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I n orbit above Kryla Settlement: Aetherial

The stars gleamed against the void, distant and indifferent, but Andri saw them for what they truly were—witnesses to his ascension.

He stood at the viewport of the Charger , his hands clasped behind his back, his uniform pristine, gold epaulets gleaming in the dim tactical lighting. Aetherial stretched below him, a desolate, stubborn planet clinging to life. Its canyons twisted like veins through its surface, its twin suns beaming heat down mercilessly. And somewhere down there, in the dust and shadows, Roan, the Ancient Knights, and Zoak cowered like rats.

Andri exhaled slowly, adjusting his cuffs with practiced precision. His reflection stared back at him in the viewport, his own eyes gleaming with certainty. He was the Supreme Leader. The one destined to bring order to a fractured galaxy.

Not the Ancient Knights.

Not my brother.

Not Roan.

Me. Only me.

Behind him, Captain Ramos cleared his throat hesitantly. “Sir, your transport is ready.”

Andri didn’t turn. His gaze flickered to the reflection of his brother’s face, superimposed over his own.

Coleridge.

Mocking.

Always mocking.

Andri’s hands trembled as he straightened his collar, his lips curling in a sneer. “You always doubted me, didn’t you?” he murmured under his breath. “You couldn’t finish the job, so now I will.”

The reflection did not answer, but its eyes—Coleridge’s eyes—burned with silent derision.

Andri’s nostrils flared. He would not let that man haunt him a second longer. He would erase his legacy—wipe away the last remnants of his brother’s failures—and when this was done, Coleridge’s name would vanish from history.

Ramos shifted uneasily. “Sir?”

Andri blinked, realizing his words had not been entirely internal. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over Ramos like a blade. The Captain’s brow furrowed, his gaze flicking to the viewport, as if expecting to see the shadow Andronikos had been speaking to.

A flicker of amusement coiled in Andri’s chest. Ramos feared him.

Good.

Straightening, Andri strode past him without another word. The man scrambled to follow.

A short time later, the troop transport shuddered as it cut through the planet’s upper atmosphere, turbulence rattling against the reinforced hull.

Andri barely noticed. He stood near the front, gripping the railing, watching as the surface of Aetherial came into sharper focus. The settlement—a cluster of simple dwellings and landing bays—was an insult to his grandeur. Soon, it would be reduced to ashes and whispers.

Ramos’s voice crackled through the internal comm. “Sir, we have confirmation that General Roan Landais’s starfighter and the ship belonging to the Turbinta assassin Kella Ta’Qui are in the docking bays. Kryla’s arrival records also show a freighter belonging to La’Rue Gant, but visuals from our troops report the landing pads are empty.”

“What of Zoak? Have your men found him yet?”

“No, sir, but the area has been secured. Not even that Turbinta could get through,” Ramos replied.

Andri’s eyes narrowed. He wouldn’t take any chances. He looked at the five men he had brought with him.

“You two will find and eliminate the Turbinta assassin named Zoak once we land. Don’t return until you have proof he is dead,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir,” the two men replied.

He returned his focus to the ground. He expected resistance, expected Roan and his ilk to make a stand. He had Roan and the Turbinta’s ships. They could not escape. He doubted that they had abandoned the ships to travel in the old freighter.

Where are they? Hiding? Running? No. They wouldn’t run. Not yet.

His hand brushed over his pistol, itching for the moment when he would face them—when he would take Roan’s life with his own hands, erase the last of Coleridge’s failures.

He exhaled slowly. “They are here,” he murmured. “They think they can outmaneuver me.”

His reflection flickered again in the glass of the troop bay’s viewport—Coleridge’s face, smirking, condescending.

No.

After today, Coleridge would be gone forever.

“Did you request something, sir?” the soldier standing next to him asked.

Andri snapped his head around, his expression darkening. “Deploy all ground troops. Secure the settlement. Round up the civilians. I want them all in the main square.”

The soldier hesitated, looking at his commanding officer who was sitting behind him.

Andri’s lips curled into a slow, deadly smile. “Do not make me repeat myself, Captain.”

The soldier swallowed and nodded sharply. “I-I’m a private, sir. Yes, sir.”

