# Stellar Vendetta
## Chapter 3: The Price of Secrets
Kira woke to the soft chime of her comm unit and the sensation of warm lips against her neck. For a moment, she existed in a bubble of perfect contentment—Julian's arm around her waist, his breathing steady against her hair, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the lingering traces of their passion from the night before.
Then reality crashed back.
"Kira." Julian's voice was rough with sleep. "Your comm."
She reached for the device, noting with alarm that it was already past the time she should have returned to the compound. The message was from Damien, marked urgent: *Father wants you in his office. Now. Come alone.*
"I have to go," she said, sitting up and searching for her scattered clothes.
Julian propped himself up on one elbow, watching her dress with eyes that were already shadowed with worry. "What is it?"
"My father wants to see me. I should have been back hours ago." She found her jacket and pulled it on, fingers fumbling with the fastenings. "Julian, if anyone finds out about this—"
"They won't." He stood and moved to her, his hands covering hers to still their trembling. "Look at me."
She met his eyes, seeing her own fear reflected there.
"Whatever happens," he said softly, "last night was worth it. You're worth it."
The words nearly undid her. She kissed him once, quickly, then pulled away before she could change her mind. "I'll try to get word to you about the afternoon session."
"Be careful."
"You too."
The journey back to the Montrose compound felt like a walk to an execution. Kira's mind raced through possible explanations for her absence, each one more inadequate than the last. She'd attended a cultural event in the entertainment district. She'd been reviewing intelligence reports in a secure location. She'd needed time alone to process the negotiations.
None of it would explain why she'd turned off her tracking beacon.
The compound's morning shift was in full swing when she arrived, security personnel and administrative staff moving with the efficient precision Viktor demanded. Several nodded respectfully as she passed, but Kira caught the subtle glances, the way conversations paused when she entered a room. Word of her unexplained absence had already spread.
Viktor's office occupied the entire top floor of the compound, its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the station. He stood with his back to the door when she entered, his reflection in the glass showing the carefully controlled expression that had intimidated enemies and allies alike for three decades.
"Close the door," he said without turning.
Kira complied, then moved to stand behind the chair she'd occupied the previous day. It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Where were you last night?" Viktor's voice was conversational, almost casual.
"I went to the entertainment district. I needed to clear my head after the negotiations."
"I see." He turned then, and Kira was struck by how tired he looked. Lines she'd never noticed before etched his face, and his usually perfect posture showed signs of strain. "And you felt the need to disable your tracking beacon for this… head-clearing?"
"I wanted privacy."
"Privacy." Viktor moved to his desk and activated a holographic display. "An interesting choice of words. Tell me, daughter, what do you know about the activities of one Zara Voss?"
Kira's blood turned to ice. "She owns a club in the entertainment district."
"She does indeed. She also provides certain… services to individuals who value discretion above all else. According to my sources, you've been a regular patron for the past two years."
The display showed surveillance footage from the *Crimson Nebula*—Kira entering and leaving at various times, always alone, always careful to avoid the main thoroughfares. Her father's intelligence network was more thorough than she'd imagined.
"I go there sometimes," she admitted. "It's quiet."
"Quiet enough for clandestine meetings with enemy operatives?"
"What?" The accusation hit her like a physical blow. "Father, I would never—"
"Wouldn't you?" Viktor's voice remained calm, but there was steel beneath the surface. "Because according to my intelligence, Julian Capulet also frequents establishments that cater to those seeking privacy. It would be a simple matter to arrange a meeting through mutual contacts."
"That's not what happened."
"Then what did happen? Because you were gone for fourteen hours, Kira. Fourteen hours during which you could have been anywhere, doing anything, meeting anyone."
The trap was perfectly constructed. Her father suspected her of treason, but he didn't know the full extent of her activities. If she admitted to meeting Julian, she would confirm his worst fears. If she lied, she would be building a foundation of deception that would inevitably collapse.
"I went to Ms. Voss's establishment," she said carefully. "I had some personal matters to consider."
"Personal matters."
"Yes."
Viktor studied her face for a long moment, then moved to pour himself a glass of water from the service near his desk. "I've been lenient with you, Kira. More lenient than I should have been. Your grief over Marcus's death, your anger at the Capulets—I understood these things. I even admired your passion."
