"Easier said than done," Ellie said. "He's protected by layers of insulation. Private security. Political connections. Money that can make problems disappear. Not to mention he has a cuddwisg device. He can make himself look like anyone. Like you said, we need irrefutable proof."
"Then we get it." Cullen's voice was steel. "We take him down. We cut the head off the snake."
"We need to get a message to the Alliance Prime," I said. "My crew aboard theHistoriais waiting for word, but my communicator was destroyed during our escape."
Cullen perked up at that. "I've got communications arrays. Multiple frequencies, satellite uplinks, the works. But I don't know the first thing about reaching someone in space."
"My ship will be monitoring all communications bouncing off the satellites," I explained. "They're scanning for any signal that might be from Declan or me."
"Then we send them one." Cullen was already standing, moving toward a door at the back of the room. "I can ping every satellite in range if that's what it takes."
"Wait." Ellie grabbed his arm. "If Declan has people monitoring communications—and he probably does—we can't just broadcast our location and plans."
Cullen paused, thinking. Then a slow smile spread across his face. "I can make it look like some ham radio operator got lucky. Random signal that just happened to bounce right. You tell me what to send, I'll bury it in static and make it look like an accident."
I nodded. "That could work."
"Then let's do it." Cullen opened the door, revealing a staircase leading down. "My equipment is in the basement. You write the message, I'll get it into space."
I thought for a minute, running through options. I couldn't send a plain message, couldn't send it in any way that Declan would recognize as coming from Ellie or me. "Send the name Maddie," I said finally. "Along with coordinates—latitude and longitude for a location about a hundred miles west of here."
Cullen frowned. "Maddie? Who's that?"
"My captain's human mate. It will get his attention."
Understanding dawned on Ellie's face, but doubt followed quickly after. "Rickon, if Declan's people intercept that...."
"They still won't find us," I said. "I'll fly out to those coordinates and leave another message in my native tongue. Something only my crew will find and understand that leads them here."
Ellie studied my face, considering. Then she nodded slowly. "Alright. But you're not going alone."
"It's going to take me a while to get everything set up,” Cullen interjected. “A few hours at least. Equipment needs calibrating, and I'll need to wait for the right satellite pass to make it look natural." He glanced between us. "Gives you time to make the drop."
Cullen disappeared into a back room and returned with a worn topographical map, spreading it across the table. His finger traced a path northwest from our location, stopping at a blue expanse marked with elevation lines.
"Here," he said, tapping the spot. "Lake Seeley. About ninety miles out. It's frozen solid this time of year, has been since November."
I leaned in to study the map. The lake was substantial, maybe two miles across at its widest point, surrounded by mountains to the north and forests from the south.
"There are ice fishing shacks scattered across the surface," Cullen continued. "Most are empty now that it's gotten so cold, but they're sturdy structures. You could leave your message in one of them, protected from the elements but accessible."
Ellie traced the route with her finger. "It's remote enough. If Declan's people do intercept the coordinates, they'll find an empty fishing shack on a frozen lake. Nothing to connect it back here."
"And your crew?" Cullen asked, looking at me.
"I have a way to mark the message," I said. "It's standard protocol. They'll find it."
"Then that's your drop point." Cullen folded the map and handed it to me. "You can pick whichever shack seems most secure."
Cullen handed me a pen and paper, and I scratched out the coordinates for the lake that he called out in careful numerals, then the nameMaddiebeneath them. My handwriting looked strange in English characters. I was more accustomed to the flowing script of my homeworld—but it would do. The next message I wrote was in the Aljani native tongue, something I'd learned during my time as a gladiator. A warning, along with the coordinates to the cabin.
When I finished, I set the pen down and drew the blade from the sheath at my waist. Without hesitation, I drew it across my palm.
"Rickon!" Ellie's voice was sharp with alarm as blood welled up in the cut. "What the hell are you doing?"
I turned the paper sideways and ran my bleeding palm along all four edges, leaving a rust-red border on the white surface. The metallic scent filled my nostrils immediately familiar and grounding.
"They'll smell it," I said simply, pressing my palm against the paper for good measure. "My crew. Their olfactory senses are far more developed than humans'. This message could sit in the wilderness for days, and they'd still catch my scent."
