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Chapter nine

No More Killing

Niko sat with Elliott aboard the Sonadora , notepad holograms hanging in the air before them. Elliott had been scrawling his thoughts out with his fingertips. A glance at them made Niko wince—he couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it. He himself had just stuck to typing.

Elliott paused, chewing on his thumbnail in thought. He scowled at his notes. “Niko. Take a look at this and tell me what you think.”

Niko swallowed. “Uh. Do you think you could give me the gist of it, babe? Just read me a quick rundown?”

“You’re being lazy,” Elliott muttered.

Sure. Lazy . Niko could go with that. It was better than telling him his writing resembled a drunken Dvaab trying to piss a sentence onto a wall.

Elliott sighed. “Fine. So, basically, I’m thinking we should introduce ourselves and get straight to it. We won’t want to waste time. Let’s just tell people about our mission and that we aren’t killing the others. We should mention the release of the online files too.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Niko said. “But maybe we should give a definitive list of the ones you have killed too, just so you have a claim to that work and anything else that you know or don’t know about isn’t linked.”

“Yes. Good idea.” Elliott scribbled something else down.

“So,” Niko said, looking over at him. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m more than ready.”

“Good. You nervous?”

“Of course I am.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Niko said. Elliott looked away from his notes, toward him. “It is. It’s going to be okay. You're going to do great. We’re going to do great. I'm here with you.”

Elliott’s gaze drifted to Niko’s notes hologram. It had a grand total of three lines typed and was otherwise blank. They’d been at it for two hours now.

“Niko…”

He'd never been much of a planner. “I know, babe. But I think we know what to say, right? I’m just going to tell the truth of it all.”

“I think we should be a little more organized than that, don’t you?”

“I’m pretty good at just speaking from the heart.”

“...You know what, that suits you,” Elliott said, relenting. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, chewing on his lip before looking toward Niko again. “Some part of me can’t accept that this is going to happen.”

“It’s going to happen,” Niko said. “We’re going to stop the copycat murders. And people are finally going to know what Honeybliss has done.”

Elliott blew out a slow breath. When he looked at Niko, his eyes were a little brighter, a quiet determination in their sea green depths. “You’re right. I’m... I’m finally going to do this. We’re actually doing this.”

I can’t imagine it anymore. I can’t even hope for it. To hope for it and be let down again is going to make me sick , Elliott had admitted to him back on Dainna. To hear that he was finally allowing that hope in made Niko smile, warmth lacing gently through him.

A thought came to him then, something impulsive.

He wanted to celebrate with Elliott after, when they were back at the facility.

He could use Death’s supplies, cook him something special.

The steak that he’d requested but had been saving.

He wanted to see the joy in Elliott’s beautiful eyes at finally breaking through and winning this.

He could put Hayura and Kuliedi Taan on the intercom as they ate.

He could finish what they’d started in Cnrys’s bedroom on Eanan.

Niko tried not to grin in anticipation at the thought of treating Elliott to something nice.

They were going to do this.

They were going to expose the monstrosity of Honeybliss to the public once and for all.

Elliott had struggled for years to do so, again and again.

They’d stolen his voice at every turn. They would never quell him again.

In mere hours, Honeybliss would never again be able to hide behind their shroud of carefully curated silence.

Niko was ready.

They decided to utilize Elliott’s cloaking modification on the ship, agreeing that they wouldn’t be there long enough for it to excessively drain the battery. Niko landed the ship in an open, empty field behind the broadcasting station.

The station was a compact, gray building that seemed far larger than it really was, covered in over a dozen towering antennas, satellites, and communications beacons that strained up towards the sky like rigid claws.

It stood somewhat isolated, surrounded mostly by fields of puffy, orange, alien flowers, with a scattering of commercial buildings in the distance.

Niko recognized a few of Death’s people flanking the building, guns cradled at the ready. He and Elliott hesitated before deciding to approach with their stealth kept off. They were quickly waved inside.

Death had been waiting for them just inside the door, her hair in a thick braid that hung over her shoulder. She summoned her phone hologram which read one minute past the hour.

“You’re late,” she snapped.

“We got here as fast as we could,” Niko said.

