ANDROMA
WHEN ANDI WAS YOUNGER, she’d watched the Ucatoria Ball on the feeds in her parents’ living room.
No matter which planet the ball took place on, the room on the feed always shone, as if glitter were cascading down upon the partygoers like a constant, shimmering rain. She’d always turned on the holo feature so that the flickering images of dancers filled the room. It was as if they’d been transported right from the Ucatoria Ball into Andi’s home. When the music played on the feed, she danced to its beat and fell into step among the glamorous patrons.
Women in lush gowns danced beside her, while others twirled through the couch at her back. Partners spun atop the coffee table, then glided right through Andi as if she was simply a part of them and they of her.
She’d always dreamed of attending the ball, but when it came time for the dancing to end, and the host system’s leader to make his or her speech, Andi had always frowned, turned off the holo and found other things to occupy her time.
Tonight, she wished she could do the very same.
But the host of this year’s Ucatoria was General Cortas, and he wasn’t just a holo before her. He was flesh and blood as he stood on the dais at the front of the room, his golden suit blinding in the bright lights over his head. Cameras hovered beside him, catching every detail of the general’s face.
He looked ten years younger tonight, as if he’d put on a second skin to hide his age.
But his true self still lay beneath.
“I’m going to need another drink after this speech,” Breck said as Andi joined her crew at their table.
“Have you seen Dex?” Andi whispered, glancing around the room.
Breck shrugged her large shoulders. “He said he was going to the bar. I’m sure he’s already guzzling his jealousy away.”
Her words trailed off as the crowd fell silent. Behind General Cortas, the other system leaders took their places, seated on plush throne-like chairs, the colors of their respective systems woven into the fabric.
“Citizens of Mirabel,” the general began. His voice, usually so cold, was dripping with a charm that made Andi want to retch. “Welcome,” he said, lifting his arms wide, “to the fifteenth annual Ucatoria Ball!”
The crowd cheered, ladies gently tapping their fans against their palms, joyous laughter ringing across the room like the tinkling of bells.
General Cortas grinned as he waited for silence to wash over the room again. “For fifteen years, the Unified Systems have lived in peace. Tonight, we celebrate that unity!” He gestured toward his fellow system leaders. “Let us extend a warm Arcardian welcome to the leaders of the Stuna, Tavina and Prime Systems!”
The crowd cheered again as the leaders behind the general stood together, hands raised in celebration. Governor Kravan of the Tavina System had hair utterly bleached of color, just like Solera, the ice planet where he lived. To the right was General Polerana of the Prime System. She was a muscular woman who looked like she could split Governor Kravan in half. Beneath her black military uniform, Andi could see constellation tattoos crisscrossing her body just like Dex’s, the sign of a Tenebran Guardian.
Andi’s eyes then fell on Alara, the most breathtaking of them all. She stood with her shoulders back, her small pointed chin held high in a stance that spoke of Adhiran grace. Her bald head was adorned with a glittering green crown, vines and white moonflowers woven intricately around it like delicate, living jewels.
General Cortas extended a hand in her direction. “An extra warm greeting, my friends, for our dear Queen Alara of Adhira, who has journeyed far to show her people’s resilience and bravery during the aftermath of the grievous attack on her planet.”
She stood and gave the crowd a slight smile, one that looked empty, almost sad. She touched her forehead, an Adhiran sign of gratitude, before sitting back down.
The general pressed a hand to his heart, sending a look of utmost honor toward Alara. Andi imagined him practicing that look before the mirror today, ensuring that he’d look the ever-concerned leader of Arcardius.
He turned back to the crowd, a smooth smile on his thin lips. “Many years ago, these four systems came together and declared a shared desire for unity. Tonight, we celebrate that unity. We celebrate the fact that the Unified Systems, though light-years apart, are one system. One world spread across many.”
More clapping. The levitating cameras flashed as the general showed off his practiced smile.
