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“Her reputation is exemplary,” Neloff insisted.
“Fine. We’ll take Eden back to the Citadel.” Kyrex sounded anything but pleased with the decision.
“Why do you resent Zevon?” Eden wanted to know.
“It’s not just Zevon,” Kyrex told her, his features tensing as his gaze iced over. “Citadel-trained mystics think they’re better than everyone else. They dismiss Pyronese Wraiths and Houkdi Seers as if their abilities are nothing.”
Neloff nodded, his expression equally grim. “Kyrex was raised here on Houkdi and I spent my youth on Torret, so we’ve both experienced the prejudice firsthand.”
Neither of her mates were eager to talk about their pasts. Neloff’s parents had been loving but poverty and a tragic accident had forced Neloff to take on the responsibilities of an adult when he was barely out of his teens. Rather than pursuing a formal education, he’d become a bounty hunter at nineteen.
Kyrex’s family had more money, but his mother was wild. Her refusal to abide by Houkdi customs had made Kyrex somewhat of an outcast. His father was a Pyronese Wraith so most of his mother’s relatives refused to acknowledge his existence. Being caught in the middle of that sort of conflict had made him self-reliant at an early age. Luckily Neloff and his brothers had created a support system for Kyrex. And Kyrex’s more affluent background provided a network of contacts Neloff would not have had without him.
Eden shook away the past and refocused her thoughts on the present complication. “Aren’t sources and controllers all descended from the same engineered gene pool? They’re almost a race unto themselves.”
“When have facts ever erased prejudice?” Kyrex grumbled.
“The conflict goes back to the Controller Wars,” Neloff expounded. “As part of the peace treaty, the Citadel was designated as a neutral headquarters and their board of governors was chosen to supervise the formation of power triads. They were supposed to ensure that the power was distributed evenly between the four planets.”
Kyrex picked up where Neloff had left off. “The problem was, and still is, that the vast majority of Citadel leaders are Altorian. Needless to say, the distribution of power triads is anything but even.”
“Power triads are not just unfairly Altorian,” Kyrex continued. “Nearly all of them are from the upper echelon of society.”
“Then would I be better off with a mentor from somewhere else?” All of her friends were at the Citadel, but she didn’t want to support injustice.
“No. Provost Nadis is solid,” Kyrex conceded with a sigh. “I was just explaining my frustration.”
“Neloff owns four ships and this place is really nice. Why did the Citadel snub you guys?”
Neloff’s laugh was filled with bitterness. “The Citadel has snubbed everyone we know. Not only am I tainted with Torretian blood, but despite what we’ve accomplished, we’re still part of the dreaded working class.”
“Well, everyone I know thinks that sort of injustice is ridiculous,” she told him. “Yes, the rich and powerful have always run the worlds, but I’d like to see them do it without the working class.”
“Well said, sweetheart,” Neloff praised. “Well said.”
They planned to depart for the Citadel the following day. Eden was looking forward to seeing her friends again, but she would miss the quiet tranquility of their desert home.
After they shared breakfast the next morning, Neloff and Eden lingered over mugs ofwessinand Kyrex went to answer a comm marked urgent.
“Did the comm indicate who sent it?” Eden asked as Kyrex hurried from the room.
“I don’t think so. It’s likely just an impatient customer,” Neloff supposed. “We’ll need to accept a contract or make a trade run once we get you settled at the Citadel.”
This was the first Eden had heard of it, but she wasn’t surprised. Their primary source of income was the transportation of goods. Kyrex negotiated the contracts and supervised the fulfillment while Neloff and their other three ships flew the actual runs. Neloff also chased down bounties whenever the criminal was in the same general area as one of his trade runs. By combining the two, he made both more profitable.
Kyrex returned a few minutes later looking decidedly annoyed. He sat down in his customary chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “That was Zevon. He has a pseudo-mission for us, if we’ll agree to take it.”
“What sort of mission?” Eden asked, tension gripping her stomach. She’d barely begun her training. Was she even qualified for a mission?
“Zevon would like to recruit Arcon, but it has been years since anyone Zevon knows has had direct contact with him. Zevon wants us to hire Arcon to train Eden so we can assess his trustworthiness and potential for switching sides.”
“Arcon doesn’t train conduits,” Neloff objected.
“It’s not that he’s incapable of working with females. He simply prefers to avoid the social and political complications surrounding conduits,” Kyrex clarified. “He’s fully capable of teaching Eden everything she needs to know. Right now he’s working with the Torretian rebels. Zevon wants to know if he’s a true believer or if it’s just another job to him.”
“Why Arcon?” Confusion knitted Neloff’s brow and sharpened his tone. “He seems like an odd choice for Citadel service.”
“Who is Arcon?” Eden had never heard the name before, but both her mates clearly knew Arcon well. “And how did Zevon know I’m ready for a mentor?”
