KEENA WAS STILL SICK in bed, fading in and out of consciousness, unable to lead.
Nok couldn’t help worrying about what would happen if Armstrong’s de facto leader didn’t recover soon; she certainly didn’t like being the one everyone turned to for answers in Keena’s absence. It had been a few grueling hours since the refugee ships had landed. Nearly forty battle-scarred Kindred, Gatherer, and Mosca ships that each carried a ragtag group of survivors who were now recovering in the shade of the old slave tent, which, with Rolf’s help, they had set up as a makeshift hospital.
Now, she and Rolf and a few head citizens congregated in the sheriff’s office with Makayla and a Gatherer named Brother Paddal to hear about this new threat. Nok glanced out the window at the eerily calm skies and then at the Gatherer. Eight feet tall, gray skin, fingers like crab legs. She chewed on her lip. She seriously wished Keena were here.
“Start from the beginning,” she said.
“Does he really have to be a part of this?” Makayla jerked her head toward Dane, who was standing near the sheriff’s office doorway, arms crossed.
Nok gave Dane a long, untrusting look. “Believe me,” she said, “I wish we didn’t have to include him, but the mine guards chose him as their representative. They deserve a voice.”
Makayla folded her arms, glaring at Dane, as she explained how war had broken out on the Kindred station, how they’d heard on the ship’s communication system that it had actually been an Axion battalion in disguise, and how Fian—to their surprise—had been an impostor. The real one had been imprisoned for months in the same cells as Cassian.
“And you saw Mali and Leon?” Rolf pressed.
Makayla nodded. “They were okay, last I saw. But the station was in bad shape. The Kindred didn’t stand a chance.”
Next to her, the towering Brother Paddal nodded. “The Axion’s attack was well orchestrated throughout the galaxy,” he explained. “From what our communications officer could gather, they attacked at least eleven Kindred stations simultaneously, reaching as far as the Lehani province. We also received reports of attacks on the Mosca planets of Drore and Dramaden. Our entire Gatherer east-sector fleet was wiped out. My ship’s tracking device was broken, which is the only way I was able to escape.”
Nok twisted her pink strand of hair, trying to guess what Keena would do in this situation. “Well, you can stay as long as you’d like, though we don’t exactly have overflowing resources. We’ll do what we can to heal your wounded and keep you fed until your people can come rescue you, once the war is over.”
Makayla and the Gatherer exchanged a long look.
“It isn’t that simple,” Makayla said. “We didn’t come here because we thought it would be safe. We came here to regroup, and also to warn you.” She paused. “The Axion are headed this way next.”
Dane’s eyes flashed with surprise. Rolf jumped up, taking quick strides to the window to peer at the skies.
“Here?” Nok sputtered. “Why? We have no argument with the Axion!”
“They have an argument with you,” Makayla said. “They’ve heard rumors there are evolved humans here who could be a threat.”
Nok cursed under her breath. “We aren’t ready for a battle with the Axion! Rolf has worked up plans for defensive fortifications to the town, but we haven’t even started construction, and it would take months. For the present, we’re barely keeping ourselves alive here.” She spun around to face the towering Brother Paddal. “What about your ships? Don’t you have weapons?”
“A few, yes,” the Gatherer explained in a droning voice. “We have forty ships between my vessel, the Kindred shuttles, and the Mosca ones. Twenty-two have functioning weapons, though most are badly damaged, and we are low on fuel.”
Nok jerked her head toward Loren. “Loren can show you where we keep our fuel reserves, though we’re low too.” She paced in front of the windows, twisting even more anxiously at her hair. “Who knows how many Axion are coming, and how good their weapons are. Twenty-two ships might not be enough to stop them.” She let out a frustrated sigh, squeezing the bridge of her nose between two fingers.
Dane cleared his throat. “There’s another option.”
All eyes turned to him. Nok narrowed hers, having a feeling she wouldn’t like whatever he was going to suggest.
“The Axion have ships, and weapons, and superior technology,” he said. “And who knows what other kinds of tech they’ve developed over the last few decades that they’ve kept secret from the world. We don’t stand a chance against them if we try to fight.” He paused. “But maybe we could survive if we joined them.”
Nok and Makayla both jumped up.
“No way!” Makayla said.
“Are you insane?” Nok asked at the same time.
“Hardly,” he snapped at them both. “If the Axion are as smart as you say they are, then they must know that it could be beneficial to have loyal humans on their side. I’m not saying I’m happy about it—I know you all think I’m a monster, but I’m not. I’m only suggesting it as a last resort. To keep us alive. And which is more important to you, Sheriff? Having brave dead citizens, or living cowardly ones?”