“Together, we remain as strong as we were on that final day of battle over a decade ago. Today, we continue to keep our trading ports open, to share new knowledge between the brightest scholars of each system and to be constant in our communications with one another. Why, just yesterday, I caught my wife sending a com to Governor Kravan’s wife. I believe the topic of discussion was how closely they could match their gowns without too many people taking notice.”
The crowd erupted with polite laughter.
“I told you matching gowns were all the rage,” Gilly muttered to Breck.
Andi’s skin itched from this speech. This was a waste of her time.
In a few more hours, she and her crew would go free. She would take off this gown, don her bodysuit and swords and they’d be off to take back the Marauder, piloting it toward some other mission. Some distant place, far away from the shimmer and shine of Arcardius.
But for now, the speech droned on and on, and Andi lost herself in watching the crowd instead. Some smiles were genuine, like that of an expectant mother across the room, her hands splayed across her swollen belly as she watched General Cortas speak of the future and an ever-brighter tomorrow for the galaxy.
Across the room, a group of girls clustered together, giggling silently as their parents sent them looks of disapproval. A few feet away, two handsome young Arcardian soldiers, their hair groomed back and glowing under the lights, watched the girls with open interest.
Later, Andi knew, they’d walk up to the girls, try to win them over with their smooth words. Hopefully, if the girls were smart, they’d shut the boys down.
But they likely wouldn’t. They’d dance together. They’d plan their futures, set on moving higher and higher up in society until they reached the top, just as Andi’s parents had.
Andi sighed and glanced over at Valen. He stood in the shadows of the stage, his mother beside him with a gloved hand on his shoulder.
Maybe, in another life, Andi and Valen would have been the same.
Two young Arcardians with bright futures, possibly joined together as society deemed they should be.
Now Valen was staying here.
And she would be gone, never to return.
Their eyes met for a moment, and the new friendship between them made Andi’s chest ache a little. She rolled her eyes and pretended to yawn.
He smiled, as if he wanted to laugh. But then something passed over his eyes, and he looked away, his jaw tight.
“Valen,” the general said. “My son. Would you join me?”
Valen approached the podium with his mother in tow. They looked like the perfect family to anyone who didn’t know about Valen’s kidnapping, the general’s devilish dealings and the way Merella often turned a blind eye for the sake of the family’s reputation.
Everyone in the crowd craned their necks, eager to get an up-close look at the lost son, returned home at last. Andi watched, too, not because Valen was a spectacle, but because she knew, perhaps more than anyone, that he hated to be on display.
Merella stopped short, and Valen’s footsteps were the only sound in the room as he walked across the stage to join his father.
General Cortas placed a hand on Valen’s shoulder.
Andi noticed the flinch. Almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless. For a moment, Valen looked stiff and pained, as if the darkness of Lunamere was threatening to appear in this room, in front of this crowd and all the watching eyes across Mirabel.
But then he relaxed, sank into the persona of the smooth politician’s son he’d been trained to be since birth.
“We are a resilient galaxy,” General Cortas said, staring into the cameras, “fully capable of coming back stronger than ever before.” He squeezed Valen’s shoulder. “My son is proof of this. Many of you know that Valen, my precious firstborn, was taken by Xen Pterran mercenaries two years ago.”
The crowd nodded, hushed sounds of disapproval and sadness sweeping across the room.
The general pressed a hand to his heart as if he was touched by their concern. “Thanks to an Arcardian-born hired hand,” he said, pointedly not looking at Andi, “he has made it back safe and sound.”
The crowd roared, and the general raised his hands, his voice booming into the mic.
“Having my son back home after two years of imprisonment on Xen Ptera is proof of our strength and resilience in even the most trying of times. We will not be broken! We will not bow to fear!” He held a hand out to Valen.
With strange, almost broken steps, Valen moved forward.
General Cortas placed a hand on his son’s cheek and smiled.
Valen did not smile back.