“Our intelligence has shown that the Zagrath are gaining strength in the Outer Rim of the galaxy,” Raas Maassen continued.
“Where no one is paying attention,” Kaalek said darkly.
“We have hordes that are paying attention,” Maassen lowered himself into his chair and leaned back. “And a new Raas who has taken up the mantle of stopping the Zagrath.”
Kratos released a breath, more relieved than he wanted to admit that there was another warlord leading the charge. “Raas Vassim?”
Maassen shook his head, the silver in his dark hair glinting. “Vassim still roams the farthest regions of the opposite side ofthe galaxy. This is no one any of you fought with. No one who was part of dismantling the Empire nearly a decade ago.”
Kratos was aware that an entirely new crop of warlords had been trained. He also knew Toraan had been part of the training process for new recruits. Even so, it was hard to imagine such young Vandar leading their own hordes.
“The Raas in question is formidable,” Toraan said. “And the fight against the Empire is personal for him.”
“His father was a raider killed by the Zagrath during the battle that crushed them,” Maassen said, his gaze landing on Kaalek. “On one of your horde ships.”
Kaalek’s back went rigid. “Then I hope he spills much Imperial blood.”
“He already has.” Toraan leaned his elbows on the table. “That is why he is called the Qeth’rex.”
Kratos blinked at his youngest brother. “The Scourge? He is that bloodthirsty?”
“Or he is that good at instilling fear,” Kaalek said, inclining his head at Kratos, who had been known for his outsized reputation.
“Raas Wrexxon and the other younger warlords have devised a new strategy to weaken the Empire’s control and gain allegiance from the colonies and outposts in the Outer Rim,” Raas Maassen said, folding his hands in front of himself as he pinned Kratos with a shrewd gaze. “It is one you might appreciate.”
“Me?” Kratos cocked his head to one side.
“They are insuring loyalty from the colonies and outposts by taking war brides.”
“War brides?” Kratos exchanged a look with his brothers. They might have ended up taking human brides, but they had not used it as a weapon to ensure loyalty.
Now he was starting to understand why Raas Wrexxon was called the Scourge.
Chapter 1
Jasmine
The upside of being awake early was that it gave you plenty of time to think. That was also the downside.
Thinking too much brought nothing but worry, or worse yet, hope. And hope was something I rarely afforded myself, and certainly not today. Not when the Vandar were coming.
I frowned as I kneaded the pliant ball of bread dough, trying not to think about anything but the task at hand. Push, fold, turn, push again. The rhythm was second nature to me, even when my mind was hazy from sleep and my body was weary from so many hours on my feet.
Outside the bakery's frost-webbed windows, the colony of Lexxona slept under a perpetual blanket of ice and snow, the kind of cold that bit through thick wool and burrowed in your bones.
I was grateful for the heat of the ovens at my back, the warmth radiating through the kitchen and making me almost forget that I was living on a frozen rock that never thawed.
That was the only good thing about Lexxona, really. It was too cold, too remote, and too barren for the Zagrath Empire to care much about. The Imperial soldiers who collected our taxes came less and less frequently, even though the visits still brought the same thinly veiled threats, and the same leering looks at any woman who made the mistake of crossing their path. But at least they didn't stay long. The cold drove them back to their warm ships and warmer posts as quickly as their greed allowed.
Rumor had it the Zagrath were stretched thin, weakened by the attempts to rebuild an Empire that had been torn apart by the Vandar a decade ago. From what I'd heard, although admittedly only from Imperial forces, the Vandar were worse than the Zagrath. More brutal. More savage. More unpredictable. More dangerous in every way.
Considering what the Zagrath had done to my family, I had a hard time believing anyone could be worse.
I pressed the heel of my hand harder into the dough, working out the memory of my parents being dragged away in the night for seditious activity. The Zagrath had called it justice, despite the lack of trial or evidence, which meant, in my book, anyone fighting the Zagrath was on the right side of the conflict. The enemy of my enemy might not be my friend, but I wouldn’t stand in their way.
And, today, I'd finally get to see the Vandar for myself.
The back of my neck prickled at the thought. After all the dark, furtive stories I’d heard about alien raiders who flew in hordes of ships that could vanish as quickly as they appeared, they would be walking among us. But not as invaders. As allies.
