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Authors: Unknown
They didn’t hold an election to choose new elders, nor did the
position pass to an heir like the title of Vasili. Elders were called by the
ancestors, marked by silver hair, and granted the highest level of honor
and protection available.
As time passed, the Court remained unyielding, and unfortunately,
so did their laws. So, the Xenons continued to shield their planet and
close themselves off from outsiders.
Worse, none of his people knew what existed out in the universe
anymore, and none of them had thought to question what they were
hiding from or why. Many of the younglings actually believed their race
to be the only intelligent life in the vastness of space.
With his eyes still closed, Kai snorted. He himself had only ever been
off-planet once, sent on an observation mission across the galaxies as part
of his training to become ruler of the Isles. Even if he didn’t know better,
even if he hadn’t heard the stories about the wars, he couldn’t imagine
being arrogant enough to believe no other life existed beyond their tiny
pinprick in the universe.
Blinking his eyes open, he glanced at his untouched broth, then
toward the twenty-four unoccupied chairs that lined both sides of the
table. Silvery-blue light from the afternoon sun shone through the high,
open windows, the rays dancing over the surface of the polished wood.
A chilled breeze swept in from the ocean, bringing with it the scent of
brine and tickling the fringes of the black-and-silver tapestries that hung
on golden ropes from the rafters.
Kai didn’t normally take his meals in the dining hall. Just the echoes
of his footsteps across the black, tiled floors created a crushing sense of
loneliness, but the emptiness did help to clear the clutter from his mind.
Once, the grand room had been filled with the sounds of laughter, music,
and celebration. It was where his parents had celebrated after completing
their bonding ceremony, and delegates from around the world had come
with well wishes to join in the revelry.
Xenthian had enjoyed an unprecedented period of peace, and his
people were content, most of them having never known true conflict.
Without enduring hardship, Kai felt many of them—including himself—
couldn’t fully appreciate the little joys in life. Bonding ceremonies now
took place without flourish or extravagance. Honor rites welcoming the
warriors of their race into the ranks of the sentries took place in the
courtyard of the palace with only himself and the captain of the guard
present.
The Xenons had forgotten the old ways, the beliefs and rituals that
had been the building blocks of their culture. They’d become
complacent, satisfied with monotony and mediocrity. Before they’d
closed off their world to outsiders, their technology had been light-years
beyond that of any other race—with the possible exception of the Dragon
Warriors.
Kai often wondered if the rest of the universe had since passed them
by, rendering them as primitive as the humans he’d once observed on a
tiny planet called Earth. Of course, he’d never spoken to a human, or any
other race for that matter, but he’d read the archives and seen the videos.
Well, most of them. The Court of Elders still monitored activity beyond
the shield, but they only shared the most pertinent information—even
with the king.
Without warning, the doors of the great hall burst open, the heavy
wood banging against the walls hard enough to vibrate the ground
beneath his feet. Tirallarah Meadowlark, captain of the guard, rushed
into the room, her long, ebony hair flaring out behind her. A pink hue
swept over her high, angular cheeks and colored the tips of her pointed
ears. Perspiration beaded across her brow, and her breasts heaved
beneath her black and silver tunic.
“Vasili Blackthorn.” Tira greeted him by his official title, then paused,
shaking her head as she struggled to catch her breath.
Rising to his feet, Kai glided across the room, his gold and silver robes
trailing the floor behind him. “Tira, what’s happened? You
appear…distressed.”
No one on the entire planet, let alone in the high city of Sommervail,
ever expressed anything more alarming than mild curiosity. Something
had upset the captain, and while he’d never admit it aloud, Kai found
himself strangely excited.
“A ship, sir. The monitoring station detected a vessel just outside of
our gravitational field.”
Kai presented an impassive expression as he folded his hands behind
his back and nodded. Freighters, transporters, and exploration ships
ventured close to their borders with some regularity, but none had ever
posed a threat or caused them concern.
Tira stood tall, shoulders back, and her amethyst-colored eyes
narrowed at the corners when she continued. “The spacecraft entered
our atmosphere traveling at high velocity, and touched down on the
eastern shore. Video surveillance detects extensive damage to the hull
and cargo areas, and internal scans of the ship report life forms aboard.”
“Alive?”
The captain nodded as her fingers played over the hilt of the dagger
strapped to her hip. “Four, sir. Should I inform the elders?”
Kai shook his head, just a minute movement that barely disrupted the
air. “I would hazard to guess that they are already aware. Take a team to
the landing site, Captain, and bring any survivors to the citadel.”
Bringing his hands together in front of him, he used the tip of his
forefinger to trace one of the pale-blue, incandescent markings on the
back of his opposite hand. “Do we know from which planet the ship
hails?”
“Our intel suggests it’s an Earth vessel.”
Kai’s pulse sped, and his hands began to tremble. “Interesting.” He
dipped his head once. “Very interesting indeed.” His father and the
Court of Elders would be beside themselves with the information, but
Kai could hardly contain his growing interest. “Go, Tira. Send word to
the Isles, but try not to elicit panic.”
“Yes, Vasili.”
“Oh, and Tira?”
The captain paused with her shoulders angled toward the exit and
one sculpted brow arched upward near her hairline. “Sir?”
“Use caution, but don’t harm them unless necessary.”
Tira nodded curtly, then turned to march from the hall, leaving Kai
alone once again. The instant the heavy doors closed with a dull thud, he
touched the transponder on his left ear and waited as it projected a
holographic screen a foot or so from his nose.
“Lorcan?”
