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“Yes,” Councilor Va’lora says. “I’ve secured a place for you on the warship Jaya: a Skoropi vessel currently en route to Logos. Do you have any objections?”
I shake my head, my eyes wide. “Well…no. I want to do whatever I can to help.”
“And you will,” she says. “Now, Ulak—can you please catch us up?”
Ulak nods swiftly, taking a step forward. He gestures at a tiny piece of what looks like tree bark on the table between us, the substance enclosed in a protective glass case. The case is made of the same stuff our submarines are: invulnerable even to extreme pressure, practically unbreakable.
“There have been no changes to the substance since we discovered it floating in the ocean,” Ulak says, his expression tight. “It appears organic, but it has the hardness of something synthetic. It does not match any of the plant or animal matter that we have records of here in the archives.”
“Not even Skoropi?” Councilor Va’lora asks.
He hums under his breath. “No; even the records we received from the Razakiin fleet don’t show any matches, and they are supposedly up to date.”
“So our ‘allies’ amongst the Skoropi are either lying to us, or our shared foe has developed a deadly new weapon,” Councilor Va’lora says.
My heart pounds at her words, wondering what she knows that I don’t. If the Skoropi we thought were allies are in fact working against us…it could mean doom for us all. Our arsenal is vast, but my people are still recovering from the Civil War that shook our society just five years ago.
“This is where you come in, Malix,” she says, looking at me. Her expression is grave, her eyes hard. “I want you to bring our knowledge of this weapon to the Skoropi on this ship. We have operatives embedded in their crew; they will certainly know how to help.”
“Who?” I ask. “I didn’t realize the Intelligence Caste was still active.”
“Reza K’lyr,” she says. “Along with his mate, Mai Nguyen.”
My expression hardens, my lips pressing into a thin line.
“I know that you trust him, but I have my doubts,” I say. “Reza defected to Earth years ago, and his brother was—”
“I was on that ship, when Agents Nguyen and K’lyr cut off the head of the Separatists,” Councilor Va’lora says. “And if I have learned one thing in the past decade, it’s that humanity and the Lyra will only be able to survive if we do it together.”
I bow my head in reverence, subservient to the Council’s orders. A stray lock of white hair falls across my forehead, unruly now that I’ve chopped off most of it. When I raise my head again, all eyes are on me, and I realize that she must have brought me here because the rest of the Council has not yet approved this mission.
But if it will help me have my revenge, then I know what I must do.
“I’m ready,” I say. “Where can I rendezvous with Jaya?”
CHAPTER THREE
??
FRANKIE
All things considered, I really haven’t met that many Lyrans.
Sure, my boss is alien married to one, and I know Reza K’lyr pretty well, but he hasn’t lived on Logos in years. At this point, he’s a lot more like a human spy—with none of the weird hang-ups or strange philosophical ideas of most Lyra. Like most Lyrans, he’s scaly, colorful, and white-haired, but as far as I’m concerned that’s where the similarities end.
And I’m about to get a Lyran partner of my own.
I can’t help but be a little excited, since I’ve rarely spoken with Lyransfrom Logos. And hell, maybe he’ll be my soulmate.
Not that I’m looking for one.
Because if I were…
…well, that’s not really an issue right now.
I help Taraven set up a room for our new crew member, making sure there’s a space for him that suits Lyran needs. Taraven puts plants inside the chamber that will make the air cooler, adjusting Jaya’s micro-ecosystems to suit each individual resident of thezephtan. He doesn’t put a blanket on the bed; apparently they don’t sleep with one, or with pillows. I insist on putting a pillow in anyway, because if my planet was destroyed I would definitely want a fucking pillow.
Our new crew member is supposedly from Rath. I don’t know his name, but I already know his people have been slaughtered.
