"Captain," the slender alien, the one Rickon had called Xytol, raised his hand, his fingers long and elegant. "I have the Prime on comm."
The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Is that safe?" I blurted, leaning forward in my chair. "We don't know what Declan's capabilities are. He could be monitoring all off-planet transmissions." Right now, more than ever before, I worried big brother was watching, and Iknewbig brother watched.
Xytol's expression shifted, and he seemed insulted by my question, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. "My lady, I assure you, the comm with the Prime has over a hundred layers of encryption. Even if Hewes managed to intercept the message, he would hear only static."
Cullen snorted, but I could tell from the slight quirk of his eyebrow that he was impressed.
Xytol's long, elegant fingers danced across an iPad-like device, and suddenly a holographic image burst into existence in the air above it, shimmering with a pale green light. My breath caught as the projection stabilized, and a face materialized on screen. The Alliance Prime. Even rendered in flickering light, she was breathtaking, her features as luminous and perfect as they had been when I'd met her in person.
"Who's that?" Cullen asked beside me, his voice carrying an edge of wonder he probably didn't realize was there. I bit back a grin. The unflappable Admiral Cullen Blackwood was impressed, maybe even a little intimidated.
"The Alliance Prime," Xytol announced with obvious reverence. "She wanted to speak with you directly."
The Prime's luminous eyes swept across the room intently, her gaze lingering on each of us before finally settling on me. "President Bradford. I am relieved to see you alive and well."
I nodded, clasping my hands in front of me to keep them from trembling. "Thank you, Lady Prime. I wish I could say the circumstances were better."
"Xytol has briefed me on the situation," she said, her voice carrying that otherworldly quality that seemed to resonate through the holographic transmission. "But I would hear the full account from you directly, please."
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and launched into it. I told her how our carefully laid plan to capture Declan had gone to hell in spectacular fashion. How he'd somehow known the reason for my acceptance of his dinner invitation and replaced my Secret Service agents with his minions, all except for Rickon. How he'd tried to kill me. My voice wavered slightly at that part. I felt Rickon shift closer beside me, a silent show of support.
"Hewes used a cuddwisg device to take the president's place," Rickon added, his voice tight.
The Prime's expression darkened, her features hardening, making her suddenly seem dangerous despite her beauty. "A cuddwisg. Those are highly restricted technologies, even within Alliance space. How did a human acquire one?"
"Not just one," I reminded her, unable to keep the frustration from my voice. "To replace my security detail, he would need dozens. He's infiltrated the White House. For the past week, he's been sitting in the Oval Office, making decisions, meeting with my staff, doing God only knows what kind of damage. And no one realizes it's not me."
"Until now. But I fear it may be too late." Cullen interjected, his voice hard as steel. He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, giving a curt bow toward the hologram. "Admiral Cullen Blackwood, Lady Prime."
The Prime's gaze shifted to him, and I watched something like respect flicker across her features as she returned his greeting with a nod. "Admiral. Why do you feel it is too late?"
Cullen moved to stand beside me. Even in civilian clothes of jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, his military bearing was unmistakable. Shoulders squared, spine rigid, every movement deliberate and controlled. "Hewes has developed an AI," he began, his voice carrying the weight of someone delivering a death sentence. "We are hours away from his plan to upload it into our military and intelligence networks. Once it's integrated, he'll have control over everything—nuclear codes, surveillance systems, drone strikes, you name it."
"Jesus," I muttered under my breath. Hearing it laid out like that, so stark and clinical, made my stomach do a sickening flip. It sounded like something ripped from the pages of a bad sci-fi movie, except this wasn't fiction. It was real.
The Prime fell silent for a long moment, her expression becoming an unreadable mask. I watched her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction, but her alien features gave nothing away. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured and controlled. "If he succeeds, he will effectively control your entire defense infrastructure."
"That's the idea," Cullen said grimly, his jaw tightening. "And once he has that kind of power, there's no telling what he'll do with it. He could start a war, launch attacks on other nations—hold the entire planet hostage."
"Or worse," Rickon added quietly from beside me, his voice barely above a whisper but somehow cutting through the tension like a blade. "He could use it to prevent any assistancefrom the Alliance. Basically, he would hold the Earth at his mercy."
The Prime's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and I saw her fingers curl slightly, the first sign of emotion she'd shown since Cullen began speaking. "This cannot be allowed to happen. The implications extend far beyond Earth. If Hewes gains that level of control, it could destabilize the entire sector."
A chill ran down my spine, cold and sharp as ice water. I'd been so focused on the immediate threat to my country, to my people, that I hadn't fully considered the bigger picture. But of course, the Alliance would be concerned—they had to be. Under Hewes's control, if Earth became a hostile power with advanced weaponry and no accountability, it would have consequences I couldn't even begin to imagine.
I forced myself to meet the Prime's gaze, my heart hammering against my ribs as I spoke. "We need your help," I said, hating how desperate I sounded but knowing there was no other choice. "I can't take back my office, can't stop Hewes, without it."
The Prime's expression remained unreadable for a long moment before she nodded slowly. "Of course. What do you need?"
Rickon shifted beside me, and I felt the warmth of his presence like an anchor keeping me grounded. "Do you have any idea how Hewes could have learned of our plan to capture him?" He asked, his tone careful but probing.
The Prime's elegant features creased into a frown. She shook her head, the gesture almost human in its frustration. "We know he has spies embedded within the Alliance, but the only place his capture was discussed was when we met at Area 51. I then discussed his upcoming trial and imprisonment with Jala and Praxxan in their home on the Ardeese Valout as they are meant to assist."
"Who are they?" I asked, the unfamiliar names adding yet another layer of complexity to an already impossibly tangled situation.
"Friends," the guy with the thick blonde hair—Cristox—interjected smoothly, his voice carrying an easy confidence that somehow made me believe him. "Praxxan is my cousin and works closely with the Alliance intelligence network. Jala is his wife. They are trustworthy."
"Beyond trustworthy," the Prime echoed.
