Page 47 of Last of Her Name

“I could take a look at it, if you want.”

She tilts her head, one eye peering at me. “Huh?”

“I’m a mechanic. Well, apprentice mechanic.” I tap my multicuff. “Broken engines are sort of my thing.”

She shrugs. “I guess you couldn’t make it any worse. I’m Mara, by the way.”

We walk over to her ship, the others ignoring us as they escort the victor to the bar. Mara watches them with narrow eyes, twisting one of her braids.

I grab a wheeled dolly and lie on it, pushing myself under the wing. The engine is housed beneath it, tucked against the hull. Popping a screwdriver from my cuff, I open the panel concealing it. As I work, I glance at Mara, who’s sitting a few feet away, nursing her water like she wishes it was something stronger.

“So, Mara Luka. Is rebellion a family business?”

She swirls her cup. “It’s not rebellion. It’s restoring the rightful order. My mom died sixteen years ago in the Battle of Alexandrine, defending the palace from the direktor’s invasion force.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes darken. She drains her cup, then slams it on the floor. “I’ll avenge her when we take out those pigs.”

I slide out from under the wing so I can set aside the panel I removed. “So that’s why all these people are out here, hiding in a dead system and fighting for a dead dynasty? They want vengeance?”

“Well, not just that. Most of us are here because we had nowhere else to go after the war. A lot of these pilots flew for the Leonovs. What’s waiting for them, except death sentences?”

“But do you really want to see the Empire restored?”

She shrugs. “I just want to go home to Alexandrine. And until the Committee falls, that can’t happen.” With a grim smile, she adds, “It’s not always about the big picture, is it? Empires and armies and ideals. I don’t know who’s right or wrong in the end, but I know what I want and I know what stands in my way.”

I slide back under the wing and shine my cuff’s flashlight at the engine, spotting the problem right away. One of the energy lines to the left fusion reactor is torn. I go to work on it, splicing and snipping.

“You said Alexandrine’s home,” I say. “What’s it like?”

“Oh, it’s a paradise,” she says wryly. “The whole planet’s covered in cement, and the protected greenspaces are reserved for the wealthy. You have to wait in line for hours just to get your daily meal ration. If you complain about it, you risk getting thrown into a cell for a week. The Committee controls everything—the peacekeepers, the courts, the food distribution, the banks.”

“Things are really that bad there?” I’m neck-deep inside the engine now, my voice muffled by the metal walls around me.

“Think about it like this: We left there in order to livehere.”

“Good point.” I back out and study the line I’ve extracted. “You must have really hated it on Alexandrine.”

“I didn’t hate it. It was just like … seeing someone you love get sick, to the point they’re notthemanymore, you know? You want to run away, because it hurts to see someone you love become someone else, always in pain and misery.”

“You left Alexandrine because you want to find the magic pill that will heal it.”

“Yeah.” She nods thoughtfully. “That’s it exactly.”

I use my pliers to disconnect a secondary line, redirecting the power flow through the engine. “You think Zhar’s that pill?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. My dad thinksyouare, once you come into your own, whatever that means.”

“Guess you all must be pretty disappointed in me, then.”

“I’m withholding judgment for now. Let’s see how you handle that engine first.”

“Fair enough.” Burrowing back into the exposed hull, I reconnect the wires, then replace the panel.

“Okay, you’re set.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “You fixed it? In … five minutes?”