KAEL
Colony 7 is a disgrace.
I step off my warship and the first thing that hits me is the smell. Recycled air pushed past its limits. Waste systems barely functioning. Desperation mixed with hopelessness.
This is what Earth's survivors got. A dying mining moon at the edge of nowhere. Prefab housing that looks ready to collapse. Twelve thousand humans crammed into a space meant for half that number.
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache.
"Warlord Var'thos." A human female approaches with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Colony 7 welcomes you. We're honored by your visit."
Director Yael Marr. My intelligence reports gave me her file. Ruthless. Ambitious. Clawed her way to power after Earth fell by being more brutal than her competition. She runs this colony like a personal kingdom.
I don't like her.
"Director Marr." I keep my voice neutral. Professional. This is diplomacy even though every instinct screams at me to demand why she lets her people live like this. "My thanks for your hospitality. I'm here on behalf of the Draev'kyn Council to discuss potential alliance and resource allocation."
The lie tastes bitter. I'm not here for alliance talks. I'm here for one reason only.
Find the princess. The last heir of Earth's royal bloodline. Offer her protection and resources to rebuild what my people failed to save.
Five years too late.
Commander Thaan steps up beside me. My oldest friend. My second in command. He scans the crowd with tactical precision while Marr launches into political pleasantries I barely hear.
Instead I look at the humans gathering to watch our arrival. They're thin. Too thin. Their clothes are patched and worn. Children cling to parents with the wide eyes of people who've seen too much violence. Survivors of a war that killed billions.
A war we arrived too late to stop.
The guilt is a familiar weight in my chest. Six hours. That's how late we were. Six hours of flying at maximum burn while Earth's distress calls screamed through our communication systems. Six hours of knowing we wouldn't make it in time.
We found burning cities and evacuation ships fleeing a dead world.
I've carried that failure for five years. Watched it eat at my warriors who wanted to help. Felt it poison every diplomatic interaction with human refugees who look at Draev'kyn forces and see betrayal.
They're not wrong.
"If you'll follow me, Warlord." Marr gestures toward a cluster of administrative buildings. "I've prepared a tour of our facilities."
"I want to see everything." The words come out harder than intended. "Not just what you've polished for inspection. I want to see where your people actually live. Work. Survive."
Marr's smile tightens. "Of course. Though I assure you our colony meets all minimum standards for refugee settlements."
Minimum standards. Like that's something to be proud of.
Thaan catches my eye with a look that says calm down. He's right. Getting angry at the director won't help find the princess. I need to stay focused on the mission.
My intelligence network spent two years tracking rumors of Earth's royal family. Most died in the initial attacks. The Emperor and Empress were confirmed killed defending evacuation ships. Their daughter, Princess Seraphina, was thirteen when Earth fell. Listed as missing, presumed dead.
Except three months ago one of my deep cover operatives intercepted encrypted communications from this colony. References to a secret. A bargaining chip. Insurance for future negotiations.
Then yesterday my code breakers finally cracked the encryption. One phrase appeared multiple times.
The last heir.
She's here. Somewhere on this forgotten moon. Hidden by people who see her as property instead of a person who lost everything.
The tour begins. Marr shows us residential blocks that look barely habitable. A medical facility with equipment older than some of my junior officers. A school where human children learn in overcrowded rooms with broken heating.
Every building makes my anger grow.
"Resources are limited," Marr says when she catches my expression. "We do our best with what we have."
"Your best isn't enough."
The words slip out before I can stop them. Marr's eyes flash with offense but she covers it quickly.
"Perhaps the alliance you mentioned could help with that," she says smoothly. "Draev'kyn technology and resources would significantly improve conditions."
Always negotiating. Always looking for advantage. I recognize the game because I play it myself in council chambers across three star systems.
But this isn't a game. These are people who deserve better than barely surviving.
We continue the inspection. Marr tries to steer us toward the areas she's prepared but I insist on random facility checks. If the princess is hidden here, she won't be in the polished sections meant for visitors.
"The maintenance areas aren't suitable for inspection," Marr protests when I head toward a service corridor.
"Then they need the most inspection." I don't wait for permission. Just push through the doorway with Thaan following.
The corridor is cramped and poorly lit. Pipes run along the ceiling dripping condensation. The air smells like chemicals and something burning. Human workers in stained uniforms look up startled as we pass.
None of them are her. I don't even know what I'm looking for exactly. My intelligence has no recent photos of the princess. Just old images from before the war showing a child with dark hair and royal bearing.
