Queen of Starlight by Jessa Slade

refrain, had faded with distance before he snapped, “Why in a million tiny stones would you do that? The song isn’t for them.” He widened the scowl to encompass Corso as well.
    Rislla put her hand on his arm. “Be easy, child.”
    “Easy? None of this is easy. And now Benedetta is giving away the only thing we have left, our l’auraly secrets—”
    Corso snorted. “It was a song.” Although the haunting lines lingered in his head.
    Had anyone ever wanted to be his sky?
    Icere tossed a tablet across Corso’s thighs. Would have landed higher if Corso hadn’t stopped it with the flat of his hand. “There is your pilot’s estimate of the mortar drop clock.”
    Corso didn’t trigger the tablet, only stared from under lowered brows at Icere until the youth shifted uneasily. Satisfied, Corso turned his attention to the older woman. “If I’m going to work up a counterattack, I want to see what your people have already developed. I need a map of sensor dead zones in the planetary rings, and your system rep contact info too. If the UU is actually involved, you can’t make an appeal to them for aid, but I can start hunting down who might want to brainwash the universe. That could be useful information for stopping them. And I also need the location of the crystal mine.”
    Rislla nodded at Icere. “Send it. Except the vein coordinates.”
    Corso dredged up his scowl again, but Rislla stared back, unaffected. At least he knew where Benedetta got her glare-proof shields. “How am I supposed to help you?”
    “You can do that without knowing anything more about the l’auraly.” She smiled. “Besides, everyone knows pleasure slaves have no secrets of their own, just silly songs.”
    She drifted out with Icere behind her.
    Corso swore to himself and pushed back the covers. Benedetta made a breathless sound and he turned his glare on her. “If you’re going to tell me to stay in bed—”
    But her focus on the parts of him he’d unveiled made him forget the rest of the complaint.
    Except now he was thinking about staying in bed. Her bed.
    She looked…enthralled. The heat churning through his veins was half embarrassment. He’d never heard any whining from his past partners—at least not bad whining—but he didn’t fancy himself anything special either. His equipment was standard issue, if slightly upgraded proportionally.
    “Where are my clothes?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so rough, but the weight of her gaze over his flesh was going to get interesting in a moment.
    With one last lingering glance, she turned to a small wardrobe. His clothes hung tidily within, and when she handed them over, only the scent of fresh air clung to them. He mumbled his thanks and turned sideways to her.
    Tangle it, but he wanted her to touch him with the same fervor that simmered in her eyes. He yanked his trousers up quickly, only wincing a little when bending strained his ribs.
    “Your back.” She reached out as if she might touch him, but he flinched away.
    “Long healed.” Though she hadn’t made contact, his skin tingled. He knew he couldn’t feel anything through the knots of scars, but somehow she had managed to work her way past the shield of burned-out flesh. He jerked on his shirt as quickly as he could, as if one layer of fabric could protect him.
    “That happened on Lasa-Sept.” She made it a statement, not a question, which meant she’d read his file somewhere. “When they said you carried the battle, I didn’t realize they meant on your shoulders.”
    “I didn’t carry it alone.”
    “But you were the only one who walked away a hero.”
    “I was one of the few who walked away at all. That’s not heroism. That’s luck.” And he had no doubt that some of those “lucky” ones wished they’d died with the planet. Sometimes survival came at too high a price.
    “None of the other squadron leaders refused the illegal orders to pacify L-Sept. Only you.”
    “And yet, despite my heroic