Page 21

20

T he holographic map of Cryon II flickered with blue light, the shifting orbits of ships and the moon port’s defenses marked with glowing trajectories. Josh, Cassa, and Hutu stood around the central war table, their expressions grim, their minds sharp with the weight of what was coming.

The air in the war room was heavy—a mixture of anticipation, strategy, and the unspoken knowledge that they were running out of time. Andronikos was coming. And he was bringing hell with him.

The ship vibrated beneath their feet as the engines adjusted their position, drifting into the optimal intercept zone ahead of the Legion fleet. Outside, the deep void of space stretched endlessly, but within, the storm was about to break.

Hutu’s voice was measured, his deep resonant tone carrying over the quiet hum of the tactical consoles.

“Andronikos should have been here by now. His fleet is moving slower than expected.”

Josh exhaled sharply. “Because he’s paranoid. Our informant onboard just confirmed it.”

Cassa’s fingers flew over the controls, pulling up the latest transmission from their informant aboard Andronikos’s Battle Cruiser. The message scrolled across the holoscreen in tight, coded script, but the meaning was clear.

Andronikos is unraveling. The closer we get to Cryon II, the more erratic he becomes.

Paranoia is gripping his officers. He believes the trade routes have gone silent as a trap—he is convinced he is being led into an ambush.

Tensions are rising among the Legion captains. Some question his leadership, but the loyalists—his inner circle—keep them in line through fear.

Andronikos has locked down the bridge. No one is allowed inside except his most trusted guards.

Four Battle Cruisers are captained by loyalists. However, many of the crew are there under threat to their families—they fight not out of loyalty, but fear.

If Andronikos’s ship falls, the Legion will collapse. If the chain of command is broken, those fighting under duress will have a chance to surrender.

A Battle Cruiser has been dispatched to Aetherial. Orders: eliminate Dorane, Zoak, and the Ancient Knights. Once Cryon II is destroyed, the fleet will turn its weapons on Aetherial, razing the planet’s settlements before continuing throughout the star system.

A heavy silence followed as the message ended. The muted sounds of the ship and crew filtered through the door of the war room, but no one spoke.

Cassa finally exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “If Andronikos is this paranoid now, he’ll be even more dangerous once the battle starts. He’ll push his fleet to destroy Cryon II, no matter the cost. He won’t care how many of his own ships he loses in the process.”

Josh’s jaw clenched. “Then we need to take him out before he gives the order.”

A soft click sounded as the war room doors slid open. Josh and Hutu stood as Asta entered the room. Her feline-shaped eyes narrowed with sharp intelligence, the subtle gleam of her retractable claws reflecting off the tactical lights. She moved with a silent grace, yet her presence commanded attention.

Josh gave a small nod. “Asta. Thank you for coming.”

Asta dipped her head in greeting, but her gaze was all business. “I do not like leaving Cryon II at a time like this. But since you insist on your reckless plans, I figured I should at least give you some pertinent warnings.”

Josh bowed his head in acknowledgment of Asta’s irritation. She turned toward Hutu and Cassa, her voice cool and unwavering. “If your Gallant forces value their lives, they will stay out of Cryon II’s defensive range.”

Hutu’s eyes sharpened. “Are you saying your people will fire on us?”

Asta’s ears flicked back, her expression neutral. “I am saying that Cryon II’s defense system is not selective. Once the moon port enters full lockdown, no ship—Legion or otherwise—will be allowed in or out without triggering its automated defenses.”

Josh and Hutu exchanged a glance.

Cassa folded her arms. “So what you’re saying is, once you lock Cryon II down, we’d better hope we’re not still in the kill zone.”

Asta bared her teeth in something not quite a smile. “Precisely.”

She flicked her claws over the holo-display, adjusting the map to highlight key defense systems positioned across the moon port. “Zoak planted multiple explosives within our infrastructure. We dismantled them. The new system Dorane, Jammer, and I have developed is meant to optimize Cryon II’s defenses and keep the moon port safe. You focus on taking down Andronikos’s fleet. My focus is keeping my people alive.”

Josh nodded, studying the systems Asta was pointing out. “That’s a remarkable defense system.”

Cassa’s voice was steady. “We have no choice but to disable the Legion fleet without destroying it outright. If we strand their ships in space, we can buy time to separate the loyalists from the unwilling.”

Asta’s tail flicked in irritation. “This is war. You don’t get to pick and choose who dies.”