She'd be eighteen now. Probably looks nothing like those pictures.
So why do I keep searching every face like I'll somehow recognize her.
We enter what looks like a waste processing section. The smell hits hard enough to make my eyes water. Human workers are elbow-deep in broken filtration systems trying to repair equipment that should have been replaced years ago.
Marr starts explaining resource allocation problems. I stop listening. Something pulls at my instincts. A feeling I can't name.
Like the universe just shifted and I need to pay attention or I'll miss something critical.
I scan the room. Six workers. All focused on their tasks. Covered in grime and sweat. No one looks up at our entrance.
Except one.
A small figure in the back corner struggles with a stuck valve. Dark hair pulled back in a messy knot. Gray uniform too big for a thin frame. Hands that move with efficiency despite obvious exhaustion.
"You there," I call out.
The figure freezes. Then slowly turns around.
Time stops.
She's tiny. Barely comes up to my chest probably. Smudged with grease and dirt. Dark hair falling loose from its tie. But it's her eyes that hit me like a plasma blast to the chest.
Gray. Storm cloud gray. Old eyes in a young face. Eyes that have seen too much death.
Our gazes lock across the room.
Heat explodes in my left arm. Not pain exactly. More like fire and ice and lightning all at once. I gasp and look down to see silver light blazing through my armor. Intricate patterns spreading from my shoulder down to my fingertips. Growing brighter with each heartbeat.
The marks.
No. That's impossible.
The life bond appears maybe once in a thousand years. A sacred connection between destined mates chosen by forces older than Draev'kyn civilization. I've spent three hundred and forty-two years never finding my match. Started to believe I was too broken for the bond. Too violent. Too stained by war.
And now it's igniting for a human girl covered in waste system grime.
She slaps a hand to her collarbone with a shocked sound. Silver light blazes through her uniform. Same patterns as mine. Same impossible glow. Matching perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle that just discovered each other.
Around us workers gasp and stumble backward. Director Marr makes a choked noise. Thaan swears in our old language.
But I can't look away from her.
The bond slams into me like a physical force. I feel her terror. Her shock. Her desperate need to run. Our emotions tangle together through a connection that formed in seconds and will last forever.
She's mine.
The certainty rocks through me with the weight of destiny. This small fierce human with old eyes and defensive posture. This girl who's spent years hiding in waste processing facilities.
She's my destined mate.
And she's looking at me like I'm her worst nightmare.
I take a step forward. The bond pulls like gravity. Need and want and absolute conviction that I have to get closer to her.
"You."
The word comes out rough. Possessive. Claiming.
Her eyes go wide. Then she drops the tool she's holding and runs.
She bolts toward a side exit faster than I expect. Human fast. Survival fast.
Every instinct I possess screams at me to chase her. The bond demands it. My warrior nature demands it. She's mine and she's running and I need to catch her before she disappears.
I'm moving before conscious thought. Through the doorway she vanished into. Down a service tunnel too small for my size. I have to duck and turn sideways but I don't care.
The bond pulls me after her like a rope tied to my soul. I can feel her fear. Her confusion. Her determination to escape something she doesn't understand.
Behind me I hear Thaan shouting something. Marr's voice rises in panic. I ignore them both.
My mate is running and I'm going to find her.
The tunnel opens into another corridor. I catch a glimpse of her gray uniform disappearing around a corner. My longer stride eats up the distance. She's fast but I'm faster. Built for hunting. For chasing down enemies across battlefields.
Except she's not my enemy.
She's everything.
She turns into a dead end storage bay. I hear her curse when she realizes there's no other exit. When I enter the small space she's backed against the far wall breathing hard. The silver marks on her collarbone glow bright in the dim light.
She's beautiful. Terrified and furious and absolutely beautiful.
"Stay away from me," she gasps.
I raise my hands slowly. Non-threatening. Even though every part of me wants to cross this space and pull her into my arms. "The marks don't lie. You're my destined mate."
"I'm nothing to you."
The words physically hurt. "You're everything." I take one careful step closer. "What's your name."
For a second she just stares at me with those storm-gray eyes. Then the truth falls from her lips like she can't stop it.
"Sera."
Sera.
Short for Seraphina.
The princess I came to find is standing in front of me covered in grease with the bond marks burning bright on her skin and terror written across her face.
I found her.
And somehow in finding her I've lost every bit of control I've maintained for three centuries.
Because looking at this small fierce human, I know one absolute truth that rewrites my entire existence.
I would burn galaxies to keep her safe.