court-martialed for burning that hard within Tosa System’s radius, especially if he went superluminal. But apparently that doesn’t matter. Because unless the computers are lying, Governor Berr is aboard one of these dreadnoughts. He’s come for the Umber heir, and he’s brought his entire arsenal to keep Gal from slipping through his grip. And with the governor aboard, the chain of command is unquestionable, with no room for Gal emp-Umber’s golden voice to wrest control away.
There’s no way we’re clearing the system, let alone the planet’s orbit. No wonder no pursuit has locked onto our tail in the time since we fled the academy. They already knew we’d never make it past these ships.
“They’re hailing us,” Gal murmurs. His finger hovers over the button to accept the call. He looks to me as if I have any say in the matter, and it grounds me in my convictions—his decency makes him a different creature entirely from his parents. He has to take the throne.
I give Gal a slow nod. Better to let the negotiator have a crack at saving our skins. There’s nothing I can do with the planet caged by ten dreadnoughts, especially not flying a Beamer.
Gal presses down, and Berr sys-Tosa’s face fills the screen. The system governor is aging, his pale skin lined and veined. But beneath his papery complexion, there’s vigor. Hunger. His eyes aren’t focused on the camera, but rather something off to the side. Most likely our ship’s return signal. Most likely the face of the Umber heir, revealed to him after two years of hiding underneath his nose.
“Gal emp-Umber,” he says. It’s the first time I’ve heard Gal’s true title aloud, with his territory attached to his name instead of a family. I hate that it came from this man’s mouth. A whole host of opportunistic vultures swept in to claim positions of power when Archon fell, but none did it faster than Berr sys-Tosa. Tosa was formerly the younger brother of an Umber system governor, his bloodright not strong enough to overthrow his sister for the post. Instead he fell to commanding her war fleet, leading it in the campaign against Archon at the empress’s behest—but all the while he was scheming for something greater. Before the surrender, he’d already assembled an entire government underneath himself that he installed in the former Archon core the second the imperials handed it over. His forward thinking earned him the favor of the empress and served as a template that allowed Umber to rapidly take root in its newly acquired territories. He’s ruthless, relentless, shameless, and now the sound of Gal’s name on his tongue echoes in my head. I try not to let my disgust show.
Gal doesn’t. He flinches like he’s been struck, and his own greeting gets caught in his throat. “Berr…Governor Berr sys-Tosa. Well met,” he manages.
The governor laughs. “I’ve never known an imperial with a sense of humor.”
“And I’ve never known a system governor to survive what you’re attempting,” Gal shoots back, sitting straighter in his chair.
Berr sys-Tosa’s lips go thin. “You float, my prince. You have no leverage. No tether. No ships at your command, no power at your disposal, no troops to follow your orders.”
Not true. Gal has a single soldier on his side, and gods of all systems, I hope I’m enough.
“The only cards you hold are your blood and your name,” Tosa continues. “And those are not enough to stop a dreadnought.”
“You would risk the wrath of Iva emp-Umber? Of Yltrast emp-Umber? Of the full force of the Imperial Fleet, of the hundreds of dreadnoughts at their command?”
The way they’re talking is making my head hurt. Imperial-speak. Umber imperial–speak. You wouldn’t hear this kind of talk from any Archon leader, but the Umber Empire is rank with the notion that the value of a ruler boils down to how much power they can wield. It often ends with the little people diving out of the way as larger powers try to prove their point. It’s the kind of posturing that gets worlds destroyed. I try not to look sick, and give thanks for the way my darker complexion masks the blood draining from my face.
The governor gives