Nor took a deep breath and faced the analyst as the woman tried to explain.
“According to the system...it says here that you, Majesty, are technically not the General of Arcardius. I’m ashamed to admit that we had no reason to know this before now, but in any case, when you tried to access the nuclear arsenal, the fail-safe responded, revealing itself for the first time. So I’m afraid that, even with the correct codes, you will not be able to activate those weapons.”
“Cyprian Cortas is dead,” Nor snapped. Her hands were curled into fists now, so tight that her nails nearly broke through the skin. “He was executed when I arrived here, and I took his place. Therefore, I am the rightful General of Arcardius. I am queen of this entire galaxy.”
The analyst swallowed hard, taking a subtle step backward. “I’m afraid the fail-safe does not see reason. It only understands numbers and coding. And the coding, Majesty, has told the fail-safe that though you are my queen, and everyone else’s in this room, long may you reign...”
Polished words.
Words spoken out of fear, even through the compulsion.
Nor’s teeth ground together as the analyst finished her thought. “Therefore, you will not have access to the arsenal until you are the rightful General of Arcardius—until the system deems it so.”
The room was so silent, Nor swore the others could hear her heartbeat pounding from within her chest. She stared at the screen on her desk, wishing she could compel it to obey her. But her compulsion, and Valen’s, only worked on the living.
“The other planets,” Zahn suggested suddenly, his voice still level despite the unease spreading like a poison through the office. “We can use their weapons instead. We have the codes for them, as well.”
The analyst’s words were barely a whisper when she spoke, her little droid sliding closer to her side. “I thought so, too, but the fail-safe’s reach stretches across all of Mirabel, Majesty. I’m so sorry. We didn’t know... We didn’t anticipate...”
Ice had encased Nor’s body. She had killed all the leaders, killed them with one swift slice of her blade so that they would not stand in her way. And now, a month after taking over, it was as if their ghosts had suddenly come back to haunt her.
Or perhaps they’d been lurking on the fringes this entire time, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“There is a ceremony of sorts,” the woman said tentatively. “When a leader passes on, a new heir is chosen. Not just by words or oath, but by the system, as well.” She looked down at the screen in her hands again, its dim light reflecting in her orange eyes. “But in the event that the other leaders fall without an heir, and only one remains, that single remaining leader gains total control of the weapons network across the entire Unified Systems.”
“Then we must do that now,” Darai said, nodding his head as he came around to the front of the desk. “We will enter Nor into the system here as the sole leader of Mirabel, so that she can access the arsenals.”
The analyst’s knees began to shake. “That’s simply not possible, sir.” She looked to Nor. “Unfortunately, according to the system and the fail-safe... Another leader has already been chosen.”
All eyes fell upon her as Nor gripped the desk for support. It couldn’t be true.
She’d made sure everyone was dead.
Nor’s body felt strangely light, while her head felt too heavy on her shoulders. “Who?” she asked softly, menacingly. “Who is it? We will find them and kill them.”
“That’s the other problem,” the analyst said with a grimace. “The system’s firewalls, its back-door fail-safes...they’re all heavily protecting the identity of this chosen leader. And merely killing this person won’t give you access to the weapons. It would be too easy for leadership to fall into enemy hands if that was the case. The new leader has to pass on the power, to freely hand it over and enter their chosen heir into the system.”
“THEN BREAK THROUGH THE SYSTEM!” Nor screamed as fury roared within her blood. She hadn’t come all this way just to be stopped by some technological glitch.
She picked up a glass bauble from the desk and launched it across the room, where it exploded against the wall in a shower of gleaming shards that looked like falling stars.
At a quick nod from Zahn, the analyst ran from the office, her droid trailing in her wake. The room turned to chaos, Darai commanding orders, the other workers and droids scrambling to obey. But all Nor could hear was the blood roaring in her ears, a heavy thrum as it pulsed hotly through her body.
She was queen. The only leader left in Mirabel, all others be damned.
Nor stormed out of the office, Zahn and Darai hot on her heels, and she did not stop until she reached the front doors of the estate and stepped out into the cold night. She stared up at the stars, gazing out across the sky, as if she could see this so-called other leader hiding in the shadows.
For when she discovered who it was...
Not even the Godstars would save them from her wrath.
ANDI
Her hands were covered in blood.
An ancient obsidinite dagger, the color as dark as pitch, lay forgotten on the metal floor of the Marauder. The blade had broken in two during the fight. Unsurprising, for Androma had fought hard in the skirmish. The weapon itself was old and somewhat dull, but the wounds it had inflicted upon her fallen enemies were not.
It’s over, she told herself. You slayed them all. You won.
And yet, as Andi stood on trembling legs, surveying the cargo bay of the Marauder, the feeling in her bones was not one of victory.
Rather, it was one of defeat.
Loss was a crippling thing, a beast that did its very best to conquer even the strongest of souls. With each life she took, a voice in the back of Andi’s mind whispered the same question.
How can one truly be an enemy, if they’re being controlled?
Andi staggered forward, a pinch in her side alerting her to the presence of a wound. There was too much blood on her to discover the source, too much exhaustion for her to care.
They’d come for her, knowing she’d survived the attack on Arcardius weeks before. The fight had lasted mere minutes, and the bodies were now scattered all around the cargo bay, still fresh, still bleeding out. All of them wore the sleek, dark uniforms of Xen Ptera. The queen’s sigil, shining gold on their armored chests, glared at her from all around.
She’d won this time, but more would come.
More always came.
Andi growled a curse as she saw movement in the corner, behind the rubble of a smashed crate. A gloved hand, stretching out from the shadows. One of the soldiers, mask still in place, was struggling to hold on to life.
She thought she’d finished them all off.
Andi stumbled forward, and the room wobbled, going in and out of focus. She blinked, suddenly realizing that much of the blood must be from her own wound, and pressed onward, stepping over fallen soldiers until she reached the only other living soul on this ship.
“Please,” the voice begged, the exterior com of the soldier’s helmet crackling. Half of it was bashed in, likely from one of Andi’s hits. “Please.”