Stellar Vendetta
Chapter 1: The Helix
The Helix Station rotated through the void like a massive silver flower, its seven petals catching the light of distant stars. Each petal housed a different sector of the station's sprawling metropolis, connected by graceful bridges that curved through the artificial atmosphere dome. To the casual observer, it was a marvel of human engineering—a self-sustaining city among the stars where a quarter million souls lived, worked, and dreamed.
Kira Montrose knew better. She pressed her palm against the observation deck's viewport, watching the cargo freighters dock at the station's industrial sector. Each ship carried more than legitimate trade goods. Hidden in their holds were the real treasures: quantum processors from the Rigel colonies, neural enhancement drugs from the outer systems, and sometimes, if the price was right, people who didn't want to be found.
"Contemplating the beauty of commerce, cousin?"
The voice behind her carried the lazy drawl of old money and older privilege. Kira didn't turn around. "Just watching the ships, Damien. The same thing I've been doing for the past hour."
Damien Montrose settled beside her, his expensive suit perfectly tailored to his lean frame. Unlike Kira's practical dark clothing, every thread of his attire announced his status as heir to one of the Helix's most powerful families. "Father's looking for you. The Capulet delegation arrives in two hours."
"I know." Kira's reflection in the viewport showed a young woman of twenty-two, her dark hair pulled back in a severe bun, her pale blue eyes holding depths that seemed older than her years. "I've been ready for weeks."
"Ready to play the dutiful daughter, or ready to start another war?"
This time she did turn, fixing him with a look that could have flash-frozen plasma. "The Capulets murdered my brother. They destroyed three of our supply lines in the Centauri system. They've been bleeding us dry for two years. What exactly am I supposed to be ready for, Damien? A tea party?"
Her cousin's expression softened. Marcus Montrose's death had hit the family hard, but it had devastated Kira. The youngest son had been her closest confidant, the one person who understood her frustration with the family's "business" and her dreams of something more legitimate. His death in what the authorities called a "shipping accident" had hardened something in her that worried even the most ruthless members of the Montrose syndicate.
"I'm supposed to be ready to negotiate," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "To sit across from the people who killed Marcus and smile while we discuss territory divisions and profit margins. To pretend that credits can replace blood."
"Kira—"
"Don't." She held up a hand. "I know what's expected of me. I know my role. The dutiful daughter who'll smile and nod while the old men carve up the system between them. But I also know something else."
Damien waited.
"I know that Romano Capulet's son will be part of their delegation. The heir apparent. And I know that accidents happen in space all the time."
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the station's rotation systems. Finally, Damien spoke. "Father specifically said no violence during the negotiations. The Syndicate Council is watching both our families."
"Of course." Kira's smile was sharp as a blade. "I wouldn't dream of disrupting the peace talks."
The comm unit on Damien's wrist chimed, and he glanced at it with a frown. "They're early. The Capulet ship just docked at Bay Seven."
"How convenient." Kira smoothed her clothes and checked her reflection one last time. "I suppose I should go greet our honored guests."
"Kira, please. Be careful. The Capulets aren't fools, and their son—"
"What about their son?"
"He's not what you'd expect. The intelligence reports say he's been pushing for legitimate business, trying to clean up their operations. Marcus mentioned him once, said he was different from the rest of his family."
Kira's expression went cold. "Marcus mentioned a lot of things. He also mentioned that the Capulets were interested in peace. Look how well that worked out."
She turned and walked toward the observation deck's exit, her footsteps echoing in the vast space. Behind her, Damien called out, "The negotiations are in the Azure Sector. Neutral ground."
"I know where they are," she replied without turning. "I helped plan them."
The transport pod whisked her through the station's central hub, past the gleaming towers of the Banking Sector and the carefully maintained gardens of the Residential District. The Azure Sector occupied the entire third petal of the Helix, its buildings designed in flowing curves that mimicked the station's organic architecture. Here, the major families maintained their public offices, their legitimate businesses, and their meeting spaces for occasions when enemies needed to speak without killing each other.
The Montrose compound occupied three levels of a sapphire-colored tower, its walls lined with artwork from across the galaxy. Kira's father had always believed that beauty was a form of power, and he surrounded himself with the finest things his empire could buy. Rare Altairan sculptures stood beside paintings from Earth's Renaissance masters, while exotic plants from the Vega system created small gardens throughout the offices.
She found Viktor Montrose in his study, reviewing holographic displays of shipping schedules and profit margins. At sixty-two, he remained an imposing figure—tall, silver-haired, with the kind of presence that commanded attention in any room. The cybernetic implant behind his left ear flickered with soft blue light as he processed data streams from across the system.
"Kira." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "How are you feeling?"
"Ready, Father." She settled into the chair, her posture perfect despite the tension in her shoulders. "The Capulets won't know what hit them."
