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  It was a lot to live up to, but somehow she managed.

  Doing well in school was in her best interests because she had things she wanted to accomplish. She had plans for being an entrepreneur, running her own business and using the skills she had to make people happy. When she voiced that to other people, they told her she was too good to be true, or that she was an overachiever, but Abby never saw it like that. In her mind, there was nothing wrong with striving to do her best.

  Regardless of what anyone else thought, the plans she had for the future were for herself. Her parents hadn't pressured her into it, and neither had her teachers. Everything she wanted to do was on her list because she wanted to do it. No more, no less.

  It made her headstrong and confident, knowing what she wanted, and when counsellors warned her against taking too many classes or signing up for too many extracurriculars, she just smiled and said she appreciated their concern before continuing on her way. Who knew her limits better than she did, after all? Who knew what she could handle better than her?

  High school graduation had proved that to them all. She'd graduated second in her class, giving the salutatorian speech with her shoulders weighed down by the sheer number of cords she had from the various clubs and organizations she was a part of. Future Business Leaders of America. The National Honor Society. The glee club. The list went on and on.

  Now that she was done with college, it wasn't so much different. She gave her student speech in front of thousands of students, parents, faculty, and staff, smiling the whole time and wishing she didn't have to wear the heavy black gown in the heat. Regardless, it was a proud moment, and when she took the stage again to receive the holder for her diploma (because of course the real thing would be sent to her in the mail later), she beamed and shook hands with everyone on stage before getting a big hug from Professor Straton, her faculty adviser.

  In the crowd somewhere was her family: her mother and step-father, and her little sister, and she knew they were pleased for her. It was an amazing feeling.

  After this, there would be more hugs, probably some tears, one million pictures to pose for, and then even more hugs. Her family had promised to take her out to her favorite restaurant for lunch, and she was sure her roommate and her family were going to join them. Then it was time for the rest of her life to begin.

  Okay. So the rest of her life was going to begin, but first there was a post-graduation party that Abby had to show her face at.

  "You have to go!" Kayla had said over the phone while Abby was still drying off from her shower. "Everybody's gonna be there, and if you're not there, it won't be the same."

  Abby sighed, flicking the fingers of her free hand through her messy, damp hair. "It's not going to be that exciting," she said. "Just the same people we just saw five hours ago and the same crappy beer we've been drinking for the last four years."

  "Justin said he's gonna make his punch," Kayla replied, as if that was some kind of bargaining chip to make her want to come.

  "I'll keep 911 on speed dial, then," Abby muttered. She protested, but they both knew she was going to go. Parties were fun sometimes, and this was likely the last one she'd have time to go to. Over the summer and the months that followed it, she had two jobs and an internship lined up, and that was going to take up most of the time she would have for socializing.

  "Abby," Kayla whined.

  "Okay, okay," Abby said, laughing a little. "I'll be there. I just need to find something to wear first."

  Two hours later, she walked into the party, and all eyes were on her. That was something of a feat considering how packed the place was. She wasn't even sure whose house this was, or who was in charge of throwing the party, but it was wall to wall students and friends of students and probably people who had heard the music and come to investigate and had no idea who anyone here was. The bass line of whatever song was playing was heavy and it rattled in Abby's head as they walked in. The main room was dim, and people were dancing, writhing on each other, despite the unseasonable warmth of the air.

  "Great speech today, Abs!" called someone she vaguely recognized from one of her math classes.

  "Thanks," she called back, waving politely.

  "You look great, Abby!" called someone else, and she didn't even see who it was, but she aimed a smile and another wave in that direction.

  "It's like walking in with royalty," Kayla muttered under her breath, and Abby glanced at her and then shrugged.

  "You're the one who wanted me to come."

  "I'm not complaining. You make me more popular by association. Let's go see what the drinks and food are looking like."

  As far as college parties went, it was a pretty good one. People seemed torn between trying to seem more grown up now that they were officially college graduates (someone had brought sixteen year old scotch and added it to the drink table, and Abby was pretty sure she'd seen three guys from the football team smoking cigars in the bathroom) and embracing their last chance to be dumb and immature before society told them they needed to find jobs and start being 'real adults' (hence the beer pong and the keg stand that was happening in the garden of whoever's house this was). Abby moved fluidly between the two groups, smiling and talking and nursing the same whiskey and coke she'd started with for the first hour of the party, politely declining other people's offers to get her something more.

  "You're like the president," her friend Dana said when she found her in line for the bathroom. "Spend a little time with each group, make them think you're one of them."

  Abby snorted, she was weaving a little because she'd somehow acquired two more whiskey and cokes. "Kayla says I'm like the queen."

  Dana shook her head, grinning. "No, no, the queen's too...high. Too unapproachable. You've got to be like the president and make people think you're on their side. Like you came to the top from being one of them instead of being born into your power. See how it works?"

  She laughed, putting a hand over her mouth. "Not even a little bit."

  The two of them giggled in the line until they could go to the bathroom.

  Summer passed in a blur after that. Abby filled her time with her two jobs, working in a coffee shop and temping in an office before her internship started in October. She kept busy, going from place to place, saving money, and looking for people in the city who wanted roommates. By the time winter rolled around, she wanted to be well on her way to having a good job and an apartment.

