“Yes,” I say. The man is Uncle Narol.
The Jackal holds a pistol in his hand. “Darrow. My Boneriders found this one sabotaging beacons in deep space. Really is tougher than he looks. Thought he might know your mind. But he tried to bite off his own tongue instead of talking to me. Irony for you.” He walks behind my uncle. “I don’t want a ransom. I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to watch.” He lifts up the pistol. It’s a slender gray slip of metal the size of my hand. The Blues in the pit gasp. Sevro rushes onto the bridge just as the Jackal points the gun at the back of my uncle’s head. My uncle lifts his eyes to look into the camera.
“Sorry, Darrow. But I’ll say hello to your father for—”
The Jackal pulls the trigger, and I feel another part of me slip away into the darkness as my uncle slumps in his chair. “Turn it off,” I say numbly, the past flooding into me—Narol putting a frysuit helmet on my head as a boy, tussling with him at Laureltide, his sad eyes as we sat beneath the gallows after Eo’s hanging, his laugh…
“Timestamp puts it at three weeks ago, sir,” Virga, the comBlue says quietly. “We didn’t receive it because of the interference.”
“Did the rest of the fleet get this?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t know, sir. Interference is marginal now. And it’s on a pulse frequency. They’ve probably
already seen it.”
And I told Orion to keep all ships scanning in case we got lucky. It will leak.
“Oh, shit,” Sevro mutters.
“What?” Holiday asks.
“We just set fire to our own fleet,” I say mechanically. The fragile alliance between the highColors and low will shatter from this. My uncle was nearly as beloved as Ragnar. Narol is gone. Just like that.
I feel helpless. I shudder inside. It’s not real yet.
“What do we do?” Sevro asks. “Darrow?”
“Holiday, wake the Howlers,” I say. “Helmsman, max thrust to rear engines. I want to be with the
main fleet in four hours. Get me Mustang and Orion on the com. Telemanuses too.”
Holiday snaps to attention. “Yes, sir.”
Despite the interference, I reach Orion over the com and tell her to seal off all the ship bridges and to isolate control of the guns in case anyone decides to take a potshot at our Gold allies. It takes nearly thirty minutes for the Blues to connect me with Mustang. Sevro and Victra are with me now along with Daxo. The rest of his family is on their ships. The signal is weak. Interference causing static that wavers across Mustang’s face. She’s moving through a hall. Two Golds with her. “Darrow, you’ve heard?” she says, seeing the others behind me.
“Thirty minutes ago.”
“I’m so sorry…”
“What’s happening?”
“We received the communiqué. Some jackass tech pimped it to all the sensor chiefs,” Mustang confirms. “It’s on the ship hubs throughout the fleet. Darrow…there’s already movement against highColors on several of our ships. Three Golds on Persephone were killed fifteen minutes ago by Reds. And one of my lieutenants opened up on two Obsidian who tried to take her. They’re dead.”
“Shit’s hitting the fan,” Sevro says.
“I’m evac-ing all my personnel back to our ships.” There’s gunshots in the background behind Mustang.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“On the Morning Star. ”
“What the hell are you doing there? You have to get off.”
“I still have men on here. There’s seven Golds in the engine deck for logistical support. I’m not leaving them behind.”
“Then I’m sending my father’s guard,” Daxo growls from his family’s torchShips. “They’ll get you out.”
“That’s stupid,” Sevro says.
“No,” Mustang snaps. “You send Gold knights in here, and this turns into a bloodbath we don’t recover from. Darrow, you have to get back here. That’s the only thing that might stop this.”
“We’re still hours out.”
“Well, do your best. There’s one more thing…they’ve stormed the prison. I think they’re going to execute Cassius.”
Sevro and I exchange a look. “You need to find Sefi and stay with her,” I say. “We’ll be there soon.”
“Find Sefi? Darrow…she’s leading them.”
My assault shuttle lands on the auxiliary deck of the Morning Star where Mustang was supposed to meet us. She’s not there. Neither are the Golds she was rescuing. A coterie of Sons of Ares waits for us instead, led by Theodora. She carries no weapon and looks out of place surrounded by the armored men, but they defer to her. She tells me what’s happened. My uncle’s death sparked several small fights that escalated into shootings on both sides. Now several ships roil with conflict .
“Mustang has been taken by Sefi’s men, along with Cassius and the rest of the highColor prisoners, Darrow,” Theodora announces, assessing the rest of my lieutenants.
“Gorydamn savages,” Victra mutters. “If they kill her this is done.”