In the comm center on Hillas’ earthside base, Nalea watched the screen spanning the wall in front of her. Her “father” stood at her side. The room, with its whirring machines, brought a cold tang to the air, amping up her restlessness.

Otas pointed at the screen. “Isolate that range and zoom in.”

Two comm-techs sat at stations, tapping away on their screens as they analyzed the latest video feed.

The comm beeped, and Nalea’s nerves gave a jolt. The past fifteen days of playing along with Otas had proved exhausting. She’d been careful to not displease him, but it was only a matter of time. He was paranoid, convinced Roden would make his bid for power soon. And, as an imposter, he wasn’t confident the Draeken people would side with him over a war hero. Not that she disagreed.

She was surprised to see the guardsmen and comm-techs on this base loyal to a known imposter. Many she’d seen held disdain in their features whenever they were near Otas, yet they did as he bade them. It made no sense to her, but then, Draeken protocols often made no sense to her.

His scientists back on the core ship were working day and night to upgrade the power cells. But the core ships had apparently been built with nothing in excess. They were a monument of technology but required all power cells for full functionality. Luckily, upgrading power cells was a tedious, manual modification and the only reason why Otas couldn’t flee to a ship, let alone put up a force barrier around the base. Even with Draeken working earthside on power chips for the base, he didn’t have enough firepower yet to cover an escape; not with the Sephians and humans surrounding them with heavy artillery.

“There,” Otas said.

“I don’t see anything,” the older of the two comm-techs said.

Nalea eyed the Draeken, wondering if he was loyal to Roden.

Otas scowled and then placed his hand on the comm-tech’s shoulder. “I know you see it. Stop your delays. Do I need to remind you that you should not displease me?”

“Your Highness,” the comm-tech said as he typed on the screen. The video on the screen froze and enlarged. At first it seemed the normal amount of movement outside the base, given that they’d been under surveillance by the humans for a couple of weeks. The humans had been moving in more heavy equipment and troops daily, and patrols flew over every hour.

Soon, an impenetrable fortress would surround the base, yet Otas continued to gamble that he could modify enough power chips on the base to throw up a force barrier. Exactly where the ship—or ships—were currently located, Nalea didn’t know. Otas trusted no one.

“Move the frame forward by three. What is that?” Otas said, and the image changed slightly. It’d been nearly ten minutes since the blip had appeared and disappeared, and they’d yet to decipher the images. The issue was blips simply didn’t happen with Draeken technology. Their technology was far superior to both human and Sephian equipment. The split-second blip they’d picked up could have been a bird or a fleet, but it hadn’t appeared again. Whoever—or whatever—was heading toward the base was using Draeken stealth abilities to bypass radar sensors.

Roden.

Her fingers brushed against the metal around her neck. Warmed by her skin, she’d grown accustomed to its constant hum, a reminder that she was nothing more than Otas’s slave. She’d find a way to kill Otas, even if it meant her death… though she preferred to live.

Her gaze dropped to the tattooed wings of the two comm-techs seated before her. Each pair was decorated with family crests that denoted honored lineages. One pair displayed names and scenes from battles he’d participated in. Neither pair of tattooed wings was nearly as complete as Roden’s. His tattoos spanned the surface of his wings as a proud display of a life truly lived.

The wings blocked the comm-techs from her view. One of the guardsmen Nalea had met for the first time this week. He was young, barely a grown Draeken, and had been too young to fight during much of the war. Their numbers were so low that guardsmen were performing multiple duties now. The other comm-tech, she’d met in battle back on Sephia, and again on Earth when the Draeken attacked her base last year. She thought she’d killed him both times. As she stared at the screen, she wondered what else she’d been wrong about.

“I broke the encryption,” the younger Draeken said.

The blip returned; this time as a group of blips filling the screen. Details on each ship were being added as the computer deciphered the images. At least a dozen rotor transports and another dozen Sephian and Draeken ships were closing in fast. Whoever had slipped the blocking encryption program past their defenses had known exactly what they were doing. An invasion was coming, and it was already nearly upon them. It had Roden’s signature all over it.

“Immediate full lockdown. And be quick about it,” Otas said, his voice shriller than usual. An alarm sounded. He lifted his wrist-comm. “Status of the upgrade?”

“Working on it,” a voice replied curtly through his wrist-comm.

“Work faster!” He then stepped to the wall and tapped several buttons. When he spoke, his voice echoed through the speakers in the room. “The base is under attack. Do not show mercy, as they will show you none.”

He waved curtly at her. “You need to make your announcement a bit earlier than I’d planned.”

Nalea nodded, but he’d already stepped past her. Her breath quickened as she scanned the area around her, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her eyes fell on a blaster holstered at Elng’s hip, the elite guardsman at the door. She glanced up to find Elng watching her suspiciously.

She swallowed, lifted her chin, and walked past him to follow Otas into the hallway. Elng couldn’t have been sure she’d eyed his weapon with her dark glasses on, which meant he didn’t have enough evidence to take to Otas. She strolled confidently behind the Grand Lord imposter as he walked brusquely to the next door down the hall. He entered his office, sat down, and a panel on the wall immediately lit up, displaying the impending attack.

She waited until the door shut behind her before speaking. “You could escape in the chaos.”

He eyed her. “Draeken never flee.”

Your people fled Sephia.

He motioned to her side. “Stand in front of the wall, there.”

She obeyed as she mentally went through ways she could incapacitate a neurotic Otas who’d only to reach his wrist to kill her.

The floor rocked, sending her off balance, and she grabbed the desk. The panel went blank.

“No!” Otas punched at the screen, but it remained blank. “It seems Roden prefers us to be blind and deaf.” He huffed. “Your announcement will come later. But, do not fear, Nalea; we’ll kill him. Together.”

It was then she noticed the leftover dinner plate and utensils. A small chunk of charred meat with gravy remained. Resting across on the plate was a fork and a steak knife. She took a step forward.

Otas was saying something, and Nalea looked up.

“But they’re not ready,” a voice replied through his wrist-comm.

“They have to be ready!” he shrilled.

Nalea watched him carefully. “The power cells could explode if they’re not functioning right.”

“They’ll work,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re just delaying.” He continued to type on the blank screen as though the schema would come back online.

She edged closer to the desk. She put her hand over the two utensils and pulled them behind her back.

Heaving a sigh, he looked up exasperated. Then he glanced down at his desk, looked back up at her and grabbed his wrist. “Don’t even think it.”

Nalea cocked her head and then held the knife up. “Afraid I may try to slit your throat?” You should be.

He held up his wrist, the one with the black controller strapped around it. She rolled her eyes. “Even if you managed to kill me, my pulse stops, you die. That is, if I don’t kill you first. Just the press of one button is all it takes.”

His breathing hitched. Then she held it out, palm open, to him. “And lose my shot at killing Roden Zyll?” She smiled. “Not a chance.”