Page 27 of Stalker

Dad remains frozen, wine dripping from his chin onto his pristine uniform. I've never seen him look so pale.

"Ma'am, please." The maître d' grabs her cybernetic arm. "You need to leave."

"Ask him about Rakura IV!" Her voice breaks. "Ask him about the civilians he sacrificed! The children!"

My stomach drops. Rakura IV. The same station where...where Bruticus's mother died.

"The blood of hundreds is on your hands, Commander Daniels!" She spits the words like venom. "Their screams haunt my dreams. Every night, I hear them burning!"

The security officers finally arrive, their boots thundering across the cafe floor. As they drag her away, her last words echo through the suddenly silent room:

"Your own daughter sits there, trusting you. Does she know what kind of butcher raised her?"

The maître d' practically trips over himself apologizing. "Commander Daniels, I am so terribly sorry. Your meal is complimentary, of course. And we'll have your uniform cleaned-"

"No need." Dad waves him off with an easy smile, dabbing at the wine stains with his napkin. "Poor woman is clearly disturbed. These things happen."

His casual tone sends a chill down my spine. The father I know would be upset, maybe even angry. But this man before me shows no trace of emotion beyond mild annoyance.

"Should we call medical services?" The waiter hovers uncertainly. "She seemed quite unstable."

"Security will handle it." Dad's eyes track the woman as she's dragged toward the exit, struggling and screaming. Something dark and predatory flashes across his face - a look I've never seen before.

My stomach churns. In that moment, he reminds me of the stories they tell about Reapers - cold, calculating killers who feel nothing for their victims. But Bruticus has shown me those stories are lies. He feels deeply, passionately.

This stranger wearing my father's face... he feels nothing at all.

"Now then." Dad turns back to me, all warmth and charm once more. "Where were we?"

But I can't unsee that flash of cruel satisfaction in his eyes. Can't unhear the raw anguish in that woman's voice when she spoke of Rakura IV.

Maybe…maybe I should search for that name when I get home. But what will I find out?

And do I even want to know?

CHAPTER 11

BRUTICUS

The scent of recycled air and stale beer wafts through Level 27's cramped corridors. My boots click against metal grating as I keep to the shadows, far from the Admin district where those marines met their end.

"Got something special for a thousand creds." The information broker's tentacles curl around his datapad. "Kiphian named Zex-Ra. Specializes in custom locks."

"That's ludicrously high."

"Ludicrous credits buys quality intel. Zex works the Rusty Bolt most nights."

The credit chip changes hands. Down here in the station's bowels, everything has a price. The broker's info better be worth it - Daniels's office sits behind three layers of security. But a Kiphian could slice through them like butter.

The Rusty Bolt squats ahead, neon sign flickering in the artificial twilight. Perfect place for a locksmith who prefers discretion. I pause at the threshold.

Something prickles at the back of my neck. The corridor behind me stretches empty, but instinct screams danger. I lean against a grimy wall, pretending to check messages while watching the reflections in a broken vid screen.

There. A flash of movement three shops back, ducking into an alcove. Amateur move.

"Come into my office." The words barely leave my lips when footsteps whisper on the grating.

The Rusty Bolt can wait. Time to find out who's so interested in my business.

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