Page 16

ADRIANA

I walk back to my quarters in a trance.

My mind reels in denial, but reality is crashing in. As the doors hiss shut behind me, I allow myself a moment of weakness, sitting down heavily on the bed, my head in my hands, leaning over. I’m awash with emotion.

I let the anger rise up through the despair. I wave my hand, prompting the holo-vid display on my desk to activate in the star-map of my territories, and my jaw clenches as I watch the huge, pure white warship Imperator traveling forward.

It crosses into our territories, and my hand closes into a tight fist.

The next centuries will see much prosperity.

The planetary representatives and the Administration are thinking in decades, centuries, of the gain and wealth they will bring to Pentaris and its five planets.

And in a thousand years, I can see it so clearly.

The Aurelian flag raised on my planets. Their ships soaring overhead.

Our cultures, lost and consumed by the might of the Empire.

They will be heralded as heroes, saviors, and each year, as we rely on them more, our own fierce independence will wane.

In a thousand years, Pentaris will simply be another sector under Aurelian control.

Unless I stop it.

I spit out a string of commands, and the holo-vid focuses in on Magnar.

The surface is a constantly shifting metallic landscape, huge plates sliding, volcanos spitting out fire.

Most of the inhabitants spend their lives underground, rarely coming onto the surface, where on the greatest, most stable tectonic plates, there are small cities, nothing compared to the underground mazes of factories, mines and underground metropolises.

I move the view as a massive plume of ash and smoke rises from one of the volcanos, obscuring my vision, and I zoom in on small black dots that become people as I enhance the satellite view.

Squat, strong men and woman, in steel suits with visors black against the sun, they are using handheld scanning devices, searching for minerals and ores pushed to the surface by the volcanic activity.

The current cycle of planetary rotation means that Magnar, the innermost planet to our sun, is closest to us.

Frosthold is at its farthest state, touching the border before the neutral zone that separates us from the Toad Kingdom, the neutral zone where more and more of their ugly ships have been spotted, buzzing our borders and testing our resistance.

Magnar is where we are headed.

And Magnar is where I will stop the Aurelian advance for good.

I picture myself deep below the planet’s surface, clad in one of their cooling suits, the black glasses shielding my eyes from magma flows.

The Aurelian triad will have a choice—call off the wedding and leave immediately…

Or be burned to a crisp.