Andri swayed, tightening his grip on the handrail as the troop transport lurched. The pilot set down the transport in a wide section of the main street, its landing struts kicking up a storm of dust. Andri waited impatiently next to the hatch as it hissed open, tugging on his sleeves and the hem of his uniform to make sure they were perfect before he strode down the platform. The heat immediately pressed against his uniform, twin suns baking the world in merciless light. Sweat rolled down his spine and dampened the area under his armpits, but he ignored it.

A dozen of his finest guards followed him down the ramp. Another transport had arrived earlier. The soldiers had already swept the settlement, herding the settlers toward the square.

The streets were lined with scorched structures, their stone walls worn by time and sand. Tiny dust devils swirled across the compacted dirt roads. The air carried the acrid scent of fear—of sweat, of dust, of inevitability.

As Andri walked forward, the crowd parted before him like a wave splitting around an unmovable force. One side—his men, standing rigid, at attention. The other—the weak, the doomed, eyes filled with unspoken terror.

Andri smiled.

This place would be cleansed. The prophecy that started here would end here.

He let his fingers brush the gold insignia on his chest, a symbol of his divinity. The Gods had chosen him , not the Ancient Knights.

The Ancient Knights of the Gallant were a lie—a fabrication meant to keep order among the weak-minded. He had always known it, even as a boy, before Coleridge tried to steal everything from him.

Nia should have been his. She should have carried his son, not Coleridge’s. She should have given him a Roan, but a Roan who was not weak like his brother.

The thought of Roan sent a wave of fury through him. He would have given him everything! Now, he would need to find another to raise as his heir. To give his throne to. To build his destiny.

He had thought Ri Manta would be his chosen one, but the man was too old and Andri had felt a whisper of warning, a hidden deceit lurking in the man’s eyes. That was why Andri had escaped to the Charger. Let Ri and the others bring down Cryon II. Andri was destined to bring down those who thought to take his place—his nephew and those who believed they were the destined Gods returned to save the galaxy.

Rage thrummed beneath his skin, hot and intoxicating. He fed on it, let it sharpen him, shape him into the Supreme Leader he was always meant to be. He lifted his hand and motioned to a group of guards to push the people in front of them forward, lined up in front of him in rows so he could see each of their faces.

His eyes flicked over the prisoners—men, women, a few older boys. They stumbled forward on shaking legs beneath the searing sun. Some stood frozen, others trembled visibly.

Weak. Unworthy.

He had no use for the weak.

“Roan Landais. The Ancient Knights,” he commanded, his voice smooth, unwavering. “Where are they?”

A murmur of panic rippled through the crowd. He walked slowly in front of the group, his eyes searching their faces as they bowed their heads, afraid to return his gaze. He paused in front of a woman, reached out a finger, and tilted her head. Her lips quivered and her breath became tiny pants. He waited, knowing what would happen—defiance.

A desert farmer standing next to her, old, worn, but proud, dared to lift his chin. “We don’t know.”

Andri sighed. They always resisted at first. He nodded to the nearest officer.

“Kill him.”

A single shot rang out.

The man’s body crumpled, blood pooling dark and viscous against the scorched dirt.

Screams erupted like a chorus of broken instruments, chaos rippling through the settlement.

Andri smiled as fear took hold. He continued walking along the line of trembling prisoners. His polished boots stirring the red dust, marking his path with quiet inevitability. His gaze locked onto a lanky boy, no longer a child but not an adult.

“Hold him.”

His guards seized the boy, who jumped and swung his eyes around wildly at the people behind him. The boy did not understand what was happening—not yet.

Andri calmly pulled a long, slender blade from the sheath attached to his belt. He flicked the end, and the blade hummed with a brilliant, intense blue. He looked over the boy’s head, his gaze flicking along the rows of villagers. Some of the women wept silently. Men clenched their fists, torn between fear and desperation.

The breaking point was coming.

Andri lifted his hand toward the boy’s throat… and let the silence stretch?—

“Wait!”

There it is.

The first crack.

The moment they always fold.

Andri barely contained his satisfaction as he turned, letting the moment hang, savoring the desperation in the man’s desperate eyes. The eyes of a father who loved his son. A father who would betray anyone—everyone—to protect his child.

