“There are laws. Planets are purchased, but they’re still managed by the ITC. Emissaries from all across the galaxy check in. And their recorders are always watching.”
The recorders were orb-like camera drones that were sent across the stars, to all planets under the arm of the ITC, taking snapshots and video intel.
“They check for ethics when there can’t be boots on the ground,” Cade said. “Things must be done correctly, you know.”
“So Geisinger’s going to do something illegal and letusbe his fall guys.”
Cade shifted. “Geisinger has… taken the liberty of disabling the ITC recorders for the time being. He’ll be watching on his own that he’s previously sent planetside. That footage will seamlessly interrupt the ITC feed. It will holdnorecord of us having been to Dohrsar. The crew’s identity will be kept safe. I’ve signed that in a contract.”
Karr stared at him. This plan had been in the works for quite some time and Cade hadn’t told him a lick of it.
“And what makes you think he’ll honor any contract, if he’s found some way to screw with the ITC’s recording system?” Karr spread his hands before him.
Cade frowned. “You have to trust that I’m doing what’s best for us. Stop asking questions. I’ve thought of the details, Karr, gone through all the steps you’re going through right now. I’ve ironed them all out. And besides. They…” He swallowed, and his voice took on a different tone. Alongingtone, a weapon he used rarely, but accurately when he chose to. “They made me promise to take care of you. I’m doing that by doingthis.”
“Don’t.” Karr shook his head. “Don’t turn this into something about them. It’s not fair.”
The memory of his parents’ deaths, that hideous dream he’d awoken from earlier, drove into him like a knife. No matter how hard he tried to push it away, the sharp blade only sank deeper.
Their parents had traveled to nearly a hundred planets in their lifetime, faced dangers the likes of which no Traveler would ever see. Everything they did was for the good of the galaxy. Everything they discovered was handed right back to science, in hope of discovering something to cure the Reaper’s Disease.
All it took was one raider to sneak aboard their ship while it was docked and slit their throats.
And then they were nothing.
Names on a gravestone. Ashes on the wind.
Karr wasn’t supposed to be in the ship that night. He wasn’t supposed to see their chests stop moving, their mouths agape, deep crimson pooling onto the metal floor. He wasn’t supposed to feel the warmth of their blood as it slid towards his bare toes.
His chest ached. He rubbed at the old scar on it, just one of the many he’d received when he was a scrawny young boy in the system, picking fights with boys far larger than he was to fuel his anger.
Cade’s expression turned worrisome. “Are you alright?”
Karr folded his hands into his lap. “I’mfine.”
“But you’re—”
“I’mfine,Cade. And it’s not fair, how you’ve turned the tables. We don’t speak about them.”
“I do.” Cade crossed his arms over his chest. “I always will. And this Antheon… this is something they would have gone after, Karr,something they would have beenproudof.” He leaned in, blue eyes wide, as he held up the black rock. “In this form, Antheon is nothing more than a rock. It’s likely why the Dohrsarans don’t have any idea what they’re sitting on. But Geisinger has resources, and reach. Once we deliver it to him,” he said, tossing the rock back to Karr, “he’ll use it to make medical miracles. He could eradicate the Reaper for good.”
“We don’t have the manpower to mine at the level you’re speaking of,” Karr said. “To get the amount this guy likely needs. We have twenty men. A single drill. It will take years.”
“I have it all taken care of,” Cade said. “There are workers waiting for us on Dohrsar. And he’s supplied us with tools to get the job done.”
Karr hadn’t seen those tools on board, but he supposed the storage bay, with its messy rows upon rows of gear, was likely hiding plenty Cade hadn’t shown him.
“Look.” Cade reached out and gripped Karr’s shoulders, his fingertips cold in the recycledStarfallair. “I promise you, with everything that I am. This is the last job. We do this… we’ll be free. We’ll make a difference. Not just for us, but forso manyin the galaxy.”
It had always been the two of them against the world.
He tapped the exit panel beside his door. It slid open, revealing the red-lit corridor beyond. “No more questions. Just follow my lead and believe in our future.”
Karr stood, the chair squeaking again beneath him. “Tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow.” Cade nodded. “Get some rest. You’re going to need it.”
As Karr walked away, he glanced over his shoulder, and found Cade frowning down at his desk, where his captain’s coat was ruffled, not in the space he’d last seen it.