  It all seemed to be going her way, so of course it made sense that something had to throw a wrench in the works.

  It wasn't what she'd expected, either. Bad hair days, a poor job at work, someone throwing her under the bus: all of that she'd prepared for and would have been able to handle.

  Nothing in her entire life had made her ready to walk outside one day and see what looked like a floating city above her head.

  "What the..." her mouth dropped open, and she, like everyone else around her, craned her neck to see what was happening.

  All she could think of was it being a floating city. Most of what she could see was the perfectly domed bottom of it, seemingly made of shiny chrome that caused her to have to shield her eyes when it caught the sun.

  As it moved over the city, though, she could see that there were buildings resting on the top of it, starting low around the outer circumference and then stretching up in ever growing heights as it went towards the center. No one could been seen yet, but it was massive, and as it moved into the line of the sun, an ominous shadow fell over the city and everyone standing in the street watching.

  "What is it?" someone whispered, eyes wide and fearful.

  "I don't know," someone else chimed in.

  "Aliens," muttered a third person, eyes wide as he stepped up and craned his neck back further. "Has to be."

  "It could be some kinda publicity stunt," a hopeful voice said. "Like a hot air balloon that's trying to advertise something."

  No one seemed to be on board with that. "You ever see a h
ot air balloon that looks like that?" snapped someone in the crowd. "We're all dead. Nobody comes in a flying city like this and wants something nice."

  Apparently she was saying what they were all thinking because for a moment the stunned silence and peace held, and then it shattered all at once. People were screaming and running, tripping over each other in their haste to get away from something they didn't understand.

  Abby knew she should be running with them, getting away and finding somewhere safe to go until someone could find out what this thing was and what it wanted here, but she was almost transfixed by the sight of it. In her young life she'd seen very few things that she would classify as extraordinary, but this definitely counted.

  She didn't know how she knew, since she was certainly no expert on the subject, but there was no way this had been made by human hands. Nothing so majestic and beautiful could have been done by someone on Earth, and Abby was both terrified and exhilarated to think about where it could be from.

  "Look out!" someone screamed, and it jerked her out of her thoughts and made her pay attention. A ladder was unfolding from the side of the structure at the same time as it was getting lower. Something was going to come down from the ship. Abby didn't know how she knew it was a ship, but she did. She knew it, and it got her moving.

  She didn't exactly want to see whatever was about to come down and kill them all.

  In the end, it was almost anticlimactic. There were no guns, no lasers, no demands. The ladder came down and something was on it, and when the creature got close enough for the humans gathered below to see it, they could all see that it was a man. Probably the most beautiful man any of them had ever seen before. He was tall and slender, and he had a head full of thick, dark hair, that tumbled down his back in inky curls. His skin was like alabaster, pale and perfect, and golden eyes shone out of a heart shaped face with strong cheekbones and a defined jaw. He looked almost elfin, or at least how the media had told them elves would look, and he was just as tall, back straight as he stepped off the ladder and looked around.

  No one moved. No one dared to breathe. In the presence of such beauty, they didn't know what they should do. The man was garbed in all white, and someone fell to their knees near Abby where she had stopped.

  "An angel," the woman whispered. "It has to be."

  Abby wasn't so sure.

  Around her, more people were getting to their knees. Prostrating themselves in front of the creature like he was indeed the second coming. Or if he was heralding it.

  There were no wings to speak of on the creature, but he did look angelic. At least until he opened his mouth.

  The voice was soft and melodious, almost too lovely to belong to a man. "This planet is ours now," he said. "You will all submit."

  Chapter One: Begin

  “You would think it’d be easier to find a moving city,” Sorrin muttered as he banged on the side of the machine that held his radar sensor. It was old, definitely not one of those fancy new ones that worked all the time and never caused anyone any trouble, but it was what he had. If he’d stayed with the Queen’s Men, then he’d have had access to more delicate equipment, but Sorrin didn’t need delicate. He didn’t need fancy, either. Hell, most of the time, he didn’t even need completely functional. He just needed it to point him in the direction of the floating city when it showed up.

  And it would show up. Sorrin knew that well enough. Creatures like the Camadors didn’t just vanish into thin air, never to be seen again. They were sadistic and cruel, and they liked to play their games. They would destroy a place and then leave for a while, probably picking out some new and different place to wreak havoc on in their downtime. But they would come back.

  Sorrin meant to be ready for them.

  Though he was a member of the Dirnamen clan and had been born on planet Shor, Sorrin hardly considered himself one of them anymore. Part of taking up the mantle of being one of the warriors who served any member of the galactic Senate was leaving behind the ways of your past and embracing who you were in the present. At twenty years and some days, Sorrin had been more than ready to do that. His family had cautioned against it, of course, joining any warrior band was a dangerous thing, and some Senators weren't above using their warriors as living, breathing meat shields, determined to make sure that the warriors kept them safe one way or another.

