Chapter 23

LEONA

I awake to a faint shudder that courses through the worldship. Sitting up in bed, I listen carefully, but the steady hum that accompanies hyperdrive travel is absent. Hm. We must've left hyperdrive for some reason.

Perhaps the Darrvasons need to alter course again, like they did after supposedly discovering 58-Zallnanis, the planet they believe will be suitable for us to settle upon—a rumor I heard just yesterday that I suspect might be true.

Like I do every morning when I first awake, I try to contact Zahhn. But no matter how hard I concentrate as I reach out to him, there's no response. I chide myself for my original plan to hide my ability to hear his thoughts. I would give almost anything just to hear his voice one more time. Not because I want to become his mate—I've accepted it would be a mistake, and though I'm loath to admit my father might be correct, it's probably true that I would be miserable living as a Darrvason bride—but because I want to ensure he's okay. That he hasn't been taken out by the virus.

A glance at the clock shows I'm running late. Shit. I forgot to set my alarm. I quickly get dressed and depart my bedroom. Relief spreads through me to find I'm alone.

I've only seen my father in passing since our last tense conversation, and he hasn't spoken a word to me. He's glared and grunted, but nothing more. I can sense his disappointment, and I hate that it guts me. I hate that I want his approval even though he's clearly lacking in morals.

Yeah, okay, I know why I want his approval. Because I've witnessed many of my friends grow up with loving fathers who delighted in spending time with them. I never had that, and I didn't realize until I was about eight years old that my dad wasn't like most fathers.

I cringe as I remember the years-long phase I went through during which I tried anything and everything to garner his attention and please him. But nothing worked, and it would appear now the only thing that would please him would be if I helped his rebel cause.

A cause that he hopes will result in the death of thousands of Darrvasons.

I haven't tracked down Officer Brute yet, nor have I seen Jenny lately. I resolve that I'll find the alien security officer today, even if I must approach a random Darrvason engineer and inquire about his whereabouts.

As I depart my quarters, I notice a flurry of activity in the corridor. Dozens of people race by me, heading in the direction of an alcove. Curious foreboding fills me, and I find myself following the crowd.

My stomach drops to the floor when I finally glimpse what everyone is looking at. Though Deck Eleven's alcove is quite small, it's large enough to provide a view of what's going on. I swallow past the burning dryness in my throat.

Just as I suspected, we're no longer in a shared hyperdrive bubble. But something's not right. Most of the outer lights on all the Darrvason ships are not illuminated as they usually are.

Then it happens. A red beam shoots from the Jansonna toward the Haxxal . It makes impact and the alien ship rocks. My eyes widen. A few seconds later, another red beam hits the Haxxal .

"What the fuck is happening?" I whisper.

Suddenly, someone races down the corridor holding a blaster, and it's not a security officer. I recognize him as an engineer named Seth, an older man who's worked with my father for years. He holds the blaster high with a grin and runs faster. "To hell with the alliance!" he shouts.

More men follow him, though they are less enthusiastic. I reel with shock when I glimpse my father among them. He makes eye contact with me, but his expression isn't kind. A chill rushes down my back.

Where are they going? What are they planning?

The group of armed men board an elevator.

"Holy shit," a bystander says. "Look! Shuttles. They're leaving our docking bay. Looks like about a dozen of them, and they're headed for the Haxxal ."

"Has to be rebels," a young woman says. "The command team wouldn't be stupid enough to attack the Darrvasons. The aliens haven't finished making repairs to our ship yet, nor have they guided us to a habitable planet."

I watch the shuttles zip toward the Haxxal and enter the lead alien vessel's docking bay. No no no. This can't be happening.

Then it hits me. The virus. The virus was likely deployed in order to weaken the aliens. Surely the Darrvasons possess weapons better than blasters that they could use against my people. But if they are sick and dying, humans will have a better chance at victory.

I feel sick to my stomach.

Zahhn. Zahhn, please answer me.

There's no response.

"Hey! The outer lights on the Haxxal just came back on!" someone shouts.

"Oh my God!" cries a young boy. "I think they're powering up weapons. Look right there. Do you see?—"

A red beam emits from the Haxxal and strikes the Jansonna . The worldship rocks and the lights flicker. I lean against the wall to steady myself as a screeching static noise comes over the ship's speakers, and the multiple info screens lining the corridor suddenly flash blue.

I approach the nearest info screen and gasp when Captain Warren appears, and Officer Brute is standing with him. The captain is shaking, and Officer Brute abruptly grabs him by the scruff of his neck. Both males stare into the camera.

