of them seemed like what I was looking for until I found a folder titled Deathgate. Perfect.

I pulled out my percomm and downloaded the file to it, tapping my foot anxiously on the ground while waiting and staring out at the stars. It wasn't only that I was nervous about getting caught; I was anxious to get back to Taz.

When I was with him, my mind was clear. I had no lingering thoughts or repetitive numbers rushing through my mind. I was able to be fully present with him, something that was still becoming familiar.

He was loving and caring, whether he believed it or not. I was determined to prove that he was, so he could see himself in the same light I did. But first, I had to get that download.

Complete. The computer almost screamed the words at me with a loud noise signaling the finishing percentage. I quickly pulled my percomm out of the side of it and closed all the windows I opened. I even went back in the history of the computer and ensured the recent activity from what I searched through was cleared.

I shut the computer and stood up, taking one last look at the broad galaxy before shoving the percomm into my pocket and crawling back into the ventilation shaft. Carefully, I worked the cover back into place, and then retraced my path back to the pantry.

But as I emerged, strong hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me aside. What is Tazhr doing here?

When I was slammed against the wall so hard my head felt dizzy, I realized it wasn't Taz. When my vision stabilized, I saw it was the chef standing before me, holding me tightly against the wall.

He shook his head. "I always knew you were no good."

"I-I was just…"

"What? What could you possibly need to do in there?" He chuckled and shook his head again. "When she gets back, I'm going to get a great reward for turning you in." He moved one of his hands to my neck and pressed it against the wall aggressively. "Conii hates nothing more than a rat."

"I'm just cleaning," I coughed, trying to get any breath I could. "What else would I be doing?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," he growled before digging in the pocket of my apron for my percomm, holding me by my neck while scrolling through it. I tried to wiggle out of his grip and smack him, but he was too tall and heavy for me to deter.

"Deathgate, huh?" he asked while waving the percomm at me. His eyes narrowed into a glare, and he leaned in close to my face. "Who the fuck are you working for?"

"No one! Nothing!" I stammered gasping for my next breath.

This wasn't good. This was past not-good. Logic and deductive reasoning weren't going to get me out of this.

But another skill I learned from my past back on Earth might.

With all my might I kicked him, the tip of my shoe catching him squarely in the crotch.

He stumbled back, throwing me to the floor hard enough that my vision swam.

"You little bitch!" he roared, then his fist swung down at me.

Panicked, I scrambled backwards on my butt until I cowered beneath him, pressed against the wall.

And there was something else, something hard against the small of my back.

The mini-blaster.

Grabbing it, I waved it in front of me wildly. "Stay back!" I tried to be brave, to be fierce, but my voice wasn't even a whisper.

"What are you going to do with that?" the chef sneered. "Pitiful little human like you can't even hold a weapon straight."

He was right.

I never held anything like a gun before. Had never wanted to.

But he didn't leave me much choice.

Hunching my shoulders, I raised the blaster, aiming for his leg. "I don't want to hurt you!" I cried.

Laughing, he lunged towards me, his face twisted into cruel amusement.

And I fired.

Before I even fully caught my breath, his body fell to the ground next to me with wide-open eyes, dark blue blood pooling out from a terrible hole in his thigh as his eyes glazed over, my percomm crashing into the far wall as he spasmed.

My breathing slowed, but my heart rate increased drastically. My mind was blank. I don't know how long I laid there staring at him until I got to my knees and felt for his pulse.

Oh, no. Oh, seven galaxies, no. He can't be dead. Please don't be dead.

But there was no denying it.

I sat back on my knees and looked at my bloody hands, trembling much more than before I went into Conii's office.

I killed him. I'm a killer. I've killed a being on Thodos III. I'm a murderer.

I wanted to vomit. Moreover, I wanted to cry. I was so overwhelmed and immediately thought of the consequences of my actions. I wasn't afraid of getting in trouble with any Enforcers, the act would be considered self-defense if it was told truthfully, and I took pictures of my wounds, which I planned to do just in case. I was more terrified of what Conii or her hitmen would do if they figured out it was me who killed him.

Should I hide the body? Should I clean off his hands? What about my hands? Anything I touch will be smeared in his blood.

I picked up my percomm and the gun and jammed them into my pockets. I probably stood there for another few minutes, just looking at the soulless body on the ground. Granted, he was an asshole, but still, I committed murder.

It said more about me than him, even if it was self-defense. I couldn't even recognize myself at that point. The only thing I knew for sure was that I had to run.

Before I could make my escape, I had to clean up. There was no way I could have made it to Realta with the clothes I had on and blood on my hands without others noticing. I fled to my room and ripped off my clothes before rushing to the sink and washing my hands, ensuring I got every drop of his blood off my fingers.

When I was done, I pulled on a new shirt and pants before glancing around at the room I called home for so long. It was unlikely I would ever return.

My eyes shifted to the books on my shelf, and I looked at all the Sherlock Holmes titles I managed to collect over the years, wondering if I would ever see them again. Then, my eyes got caught on one book in particular, one with pages facing the outside of the shelf.

Deathgate.

I walked over to it and knelt down before pulling it out and holding it for a moment. I barely had time to skim the book. I just wanted to get a better understanding of what was going on, and reading about it was my first instinct.

I held the book in my hands, feeling like I knew what Deathgate was. It was an alien substitute for what humans used to call hell when we lived on Earth. It was a way of replicating the terror that came from the notion we used to hold onto.

Taz's Vinduthi brother was locked in hell, and killing that chef was a part of the equation to free him from it. He wanted our help. He needed our help.

But still, I didn't want to kill anyone.

Those thoughts were what propelled me forward. Before I knew it, I was out of the front door of Conii's quarters, dashing like a madman through the streets. I darted in the direction of Realta, desperate to be with Tazhr.

He would hold me, help me.

He would know what to do.

As my feet carried me far from the scene of the murder, one thought kept repeating in my mind, strange and terrifying.

My life just changed forever.