Finally, progress. Kalie drew in a deep breath. “All in favor of launching an attack solely on Sector One?”
Gar’s hand shot into the air, and slowly, Akron’s followed. Kalie hid her frown. It hardly seemed fair for Dynar to get two votes, but they represented over a hundred planets in Sector Eight, so she held her tongue. A few other delegates raised their hands, mostly leaders from Sector Seven.
Less than half.
Her mouth went dry. “All in favor of continuing with the original plan, a joint attack?”
Nadar and Arrosa both raised their hands, along with most of the emissaries from planets in Sector Four. Arrosa shot Poltrun a sharp look, and the Lykorian senator lifted one of his arms. Kalie counted the hands, quivering in anticipation. The final count stole her breath away.
“That’s settled, then.” Nadar’s gills rippled as he smiled. “Princessa, allow me to offer my services and those of the Aquisian fleets. I was an admiral for many cycles. If you’ll have us, we’ll lead the attack on Dali.”
Kalie bowed her head as a warm rush of relief swept through her. It wouldn’t be easy, but with support, she had a chance. If Nadar was willing to lead from the front, to show his troops that he was a leader who’d fight alongside them, she would do the same. She would show the Federation that she wasn’t just a Dalian dove—she was an Etovian phoenix.
“Thank you, Senator Nadar. I’ll accompany your troops?—”
“You’ll dowhat?” Zane cried. Mira elbowed him in the ribs.
Kalie winced. Anger twisted his face, but she had no time to deal with his worries now. Setting her jaw, Kalie shifted her gaze to Gar.
Darkness lurked in the Dynarian Minister’s eyes, but he muttered, “If it’s the will of the people to divide our forces, so be it.”
Keepinghis hand braced on his pulser, Zane blazed down the hallway. It was easy enough to pull rank and send Kalie’s Aquisian guards away—everyone knew he was her most loyal Guardsman. He reached for the cracked sliding door, but Kalie’s voice stopped him. In the sparse gray room, she stood in the halo of a camera drone’s light.
“My allies told me I shouldn’t trust you, but I do.” Kalie’s face was turned away from him. Behind her back, she wrung her hands. “I do trust you, Julian. I always have.”
Zane clenched his jaw. Familiar fire roared in his chest, and he scanned the storage room for her ex’s brown skin and spiky black hair. Aside from Kalie, the bulky metal drone hovering at her eye level, and some dusty beige tarps draped over obscurely-shaped lumps, the room was empty.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but please, I need you to help me—” Kalie groaned, raked her hand through her hair, and smoothed her borrowed beige jacket. “Cut. Start it again.”
The orb of light shining in the drone’s eye winked out. Zane eased the sliding door open, wincing as it rattled, but she was already talking. The drone’s recording light was on.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped back. It would piss her off if he interrupted her while she was talking, and if he had any chance of convincing her to see reason, he had to be civil.
“I’m done running.” The boldness in Kalie’s voice caught Zane by surprise. She stood tall, with her hands clasped behind her back. Her face was raised towards the camera’s blinding glow. “I know I’ve failed you. All of you. I haven’t been the leader you deserve, but the lies Carik has told you about me aren’t true. I had nothing to do with my aunt’s death, I swear it on my soul. Carik killed her, and in a few hours, his fleet will be arriving to usurp control of our?—”
A timer chimed. Kalie slipped her holocomm from her pocket and switched it off.
Zane’s comm vibrated, too. One hour until launch.
He was running out of time.
“I’m coming home. Not for personal gain or revenge or delusions of power, but to stop Carik from taking the freedom of our people. I won’t ask you to fight for me. But if Iliana Lexington orders you to attack my fleets, I urge you to abstain from the battle. Whatever your opinion of me, please, do not fight for a future where Dali is not free.”
Kalie paused. The station’s perpetual hum filled the silence.
“When I come home,” she added hoarsely, “I’m coming home to stay.”
She flicked a hand, and the recording light switched off.
“We need to talk.”
She startled, and fear shone in her eyes as she whirled around. The panic faded when she saw him. “You’re mad about me going with the fleets, I know, but?—”
“You’re not going.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Says who?”
“You don’t belong on the front lines.”
