ANDROMA
ANDI WAS A SURVIVOR, and always had been.
She’d survived the crash and the death of Kalee, the trial that had branded her with a traitor’s fate. The weeks spent on the run across the galaxy afterward, the months beyond that when Dex had found her. She’d lived through twelve hours a day of training with Dex to hone the skills her father and the Academy had given her, gradually turning into the killer that she was now. She’d sustained cuts and lashes and muscles so sore she’d worried they had snapped, that she would never be able to raise a hand or stand on her own again.
Twelve months later, she’d endured the shattering aftermath of a broken heart from Dex.
And in the past week alone, she’d made it inside Lunamere and escaped with her life, then survived the attack on Adhira. She’d stolen a Xen Pterran warship, battled with a New Vedan giant and lived to tell the tale.
And you almost kissed the man you thought you hated, a voice chided in her head.
But this...her father, as General Cortas’s head Spectre?
This might actually kill her.
He stood behind the general’s chair now, his face impassive as he stared ahead, hands folded before him.
She knew those hands nearly as well as her own. They were the hands that had held her when she’d cried. The hands that had been placed over her own, warm and strong, and taught her how to steer a starship. To block a punch and deliver plenty of her own. Those hands had once pointed into the swirling sky as her father whispered, Someday, Androma, you’ll be up there, following your dreams.
They were also the hands that had never been raised to support her at Kalee’s trial—they had never even flexed a finger when the opportunity came.
Andi wanted to tear those hands from his wrists—almost as much as she wanted to feel them cradling her face now, the way they always had when she was a child.
Before.
Everything was always before.
Andi wanted to scream. She wanted to yank her father into the corner of the room, throw him to his knees in front of her and demand that he explain himself.
And yet she couldn’t. Because she knew—Godstars, she could feel it—that if she made any wrong move in front of the general’s watching, demon eyes, he’d destroy her and her crew. He’d take her straight to the execution chamber and finish what he’d planned to do years ago. Her crew, loyal as they were, would go down swinging in her name. And then they would all be dead. Just like Kalee.
So Andi simply stood there, gritting her teeth so hard she feared they might shatter, and listened to General Cortas speak.
“You may be familiar with my head Spectre,” he said, flipping absentmindedly through a screen on his large desk. He lifted a pale hand, and an egg-shaped servant droid, blue to match the Arcardian flags, wheeled over from the shadows to hand him a pair of ancient eyeglasses on a golden tray. A fashion statement, no doubt, as vision correction tech had been developed thousands of years ago.
The general looked up at Andi as he placed the glasses on. “He took up the position shortly after your trial, Androma.”
Beside her Dex cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, his eyes looking at the bookshelves that lined the dark paneled walls instead of at the people around him, as General Cortas continued to speak.
“He has been my most loyal aide since you left. These past four years, difficult as they have been, with the loss of my daughter and then my son...” He sighed and leaned back a bit into his plush chair. “Well, thanks to Commander Racella, they have been a little easier on me.”
Commander Racella.
Andi glared at the general.
He smiled, clearly amused.
She didn’t want to believe her father would work for a man like General Cortas after all that had happened, or that the general would want to work with the man who had fathered his daughter’s killer. Maybe, as a way of punishing her family, the general had forced her father to work here, day in and day out. Maybe her father hated the general as much as she did.
But he wouldn’t look at her, no matter how much she willed him to.
I’m your daughter, she wanted to scream. I am your own flesh and blood. Look at me.
She opened her mouth to speak, but mercifully, Dex interceded before she could say anything she might regret.
“The attack on Adhira, sir,” he said, his smooth voice drawing the general’s attention. “Is there an update? When we left, Queen Alara was missing and...thousands of innocents were...”
General Cortas lifted a hand to silence him. “It’s been taken care of.”
Dex looked like he might collapse from relief.
The feeling swam through Andi, as well, as she remembered the horrors they’d seen.