Josh met her gaze. “It may be that the majority of the people on the Legion ships don’t want to be there. This is the smart play to reduce our enemy’s numbers, but more importantly, we are not the Legion. If it is possible to save lives, Asta, we will try to do that.”

Asta let out a slow exhale, but she gave a sharp nod of understanding. Hutu leaned forward, his massive arms crossed over his chest.

“What about the Battle Cruiser heading toward Aetherial?” His voice darkened. “If that ship gets through, we could lose Dorane, Zoak, and the Ancient Knights.”

Josh’s fists curled at his sides. The weight of the decision pressed like a vice around his chest.

Hutu turned to him. “Josh, I recommend you and Cassa go to Aetherial and intercept the Legion cruiser.”

Josh looked up sharply. “What? What about the fleet… and Cryon II?”

Hutu’s expression was unwavering. “We have the Gallant fleet and Cryon II’s defenses. We can’t afford to send any more to Aetherial. Between a smaller, more agile Gallant warship, La’Rue, Kella, and Roan’s ships, you can stop the Battle Cruiser. It isn’t just Dorane and the others; it’s also the people of Aetherial. Go. Warn them. Use the new defense weapon Cassa and Bantu developed. If that Legion Cruiser makes it to Aetherial, we both know what will happen.”

Josh hesitated, his gut warring with responsibility and instinct.

Asta nodded. “Andronikos’s forces will be in for a surprise when they reach Cryon II. There’s a reason the freight lines are quiet. The Gallant forces aren’t going to be alone.”

Cassa placed a hand on Josh’s arm. “She’s right. We need to go.”

Josh exhaled sharply, his decision solidifying.

Hutu’s golden eyes met his. “We’ll hold the line here.”

Josh nodded. He hated leaving Hutu and the Gallant forces to face Andronikos’s fleet alone, but deep down, he knew the truth. If the Ancient Knights were eliminated, then even victory here would be meaningless.

They had to stop that ship.

Josh met Asta’s gaze. “Good luck.”

She bared her teeth, her tail flicking once. “We make our own luck, Ancient Knight.”

Hutu reached out, gripping Josh’s forearm in a warrior’s clasp. “Go. Make sure they live.”

Josh returned the grip firmly. Then, with a final nod, he turned toward Cassa.

The war was coming.

And it was about to explode on two fronts.

The desert stretched before them, the muted golds and deep ochres of the canyon walls standing in stark contrast to the bright, unforgiving sky. Mei kept her gaze moving, scanning the terrain, but she didn’t need to see Zoak to know he was already here. She could feel him.

The shift in Dorane was just as palpable. His shoulders had tensed, his grip on the skidder’s controls firm, almost mechanical. The closer they got, the quieter he became, his gaze fixed on the winding path leading into the ghost of his childhood home.

Mei’s chest tightened as she looked at him. This had been her suggestion—to use this place to trap Zoak—but now, seeing the subtle tension in Dorane’s posture, the memories heavy on his shoulders, she knew it had been insensitive.

She exhaled softly, her voice quieter than the wind that stirred the dust at their feet. “I’m sorry.”

Dorane didn’t answer at first, as if the words hadn’t quite reached him through the storm of his thoughts. Then, slowly, he looked at her.

Mei held his gaze, letting him see the regret in her eyes. Understanding flickered across his face. He nodded once before turning back toward the village.

“No,” he murmured. “You were right. It’s the perfect place.” A sharp exhale. “And it’ll play into Zoak’s mind frame.”

Relief mixed with the ache in Mei’s heart, but there was no time to dwell on it. They had a fight to finish. She pulled out the map Dorane had drawn, spreading it between them as they stood on the compacted dirt just outside the ruins of the first huts.

“There are three main ways he could’ve entered,” she said, pointing at the different entry points. “Through the main road, the west via the desert, or a wide arc from the north.”

Dorane traced a finger along the main road, shaking his head. “He wouldn’t have come this way. Too exposed.”

Mei nodded. “Then that leaves the desert.”

Dorane’s jaw tightened. “We practiced with the Staff for almost too long. If we were any later, Zoak would be suspicious.”

Mei agreed, scanning the canyon walls as they moved forward. The silence was unnatural. No birds. No shifting of desert creatures. It was the hush before the kill.

Zoak was here. Watching. Waiting.

Her eyes swept the ground, searching for fresh tracks. Her fingers tightened on the Staff Dorane had given her.

They passed the first huts, and the air grew heavy with the weight of devastation long past but never forgotten. Mei’s steps slowed as she saw the mounds of rocks—scattered between huts, along the road, markers of the dead.