“They’re were in the landing bay,” the man choked out. “They didn’t leave. Their ships are still here. All except one. They-they went to-to the ghost village. The one-the one to the west, where Dorane LeGaugh came from.”

Andri smiled.

Victory was within his grasp.

Mei paused at the top of the cliff, turning to look down at the ruins of Dorane’s childhood home. The canyon walls cast jagged shadows over the remains of stone dwellings long since ravaged by time and war. Mei’s gaze traced the skeletal outlines of what had once been a thriving village, now buried beneath layers of dust and memory. The village stood in stark defiance of the horrors it had endured, a ghost of what had been, yet still standing.

Sergi, Dorane, and Ash had moved Zoak’s body, depositing it outside the entrance to the village. Dorane hadn’t wanted the assassin’s body left in the village, much less near his family. He had said the body would be gone within a few days once the predators in the area scented the decaying corpse.

She could feel Dorane’s tension beside her as they approached La’Rue’s freighter. Under the invisibility paint, Mei knew the ship was an imposing, sleek vessel. Currently, it was a predator cloaked in shadow, barely perceptible even as they neared it.

The moment Mei stepped inside the freighter’s dimly lit interior, she felt a familiar presence—a presence that sent warmth surging through her chest.

“Josh.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

She moved, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. Josh barely had time to open his arms before she hit him full force, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly to her. He laughed as he caught her, spinning her in a brief circle before setting her back down.

“Damn, Mei,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”

She pulled back, studying his face—more battle-worn, but still Josh. He was more than the commander of the Gliese, he was her friend. Josh’s eyes gleamed with relief.

“I promise you, seeing you and the others—I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” she said.

“You were safe?”

Mei nodded. “As much as I could be in an alien world. I was lucky. I found a good friend who helped me.”

Josh breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

Her gaze shifted as she noticed the woman standing behind her. The woman was poised, confident, and from the expression in her eyes as she gazed back at Josh, very much in love with the commanding officer of the Gliese.

“Hi,” Mei greeted with a smile.

Cassa inclined her head, her lips quirking in amusement. “The last of the Ancient Knights have been found. I’m Cassa de Rola. Josh has told me much about you.”

Mei stepped away from Josh. “I’m Mei. It is a pleasure to meet you. What kind of stuff?”

Josh chuckled. “Legendary, terrifying—take your pick.”

Cassa grinned. “He said you were brilliant and always outsmarting Sergi.”

“All true,” Mei replied with a wave her hand when Sergi snorted and gave Josh an offended glare.

“Oh, that is a challenge, pandochka . You should know better than that,” Sergi teased.

Mei stuck her tongue out at Sergi and turned to Dorane when he stiffened, lifting his hand to his ear. She watched as he glanced at the group.

“We’ll be ready. Secure the settlement,” Dorane ordered into his commlink before looking up at the rest of them. “We have two Legion troop transports incoming. Estimated time of arrival: thirty minutes. Andronikos is with them,” he stated.

The room fell into immediate focus. Josh’s easy demeanor vanished, replaced by the sharp precision of a warrior. Dorane stepped forward, his voice calm but edged with steel as he lifted a small disk. A holographic map appeared with two red moving dots.

“Sweet. How are you doing this? Is it real time?” Ash muttered, leaning in to peer at the map.

“Yes, it’s real-time. A couple of my crew placed trackers on the transports when they arrived,” Dorane explained.

“Finally, we’ll get to kill the bastard,” Sergi muttered.

Roan studied the map before he looked at Dorane. “He knows we are here?”

Dorane nodded. “Yes. He killed a farmer and was about to kill a boy.”

“It is his fate to die here,” Cassa murmured with certainty, looking at Dorane.

“Fate?” Kella asked with a frown.

Cassa nodded. “The legend of the Ancient Knights of the Gallant do not say where they came from, but some of the first recorded documentation of them came from Aetherial. Not far from here, actually.”

“A circle must close for it to be a circle,” Mei said, looking at Dorane. “The Legion’s presence here started this chain of events for you. It is here that it will end.”

Dorane swallowed, a peaceful calm settling in his eyes, and he nodded. “Yes, it is time for the circle to close.”

