But he’d already been too late. He just didn’t know it. And the Overseer had tried to capture me even while launching a backup plan. There’d still been time to stop the GIN Project. No public announcement yet. If either of them had caught me or taken the lab back, none of this would be happening right now.
“He’ll do it every time, won’t he? Sacrifice me for the greater good? I’m expendable to my own father.” That hurt so much more now that I knew who my real father was.
At the same time, what was he supposed to do? Sacrifice everyone else?
Sanaa flicked an impatient hand through the air. “You’re too smart to say stupid things.”
“Okay. Then why this sudden concern for me? After all this time without a word? After being ready to hand me over as a blood dispenser, even if he didn’t want to?”
“My opinion?” She lifted her brows.
“Yeah.” I was pretty sure it would be spot on.
“The general could live without you before. He was used to it. The longer you’re back in his life, the closer he gets to choosing you. No matter the cost.”
I sat abruptly on the bright berry-red bed again, my legs suddenly weak. That was exactly what I wanted to hear. It filled my chest with hope, and yet… What would choosing me mean? Leaving the galaxy solely in the hands of the Overseer? How could I ever want that?
There were probably days when my father found a way to save hundreds of lives and make it look like some rebel scum had messed with the Dark Watch, just like he had on the Ewelock hub. Nathaniel Bridgebane was essential to the resistance. He had been from the start. “I can’t let him do that. He has to stay strong.”
And despite my railing at him, he had put me in the best possible place. I loved the orphanage. Starway 8 was my dream, past, present, and future.
But did that erase abandonment? And believing the only real family I had left would slit my throat if I ever showed up on his doorstep? Bridgebane was convincing. He had to be. How else could he walk this…bridge for decades?
“Yes,” Sanaa agreed. “He has to stay strong.”
And right then, I saw the dead eyes in her also. Cold and ruthless couldn’t always be an act. It had to be real, along with real atrocities, or it wouldn’t fool the Overseer.
What an awful burden, pretending all the time, doing things you hated. Kill ten to save twenty. Those were the kind of choices they made, Sanaa and my father. Maybe his lies had spared me that.
I swallowed, a dry bob of muscle that hurt my throat. “All right, then. On to the next step.” They didn’t know it yet, but Shiori and Reena Ahern were waiting for a jailbreak.
Without a word, Sanaa led the way out, locking up behind us. I didn’t take anything with me. Unless I was dead, I’d be back.
Chapter 19
SHADE
I looked in the mirror. Nathaniel Bridgebane, Galactic General, Dark Watch 12, stared back at me.
Tess had a lot of questions for her real father. Unfortunately, I couldn’t answer them. I only wore his face and his uniform. Held his badge in my hand. I couldn’t explain his choices, but I hoped Tess got the chance to ask about them. And about the past. I saw the cracks in her, the holes that needed to be filled with information only Bridgebane could give.
The general had left five things for Tess in the safe inside that Galligar Prime apartment.
A pile of trick handcuffs—he’d obviously conferred with Mwende about our plan.
A crimson Dark Watch uniform for a tall man with broad shoulders.
A full Nathaniel Bridgebane head mask, complete with dark-brown hair turning silver at the temples.
Blue contact lenses.
A duplicate of his security badge.
With everything on and pulled into place as it was now, I was General Bridgebane. He was about to walk onto Starbase 12, as usual. The man had provided us with the easiest access imaginable to the most secure location in the galaxy. Bridgebane and Mwende would arrive together with high-profile prisoners. Nothing unusual in that. Not a single person could question our actions except for the Overseer himself. He was the only one who outranked Bridgebane.
If something went wrong, the real Bridgebane could deny all knowledge of the deception and pin the betrayal on Mwende. Not ideal, but someone had to stay the course if we couldn’t.
It was our original plan, improved upon by trading prisoner Shade Ganavan for a fake General Bridgebane, a man no one would dare disobey in the entire military, even if his voice sounded a little different. I could mimic well, but it wasn’t perfect. I’d speak as little as possible. Bark out orders. We still had Tess, Jax, and Merrick as important captives—our reason for demanding an interrogation room and the presence of “incentives” to make them talk.
It should work. Get Shiori and Ahern in the same place as the rest of us. Get out.
Our biggest concern was the Overseer catching wind of our actions and asking questions before we left the starbase.
I turned to Tess. “You ready, baby?”
She made a face. “Don’t call me that when you look like my father.”
I sidled closer, amping up the sleaze. “No daddy fetish?”
Tess’s full body shiver came with a little giggle. It was the first time she’d cracked a smile in days. “Dressed like that, you’re my worst nightmare.”
“He’s handsome.” I glanced in the mirror again. Gave myself a wink. Posed like a muscle man. Growled a little.
“Shade!” Tess laughed outright this time, and it felt like victory. Her next once-over didn’t look quite so revolted at the idea of cozying up to me.
“Are you done with that message?” I asked, slipping Bridgebane’s security badge into the slot in his uniform designed for it.
She nodded and pressed Send. “Mareeka and Surral will read between the lines and know I’m up to something dangerous.”
“They’ll want news from you when you return.”
She powered off her tablet and set it on the bedside table. Bonk was taking up most of her pillow, and she stopped to pat him before turning back to me. “I said to hug Coltin for me. I told them I’d found Gabe.”
“I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed.” I tried hard to keep any of the stiffness I felt from my voice.
“Yeah.” She nodded, sounding distant.
“What is it?” I coaxed her up and settled my hands on her hips. Tess almost leaned into me and then seemed to recoil from the uniform. Or from the illusion of her father. Maybe both.
“Gabe doesn’t care about Starway 8 like I do.”