Blood of a Thousand Stars (Empress of a Thousand Skies #2)(16)

Then, abruptly, it fell silent, and Aly fell into the dark.





FIVE


RHIANNON


“TAEJIS,” Rhee murmured for the hundredth time as she exited her quarters. She should have seen it coming. It was classic Nero, she realized: capitalizing fast, within twenty-four hours of her return home, and using Rhee’s homecoming as a deflection, to distract the rest of the galaxy from what was happening on Nau Fruma.

Tai Reyanna stood at the center of the antechamber, her body tense as she pressed her finger to her cube. Rhee felt anxious on multiple levels—she was too scared to turn her cube on, but frustrated having to rely on everyone else for up-to-date information. Even Tai Reyanna using her cube put Rhee on edge, but her caretaker had refused to power down. The Tai’s stiff, formal white robes folded around her like thick swaths of snow. On the holo before them, the news was projected: The UniForce and the Wraetan-Fontisian Coalition, a vigilante army, were engaged in combat on the neutral moon of Nau Fruma. And it was all because of Nero.

He’d done the unthinkable: While she was supposedly dead, he’d rounded up Wraetans and Fontisians on Nau Fruma soil and interned them illegally using UniForce soldiers.

The WFC had run a rescue mission to free the detainees, claiming the camp was a violation of Nau Fruma’s neutrality. They dropped an em-bomb to break open the camp’s gates and render anything using electricity useless—even cubes. In retaliation, UniForce dropped a real bomb. Now the two armies were going head-to-head, and the ground combat on Nau Fruma had already claimed too many casualties on either side. The rest of the galaxy was in a panic. If neutrality couldn’t be respected, nowhere was safe.

And everything had been documented on the holos. Except that DroneVision had never covered the internment on Nau Fruma in the first place. Funny, how Nero had made sure that the subsequent “attack” by the WFC was getting plenty of airtime.

“Have you gotten through?” Rhee asked. She sat down on an ornate chair and then stood up immediately. Her throat was dry, and she couldn’t stay still.

Her Tai glanced sideways, giving a small, irritated shake of her head. It was worrisome that no one had briefed Rhee. Tai Reyanna couldn’t get through to the UniForce commander on Nau Fruma.

“Their comms must still be out as a result of the em-bomb,” Tai Reyanna offered unhelpfully. “And the most recent update might have slowed down communications.” But even as she said it, the Tai didn’t sound at all convinced. They didn’t need to speak the most likely truth: Nero had UniForce’s loyalty. The ones stationed here in the capital had barely lifted a finger to protect Rhee when the riots broke out upon her arrival, and Rhee wouldn’t dare reach out to any of them now.

In spite of the war in her territories, and the fact that so far Josselyn hadn’t come forward—Rhee didn’t know whether this was a good or a bad sign—Rhee’s thoughts kept returning to Julian. Was he still on Nau Fruma, and was he okay? Did he know she’d killed Veyron, and would he die thinking she had betrayed him? She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen.

Rhee was already running through the various scenarios in her head. The order would assist, surely. Maybe that’s what Nero wanted—to push her closer to Fontis, paint her as out of touch. A traitor. But she couldn’t think about that when people were dying. She’d release a broadcast to the Kalusian territories too, urging them to organize, to gather supplies. Any medical staff in proximity would need to make themselves available to travel to the moon. Perhaps she could go herself . . .

“If we can’t get through to UniForce, we need to send help.”

“Help, ahn ouck?” the Tai asked. She fell into a chair; her head scarf came loose, and graying black hair escaped from her temple.

Rhee used to resent the term. It meant child, and when she’d heard it she would revert back to the child she was at six. A lonely orphan, a brat, a girl unworthy of her name. But now it reminded Rhee of her family, and tied her closer to the Tai.

“We need help, Rhiannon,” she sighed. “We’re at the mercy of a madman.”

“I’m not at anyone’s mercy,” Rhee insisted as she began to pace the length of a tasseled rug. She’d refused all of Nero’s attempts to contact her; there’d been a deluge of comms. “And if I want to establish peace, establish trust, I’ll need to neutralize the threat on Nau Fruma.”

“How will you neutralize a neutral moon? More armed forces will only mean greater tensions. More violence. And air travel has been restricted—”

“Then I will unrestrict it.” Rhee’s voice crested to a shout. She felt the anger dissolving everything inside and out. “That place was our home. For years. The people on that moon, they were family—”

“Do not lecture me about family.” The Tai looked at her with a depth in her eyes that rooted Rhee to the floor. “And think twice before you choose to yell at me.”

Rhee bowed her head. “Tai Reyanna . . .” She trailed off, unsure how to structure an apology when she had so much to be sorry for. Her outburst wasn’t just embarrassing; it was unfit for an empress. “I dishonor myself. I take your mentorship for granted.”

Tai Reyanna took Rhee’s hands in her own. “I know you’re worried about the people on Nau Fruma. About Julian. But we’re not yet certain if he can be trusted . . .”