  Senator Halphia hadn't been anything like that, of course. Unlike her fellows on the Senate, she'd been kind and open to embracing the ideas of the people. Her warriors would have died for her if only because that was the kind of loyalty she inspired.

  For all they were still using the warrior method of battle and protection, they actually lived in a rather advanced society. The city of Gollen Par had been something of a mixed bag, calling people from all over the galaxy to it. There truly had been something for everyone there, from job opportunities to better housing to all kinds of culture. It was a new city built on the bones of an old one, and it had been ever expanding.

  When Sorrin had taken the job working for Halphia, he'd brought his family to live there. The squalor they'd been living in back on Shor hadn't been worth staying in, and he wanted the best for them.

  Unfortunately, that had gotten them killed. Should have just stayed on Shor.

  All his thoughts usually circled back to that, and he gave himself a mental shake and turned his eyes back to the sensors. They were black screens that were monitoring the space around the planet and just outside of it. Ever widening green rings indicated distance, and a softly pulsing yellow line showed where there was nothing. If the floating city showed up, the line would turn red, and then Sorrin would know.

  But it had been years of nothing. Hundreds and hundreds of days of nothing, and honestly, it was starting to make him go a little mad. All he wanted was a blip. A little sign. Something.

  He knew he wasn't wrong about this. If someone else had defeated the Camadors then he'd have heard about it. His personal tablet and communication device was set up so that any major news stories with 'Camador' or 'floating city' in the article would ping an alarm and he'd see it. Over the years there'd been very few pings. So they weren't dead. Which meant they were out there somewhere in the vast recesses of space. Biding their time. Waiting.

  "Are you still looking at those screens, old man?"

  Sorrin sighed and rubbed his fingers over his head. Back when he'd been a warrior, a proud one, his dark hair had fallen into his eyes and just over his collar. Now it was buzzed short, just the softest bristly strands still on his head, and sometimes he still made the motions of raking his hands through his hair in frustration, only to find air.

  "I'm not old," he muttered, turning to see Caldir, a young man who lived in the building. Sorrin wasn't old, and he wasn't even that much older than Caldir, maybe five years at the most, but the boy seemed younger by virtue of his inexperience. Or maybe it was just Sorrin's experience that made him seem older. Either way, the relationship between the two of them was what Caldir had called 'fondly antagonistic' before, and Sorrin couldn't exactly argue. He didn't have a problem with the boy, but he was always underfoot, and managed to catch Sorrin in more moments of weakness than he would like. "What do you want?" he asked, hoping to speed this along.

  But Caldir had that look on his face. The one that was all mischief and said it was going to be a cold day in the fire pits before this was a short, easy to deal with conversation. Sorrin sighed.

  "Just on my way back from work," he said. "Saw you up here and thought I'd say hello."

  "And now you've said it," Sorrin said, going back to his work. He aimed a kick at the side of one of the machines and watched as the screen flickered and died. Void take it.

  "You can't just kick this old tech around," Caldir said, stepping closer from where he had been leaning against the door to the roof. Strictly speaking, they weren't supposed to be on the roof of the building, but people came up here all the time, and there had never been any consequences, and no one ever reall
y held Sorrin to those sorts of rules anyway. One of the perks of being a washed up former hero, perhaps.

  "So I should get new tech and kick that?" he muttered, running his fingers across the touchpad in frustration.

  "No," Caldir replied. "And anyway, there'd be no need to kick new tech. Look, let me have a peek, okay?"

  Sorrin looked at him mistrustfully for a moment before he sighed and bowed out of the way, leaving the space open for Caldir to move into.

  He was much shorter than Sorrin's seven feet of height, topping out at maybe five feet at the most. But Caldir was a Presha, and that was how they were built. Short, stocky, and slightly reptilian, they did most of the manual labor required to keep the Colonies working.

  Gollen Par had been the city at the center of it all, but it wasn't the only one. Jotul, Fairgran, Bil-Dor, and Luz were all cities in the Colonies, spread out across two planets and operating under their own government, the galactic Senate. Each of the Colonies had something going for it, something they brought to the table, as well as some reason they wanted to be separate from whatever planet the city had been a part of originally. Each city had a Senator in residence, and each Senator had a warrior band that was responsible for the protection of the people and the Senator of that colony.

  Where Sorrin had lived and served in Gollen Par, the shining jewel of the Colonies, his shame had driven him to the outer edges to Luz, the colony furthest from the center. He'd thought about leaving altogether, of course, going back to one of the planets that had rejected the Colonies idea and still operated as a single unit, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was said that once you moved out to the Colonies it was hard to reintegrate back into life elsewhere.

  And Sorrin was having a hard enough time just living these days. So he'd stayed.

  As Caldir worked whatever magic he had with machines, Sorrin leaned his arms on the high edge of the wall that ran around the roof, keeping anyone from toppling off of it. He looked out at the city. Luz was no Gollen Par. It wasn't shiny and beautiful or even that modern. Instead it was some mixture of Fairgran's industry and the poverty he'd seen back on Shor. The Senator here was one of the ones who was mostly concerned with himself, and Sorrin could remember Halphia ranting about him and his carelessness while his people suffered. She'd be gratified to know she'd been right.