“Here. Have this for you, by the way.” She held out a glossy, black helmet—a perfect copy replacement for the one he’d lost on Uula. Niko took it from her.

“Thanks, D.”

“Come on,” she said, turning and leading them down a thin hallway which was lined with doors and signs in Galactic Standard warning them from entering during live recording.

Some of the doors were flanked by interior windows which granted view into the rooms beyond.

One in particular was lined with Death’s guards, their guns trained on a group of hostages kept sitting on the floor, whose wrists—or, in some cases, tentacles—were bound behind them, their mouths wrapped in tape.

“Whoa!” Niko did a double take. The guards glanced at him and Death waved him on.

“The staff,” she said. “They’re letting us borrow this place for a few minutes. Don’t worry about it. Nobody’s getting hurt. It’s just until we’re done here.”

He exchanged glances with Elliott. “Yeah, okay.”

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Death said as she held open a door for them and stepped aside.

“In here. You’re going to give your talk, say what you want to say.

Keep it brief, to the point. The moment this goes live, my guys are going to publish your files online too.

It’s going to be chaos out there across the galaxy. Make it count.”

They stepped into a recording studio filled with several more of Death’s people.

A familiar female Dvaab who Niko had used to be regularly demolished by in poker greeted them with a lazy wave.

Some people present had no weapons on them and were instead fidgeting with recording equipment, including a deep blue Heenva Niko didn’t recognize.

He was adjusting some of the settings on the camera drone.

They were all likely media equipment technicians or broadcasting specialists of some kind—just a few of many people who probably owed Death one favor or other that she’d come to finally collect on.

“I have no doubt we’ve had Galapol called on us, so that won’t be long either,” she continued. “We’ll need to get out of here fast once you’re done. Do you have any questions?”

“How long will we have?” Elliott asked.

“Can’t say. Minutes,” Death said. “Are you ready?”

“We’re ready,” Elliott said. Niko nodded his agreement, his anxiety suddenly spiking.

Death touched her fingertips to a small earpiece she wore and muttered under her breath. “Alright. You’re going to stand over there. Right in front of the news desk. Yes. Just right there.”

“A little more to the left,” the camera technician said. They shuffled to the left as instructed. “Perfect.”

Niko glanced around the studio. Ahead of them and out of view of the camera drone was a hologram along the wall that read OFF AIR.

Sections of the room which weren’t intended to be in view were covered in some sort of deep gray padding that Niko wasn’t familiar with, but figured was for acoustics purposes or muffling outside sound.

“Should, uh, I wear this?” He gestured to the helmet, currently nested in the crook of his arm.

“No. Everyone knows who you are now anyway,” Elliott said. Niko nodded.

“This brings back memories,” Death said, her expression briefly easing up a fraction.

Elliott gave her a small smile. “Having fun?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. Alright. Going live in one minute.”

Niko took in a deep breath and looked at Elliott, giving him a nod.

Elliott looked back at him. The other man appeared calm, but Niko knew better.

He was likely drowning in anxiety right now.

He resisted the urge to reach out and take his hand.

The seconds crawled by as they waited, frozen and staring at the camera drone.

A single red light on it indicated it wasn’t currently recording.

Niko realized he had been holding his breath and slowly forced himself to exhale.

His phone rang.

The sound cut sharp through the mounting anticipation of the moment.

Elliott jumped, revealing the nervousness that Niko had predicted—and empathized with.

Unease churned thick as tar through his gut.

His phone was silenced to all but three numbers: Elliott's, Deleera's, and Zann’s.

And if Zann was calling, then something big had come up.

Niko quickly swiped the call away regardless, sending it to his undoubtedly full voicemail. He was a mess of nerves now, his hands shaking. “Sorry. Let’s—”

It started ringing again.

“I—I think I need to answer this,” Niko said. “I'll make it quick. Sorry. Can we…?”

Death spoke into her earpiece, already trying to buy them a delay. He could feel Elliott’s gaze bore into him now, wild with nervousness.

Niko answered. “What’s up? Can I call—”

“Oh god. Oh fuck ,” Zann shouted, almost incomprehensible. He sounded breathless. “Niko , they fucking got him!”