Zarya stalked down the corridor of the building they’d confiscated from the Terrans, her eyes taking in every detail. The walls were plastered with documents printed on some kind of parchment, extolling the latest developments and gatherings. She was most impressed by the ones showing completed construction projects. The Terrans had some truly wonderful architecture.

  She stopped in front of a door, with the words ‘Mayor’s Office’ painted on the glass. According to the captives, this had been a government building before the invasion.

  However, she wasn’t sure if she believed them. Her unit had personally captured this building, but when she confronted the leader of this settlement, he had dropped to their knees like a mewling savire cat and begged for mercy. What leader wouldn’t fight to the death to protect his people?

  Had the Terrans somehow tricked her and the real leader had fled to the hills? She would know soon enough, when the torture of the man who called himself mayor was completed.

  But not all Terrans were as cowardly as that soft man. She’d encountered a group earlier fleeing the settlement in a land vehicle. One of their number had even managed to kill a member of her retinue.

  The loss of a bodyguard still stung. In hindsight, she should have allowed her retinue to open fire on the vehicle. But she found it distasteful to kill children and the elderly. There was no honor in that.

  Zarya breathed in deeply, preparing herself for what waited on the far side of the door. She then raised her hand and rapped on the glass. It was never a pleasant experience to be in the presence of Alatu—especially after a notable failure.

  “Enter,” a deep voice rumbled from inside.

  She pushed on the door before remembering she needed to twist the metallic knob. The Terrans were shockingly advanced in some ways—even managing to inflict losses on the Daskian landing vessels—while in other ways they were strangely primitive. Why would a technologically advanced race still use manual doors?

  Turning the knob, she stepped into the room. Inside, Alatu sat at an imposing wooden desk. A craftsman of impressive skill had carved indigenous plants into the legs and sides of the wood.

  Her gaze rose to meet Alatu’s dark eyes. His gaze was harder than usual, a slight crease on his forehead beneath his horns, the only sign of his simmering fury. As usual, grisly trophies hung from the points of his horns, showing off his many victories. He was clad in thick black armor, with runes imprinted on the surface to deflect any attack.

  As he watched her from behind the desk, the wrinkle in his forehead deepened. “Is there any word from the war bands?”

  She held up her fingers in the gesture in an apologetic gesture. “No, my liege. The warbands have scoured the forest, but have found no trace of the Terrans spotted by the landing vessels.”

  Alatu leaned forward, his hands forming the symbol for annoyance. “I want their heads mounted on my wall before nightfall. Should their heads not grace my desk, then I shall take the heads of those who failed me.”

  “My liege,” she continued, trying to keep her growing worry from her voice. “Why do you care so much about these Terrans? We have more than enough slaves to construct a mighty fortress here.”

  Alatu rose to his feet, his massive frame looming over her. “There is no need to fear for your life,” he said, his voice like two boulders rubbing together. “I have made my intentions clear to your family to mate with you.”

  She fought down a shudder at Alatu’s words. The man had no honor, and his family had only risen to prominence through treachery and deceit. While they may be powerful, she would not breed with such a dishonorable Daskian.

  “I am humbled by your interest in me,” she lied. “However, I do wonder why you are so concerned with the Terrans. A war band captured those who fired their primitive weapons at me earlier.”

  “Not so primitive,” Alatu mused, running his claws along the surface of the desk. “This is the first invasion in over a millennium where the natives of a planet managed to fight off an incursion with no combat decks. Their level of technology is concerning.”

  “Surely they are no match for us,” she said fiercely. “I will defeat any who stand against me in honorable combat.”

  “Perhaps,” Alatu said. “Yet they possess war craft capable of soaring through the skies. And atomic weapons have obliterated several mother ships.”

  “They dare to use forbidden weapons?” she gasped, making the symbol of shock with her hands. “The Eternal Emperor will not stand for such blasphemy.”

  “The Terran faction has been warned of the consequences if they use them again,” he continued. “However, they are the first threat our faction has faced in many generations. My family spent the bulk of its treasure to send me here. I will not allow the Terrans to stand in the way of expanding our duchy. As you know, the resources here are critical to my family’s continued prosperity.”

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  Zarya frowned. “What does any of this have to do with the Terrans? They are weak and soft. Surely, the ones who escaped earlier shall be slain by beasts or the other factions competing for this area. I believe they are headed in the direction of the Slaviigolaris. Those blind worms will most likely slay them without mercy.”

  Alatu steepled his fingers, indicating concern. “Those disgusting earth crawlers are no more. I believe one of the Terrans eliminated their squire and obtained its rank.”

  “Impossible!” she exclaimed. “A native squire has never risen this early in an invasion before. It’s unheard of for such a thing to happen within the first few days.”

  “Regardless, the reports from the skirmish in the hills all but confirm the presence of a Terran squire. If they are not found and eliminated soon, the Holy System will grant them immeasurable power.”