Seething, Nok shook her head. “We aren’t siding with the Axion. That’s final.” She squeezed the sheriff’s badge. The edges pressed sharply into her palm, setting her senses on alert. Sweat started to break out on her brow. She felt as though all eyes were on her, waiting for her to come up with some brilliant plan to save them. She tried to think of what Keena would say, but she hadn’t even known Keena that long.
She turned to the window, the sunlight glaring like a camera flash, and her thoughts scrolled back to her life in London. Her first week there, when she’d been only fourteen. Miss Delphine standing behind a camera, chewing that saccharine red licorice, ordering Nok how to pose. No, no! You look like you’ve just crawled out of the jungle, girl.
Nok had blinked. But Chiang Mai is in the jungle.
Miss Delphine had rolled her eyes, muttering, Listen, girl. I’m going to tell you the one piece of advice that will get you through any shoot. “Fake it till you make it.” Got it? You aren’t some scrappy kid from a backwater Thai town anymore. You’re the goddamn Queen of Sheba, if you want to be. Fake it. Make me believe.
Nok blinked out of her memories of the past.
If she could fake being a sultry model for all that time in London, then she could fake anything. Fake being confident. Fake being a sheriff. Fake not being terrified. She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling her child growing. It wouldn’t be long now. What kind of world would Sparrow be born into? Would she see her mother as a scrawny, flighty girl who shirked her responsibilities? Or would she see her as someone brave?
She let the sheriff’s badge rest on her chest and took a deep breath. “We’ll send all the elderly citizens and the wounded to take cover in the root mine. Rolf, you can start taking loads of people there in one of the trucks. The rest of us will take up arms in the tent encampment. We’ll leave this empty town as a decoy, hoping the Axion strike it first.”
“There may be another problem.” Brother Paddal unfolded his long, spindly fingers, pointing to the map that Rolf had unrolled on his desk. He pointed to the town, then slid his forefinger to the transport hub. He tapped it. “This moon contains a Kindred transport hub that is powered by an Axion reactor core. It allows for all the satellite tracking and communication with the Kindred stations.”
“We know,” Rolf said. “I’ve been looking into ways to harness the power to give us electricity here in town.”
Brother Paddal nodded solemnly. “It is cloaked from outside radar, so it cannot be detected from above—it reads only as a standard warehouse. I did not know it was here myself until after I had landed. But you see, the reactor is highly volatile. One targeted laser pulse, and this entire area becomes a smoldering crater.”
“What do you mean?” Nok demanded.
“If an Axion laser pulse hits that reactor core in the right place, all life on this moon would be dead. Instantly.”
Nok’s face went white.
“There is a way,” Brother Paddal continued, “to manually shut off the core from inside the facility. Power it down, and there is no danger if it is hit.”
“Yeah,” Rolf said, “but I’ve studied the blueprints. Anyone who goes inside far enough to shut it off manually would die of radiation exposure.”
Brother Paddal cleared his throat. “That is a problem, yes.”
Nok cursed under her breath and leaned over the counter, letting her hair curtain her face. “No one’s dying of radiation exposure, got it?” She looked up at the Gatherer. “You said it’s untraceable from the skies. And that’s how the Axion will attack, from above. To them it’ll look like a plain warehouse. They have no reason to target it any more than the other tents and buildings.”
“Yeah,” Makayla added, “but it’s still dangerous. A stray laser pulse, or if they just attack it by chance . . .”
Dane muttered, “We’re all going to die.”
Nok spun on him with a clenched jaw. “We’re not going to die. We just have to keep them away from that reactor core. We’ll distract them on the ground, leading them here toward the empty town, while Brother Paddal and the other pilots attack from the sky.”
For a moment, everyone was quiet. Dane didn’t look happy, but he didn’t grumble aloud again.
“It’s a good plan,” Rolf said at last. His gaze met Nok’s, full of confidence in her. He nodded. “Really good, Nok.”
She flushed with relief, toying with the sheriff’s badge.
It was true that Nok had no particular love for the dusty moon, but she had hope for what it could be, with all the improvements Rolf planned on making and with the community they were starting to build. A safe haven for Sparrow.
A home.
She looked back down at the badge. Her own eyes reflected back.
Sparrow kicked.
Maybe Nok was never meant to be a sheriff, but for her unborn child, she would fake being anything. And for a second—the slightest moment—she wasn’t even sure she was faking being strong anymore.
“Let’s get moving,” she said.