Page 2 of Zahhn's Mate
“What do we have here?” A dark chuckle escapes him.
I summon my bravery and meet his eyes, not wanting him to discern the true depths of my fear. The more frightened I appear, the more guilty I’ll look. As far as he knows, I’m just a regular citizen of theJansonnawho happened to stay out after curfew to admire the majestic view of open space and the Darrvason fleet. It’s a plausible excuse. Non-Founders like me don’t have viewscreens in our quarters, so we’re only able to glimpse open space when we visit an alcove, a mess hall, or a recreation room.
“Good evening, Commander Hampton.” I force a smile. “If you wish to sit in this alcove, it’s all yours. I was just leaving.” I rise to my feet and try to walk around him, but he snatches my arm in a painful grip.
He leans closer and scoffs. Spittle flies from his mouth. It’s all I can do not to flinch. “It’s hours past curfew and well after midnight. ‘Good morning’ is more like it.” His gaze brims with violence as he looks me up and down, causing a fresh shiver to rack my body. “What is your name?”
Somehow, I manage another polite smile. “Leona Zimmerman.” I don’t want to reveal my last name, but if I don’t immediately disclose it, I know he’ll ask. A quick scan of my palm would reveal my identity anyway.
“Zimmerman?” Disgust fills his visage. “Any relation to Harris Zimmerman?”
I swallow past the dryness in my throat. “He’s my father.”
The commander’s grip on my arm tightens. He whistles, and footsteps once again echo in the corridor. Two security officers approach to stand on either side of him, and my dread promptly deepens. My father has been a thorn in the command team’s side for years. He’s also spent time in the brig.
“Tell me, Leona, is your father planning to incite any rebellions in the near future?”
“My father has never incited a rebellion.” That’s probably not true, but there’s never been enough evidence to keep Dad in the brig for long.
Commander Hampton rolls his eyes. “If he weren’t such a skilled engineer, I think we both know he would’ve met with an unfortunate accident years ago.” His gaze briefly darts to the alien fleet. “But perhaps our worldship won’t need him for much longer.”
“So, it’s true then? It’s true that the Darrvasons are going to help us?” I think of theHaxxaland my intense but inexplicabledesire to board the alien vessel. “What do they want in exchange for their help?” TheJansonnagives an ominous shudder, and the lights in the corridor flicker, a reminder that the Darrvasons haven’t helped usyet. The worldship is still in a perilous state.
The commander’s grip turns bruising, and I can’t restrain a gasp. He doesn’t answer my questions. Instead, he yanks me out of the alcove, then tosses me toward the security officers. The uniformed men catch me, and before I draw my next breath, they secure my wrists in manacles behind my back.
Oh God. My stomach flips and I shoot Commander Hampton a pleading look. Not that begging will have any effect. The commander has a reputation for arresting and even torturing people without cause. The rumors about him are horrifying, and I pray I’ll end up in the brig rather than his private quarters.
What if he sees capturing me as an opportunity to learn more about my father’s alleged rebellious activities? What if he tries to torture information out of me? The truth is, I suspect my father is involved with at least a few rebel groups who would like nothing more than to overthrow Captain Warren and the rest of his command team, Commander Hampton included, but I don’t have any proof, nor do I know any helpful details.
“The fine for being caught in the corridors after curfew recently increased tenfold, and I doubt you can pay it. Such a pity. Guess you’ll be spending two weeks in the brig.” Commander Hampton’s eyes glitter with malice. “Take her away, gentlemen.”
“Wait!” I struggle in the security officers’ grasp. Though I’m wearing restraints, they still have an iron grip on my arms. “You can’t just keep me in the brig for two weeks. I-I’m entitled to a trial.” This being my first offense, surely a judge would only impose a one-night sentence in the brig. Not two freaking weeks. Guilt ravages me as I consider all the people I’ll be letting down if I disappear without warning for an extended period of time.My friends and my coworkers. Not to mention the patrons who frequent the speakeasy.
“A trial?” The commander laughs. Then he withdraws a clear vial filled with tiny pink crystals from his pocket. He holds the vial in front of my face. My blood runs cold. “Very well. You may have your trial. Such a shame that not only were you caught out after curfew, but we also found drugs in your possession. Tsk tsk, Leona Zimmerman. What a naughty girl you’ve been.” He passes the vial to one of the officers. “Please log this evidence once you reach the brig.”
Disbelief clutches me. The curfew violation is suddenly the least of my worries. A drug charge will result inyearsin the brig. Five at minimum.
“If you’re doing this to try to get a confession out of me, Commander, it’s not going to work. I don’t know anything.” Though we share the same quarters, my father barely speaks to me, and he sure as hell has never confided in me about his alleged involvement in any rebel plots.
“Do you know how many rumors I’ve heard about your father over the years?” He steps closer and brushes my hair behind my ears, allowing his fingers to trail down my neck. I shiver at his touch, repulsed by his nearness. “Some say he was the mastermind behind the Deck Five Massacre twenty years ago. We lost thirty-nine security officers that day.”
“As far as I know, my father is just a regular, boring engineer who’s had the misfortune of befriending people who later turn out to be rebels. Just because a few of his friends and acquaintances have been charged with treason over the years doesn’t mean he’s guilty by association.” Though I’ve always believed my father to be cold and distant, I find myself wondering if perhaps his parental detachment is a survival mechanism. If I don’t know anything concrete, I can’t blow his cover.
The commander smirks. “I hope you enjoy your time in the brig,Leona.” The overly intimate way he utters my name sends a jolt of terror through me. “Perhaps I’ll come visit you. You’ll be there for a few years,” he says, once again brushing my hair behind my ears, “and I would hate for you to get lonely.”
“You can’t do this!” I thrash in the security officers’ hold while the commander continues stroking my hair. It’s perverse, the way he’s touching me. He’s doing it just because he can, a sick display of power. “I didn’t do anything! I-I’ll prove you planted the drugs on me. I will. I’ll expose your corruption!”
Commander Hampton throws his head back and laughs. He knows my threat holds no merit. Even if I had definitive proof he’d committed an atrocity, the evidence would be tidily swept under a rug. He wouldn’t face any consequences. Captain Warren needs someone to do his dirty work. From what I’ve heard, the more clandestine tasks, including off-the-record interrogations, usually fall to the first mate.
Grinning like a fiend, he pats my cheek before stepping back. He makes a sweeping gesture toward the nearest elevator. “Take her away.”
The security officers are quick to comply. Seconds later, I find myself in an elevator headed for the brig. The men don’t release me, no matter how much I plead. Neither guard speaks, and I soon give up trying to reason with them.
Years. I can scarcely fathom it. I’ll be sentenced to years in the brig. And once I’m released? I’ll be assigned to perform the most dreaded, backbreaking tasks on the worldship.
What will happen to my bar?
Tears burn in my eyes as I imagine the patrons and volunteer workers who’ll show up at Leona’s Speakeasy tomorrow evening to find I’m not there. Eventually, word will get out that I was arrested. People will be too scared to visit the bar, even if thecharges against me are completely unrelated to my management of a speakeasy.