  Zarya fought down her disappointment at learning of the squire being defeated by one of the Terrans. While exceedingly rare, someone without a combat deck like herself could be granted one by the Holy System after slaying a squire. While the odds of such a thing happening were astronomically low, apparently the system had smiled on a Terran.

  Which meant this was the most dangerous location on the planet. The Holy System showed immense favoritism to the native population of a planet during integration. Not only were they impossible to detect for the first 60 days, but if a Terran possessed a combat deck, their power would grow incredibly fast.

  She made the symbol of servitude and bowed her head. “What may I do to help, my liege?”

  Alatu strode over and touched the top of her horns. “I command you to find this Terran and slay him in any way possible. However, you shall not engage him in honorable combat. Take a squad of firecallers with you and burn him to ash. Once you have removed his skull, bring it to me to prove you are worthy to be my mate.”

  She had to fight down the urge to shudder at the mention of being Alatu’s mate again. To think she would lie with him after he’d commanded her to abandon her honor nearly made her sick.

  Zarya would find and kill this Terran, but not for Alatu. She would do it for the chance to earn her own combat deck. And once she had it, she could lift her family out of poverty and found her own house in the Daskian Empire.

  She lifted her head to gaze into Alatu’s eyes. “As you wish, my liege. I shall present the Terrans’ head to you before the next rise of the blood moon.”

  “Excellent.” Alatu walked back to the desk. As he settled down, the chair creaked alarmingly under his massive frame. “Do not disappoint me, Zarya. Should you fail, I will turn you into my pleasure slave. I imagine your family would be most disappointed if that happened.”

  Stiffening at his words, she spun around and marched out of the room. She slammed the door behind her, briefly losing control of her emotions. In the hallway beyond, she sucked in a deep breath. The threat of him enslaving her was beyond inappropriate.

  After a second to collect herself, she hurried down the hallway to the exit. She pushed open the double doors and walked outside into the humid air. The overly bright sun hung suspended in the sky directly above.

  This place was nothing like her home planet, Daskia. It was too bright, too hot, and far too humid. She found herself longing for the endless tundra back home. What she wouldn’t give to stand under the red sun again, gazing up into the dark skies.

  Zarya shook her head. This was no time to get homesick. She had come here to defeat the Terrans and to make a name for herself. Once she’d gained power and wealth, she could return and lift her family up once more.

  She set off toward a building at the edge of town. Her retinue had turned a merchant’s store into their barracks. While her family could only afford a retinue of five to guard her, Alatu had given her permission to recruit other soldiers.

  As she walked down the deserted street, she peered into the many broken windows of the merchants. The Terrans certainly had an interesting culture, and she was taken with all the items for sale in the shops. Once the Daskians seized control of this area from the other factions, these items would sell for a premium on the galactic market.

  A piece of litter fluttered down the street before catching against her leg. She glanced down to see a piece of paper with a drawing on its surface. It depicted a larger Terran holding hands with a smaller one. She suspected from the crude lines and colors that it was the work of a child.

  Another gust of wind ripped the paper free, and it continued its path down the street. She watched the drawing disappear, vaguely unsettled at all the children being held in the sports facility. Strangely, the ice rink, as the Terrans called it, was the only familiar thing here. They had many of the same structures back home on her planet.

  With a shake of her head, she continued on until she reached the barracks. At the door, a soldier stood at attention, gripping a firecaller in his hands. He held up his fingers in the sign for greeting.

  Zarya returned the gesture and walked through the door. Inside, dozens of beds had been laid out in the hall. The soldiers not on duty guarding or patrolling the town were spread out across the room. Some were gaming, while others drank the fermented milk of kosifar beasts.

  She spotted a familiar face on the far side of the room and walked over to Kratala. Her friend was nearly as tall as her, with feminine horns curved back over her head. The woman stood nearly a head shorter than her, and her loin cloth and tattoos marked her as the lower class.

  “Kratala,” Zarya said. “It is good to see you. Would you like to accompany me on a mission?”

  “I would be overjoyed to have a chance to earn my armor.”

  “You will have a chance if you come with me,” Zarya said. “Gather up twenty firecallers and meet me at the edge of town. We are seeking a Terran in the area claimed by the Slaviigolaris.”

  Kratala smiled, her white teeth in stark contrast to her purple skin. “I look forward to battling those earth crawlers.”

  “Unfortunately, you will not have battle with them today,” she said. “A Terran squire has arisen and defeated them.”

  “Then I will help you to defeat the Terran,” Kratala said fiercely. “I will meet you shortly with the bravest warriors I can find.”

  Zarya raised her hands and gave the gesture of gratitude. She then turned and headed toward the exit. Her friend Kratala was a dependable leader who wouldn’t do anything foolhardy, but who also had a strong sense of honour. She deserved to wear the armor more than most.

  Once she left the building, she set out toward her own quarters. She would gather her retinue and then hunt the Terran squire. If she was correct, all she had to do was lay in wait near the dungeon, and the Terran would walk right into her trap.