“More like a hangman’s noose if you ask me,” Ash retorted.

“We don’t have much time. I figure a transport can carry approximately twenty-five men and two flight crew,” Josh said.

“I can take at least one transport,” La’Rue said. “Does your shuttle have any weapons?”

Cassa nodded. “A small laser cannon with about a dozen shots.”

“The transports are faster and more agile. They are made for hostile territory,” Kella said with a shake of her head.

Roan looked at the moving dots. “If they can’t see you, you would have the element of surprise. Hell, even if you just knock one out, that’s twenty-five fewer bodies firing at us.”

Josh nodded. “The best move would be to take one out in the air and the other as it lands. The shuttle can’t maneuver well enough and the laser cannon is limited in range.”

“Cassa, you take the one landing. I’ll take the one in the air. This way I can help cover you if you need it,” La’Rue said.

“That leaves the rest of us to clean up any who make it to the ground,” Roan said.

“I hope it is more than one,” Sergi muttered.

“And you think I am blood-thirsty?” Kella asked.

“That still leaves the Legion Battle Cruiser in space. They can always send more troops,” Dorane said.

Cassa looked at Josh. “Our Battle Cruiser should already be aware of the Legion ship. It probably won’t engage until it knows we are safe. It’s cloaked and in stationary orbit. It can take out the Battle Cruiser. That will cut Andri off completely.”

“Good. Now, let’s talk about those ground troops who might survive the initial attack. What do you think, Josh?” Ash asked.

Josh glanced at Dorane. “Strategic points?”

Dorane tapped the holomap. “The canyon has three natural chokepoints. If we use the village ruins as cover, we can pick them off as they push through.”

Dorane pointed at a collapsed stone building and a small cave across from it in the cliff. “Sergi, Ash—up there. It’s the best sniper position. You’ll have clean shots at the main approach on each side.”

Sergi cracked his knuckles. “You hear that, Ash? He trusts us with the high ground.”

Ash grinned. “That’s because he knows we’re the best shots here.”

Kella arched a brow. “You’re adorable when you’re delusional.”

Ash brushed a soft kiss against Kella’s lips. “Don’t be jealous just because you have to fight on the ground.”

Kella gave a slow, predatory smile. “I always did love getting my hands dirty.”

Ash’s eyes darkened and a wicked smile curved his lips. “Oh, I know. It makes me?—”

Sergi loudly cleared his throat and waggled his eyebrows at La’Rue, who shot him a glare that promised death if he said anything. Sergi opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again before he cursed softly in Russian and gave La’Rue an apologetic grin.

“You don’t want me to brag that I know you love it when I’m locked and loaded? But, dorogoy …” Sergi pouted with dancing eyes.

“You’re a dead man, Sergi,” La’Rue muttered, her cheeks heating.

“Are they always like this?” Cassa asked.

Julia sighed dramatically. “Oh, this is mild. Sometimes it’s worse.”

Josh pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine—do your thing, everyone. Just don’t get killed.”

Mei rolled her eyes. “Have you seen the Legion fight? I could take on the lot with my eyes blindfolded.”

“She could,” Dorane and Julia said at the same time.

Mei gave Josh an apologetic smile when he looked at her with a confused frowned. “There may have been a little piece of information missing from my resume,” she confessed.

“A little piece?” Sergi snorted.

“You’ll have to enlighten me when this is all over,” Josh said dryly before he nodded. “Let’s get into position. I don’t want any mistakes. I want that bastard’s head on a stake.”

Mei slipped her hand into Dorane’s as they turned and exited the freighter. He squeezed her hand before moving down the slope. He knew exactly where he was going to take up his defensive position.

“Dorane,” Mei said as he started to turn toward his childhood home.

He paused. She walked over to him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he wasn’t ready to face his uncle—his past.

He brushed a strand of her hair back and gently caressed her cheek.

“I’ve got this. I’m ready,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her.

“I love you,” she said, before she pressed a hard kiss to his lips. “Don’t get hurt. I want you to make love to me tonight when this is all over.”

“TMI, Mei! TMI!” Ash called out.

Mei had a goofy grin on her lips as she headed for the spot she had picked out.