“The Xen Pterran attack on Adhira was completely unexpected,” the general said. “An absolute tragedy, of that I have no doubt. I’m grateful you managed to get my son out alive—though, in all honesty, landing on a planet with little to no military presence was not a choice I would have had you make.” He glanced at Andi when he said this, as if she had caused her own ship to malfunction.
The general continued. “A small Soleran fleet has already conquered the rogue Xen Pterran forces, recovering complete control of the situation.”
“Did they come because of Valen?” Andi asked. “Because of...” She cast a sideways glance at Dex. “Because of us?”
“That information is classified,” General Cortas said.
“The hell it is!” Dex growled. “We were there on the ground, risking our asses so we could get your son out alive!”
“Careful, bounty hunter,” the general warned. “A Guardian should know his place.”
Dex did a very un-Dex-like thing and stepped down from the fight she knew he wished to continue. Andi knew he wouldn’t risk forfeiting the status that had once been so precious to him, just like she wouldn’t risk her crew.
General Cortas didn’t just have her in his pocket—he’d placed Dex in there, too.
The general sighed and motioned to Andi’s father. He leaned in close, and the general whispered something into his ear. Her father nodded, then rushed past Andi and Dex toward the office doors.
Andi caught a whiff of his scent as he passed. Honey drops and Arcardian coffee beans. It made her throat ache with wanting, with desperation to be a child again, curled up in his protective arms.
He didn’t even glance her way as he walked out.
Her emotions changed like the wind as the need to hurt him and the desperation to be comforted by him warred within her. “You are aware of the weakened state of Xen Ptera, yes?” the general asked as another Spectre entered the office, assuming her father’s post. General Cortas had always had a team of them to guard his back at all times. “It is quite likely they sent every able soldier they have left to Adhira for the attack. The Soleran fleet has wiped them off the map, and all the efforts the Olen System has made to sway the galaxy in the direction of fear have already been crushed. I’m sure it took years to scrounge up their weapons, years more to find a single citizen willing to fight after such a devastating loss in The Cataclysm.”
“But why now?” Andi asked. “And why Adhira? What about the peace treaty?”
General Cortas raised a brow. “War never really ends, Androma. The desire for revenge is often too strong to forget.”
“And the queen?” Andi asked, desperate for an answer for Lira—and Lon, should he recover.
“Safe,” the general said. “She intends to be here for the Summit, as is required of each leader of the Unified Systems.”
“Cancel the Summit,” Andi said suddenly.
The words slipped from her tongue without a thought, too quickly for her to pull them back in.
The general laughed as if she’d just told him she was going to be his successor. “Why would I do such a thing?”
She was going to dive across his desk and drive her fist into his sagging face.
“Because if there was ever a perfect opportunity for Olen to attack, it would be on this planet, at the Summit. Adhira’s Revalia Festival was just a small taste of what’s to come this week, and with every single leader across Mirabel in attendance...it would be the perfect time to start another war.”
General Cortas drummed his fingertips across his desk, as if trying to keep himself entertained while she spoke. “You were a child when The Cataclysm ended, Androma. You lived here, on my planet, surrounded by bright lights and glittering smiles and enough soldiers to make you feel protected at all times. Never, in all of your years growing up here would you have been afraid. Am I correct in saying that?”
Andi’s face heated. She didn’t answer, so the general went on.
“Arcardius is an iron cage. There is no person, no army in all of Mirabel that can enter it without a key.” He leaned forward, hands splayed on his desk. “I hold that key. I say who enters and who leaves, and the day the Olen System successfully mounts an attack on this planet, the stars will fall from the sky. The Intergalactic Summit is a way of preserving the peace and unity between the Unified Systems, Androma. We’re showing Olen that we will not bend and we will not break. Queen Alara will back me in this.”
He flicked an imaginary bit of fuzz from his shimmering coat and smiled to himself, as if he’d proven his point.
“We delivered your son safely back to you, as requested,” Dex said suddenly. His tone held the calm calculation of a man trying to hold himself back, as if he, too, was fighting to rein in the fury that bubbled just beneath the surface. “Now, I believe we are both owed payment.”