Her throat burned. She clenched the Staff so tightly that the etched metal dug into her palm, grounding her in something tangible, something real. Rage and sorrow twined together inside her, knotting into something fierce, something unbreakable. This place had once been filled with life. Dorane’s life. And Zoak would dare to twist it into his battleground? No. No more. Never again.

Dorane’s voice was quiet, distant. “I was the one who buried them.”

She turned toward him sharply.

“When I came back,” he continued, his voice raw, “they were all gone. The Legion didn’t leave survivors.”

He was staring at the graves, his hands at his sides, fingers curling slightly, as if they could still feel the weight of stone in a child’s grip.

“I carried the stones to cover them,” he murmured, his gaze flickering to a low wall, half-collapsed from missing stones. “I didn’t want the wind to take them. Or the animals.”

Her heart cracked at the thought of Dorane as a child, carrying rock after rock, alone in a world that had erased everyone he loved. Mei clenched her jaw, channeling the pain into resolve.

Zoak wanted to drag Dorane into his grief. To break him, wound him, strip him down to a lost boy among the ruins.

A dry wind stirred the dust at her feet. It should have been empty, silent, just the weight of a long-forgotten tragedy pressing down on them. But something was off. The silence wasn’t natural—it was waiting. Watching. Her fingers flexed around the Staff. Her skin prickled, as if unseen eyes were brushing against her, their gaze crawling along her spine. Not yet. But soon.

She barely brushed her fingers against Dorane’s hand as they neared the far end of the village. A slight imprint in the dirt caught her attention.

Dorane saw it too.

His voice was a low murmur. “Tracks.”

They exchanged a look before stepping toward the nearest hut. Inside, the air was stale, heavy with the weight of time. Sand had crept through the broken doorway, covering the faded carpet, the fractured stone floors. Furniture lay in ruin, skeletal remnants of a life once lived here.

The walls were scarred with absence—the nails where pictures had once hung stood bare, tiny ghosts of what was.

Several small, alien birds burst from the alcoves, startled by their entrance.

Mei didn’t touch anything.

This was a sacred place.

She paused in the living room, her breath catching when she saw them. Twin stains of dark red, forever etched into the faded carpet, the crevices of stone.

Dorane’s voice was tight, distant. “Saffin and Jaytin.”

His younger siblings.

Mei pressed her lips together, her heart aching as Dorane moved deeper into the house. She followed, her fingers caressing the carvings on the Staff.

The first room belonged to his parents. The ghost of a blue dress shifted where it had been caught on a broken window.

The second room was smaller. Colorful drawings decorated the crumbling walls—a child’s vision of beauty, still clinging despite the ruin.

“Saffin’s artwork,” Dorane murmured before turning away from the doorway.

The last room held two beds. One mattress was missing. The other had been torn apart by rodents, the stuffing a shredded, desperate attempt at warmth.

Dorane’s voice was flat. “I used the blankets to cover them. I burned my mattress to stay warm.”

Something inside Mei shattered. She moved before she even thought about it, stepping into his arms, wrapping herself around him. She couldn’t erase his past, couldn’t go back and undo his suffering, but she could be here now.

He tensed for a moment. Then he let her in. His arms slid around her, strong, steady, holding her as she held him.

For a long moment, they stood in the wreckage of his childhood, surrounded by ghosts and echoes, and claimed something real.

Mei’s voice was barely a whisper. “I only lost one person who I truly loved. My mother. I was twelve.” She swallowed. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”

Dorane exhaled sharply, his lips against her hair. “Pain is pain.” He locked eyes with her. “We’re not alone now, you and I.”

The words swelled inside her, crashing over her with the intense emotion behind them. She didn’t let him speak again. She kissed him, fierce, desperate to show him what he meant to her.

Dorane returned it with the same fire, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, deeper. When they finally pulled apart, her breath mingled with his, her forehead pressed against his.

“Don’t leave me, Mei. Sergi warned me you might try to go off alone.”

Mei’s eyes widened before she huffed a rueful laugh. “Of course he did.”

Dorane brushed a kiss against her palm, his eyes filled with something softer than amusement. “Trust in our plan.”

Mei stared at him, feeling how fundamentally something had shifted in her core. She had not even considered leaving him. This wasn’t just her fight. It never was. And he was her partner.

Her fingers tightened in his. “I do. We’ll do this together.”

They shared an intimate smile and turned together, stepping toward the back exit, toward the garden beyond the shattered home.

Mei’s pulse slowed, her breath even.

Zoak was waiting.

They were ready.