Chapter 7 7

"So you're saying you're hiding a lot of secrets?"

"We all have parts of ourselves that we don't share," he answers cryptically.

I make a thoughtful sound. I don't like the idea, that I don't actually know this person who has direct access to my head very well. That our lunars of conversations haven't given me a very good picture of what he is truly like.

"Doesn't seem fair," I say. "I think you know me pretty well. Maybe that just means I'm really boring."

"I highly doubt that."

I finally smile again. "I need to get some sleep," I say, changing the subject. "I have another boring, routine day early in the morning."

"And you're not a morning person," he teases, proving that I'm right, that he does know me.

I laugh and shake my head, even though he can't see it. "Nope."

"Sweet dreams."

"Good night," I say, and I let him close the connection. Because once he does, I feel so alone in this tiny house, on a planet with twenty-eight point one billion people on it.

As hard as I tried, my illegal activity dragged in someone besides me. In the end, it's a big part of what broke us up, but even Zayne on his high horse of worry couldn't resist the allure of a Neron weapon.

I lunge forward, striking my glowing Neron staff to Zayne's long rapier. They connect, sending sparks flying into the dim light. The energy arcs and licks the air, sending out the scent of charged oxygen.

Zayne parries, spinning in a circle, swiping low. He tries this move so often it isn't even difficult to jump, the energy of the blade that really isn't a blade at all, threatening to melt the soles of my boots.

When I land, I take a step forward, striking with both sides of my double-sided staff. He has to move quick, blocking one shot and then another. I see the sweat break out on his brow and he grits his teeth.

With a smile, I deliver one last power strike, which knocks him back three whole steps. I step back and deactivate my weapon. The Neron arcs disappear, leaving me with only a handle piece with a glowing blue core.

"What?" Zayne protests. "You can't just deactivate in the middle of a fight."

"I won," I say with a smile, though I don't look back at him and rub it in his face. "Did you want me to actually try to kill you?"

"It wasn't over!" he yells, taking two steps across the wide, empty space. "You can't just declare yourself the victor. Besides, what kind of a fair fight is it when you have two Neron ends and I only have one?"

"I made your weapon exactly as you asked," I say, sliding my double-staff into my bag and zipping it up. I turn to look at him and cross my arms over my chest. "You should have thought about it before you picked something so simple and archaic."

"Not archaic," he argues, deactivating the arc and looking at the beautiful handle left in his hand. "Classic."

I chuckle and shake my head.

"You don't make anything that could cause any true destruction, do you?" he asks, and the mood instantly turns sober.

My eyes immediately leave his and find anywhere else to look. "No, Zayne. Nothing more than personal weapons."

He doesn't say anything, but I know he nods and keeps looking at the floor. "I just want you to be careful. I heard someone talking at the bar last night. Apparently, there's a rumor that the illegal Neron going around Korpillion isn't coming from off-planet."

At that, my eyes snap up. Zayne is looking at me again, and his eyes are pleading with me. He wants me to quit this. To get out of this dangerous, and highly illegal business.

I know it's not good for me, but if I'm ever going to escape this boring, mundane life of mine, I need credits. A lot of them. Enough for an entirely new start, doing something that doesn't make me feel like I'm dying a little bit every day.

"They know about the mine?" I ask, anxiety clutching the bottom half of my stomach with a vice grip.

"I don't know," he admits with the shake of his head. "But they were all in agreement that if it is coming from Korpillion, it needs to stay quiet. No one wants Dominion getting word."

My stomach feels sick at the thought. At the possibility of the mega company moving in and laying claim to everything. Of all the lives it would disrupt. Most wouldn't be able to afford the move off-planet, but Dominion wouldn't leave them with much of a choice.

"Thanks for the warning," I say. "I'll talk to Reena, tell her she needs to be more careful."

"You too, Nova," he says. He heads for the door, his bag slung over his shoulder. He pats my own shoulder, lingering just a bit too long, before he heads out.

I run my hands through my hair when the door closes, letting out a slow breath.

Rumors are dangerous. There are too many ears on this planet and the message changes just a little with each whisper. Who knows what the speculations will sound like by the time they fill the city?

As I turn around and look back in my bag, at the weapon lying there, with a glowing blue shard embedded into the handle, I ask myself: Do I start this in hopes that I'll someday get caught? Do I do it because I'm bored? Do I do it because I want everything-everything-about my life to change?

It's not something I want to admit to myself. I don't relish in being a criminal. It's not like I dreamed about being an arms dealer when I was a little girl.

I found I was good at something. I went into it for profit.

But that doesn't capture the whole of it.

I pull my staff back out and stare at the glowing blue shard of Neron. Before I think too much about it, I unclasp the small latch and roll the shard out onto my palm.

A wave of electricity washes over my entire body at the contact. I feel the power sink inside me, from the top of my head, down to my smallest toenail. I even feel it in my hair.

There are people in the galaxy who get addicted to Neron. They don't consume it like the Kinduri, but they crave possessing it. Having it on their person. They relish in the feeling it gives them. In the power they can hold for even just a small span of time.

They can't stop.

They spend every credit they have on obtaining the illegal Neron.