"Attention citizens of the Jansonna ," Captain Warren says in a trembling voice. Perspiration trickles down his temple, and he pales further and winces. "Several minutes ago, a group of rebels launched an unprovoked attack on the Darrvason Empire. The attack has been thwarted and all the rebels who boarded the Haxxal are now dead. All two hundred of them. To demonstrate my horror over this most egregious attack, I have surrendered control of the Jansonna to Security Officer Brute. Please do not be alarmed. This is a temporary measure to ensure the peaceful continuation of the Darrvason-human alliance."

Officer Brute straightens and glares into the camera. "Effective immediately," he says, "there is a shelter-in-place order. If you are in the corridors, return to your quarters, a recreation room, or a mess hall—whichever location is nearest to you. Please rest assured that no human females aboard the Haxxal were harmed in any way during the attack. More information will be forthcoming as we investigate the rebel threat to the Darrvason Empire."

The screen goes blank, and there's a collective gasp in the corridor. For a few seconds, no one moves. We all exchange horrified glances. But eventually, several people take off down the corridor, and soon the entire group is dispersing.

I stand in front of the alcove, trying to decide whether to rush to the mess hall where I work or return to my quarters. If I go to the mess hall, I'll be among friends. But if I return to my quarters, I'll know if my father comes back in one piece.

I suspect the group of armed men, my father included, were still on the elevator when the captain gave his little speech. If the rebels were smart, they would've ditched their weapons and fled to their quarters immediately.

Two hundred human men… dead. I'm stunned that many people were able to cram onto the twelve shuttles.

The battle ended so quickly, I doubt many Darrvasons aboard the Haxxal were sick, if any were sick at all. Perhaps the virus didn't work in the way my father hoped it would.

I take a deep breath, send up a silent prayer for Zahhn's safety, then hurry to the mess hall.

Five of my coworkers are seated at a table in the back, sipping mugs of coffee. There are a few other people scattered around the mess hall too. I join my friends and gratefully accept a mug of coffee.

"Hey, ladies and gentlemen." I give a playful wink and sit casually in my chair, adopting the confident persona I habitually wear as armor. But my demeanor falters when Caroline's eyes suddenly brim with tears. I place a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Caroline covers her face and sobs.

I shoot a questioning look at the others, and Johnny finally speaks up.

"During the attack, she saw her father tackled by two security officers," he says with a frown. "They found a blaster poorly hidden under his shirt, which they confiscated, and they dragged him away while he screamed about a plan to assassinate Captain Warren."

"He's going to be executed now," Caroline sobs. "Traitors and murderers are always executed. What will I tell my mother? What about my baby sister? Oh God, they're going to be heartbroken." Her sobs deepen, and I rub her back in an effort to soothe her.

But she's not wrong. Traitors and murderers are always executed. Shit, even suspected traitors meet the same dark fate. Little proof is required.

I consider Officer Brute's words. More information will be forthcoming as we investigate the rebel threat to the Darrvason Empire.

I glance around the mess hall, going cold with trepidation as I half expect security officers to storm inside and arrest me.

While I've never been involved in a rebel plot, there's a good chance my father is about to be charged with treason. What if I'm implicated along with him? We share the same quarters, and it would reason that investigators might believe there's no way I wasn't privy to the rebel goings-on that occurred right under my nose.

Then there's the speakeasy to consider. More rebel activity directly under my watch. Yet I always pretended not to know. If I heard something suspicious, I would start humming loudly under my breath and walk away.

Caroline finally stops sobbing. She takes a few deep breaths, wipes her face with a napkin, and stands up. She glances at a nearby bench. "I think I'm going to lie down. I appreciate you guys, I really do, but I need some alone time. Maybe I'll get lucky and fall asleep." She approaches the bench, lies down, and curls up with her back facing us. Poor thing. My heart goes out to her.

But will I soon face the same grief as her?

A young woman approaches our table, and I'm so lost in my thoughts that I almost don't recognize her at first. But my spirits brighten when her identity registers in my mind. "Hey, Mandy, good to see you," I say. "Please join us."

"Thanks," she says, taking a seat next to Johnny. "I was on the other side of the mess hall and just noticed you sitting here. I don't want to be alone right now." She gives me a thin, watery smile, and she tucks her trembling hands onto her lap. "My poor mother. She's going to be so worried about me. I was on my way to the salon when the attack started."

"Why wasn't your mother with you?" I ask. "I thought you both normally worked at the same time." Mandy and her mother are beauticians who mostly serve Founders and their descendants, though both women have cut my hair a few times over the years.

A shadow crosses Mandy's face. "My sister isn't doing well. She can't even get out of bed today. I'd hoped the recent trip to the medical bay would help—we traded a favor with Captain Warren in exchange for the extra credits needed to visit a doctor—but sadly, Tasha's only gotten worse."