"That's not what I meant." Viktor's gray eyes studied her face. "I meant how are you feeling about seeing them again. About sitting in the same room as the people who killed your brother."
The question caught her off guard. In the two years since Marcus's death, her father had rarely acknowledged the personal cost of their war with the Capulets. Business was business, he'd always said. Emotions were a luxury they couldn't afford.
"I feel like I'm about to honor my family," she said finally. "Like I'm about to do what's necessary to protect what we've built."
"Good." Viktor closed the holographic displays and leaned back in his chair. "Because I need you to understand something. These negotiations aren't just about territory or profit. They're about survival. The Syndicate Council is tired of our war, and they're prepared to eliminate both families if we can't make peace."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because I've heard rumors that you're planning something. That you think you can solve our problems with a blade or a poison dart."
Kira kept her expression neutral. "I would never jeopardize the family's interests."
"That's not what I asked." Viktor stood and walked to the window, gazing out at the station's bustling commercial district. "I asked whether you understand that violence during these negotiations would be suicide for all of us. The Council has stationed security teams throughout the Azure Sector. They have weapons that could vaporize this entire building in seconds."
"Father—"
"I'm not finished." He turned back to her, and for a moment she saw something vulnerable in his eyes. "I've already lost one child to this war. I won't lose another. You are my heir, Kira. You're the future of this family. But if you let your anger control you, if you do something foolish during these talks, I'll disown you myself."
The words hit her like a physical blow. In all her years of training, preparation, and service to the family, Viktor had never threatened to cut her off. She was his daughter, his chosen successor, the one person he trusted to carry on the Montrose legacy.
"I understand," she whispered.
"Good." Viktor's expression softened slightly. "Now, there's something else you need to know. Romano Capulet is bringing his son to the negotiations. Julian Capulet, age twenty-four, heir to their operations. Intelligence suggests he's been pushing for legitimate business practices, trying to move the family away from the darker aspects of their empire."
"So I've heard."
"I want you to assess him. Talk to him. Find out if he's genuine about peace or if this is another Capulet trick. You're good at reading people, Kira. Better than anyone else I know."
She nodded, though something cold settled in her stomach. Getting close to Julian Capulet would mean suppressing her hatred, pretending to be interested in the son of her brother's killer. The thought made her sick.
"I'll do whatever the family needs," she said.
"I know you will." Viktor returned to his desk and activated a new set of displays. "The meeting is in twenty minutes. Conference Room Seven in the Neutral Zone. Security will escort you there."
Kira stood and smoothed her jacket. "Anything else?"
"Yes." Viktor looked up at her, his expression serious. "Remember that you're a Montrose. We don't break under pressure. We don't show weakness. And we certainly don't let our enemies see us bleed."
"I understand, Father."
"Good. Now go. And Kira?" She paused at the door. "Make me proud."
The security escort consisted of two guards in the silver uniforms of the Syndicate Council, their faces hidden behind reflective visors. They led her through a series of corridors she'd never seen before, past checkpoints that scanned her for weapons and recording devices. The Neutral Zone was a maze of conference rooms and meeting spaces, all designed to prevent any single family from gaining an advantage through familiar territory.
Conference Room Seven was elegant in its simplicity—a round table surrounded by comfortable chairs, walls lined with abstract art that depicted nothing controversial. Three people were already seated when she arrived: her father, looking composed despite the tension in his shoulders; Romano Capulet, a heavy-set man with graying hair and cold eyes; and someone she hadn't expected to see.
Julian Capulet rose when she entered, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.
He was nothing like the reports had described. Intelligence files had painted him as a typical syndicate heir—pampered, ruthless, distinguished only by his supposed interest in legitimate business. The man who stood before her was something else entirely.
Tall and lean, with dark hair that fell in waves to his shoulders and eyes the color of deep space, he moved with the fluid grace of someone equally comfortable in a boardroom or a back-alley fight. His clothes were expensive but understated, and when he smiled, it was with genuine warmth rather than the calculated charm she'd expected.
"You must be Kira," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Julian. I'm sorry for your loss."
The words were simple, but something in his tone made her believe he meant them. She shook his hand, noting the calluses that suggested he was more than just a pampered heir. "Thank you."
"Please, sit." Romano Capulet gestured to the chairs across from him. "We have much to discuss."
As the meeting began, Kira found herself stealing glances at Julian. He spoke eloquently about the need for peace, about the damage their families' war had done to the entire system. When he talked about legitimate business opportunities, his passion was evident. When he mentioned the deaths on both sides, his regret seemed genuine.
It was exactly what she'd expected from a Capulet trick.
But as the hours passed and the negotiations continued, doubt began to creep in. Julian's proposals were detailed, well-researched, and surprisingly fair. He seemed to know as much about Montrose operations as she did, but he spoke about them with respect rather than contempt. When Romano made a particularly aggressive demand, Julian quietly but firmly disagreed with his father.