General Cortas removed his glasses and set them down on the desk. “I’ve decided to lengthen the terms of our contract.”
Andi’s stomach felt full of lead. “What?”
The general nodded. “Despite what I’ve said, the events that played out on Adhira cannot be ignored entirely. My son has only just returned home. I can’t risk his safety during the Summit.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Andi asked.
The general smiled at her.
Her insides crawled.
“You may have delivered him home safely, Androma. But that does not mean I am ready to let you go. You will remain here until the Summit is over and all parties from the Unified Systems have returned to their respective planets.” His voice was wicked, a devil hiding behind a soothing smile.
“I decline,” Andi said, crossing her arms.
“The payment, General,” Dex added.
The general ignored their dissent. “You and your crew will be my son’s hired guards for the Ucatoria Ball following the Summit meeting. You said yourself how dangerous it could be.” General Cortas chuckled as he turned to his Spectre. “Please escort these two to the guest quarters to join the others. Ensure that they have ample time to rest in their rooms, with no disturbances.” He smiled at them both. “They’ve had quite a journey thus far.”
“You don’t own us,” Dex protested as the guard made his way around the desk. “If we say no, we say no.”
The general shook his head. “You’re quite wrong on that front, bounty hunter. I have access to all your funds—and your Guardianship title, which I can alter as I please. And you, Androma. I don’t just have your crew—I believe, in fact, that I also have access to your ship.”
“Take the Xen Pterran ship,” Andi snarled. “I don’t give a damn about it.” She hated that he could use her crew and ship to restrain her without physical bonds.
General Cortas chuckled and placed the glasses back on his face. “I’m talking about the Marauder, Androma.”
Andi’s blood turned to ice.
“My ship is on Adhira.”
“For now,” the general said. “But if Queen Alara wishes to enter my system for the Summit and prove to the galaxy that Adhira will not bend to Olen’s attempts to instill fear...” He waved a hand before him. “Ah, well. I am quite certain she will agree to my terms of entry.”
He was going to take the Marauder, just like that.
Andi felt herself careening back into that place of darkness. Her cuffs, heavy on her wrists, ached to become weapons, to swing and collide with his face.
“This wasn’t part of the deal.”
The general did not smile this time when he turned his gaze on her.
“Neither was being delivered a box of my daughter’s remaining bones after you left her to burn in the wreckage of my transport ship. You will stay, continue to do my bidding until the Summit is over and only then, if I am pleased with your work, will you be allowed to go free. Remember, girl. I don’t just have your crew and ship. I also have your life in my hands, and I can easily do away with all three if you don’t comply.”
Each word was a jab she couldn’t block.
Her breath left her lungs in a hiss.
He was playing with her as he would a puppet.
“And the payment?” Dex asked.
“Still on the table,” the general said. He looked down at the screen on his desk. “I’m offering you free room and board and medical care for the Adhiran Sentinel you brought with you. Don’t make me regret my kindness. Now...I’m a busy man, as you may well know. Go now, the both of you, before I change my mind.”
With that, they were dismissed.
Andi turned to Dex, who was already staring at her, lips pressed tightly closed.
General Cortas had them bound up in his will, simply for the fun of it. To prove that he was above them, and always would be.
“Move along,” the general added, just for good measure.
She could kill him now, as easy as breathing.
But Andi knew her crew was now trapped within the confines of Averia, and she’d been the one to lead them in. She hated the thought of telling them they were stuck here, still on this stars-forsaken job.
Bending to the general’s will, so far backward that they might break.
It’s almost over, Andi told herself, trying to stay calm.
“Let’s go, Androma,” Dex said, placing a strong hand on her shoulder. He gripped it tight, as if he knew the thoughts assaulting her. As if he, too, wanted to fight back. He tilted his chin, sniffed the air and grimaced. “This office smells like a home for the elderly.”
Despite herself, Andi smiled as they left the office, trailed by the general’s Spectre.