"What's wrong with her?" Johnny blurts, and I kick him under the table. He gives Mandy a sheepish look. "Sorry. I don't mean to pry."

Mandy shrugs. "We don't fucking know. Some days she's fine, other days, her entire body becomes stiff, and she can't bend her legs or arms. She can barely open her mouth to take food and water. She also frequently develops high fevers, and her hair's falling out too."

I immediately think of Zahhn. Could he help Mandy's sister? I make a mental note to ask if I ever speak with him again. Surely the Darrvasons possess superior medical technology compared to us. But after our attack on their lead ship, will they be willing to share?

"Wow, that sounds bad," Johnny says. "I'm really sorry."

"I'm sorry too." I aim a comforting smile at Mandy and pray her sister will make a full recovery soon.

"How long do you guys think the shelter-in-place will last?" Johnny asks, clearly eager to change the subject.

"Probably until the Darrvasons and the command team finish rounding up the remaining rebels, however long that takes," Mandy says. "Two hundred human men were killed on the Haxxal today, rebels, all of them, but surely some of their comrades stayed behind. I mean, who hacked our systems and fired at the Haxxal not once but twice?"

She makes a point, though I already knew some rebels stayed behind. A vision of my armed father boarding an elevator flashes in my mind. I glance toward the entrance of the mess hall, my heart in my throat.

A dark thought creeps into my head. The thought that maybe he deserves to die. If he was truly part of a plot to kill thousands of Darrvsons with a virus, that's fucking messed up. I never believed him to be an overly kind man, but I never viewed him as cruel either. A bit cold and unfeeling, yes. But cruel? No.

Suddenly, chaos erupts. Over a dozen security officers storm into the mess hall, weapons held high. Gasps and screams fill the large room, and some people hide under tables. I brace myself for a possible confrontation.

The officers break off in pairs, and they start scanning the palms of every person in the room. They shout at people hiding under tables, and the trembling regular citizens emerge and hold out their palms. The officers even force the teenagers present to stand still while their palms are scanned, but thankfully the younger children are left alone. Also thankfully, none of the teenagers are taken into custody.

I can't say the same for the adults, however. By the time a pair of security officers approaches our table, they've already arrested three middle-aged men. The charge? Treason. I try to fight back a chill as the officers stare us down.

"Hold out your palms, citizens," the shortest one orders. "Comply or face arrest."

One by one, we all hold out our palms. As it so happens, they scan my palm last, and the moment the scanner emits a low-pitched beep, my heart plunges to my feet.

"Ah, Leona Zimmerman," the taller officer says as he peers at the identity scanner. "We've been looking for you. We just arrested your father a few minutes ago." He withdraws manacles from his belt. "Leona Zimmerman, you are under arrest for the crime of treason. You will be taken to the brig and given a swift trial."

I don't resist. What's the point? They'll shoot me dead if I put up a fight. I slowly stand up, then turn and place my hands behind my back.

The officers are quick to put the manacles on me. I gaze at my friends with tears in my eyes. Johnny appears incensed, and I give a slight shake of my head, silently begging him not to interfere. This is my fight. Not his.

I smile through my tears. "See you later, guys. I love you all. Caroline, I'll keep an eye out for your father. Mandy, I'll pray for your sister. Johnny, try not to be an asshole to everyone." I make similar comments to the others at the table, and I'm grateful that the officers don't drag me away until I'm finished speaking.

As they guide me to the nearest elevator, I know I won't be released from the brig this time. Treason. My teeth chatter with the chill that's descended upon me. Or maybe it's shock. Yes, I think I'm going into shock. Not only are my teeth chattering, but breathing becomes difficult and I feel so lightheaded that I fear I might pass out.

When the elevator reaches the deck that houses the brig, my knees practically buckle. Somehow, I remain upright and manage to walk down the dim corridor leading to the brig.

Treason. I've been charged with treason.

Do I deserve it? Maybe. If I'd blabbed to the command team and confessed that my father was plotting something, perhaps the attack on the Haxxal could've been stopped.

But no. Even if the attack was thwarted and all the rebels involved in the scheme were rounded up, a rash of executions would've taken place. The two hundred human men would've still died, though they would've met their ends in a depressurization chamber rather than perish at the hands of the Darrvasons.

This realization helps alleviate my guilt somewhat.

I'm going to die. I'm going to be executed.

By the time I'm placed in a dark cell, I'm trembling so hard I can no longer stand. The officers drag me into the cell, deposit me on the cold, hard floor, and lock me inside.

Sobs and shouts echo throughout the brig, but the sounds eventually fade into the background. Lying on the floor, I hug my knees to my chest and try to regulate my breathing.

I'm going to die.