“How may I assist you, Vasili?” His personal attendant,
Lorcanannian Graystone, smiled back at him from the vidscreen, his
deep-set eyes wide and inquisitive. “It is my understanding we will be
receiving visitors. Should I prepare the holding rooms?”
“Four,” Kai agreed. “I want guards on each door, and two more at
the foot of the stairwell.” He swept from the dining room, past the
waiting guards, and down the corridor lined with elaborate paintings of
the members of the Court of Elders. “I’ll also need a linguistic translator.
I believe it would be beneficial for everyone in the citadel to have one.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll begin preparations at once.” Lorcan’s bright blue eyes
flickered to the left and then back. “You have an incoming
communication from Elder Blackthorn. Should I transfer?”
Kai bit back a frustrated sigh. “No. Tell my father I’ll speak with him
after I’ve had adequate opportunity to assess the situation.”
His attendant nodded, causing the vidscreen to wobble with the
movement. “Very good. Will that be all, sir?”
The coming hours had the potential to change everything, not only
for him, but for the entirety of his race. Kai only hoped his people would
be open to that change, even if they did require a modicum of persuasion.
“That will be all,” he confirmed, a smile tugging at the corners of his
lips, “for now.”
With the
Dreamweaver’s
power failing—even after Tariq’s quick thinking
and ingenuity—Sion’s landing left a lot to be desired. The sound of
creaking and crunching metal echoed throughout the ship, and by the
time they slid to a stop, Ivy had a good idea of what the inside of a paint
mixer felt like.
While Sion and Tariq pried open one of the cargo doors, she secured
her long hair into a ponytail at her crown and stripped out of her steel-
gray uniform jacket. The sweat-drenched, black T-shirt beneath clung to
her skin uncomfortably, and blood trickled from her right elbow where
she’d banged it on one of the consoles during entry.
As Commander, and technically the only Alliance representative
onboard, she drew her blaster and stepped forward to exit the ship first.
Of course, Sion and Tariq moved to block the door, both spouting some
sexist shit about protecting her and Cami.
“You might be stronger,” she admitted to the two Helios as she
elbowed past them, “but I’m a better shot. Besides,” she added, her tone
dripping with sarcasm, “if you get yourself killed, whatever would we
girls do?”
“You know,” Tariq drawled, following her out into the lavender-
colored sand that seemed to stretch on forever, “you’re a pain in the
fucking ass, Dalton.”
“I love you, too, snookums,” she responded distractedly as she
scanned their surroundings for any signs of danger. “Jabari?”
Instead of a verbal answer from Sion, an enormous cat with russet fur
and sharp, pointed fangs butted its head against her hip with a quiet
chuff.
Smirking, Ivy winked down at the beast. “Good kitty.” She tapped
the cracked display screen on her wrist unit. “Busted. Tariq?”
Tariq held his wrist up to face her and shook his head. “It’s not
broken, but I’m not getting a signal.”
“Everyone stay together and keep your eyes open,” she called.
Unless the ship with the unknown emblem had circled around to
approach them on the starboard flank, she doubted it had come from the
planet. Still, she’d rather be paranoid than dead. Pulling her wrist unit
off, she tossed it back toward the ship and scrubbed her hands over her
face. She didn’t have time to lose it. She needed to think.
Initially, she’d thought the silver light that illuminated the beach
shone from the planet’s moon, but it didn’t take her long to realize that
it was actually daytime. Instead of the bright yellow sun against the
backdrop of blue sky like on Earth, the sunlight itself appeared bluish,
while the sky above took on tones of purple and green. Endless miles of
ocean stretched out beyond the sand in front of her, the translucent green
waters sparkling like precious gems.
“What the hell is this place?” she asked no one in particular. “I’ve
never seen anything like it.”
Eyeing Ivy’s blaster, Cami furrowed her brow and twisted her lips
into a frustrated expression. “I need one of those.”
“No,” Ivy and Tariq answered in unison, then continued together,
“you’ll shoot your foot off.”
Camille Navarra, along with her mate, Tariq, and the head of the
Dreamweaver’s
security detail, Sion Jabari, were the closest thing Ivy had
to family. She’d do whatever necessary to protect them, even from
themselves.
While she had never met anyone more brilliant or more gifted in the
study of exolinguistics than Cami, Ivy wouldn’t consider her friend a
soldier. Tariq had worked with her to brush up on basic self-defense, but
at just over five feet tall and no more than a hundred and ten pounds
dripping wet, Ivy wouldn’t put her money down on Cami in a fight.
In addition, the woman had the unfortunate disability of barely being
able to walk and chew gum at the same time. Somehow, putting a lethal
weapon in her hand didn’t feel beneficial to anyone.
Thankfully, the raven-haired pixie didn’t push the issue. With a
good-natured shrug, she crouched to retrieve Sion’s clothes from the
sand and folded them neatly before draping them over her arm.
“So, what do we do now?” Cami jerked a thumb over her shoulder
toward the ship. “Communications are down. Most of the food in the
cargo areas was destroyed during the attack, and only one of the water
reservoirs survived. That might last us a couple of weeks, if we’re
careful.”
“We could eat Sion,” Ivy joked, because honestly, she had no idea
how to get them off the planet. “I hear cat tastes like chicken.”
Tariq roared with laughter, while Sion growled, a deep rumbling
sound that vibrated through his chest, and nipped at her backside. Cami
frowned and wrinkled her nose, clearly thinking they were all
ridiculous. She had a point. They were ridiculous, but Ivy figured they
could either make the best of the shitty hand they’d been dealt, or they