The altered flag was a universal screw you to the entire Olen System, displayed on dashboards of starships, hung in windows, tattooed on the backs of old, wrinkled soldiers who had long since retired.
The design on the flag had always been more or less the same, but when the Unified Systems won the war, what had once been five lines became four, signaling Olen’s split from the Unified Systems.
Andi was very young during the last year of the war, the worst of the fear having passed her by in her youth, and the sparkling, wealthy haze that Arcardius gave off. She didn’t live in constant fear the way that many of the other planets had during the last days of the war.
But she’d never forget the day the official removal of the Olen System was broadcasted across the galactic feeds, never forget the sound of her parents cheering instead of mourning when Olen was cast out. She’d never known life without Olen being a dark mark on the edges of Mirabel, an entire system that had exploded into acts of terror when the Unified Systems couldn’t help them save their dying planet fast enough.
Survival of the fittest had been a saying passed on since the time of the Ancients, and there was so much truth behind those words. Olen wasn’t fit, so they didn’t survive. Andi believed Olen’s act of war was a last, desperate attempt to get what they wanted. Sadly, it didn’t turn out well for them. Even before The Cataclysm, Xen Ptera had been a weak planet, long bereft of resources.
Now it was shattered, hanging on to life support as it faded away.
“Let’s go,” Valen said.
He turned away, casting a final scowl over his shoulder at the flags waving in the wind.
As they walked on, Andi let her mind sink into a calm state of observance. There was no goal here, no mission to accomplish, no reward on the line. For once, she could simply be.
She stepped over two kids playing a board game in the dirt. One of them had scales like Lira, which lit up brightly in a summertime yellow. Her friend, a muscular girl who looked a bit like Breck, giggled as they threw the dice at each other instead of playing the game. Such pure innocence made her smile, until she heard their voices a little more clearly.
“You’re the Xen Pterran. I’m the Arcardian fleetmaster.”
“I don’t want to be the Xen Pterran! That means I’ll lose!”
A woman appeared from the tent behind the kids, telling them both not to speak of such an awful place on such a celebratory day.
As the crowd swept forward, she allowed it to swallow them up, carrying the bad memories away.
*
Before joining the dancers, Andi bought each of them a mug of Jurum. It was a famous drink on Adhira that was said to make its drinker forget their troubles. It sounded too good to be true, but Andi had had plenty of experience with Jurum.
“You sure about this?” Valen asked her, sniffing the glittering, bubbling liquid in his mug.
Andi nodded. “Yes. But don’t drink as much as Lira does. She’s a bit of a pro when it comes to Jurum, actually.”
She took a gulp. When the drink touched her tongue, the sickly sweet taste turned smooth, like liquid heaven.
The instant effects were blissful, and Andi welcomed them with open arms. Her vision was enhanced, everything more vibrant and alive than it had been seconds before, making the whole festival pop with color, as if she were looking through a kaleidoscope.
The world became beautiful around her, all darkness swept away.
Valen took another sip from his mug. “It’s so...”
“Lovely,” Andi whispered. Her voice echoed and rippled like a droplet falling into water, and she laughed as she downed the rest of her mug.
She thought she could feel the ground breathe beneath her feet, hear the distant towering trees laugh with happiness, feel the spiral rock mounds sigh from high above the desert sand. The world was alive.
“Come on,” Valen said. He faded into the crowd of dancers twirling in time, and as they moved, Andi had to question if her feet were even touching the ground anymore.
She felt weightless.
Like a starship made of glass.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
* * *
DEX
DEX SAT ON the edges of the crowd, watching the dancers and enjoying the feel of two mugs of Jurum thrumming through his bloodstream.
This was the type of place he lived for. Dancing women, so beautiful and full of life that he should have been desperate to join the crowd. He’d been asked several times to dance, once even by a woman who’d even offered to buy him a mug of Jurum as she approached him on the edge of the crowd.
She could have been the woman of his dreams. But tonight...Dex didn’t care.
In truth, all he cared about was catching a glimpse of Andi in the crowd.
Andi, with her “stab you in the balls and laugh at you as you scream” eyes.
Andi, who flung insults as sharp as her electric swords.
Andi, who’d stolen his heart and later his ship.
Andi, whom he’d betrayed.
Andi, Andi, Andi. Her name echoed through his mind like a flock of Adhiran siren birds.
“Crap,” Dex muttered.
Something was truly wrong with him. Maybe he’d fallen ill. Maybe Alfie had given him too strong of a painkiller when the AI had patched him up on the ship a few days before.
Or maybe, an obnoxious voice in the back of Dex’s mind whispered, being back here, on the planet where you once had the luxury of being Androma’s, is screwing with your brain.
Dex shook his head. He’d been on land for far too long. Once he was back on board his ship, locked in close quarters with Androma Racella, he’d come to his senses again and realize she had absolutely no interest in a future with him.
He had hoped that telling her the truth about what happened years ago would help mend the break between them. That they could start over—maybe they’d never again share the intimacy they once had, but perhaps they could have become friends.
But since their conversation, Andi had done her best to avoid him. He hadn’t pushed her. He knew she needed time to process the truth, and perhaps she’d never forgive him.
Perhaps true forgiveness—a resurrection of their past—would never come.
Dex shook his head and turned his attention to his third mug of Jurum for the first time since he’d bought it. He’d been too busy with his stupid, traitorous thoughts to pay attention to what was really important to him.
Getting star-blindingly drunk.
Right as he lifted it to his lips, the liquid having long since stopped bubbling, his gaze drifted to the dance floor that was slowly expanding into a circle. Dancers swayed left and right, clapping and stomping their feet to the steadily growing beat.
As they twirled and parted into halves, Dex caught a flash of white and purple hair. A woman with her arms raised to the sky, her hips swaying like they were rocking in time with a hidden current.
His heart eased a bit at knowing where Andi was.
As if that mattered. He didn’t care. He knew he didn’t care, and yet his mind—which he was absolutely certain was malfunctioning now—was tricking him into thinking that he did.
“Idiot,” Dex murmured into his mug before downing the contents in a single chug. He knew he’d regret it tomorrow when he woke up.