21. Bruticus

CHAPTER 21

brUTICUS

T he door splinters under my boot. Wood fragments scatter across the plush carpet of Daniels's office. The old man's head snaps up from his paperwork, recognition dawning in those steel-gray eyes.

"You." His hand darts toward the desk drawer.

My boot slams onto his mahogany desk. One hard shove sends both furniture and man crashing against the wall. The impact knocks medals and plaques to the floor. The sound of breaking glass punctuates Daniels's grunt of pain.

"We're going to have a little chat, Commander Daniels." The title tastes like acid on my tongue.

His face reddens as the desk edge digs into his chest. "The half-breed from the other night. Should have known you'd try again."

"Shut up." My bone spurs extend with a satisfying click. "You remember Rakura IV?"

A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. His perfectly trimmed mustache twitches. "I remember a lot of things, boy. Been serving the Alliance longer than you've been alive."

The desk creaks as I lean more weight onto it. "Then you remember ordering those hostages killed. My mother was among them."

"Casualties happen in war. Nothing personal."

My claws dig grooves into the wood. "Nothing personal? You made it personal when you murdered civilians to cover up your slave trading operation."

"Bold accusations." His voice remains steady despite the pressure on his chest. "Got any proof?"

"We're going to have a little chat about proof, Commander. And about your daughter Maryse."

His face goes slack. "Leave her out of this."

"Your daughter is the only reason I am not going to kill you." The words scrape my throat like broken glass.

His shoulders relax a fraction. "What?"

"I love her." The admission burns, but carries truth that cannot be denied. "And killing you would destroy her."

His eyes narrow. "You expect me to believe-"

"Shut up." My claws score deeper grooves in his desk. "You don't deserve her love. You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her. But she loves you, and that's the only thing keeping you alive right now."

"So what do you want?"

"Confession. Full disclosure to IHC about everything - Rakura, the slavery ring, all of it."

A bark of laughter escapes him. "You're insane."

"Maybe. But think about it - plea bargain, reduced sentence. You might even see daylight again someday." My bone spurs retract with a soft click. "Or I can break my word to Maryse and paint these walls with your blood. Your choice."

"You'd give up your revenge? Just like that?"

"Not giving it up. Trading it for justice." The words taste strange on my tongue. "Better than making Maryse cry at your funeral."

Daniels's lips curl into a smirk. "Security will be here any second. You won't live long enough to contact anyone."

"Ah, but I know something you do not, butcher." My bone spurs extend again with a satisfying click. "I was working with a partner. The Vakutan detective you feared so much. She sent me a message this morning containing all the evidence we will ever need to see you executed. If I don't contact her in the next hour, she's going to release it to the media."

The color drains from his face. His perfectly manicured mustache twitches. "You're bluffing."

"The manifest from the Rakura IV incident. The shipping logs. The account transfers. Everything." Each word drives another nail into his coffin. "Vorpa was very thorough in her investigation."

"That's impossible. We destroyed all records-"

"You destroyed the Alliance records. But the Vakutan Intelligence Service kept their own copies." A low chuckle escapes my throat. "Did you really think they wouldn't investigate the death of their citizens?"

His hands clench into fists. "Even if that's true, you'll never make it out of here alive."

"I don't need to. The truth dies with neither of us. Your empire crumbles either way."

The door bursts open. Security pours in, weapons drawn. My muscles bunch as I grip the desk. One heave sends both furniture and Daniels flying at the guards. The crash of bodies and wood drowns their shouts.

Glass shatters as I dive through the window. Wind whips my hair. Five stories of nothing but air between me and the street. The ground rushes up - metal glints - I crash through the roof of a hover taxi. Pain lances through my shoulder. The impact dents the seat beneath me.

A tinny voice chirps from the front. "Please state destination."

"Anywhere but here!" My heart pounds against my ribs.

"Unable to comply, please provide a specific destination."

Laser fire peppers the taxi's hull. Red bolts reflect off the scratched chrome finish. The droid's head swivels, unperturbed.

"Maryse's place!" The words tear from my throat.

"Insufficient data, please provide-"

My claws sink into the droid's neck joint. Metal screeches as I wrench it from the controls. Wires spark and snap. I toss the babbling heap aside and slide into the pilot's seat. The familiar hum of engines thrums through my palms as I grab the controls.

The taxi's engines whine as I slam the throttle forward. Wind whistles through the broken roof as we rocket between the gleaming towers. Red warning lights flash across the dashboard - this civilian craft isn't meant for combat maneuvers.

Three security skimmers drop into formation behind me, their weapon ports glowing hot.

"Target acquired. Power down your vehicle immediately."

I bank hard right, scraping paint off a cargo hauler. The security skimmers follow, their superior engines closing the gap.

A maintenance tunnel looms ahead - barely wide enough for the taxi. Perfect.

The taxi screams in protest as I force it sideways. Sparks shower from both walls as we thread the needle. One security skimmer tries to follow and clips its wing. The resulting explosion lights up my rear view.

Two left.

The tunnel opens into Hydroponics Dome Three. Rows of vertical farms stretch toward the artificial sky. I weave between the towers of green, scattering terrified workers.

"All units converge on target. Do not let him escape."

More skimmers join the pursuit. Their shots come closer, scoring black marks across my taxi's hull. The whole frame shudders - one more direct hit and I'm done.

I spot my chance - a maintenance shaft leading to the station's outer skin. The security forces would never expect...

The taxi plunges into darkness. Warning klaxons blare as we enter vacuum-rated territory. The pursuing skimmers hesitate at the threshold, giving me precious seconds.

One sharp turn, then another. The taxi's nav system fails completely but I don't need it. All maintenance shafts lead to the same place.

We burst into the starlit expanse of a ship graveyard - derelict hulks waiting to be scrapped. I kill the engines and let momentum carry us into the hollow corpse of an ancient freighter.

The security skimmers streak past, their sensors confused by all the metal. Their frustrated chatter fades as they continue the search in the wrong direction.

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Time to ditch this ride and disappear into the station's shadows.