"Father—"
"But passion without discipline is weakness. And weakness in this family is not tolerated." He set down the glass and faced her fully. "You are my heir. The future of everything we've built rests on your shoulders. I cannot afford to have you compromised by… personal matters."
"I'm not compromised."
"Aren't you?" Viktor activated another display, this one showing a map of the station with two blinking dots. "This is your location last night. And this is Julian Capulet's location. Notice how they converge at approximately midnight in the residential district."
Kira's heart stopped. Her father knew. Not everything, perhaps, but enough to destroy her.
"I can explain—"
"No." Viktor's voice cut through her words like a blade. "You cannot explain. Because there is no explanation that would make this acceptable. Meeting secretly with the enemy, disabling your security protocols, lying to your family—these are not the actions of a loyal daughter."
"I am loyal to this family."
"Are you? Because your actions suggest otherwise." Viktor moved closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "Tell me, Kira. Are you sleeping with Julian Capulet?"
The question hung in the air like a weapon. Kira felt the weight of her father's gaze, the implications of whatever answer she gave. If she said yes, she would be confirming her treason. If she said no, she would be lying to the one person who had always been able to see through her deceptions.
"It's not what you think," she said finally.
"Then what is it?"
"It's complicated."
"Complicated." Viktor's laugh was bitter. "Do you know what happened to the last person who found our family business 'complicated'? He was found floating in the vacuum near the outer docking bays. Accidents happen in space, daughter. Even to family members."
The threat was clear, and it sent ice through Kira's veins. But beneath the fear, something else stirred—anger at being treated like a child, at having her choices questioned by a man who had built his empire on violence and intimidation.
"Is that what happened to Marcus?" she asked, her voice steady despite the danger. "Did he become too 'complicated' for the family?"
Viktor's expression went completely still. "What did you say?"
"I said, is that what happened to my brother? Did he start asking the wrong questions? Did he become a liability?"
"Marcus died in a Capulet attack. You know this."
"I know what you told me." Kira reached into her pocket and withdrew the data chip Julian had given her. "But I also know what really happened."
She moved to Viktor's desk and inserted the chip into his private terminal. The security footage began to play, showing the same scenes she'd witnessed the night before—the planning, the attack, the accidental explosion that had killed Marcus.
Viktor watched in silence, his expression unreadable. When the footage ended, he turned off the display and faced her.
"Where did you get this?"
"Julian Capulet gave it to me."
"And you believed him?"
"I verified it." The lie came easily, born of necessity. "The authentication codes check out. The footage is genuine."
"I see." Viktor moved to his window, gazing out at the station's bustling activity. "So you've learned that your brother's death was an accident. That the Capulets intended to steal our cargo, not start a war. Does this change anything?"
"It changes everything."
"Does it? They're still our enemies, Kira. Still the family that has been bleeding us dry for decades. One accident doesn't erase a lifetime of competition."
"But it might be the foundation for peace."
"Peace." Viktor's voice was contemplative. "An interesting concept. Tell me, daughter, what price would you pay for peace?"
The question felt like another trap, but Kira had come too far to turn back now. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that peace between our families would require sacrifice. Compromise. The kind of arrangements that bind organizations together in ways that simple treaties cannot."
"Such as?"
Viktor turned back to her, and she was surprised to see something that might have been approval in his eyes. "Such as marriage. A union between the Montrose and Capulet heirs that would cement any alliance we might forge."
The words hit her like a physical blow. "Marriage?"
"It's not an uncommon practice. The Syndicate families have been using matrimonial alliances for generations. A wedding between you and Julian Capulet would give both families what they want—an end to the war, shared resources, and a guarantee that neither side would betray the other."
"You can't be serious."
"I'm always serious about business, Kira. And this would be the ultimate business arrangement." Viktor moved to his desk and activated a new display, this one showing financial projections and territorial maps. "Combined, our families would control sixty percent of the system's trade routes. We'd be unstoppable."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you'll be removed as my heir. Damien will take your place, and you'll be exiled from the family. As for Julian Capulet…" Viktor's smile was cold. "Accidents happen, as I mentioned."
The threat was clear, and it sent despair racing through Kira's veins. Her father had found the perfect way to control her—by using her feelings for Julian against her. If she refused the marriage, Julian would die. If she accepted, she would be trapped in a political arrangement that would destroy any chance of genuine happiness.
"I need time to think," she said.
"Of course. But not too much time. I'll be meeting with Romano Capulet this afternoon to discuss the possibility. If he's amenable, we'll announce the engagement at tonight's reception."