"The Centauri routes should be shared," he said at one point. "Both families have investments there, and competition will only drive down profits for everyone."
"The Montrose family destroyed our facilities," Romano replied coldly. "We deserve compensation."
"And we lost a supply convoy when your people 'accidentally' fired on our escort ships," Viktor interjected. "Perhaps we should discuss mutual compensation."
Julian held up a hand. "Gentlemen, this is exactly the kind of thinking that's kept us at war for two years. Every attack leads to retaliation, every retaliation to escalation. We need to break the cycle."
Kira found herself nodding before she realized what she was doing. Julian caught the gesture and smiled at her, and she felt something unexpected flutter in her chest. It was immediately followed by self-disgust. This was Marcus's killer's son. His charm was just another weapon.
"Miss Montrose," Julian said, turning his attention to her. "What's your opinion on the trade route proposals?"
She straightened, aware that both fathers were watching her carefully. "I think they're… reasonable. The shared patrol idea has merit, assuming we can work out the details."
"I'm glad you agree. I've been studying your work on the Rigel negotiations last year. Your solution to the mining rights dispute was brilliant."
The compliment caught her off guard. She'd worked for months on that deal, finding a way to give both families access to the lucrative asteroid belt without triggering another war. Very few people outside the family knew the details of her contribution.
"Thank you," she said, then immediately regretted showing any warmth.
"Perhaps," Julian continued, "we could discuss some of the implementation details privately? I have some ideas that might address your father's concerns about security."
Viktor nodded. "That would be acceptable. But I want my daughter accompanied by security at all times."
"Of course." Julian's smile was understanding rather than insulted. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
As the formal meeting concluded and the fathers began discussing schedules and protocols, Julian approached her. "Would you like to get some coffee? There's a café in the Neutral Zone that serves excellent Rigellian blends."
Every instinct screamed at her to refuse. Spending time alone with Julian Capulet—even under guard—felt like a betrayal of Marcus's memory. But her father had ordered her to assess him, to determine if his peaceful intentions were genuine.
"All right," she said. "But we keep the discussion professional."
"Of course." Julian's eyes held a glimmer of something that might have been amusement. "I wouldn't dare suggest otherwise."
As they walked through the corridors of the Neutral Zone, Kira found herself hyperaware of his presence beside her. He moved with quiet confidence, occasionally nodding to the security guards or commenting on the architecture. When they reached the café, he ordered for both of them without asking her preference—and somehow chose exactly what she would have picked.
"You're not what I expected," she said once they were seated at a corner table, their guards positioned discreetly nearby.
"What did you expect?"
"Someone more like your father."
Julian's laugh was genuine and surprisingly warm. "I get that a lot. Romano and I have… philosophical differences about the family business."
"Such as?"
"Such as whether we should be in the business of ending lives or improving them." He leaned forward, his expression serious. "I know what you think of my family, Kira. I know what you think of me. But I need you to understand something."
"What's that?"
"I didn't know about the attack on your brother's convoy until after it happened. When I found out, I was… horrified. I tried to convince my father to reach out to your family, to explain that it wasn't authorized. But the damage was done."
Kira stared at him, searching for any sign of deception. "Are you saying it was an accident?"
"I'm saying it was a mistake. A terrible, unforgivable mistake that cost a good man his life and set our families at each other's throats." Julian's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm saying that I've spent the last two years trying to find a way to make it right."
"You can't bring him back."
"No. But I can try to make sure it never happens again."
The simple sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. This was not the conversation she'd expected to have with Julian Capulet. She'd prepared herself for charm, manipulation, veiled threats. She hadn't prepared for what seemed like genuine remorse.
"Why should I believe you?" she asked.
"Because I'm going to prove it to you." Julian reached into his jacket and withdrew a small data chip. "This contains the security footage from the incident, the communications logs, and the disciplinary records. Everything you need to see what really happened."
Kira stared at the chip as if it were a weapon. "My father's intelligence network couldn't get this information."
"My father's intelligence network is better than yours." Julian's smile was rueful. "But I'm betting your principles are better than his."
She took the chip, her fingers brushing his for just a moment. The contact sent an unexpected jolt through her system. "I'll review it."
"I hope you will. And Kira?" She looked up at him. "I hope you'll give me a chance to prove that not all Capulets are monsters."
As they walked back to the conference room, Kira found herself stealing glances at Julian's profile. He was intelligent, charming, and apparently sincere about wanting peace. He was also the son of the man who'd ordered her brother's death.
The data chip felt heavy in her pocket, a weight that seemed to grow with each step. By the time they reached the conference room, she'd made a decision that would have horrified her an hour earlier.
She was going to give Julian Capulet a chance.
The question was whether she was making the biggest mistake of her life.