“No apologies,” he says. But he sounds worried. Maybe he’s remembering that Rana was my homeworld. That I lived at the heart of the Archon Empire before his parents tore it out. That there are years in my history that are still too painful to touch, all because of his bloodline’s conquest. “Are you okay? How are you holding up?” His voice is soft—too soft for the thoughts running wild in my head.
I shrug halfheartedly. It’s dead. It’s gone. I can’t carry it with me. “Still flying,” I tell him, trying to convince myself it’s true.
But the notion of an Archon insurgency continues to rattle me. The idea that there are people out there devoted to raising the empire from the ashes used to seem so impossible. And some of them were organized enough to make a serious attempt on the Umber heir’s life. Nothing’s come close to a victory for the Archon Empire since General Maxo Iral waged his fringe wars in the wake of the Umber conquest. Though he fell in the end, while he fought, there was hope that our defeat wasn’t final. That hope’s been buried for so long.
I haven’t had time to process it. The drums are thundering in my ears, in my heart, in the hollows of my chest.
“I know this is…complicated for you,” Gal says cautiously. “I know you suffered under my parents’ campaign.” I throw a sharp glance his way, and he holds up his hands, just like every other time he’s pried too closely at the gaping, Warning Shot–sized hole in my past. “You didn’t sign up for any of this, you’re not one of my sleepers—”
“Jana,” I say, no time between the formation of the thought and her name leaving my lips.
Gal flinches.
“I went to her room after I got your message. I saw…She put up a fight. I should have tried to find out what they did with her and the other sleepers. They could have helped—”
He gives his head the slightest shake, closing his eyes. “When she came by that morning before the drill, it was to warn me. The sleepers didn’t think it’d be safe to fly, but I thought it’d be too suspicious if I backed out at the last second. I should have listened to her—if I’d just listened to her, none of this would have happened. And now…” Gal scrubs the heel of his hand over one eye, inhaling sharply. “Their job was to protect me. It would have gone against every oath they swore to risk my safety for their sakes.”
I cling tight to the way those words tear out of his throat—reluctantly, like it’s ripping him in half to admit the necessity of leaving Jana behind. This is the Gal I’ve always known. The Gal who could never make his parents’ choices. The Gal who could change the galaxy for the better if he takes his mother’s throne.
For a little while, we stare out into the gray. Superluminal travel is disturbingly peaceful. It doesn’t feel like we’re snapping across systems faster than the speed of light. The ship is quiet but for the whine of the electronics and the distant hum of the drives. It’s like being on a raft, the lights turned out, the lake still, nothing but fog on all sides.
I’m starting to appreciate the Beamer more. Maybe it’s because it’s holding me hostage and I have no other options, but any ship that can put good distance between myself and a dreadnought deserves a little respect. I glance over at Gal, curled up in the copilot’s seat. He’s dressed in an oversized jacket, his feet bare, and everything about it makes him look far too young to be dealing with any of this.
“When did you leave Lucia?” I ask.
Gal sighs. “Originally they had planned to start shadowing me at ten, but then General Iral wouldn’t go down. It wasn’t safe for me to be out among the people, even in secret, while he was out there. When we fried him two years later, I was finally allowed to attend a pre-military school on Naberrie. Then they graduated me to the academy when I was fifteen.”
It matches the story