"Tonight?"
"The Syndicate Council is hosting a gala to celebrate the peace negotiations. All the major families will be present. It would be the perfect opportunity to demonstrate our commitment to ending the war."
Kira felt the walls closing in around her. "And if Romano refuses?"
"Then we'll continue as we have been. But I suspect he'll be interested. A marriage alliance would solve both our problems quite elegantly."
Viktor moved to the door, then paused. "Oh, and Kira? You're confined to the compound until the reception. I'm sure you understand the necessity."
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Kira alone with her racing thoughts. She had perhaps six hours before her father's meeting with Romano, six hours to find a way out of the trap that was closing around her. But first, she needed to warn Julian.
She activated her comm unit and sent a message to his private channel: *Need to meet. Urgent. Same place as before.*
The response came back immediately: *Impossible. Being watched. Will try to contact you later.*
Kira stared at the message, her heart sinking. If Julian was under surveillance, it meant Romano suspected something as well. Both families were moving to control their heirs, to prevent any unauthorized contact between them.
She was trapped.
A soft chime announced another message, this one from an account she didn't recognize: *Balcony outside your quarters. Five minutes. Come alone. - Z*
Zara. Somehow, the club owner had found a way to contact her. Kira glanced around the office, noting the security cameras and listening devices that monitored every word and movement. Getting to her private balcony without being detected would be challenging, but not impossible.
She left Viktor's office and made her way to the residential wing, moving with the casual confidence of someone who had nothing to hide. Her quarters occupied a corner of the compound's living area, with a small balcony that overlooked the station's central hub. The space was technically private, but she had no doubt it was monitored.
The balcony's sliding door was equipped with a manual override, a safety feature that allowed access even during power failures. Kira activated it and stepped outside, feeling the artificial breeze from the station's atmospheric processors.
Zara was waiting for her, somehow having scaled the exterior wall of the compound. She wore form-fitting black clothing that allowed her to blend with the shadows, and her usual elegant appearance was replaced by the practical efficiency of someone accustomed to dangerous work.
"You're in trouble," Zara said without preamble.
"How did you—"
"I have my sources. Your father knows about your meeting with Julian. He's planning to use it against you."
"I know. He wants to arrange a marriage."
"And you're going to refuse."
It wasn't a question, and Kira found herself hesitating. "If I refuse, he'll kill Julian. If I accept, I'll be trapped in a political arrangement that will destroy any chance of happiness."
"Then you need a third option."
"Which is?"
Zara's smile was sharp as a blade. "You disappear. Both of you. Tonight, during the reception when security is focused on the gala. I can get you off the station."
"And go where? There's nowhere in this system that either family couldn't find us."
"There are places," Zara said mysteriously. "Worlds beyond the reach of the Syndicate families. Places where you could start over."
"You're talking about exile."
"I'm talking about freedom." Zara moved closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you care about him, Kira. I saw it in your eyes last night. But more than that, I care about you. I won't let your father destroy you for the sake of his empire."
The offer was tempting, almost overwhelming in its simplicity. Run away with Julian, leave the responsibilities and expectations behind, start fresh somewhere beyond the reach of their families' hatred. But it would mean abandoning everything she'd worked for, everyone she'd sworn to protect.
"I can't," she said finally. "The family depends on me."
"The family is using you."
"Maybe. But they're still my family."
Zara's expression was disappointed but not surprised. "Then you'll need to find another way to save him."
"Such as?"
"Such as making sure the marriage happens on your terms, not your father's." Zara pulled a small device from her pocket and pressed it into Kira's hand. "This is a secure communicator. If you change your mind, use it. I'll be waiting."
She was gone before Kira could respond, disappearing over the balcony's edge with the same silent grace she'd used to arrive. Kira stood alone in the artificial breeze, staring at the device in her hand and wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
Inside the compound, preparations for the evening's reception were already underway. She could hear the sounds of activity—servants preparing the ballroom, security teams coordinating their coverage, family members discussing strategy and alliances. The machinery of power grinding forward, indifferent to the human cost.
But as she stood there, watching the station's lights flicker like distant stars, Kira began to form a plan. It was dangerous, perhaps impossible, but it was her only chance to save Julian while protecting her family's interests.
She was going to turn her father's trap into a weapon.
The question was whether she could pull it off before it destroyed them all.