Page 62 of Phoenix's Last Heist
“Kind of? But not exactly,” she whispers, peering out the windows to check if the coast is clear. “As it turns out, he had a pretty substantial file on me, too, but promised to make it all go away if I could help them nail Brill. This was all supposed to be off the books for them because apparently it’s in a kind of legal gray area, or something, which meant I still needed to stay off the radar of the rest of the Federation. He made it very clear to me that if I got caught in the interim, he couldn’t step in to help me. The upshot to that was that if Ididhelp him nail Brill, he could sneak enough credits into my account to keep me out of trouble and comfortable.”
“Your big payday,” I snap. The words taste wrong the moment they leave me. Bitter not because I think she’s greedy—but because I hate that she’s had to sell her soul piece by piece to survive. I can’t fault her for taking a desperate deal to try and take care of herself.
“Well, you don’t want me to be aserrika, you don’t want me to steal—how else do you want me to pay for food, Orion?” she retorts, her tone biting.
I want to sayI’d feed you. I’d fight for you. I’d burn the stars themselves if it meant you never had to steal again.But the words stay locked behind my teeth.
“Anyway, this guy suggested I try to persuade Brill to send me after the Solar Mother idol—he was posing as a buyer to encourage Brill’s financial interest. Since I hadn’t quite figured out the finer points of my murder plot and Ireallydidn’t wantto go to prison, I agreed. I went back to Ooneryx, placated Brill with details about the biggest score this side of Andromeda, and got him all rabid about the Solar Mother idol.”
“Brill wasn’t even interested in the Solar Mother idol before you put it on his radar,” I say, realization dawning. Disappointment and despair leeches into my words. “And now he’s going to follow the thread to one of the most dangerous weapons in the universe.”
Lyra flinches and huffs in exasperation. She releases the button and pulls me into a darkened hallway. As soon as we step into the corridor, lights flicker on above us, casting everything in a sickly jaundiced glow.
“That’s not entirely true. Brill has a laundry list of everything he eventually hopes to acquire. The idol is on there, but it was just…closer to the bottom of his list. But you’re right, none of this has gone according to plan. And for that, I am truly sorry. You have every right to be pissed at me for keeping the truth from you, but right now, I am trying to save your assandyour sparkly little doll, so bear with me. If we make it out of this alive, you can read me the riot act, okay?” She approaches one of the heavy metal launch bay doors marked A12, peeks in through the small window, and grunts in frustration. “Which launch bay is my fucking ship in?”
“You don’t get to do that! I’m not done being angry with you,” I growl. But anger is easier than what’s really clawing at me. The truth is, I’m terrified. She’s slipping through my fingers, and all I want is to keep her—and the idol—safe. My instincts are roaring to claim, to protect, to follow. But honor demands I let her choose, and her choice might be walking back into the dark.
“Don’t try to get out of this by trying to save my life because every time you try to save me, somehow we end up narrowly avoiding the business end of a plasma weapon,” I say.
“I wasn’t going to give Brill the real idol—that was all part of the plan. I was supposed to take the real idol to Epsilon-6, swap it with a copy they were working that had all their secret surveillance shit inside, and then take that back to Ooneryx. As soon as they had the bug in Brill’s vault, they’d be able to get scans of his compound, patch into his network and download everything they needed to bust him. Brill being incarcerated voids my contract. He’d be in prison, the idol would be returned to Xylothia, and we’d all live happily ever after.”
The slow realization of just how fucked up this situation has become dawns on me. Every line between right and wrong blurs to static. The Feds are after Brill. Lyra’s helping them. She’s also the reason Brill knows about the idol at all. The irony’s enough to choke me. She’s trying to save us, but the web she’s caught in keeps getting tighter—and somehow, I’m tangled in it too.
“But then I showed up,” I say grimly.
“But then you showed up,” Lyra agrees, checking the launch bay on the other side of the corridor marked B24. “So now, we’re going to pivot.”
“What about your father?” I ask, still struggling to make sense of everything. “Was that a lie, too?” The question bursts out before I can stop it—not because I truly doubt her, but because I needsomethingto be real. Every truth she’s shared has shifted under my feet, and I’m desperate to find solid ground between us.
Lyra’s face falls again, a study in values of pain. “Unfortunately, that was all true. My dad did go to pieces after my mom died. He started looking for the Dark Star because he believed it could bring her back. His journals are full of his research and his heartbreak, if you don’t believe me. That’s how the Feds came to suggest the idol in the first place—my dad’s last job was the Ishirian scrolls, which mention the idol’s location,” Lyra says, yanking me behind a stack of crates in the launch bay.
As I’m about to argue, she slams a hand over my mouth and gestures behind me. The cavernous hanger is full of all manner of spacecraft—each more dilapidated than the last. TheAldrin-136sits at the back surrounded by a knot of Void Stalkers and four extremely agitated Dreller mechanics. It’s impossible to hear what’s being said, but from the look of things, I’d wager the Void Stalkers are trying to gain access to Lyra’s ship and the Drellers are having none of it.
“Stars bless them,” Lyra whispers. “I don’t know how long they can hold those bastards off, though.”
The hand she’s clamped over my mouth softens, and when she turns to face me again, her violet eyes are filled with longing—and regret.
“I sense you’re about to do something incredibly stupid,” I say quietly.
She nods, her hand still on my cheek and her thumb ghosting a touch across my lower lip.
“You’re going to go back to Epsilon-6 with the idol. I’m going to let Kraxis take me back to Ooneryx, which will give you time to get away. If the idol is the only way to find the Dark Star, there’s no way we can let Brill get his hands on it. He knows where the temple is—you can’t take it back there until he’s out of the picture,” she whispers.
“And then what?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“So, I take the idol to the Feds, but then what happens to you?” My voice breaks on the last word. My chest feels like it’s collapsing under its own gravity. She’s planning to sacrifice herself, and she doesn’t even see it that way. Every instinct in me screams to grab her, drag her onto the ship, and never let her out of my sight. But the look in her eyes—calm, resolute—stops me cold.
She blinks and looks away, obviously fearing the worst but refusing to confront the truth of it.
“I don’t know. If I can convince him that you ran off with the idol, I’ll have to come up with a way to keep him from sending people after you.”
“And you just expect me to leave you to Brill’s wrath when he finds out you failed again? Lyra, he’ll kill you!” I hiss. “There’s no fucking way I’m going to let that happen.”
“I’m sure I’ll think of something,” she says. “Don’t worry about me, Ranger. I’ve survived this long with him. I’m not giving up yet.”
The wobbly smile she gives me squeezes my heart until I feel cracks form and I’m about to bleed out all over the floor of the launch bay.
