Chapter One

Sebastian’s lieutenant stood at the doorway with a smirk on her face. She held out Natasha’s dossier, the red and black folder containing her flight assignment. “Lucky you, Captain Petrov. You get to make a trip to the Penal Colony. And your passenger is a particularly nasty prisoner.”

Natasha pursed her lips, but said nothing. This was not the place to show emotion. If she gave any reaction whatsoever, backing down, a flinch, even a raised eyebrow, it would be interpreted as a sign of weakness. She took the dossier and stepped into the meeting room, moving to the empty seat at the end of the table.

All the pilots sat quietly, listening to Sebastian drone on about the importance of following protocol. Natasha kept from scoffing, but just barely. As if anyone would step out of line. There wasn’t a single pilot in the squadron who would assert herself against Major Sheyanne Sebastian.

“Ah, Captain Petrov, so nice of you to join us,” Sebastian announced, focusing her cold gaze on Natasha. “It’s good to know you’re keeping up with your beauty rest.”

A few pilots snickered. Feminine qualities, like beauty, gentleness and grace, were attributes that were openly disdained by the Maiden Class. While some Maidens might pride themselves on their looks, they would never do so publicly.

Natasha had been a member of the Maiden Class since age thirteen, when she’d received her directive from Parliament. When girls on the planet of Andromeda reached puberty, they were assigned to their respective class. They were either Maidens or Nymphs. Maidens held jobs, while Nymphs married and raised children. Nymphs didn’t work outside of their homes.

Men were scarce on Andromeda. Most Nymphs married. Very few Maidens did.

“I’m sorry, Major,” Natasha answered. “I was delayed.”

She could have given Sebastian details about why she was late, that she’d been combing radio transmissions, searching for a sign of Elise, her twin sister. That excuse would have gotten nowhere. Elise had been missing almost three months. She was presumed dead.

Andromeda had strict rules on mourning the loss of immediate family members. Forty-three days had been deemed sufficient by the Parliament. Any grieving beyond that point was viewed as a scheme to shirk one’s duty. Natasha drew a deep breath, pushed her shoulders back and tried to ignore the sting of tears.

Sebastian either didn’t see her reaction or didn’t care. She set her hands on her narrow waist. “Your assignment is simple enough. Pendleton and back. But your passenger is a Jaegarian male. He killed four sentries last week and has been sentenced to ten years hard labor.”

A hush fell about the room. Every eye was on Natasha. She knew they waited for her to beg for a different task. Outwardly, her squadron was a tightly-knit group of highly-trained pilots, but the group was anything but loyal. In-fighting and back-stabbing was constant and pervasive.

Natasha nodded. “I look forward to the challenge, Major.”

Dangerous missions look good on a resume. She might just volunteer for every prisoner transport. She steeled her emotions to keep from showing any trepidation.

“Of course, you do. The sentries were found with their throats torn open. Security checked video surveillance. They found nothing. No one saw the actual killings, but everyone swears he’s a wolf-shifter.”

Natasha’s blood ran cold. Stories of Jaegarian men abounded. They were a head taller than the average Andromedin male, vicious in battle and, it was said, sexually insatiable. The notion struck her as bizarre. Men on her planet used tonics to fulfill their marital duties, even on their wedding nights. But wolf shifters were said to be even more fierce and totally invincible. What would such a man look like, she wondered.

Her face burned with embarrassment as carnal images turned in her mind. And just as fast, she thought of Elise, her sister who vanished three months ago. All she could feel was shame. How could she entertain such filth? What would Elise say if she knew? Probably tease her mercilessly. Elise was always the fearless one, the one who’d raise her middle finger to both authority and propriety.

“Is Captain Petrov going to be given extra security?”

The question came from Celeste, a pilot Natasha had mentored.

Sebastian arched a brow. “Is that what you’d like, Captain Petrov? A babysitter?”

It was a test. If Natasha agreed, she’d lose face in front of the entire squadron. Prisoner transports came up rarely. They were always the subject of debate. Should the prisoner be manacled? Sedated? Treated humanely or vindictively? Justice or mercy?

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she replied, keeping her tone even. “The bars on the prisoner cell are made of solid titanium. The trip is less than three hours.”

Celeste turned to her. “Not the way you fly. Knowing you, you’ll be there and back in three hours.”

A few pilots chuckled good-naturedly, cutting through some of the tension.

“I will manage alone.”

“Good.” Sebastian turned away and headed for the door. “And Captain,” she said, as the door slid open, “don’t let your soft heart get the best of you. Murderers don’t need to be mentored.”

A wave of laughter moved across the room. The few allies she had, covered their mouths to keep from showing their amusement.

A bell pierced the air, announcing it was time for departures. The women filed out quietly. Sebastian stood just outside and watched her pilots with a scowl, her brows knit. She kept her disapproving gaze on Natasha for a little longer than usual, but didn’t make any more disdainful comments. Natasha heaved a sigh of relief when she was well away. She wouldn’t have to endure the woman’s scorn until the beginning of the next rotation.

She trailed the rest of her squad out to the docking station. Her ship would be the last to leave because of her dangerous mission. If the prisoner turned on the sentries, it would be best if there were few people around to get hurt.

She could feel Sebastian’s gaze burning into her back as she walked down the hallway. Some of the cadets spoke of the Commanding Officer’s late-night meetings. There were whispers of money changing hands from wealthy donors to Sebastian. Cadets suggested the woman was taking bribes on construction of a new docking station in the southern hemisphere, an allegation almost too outlandish to imagine.

Before turning the corner, she looked over her shoulder. Sebastian and one of her minions glared back. Natasha turned away and entered the docking station.