The Hand of the Gods: The Complete Series

By Odette C. Bell

The complete The Hand of the Gods series. Follow Isabel and Aaron fighting the gods in this four-book boxset.
Isabel Carter is the best the Academy’s got. Aaron Forest isn’t. Where she shines in every class, he’s tarnished down to the core.
When an unlikely series of events thrusts them together, Isabel learns Aaron’s got a secret history up his sleeve. It’s nothing compared to hers.
Isabel is about to find out that the surrogate father she’s always trusted is a fraud, and the man she hates more than anything is the only one who can save her now.
...
The Hand of the Gods follows a ticking timebomb and the cadet trying to save her as they fight for the future. If you love your space operas with action, heart, and a splash of romance, grab The Hand of the Gods: The Complete Series today and soar free with an Odette C. Bell series.
The Hand of the Gods is the 11th Galactic Coalition Academy series. A sprawling, epic, and exciting sci-fi world where cadets become heroes and hearts are always won, each series can be read separately, so plunge in today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Odette C. Bell
• Release date: Sep 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005397593

Book preview

Prologue

Nine days in the future

Isabel Carter

She couldn’t breathe as she kneeled there in the open doorway, secretly listening to the conversation occurring down the corridor.

Her life was falling apart around her ears. Out there in the hall, her mentor – her surrogate father, the only man who’d ever cared for her – showed his true colors.

Captain Bruce Bridges was the only reason Isabel was who she was today. Literally. He’d taught her, he’d trained her, and he’d never let her lose focus once as he’d crafted her into the perfect soldier.

Isabel was drenched in sweat as she listened to him take a step toward her friend, Aaron Forest.

Bridges had already knocked a man out by breaking his back against the wall. As he approached Aaron, her gut trembled and her hands shook limply in her lap.

Aaron took a hissed breath. What the hell are you? You’re the spy, aren’t you? You’re the one who opened the back door to the Kore. You’re the one who’s been running around trying to kill me.

I’m not the spy, Bridges stated flatly.

Then who is?

Bridges took a long pause. Even from here, Isabel could tell there’d be a satisfied, victorious smile crumpling his lips. I just trained the spy.

Aaron wheezed. No—

Yes, Bridges said. Isabel is the spy. She’s something I picked up years ago. A gift from the Gods.

No way, Aaron’s voice shook with true passion. She was the one who saved me from those Kore assassins.

Technically she was finishing her training and buying us the opportunity to do this here. Bridges’ shoes squeaked, and it sounded like he locked his hand on Aaron’s shoulder.

Even from here, Isabel could hear something metal moving in Bridges’ skeleton.

Aaron spluttered in deep shock. No way. No way. If Iz had wanted me, she would’ve taken me a week ago.

But a week ago, Admiral Forest hadn’t outfitted you with sensors capable of detecting the Hendari crystal in your blood.

What? Aaron’s voice became dead.

Pumping within your blood is the greatest power the galaxy has ever seen. Trust me when I say the Kore are ready to rip it from your chest, son, but we just never had the technology to accurately detect it. We do now.

There was a grunt as Aaron threw himself at Bridges.

Bridges just laughed. Don’t worry, Cadet. You won’t wake up again. With that, he punched Aaron out cold.

She could hear the thud from here as Aaron’s unconscious body hit the floor.

Isabel Carter stared at the open door, tears caking her cheeks as she clutched her mouth with shaking fingers.

She’d always wondered why she was different. She’d always questioned why she was stronger, faster, and smarter than everyone else.

Now she knew the answer. She was an undercover asset – an assassin in disguise. The man she’d trusted most in her life had made her this way, and now he was about to use her as he saw fit.

Chapter 1

Nine days in the past

Aaron Forest

Admiral Forest stared at him, a crumpled frown indenting her lips. She tapped her fingers on the desk.

Aaron didn’t move a muscle. He was good at showing a poker face. Hell, that was the only thing he was good at.

Ensign Aaron Forest, this is where you take some initiative and apologize before I order you to.

Aaron ticked his head to the side, shrugged, and settled back in his chair until he was comfortable – not that he could get too cozy in one of these cold, regulation Coalition seats.

Aaron could carve out a space for himself anywhere – that was one of his greatest skills. Just like a cat, he could rest on any surface, no matter how inhospitable, and still look relaxed.

Speaking of inhospitable, Admiral Forest’s expression became even sourer. You know there is an upper limit to my patience, don’t you?

Aaron smiled. He had to put the brakes on the move so the grin didn’t overcome his entire face. Yeah, I’m aware of that. I’ve known you since I was a little kid. First thing you learn about Lara Forest is that her patience has a real low ceiling. Sighing, he shifted his hand to the side and held it at about ankle height.

If it was possible, Admiral Forest’s expression became even sourer. You’re testing my patience, Cadet.

Yeah, I know.

I just don’t understand, she snapped without a segue. Pressing her already white, stiff lips together, she took the kind of sigh that told anyone that dealing with Aaron was a Herculean task. Hell, Hercules could lift anything with time. Dealing with Aaron was more Sisyphean. Every time Admiral Forest – or anyone who tried to control him for that matter – thought they were getting somewhere with him, he would just roll back downhill.

Which is exactly what he did now. He shrugged, arched his hands back, clamped them behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He frowned. You’ve got some kind of stain up there. Might be blood. Probably from the myriad crazy battles the Academy has been in over the past 15 years, ha?

This is no time for a distraction. You are on a precipice, Aaron.

He looked down, dropped his hands into his lap, and arched an eyebrow. Aaron? Are you admitting you know me now?

She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. That was the most defeat she was going to show. Her expression hardened like setting smart concrete a second later. It’s time for an ultimatum. You know what those are, don’t you? Because you’ve been given enough.

It was his turn to sigh. Yes. I’m conversant with the Standard Galactic tongue. I understand what an ultimatum is. Now lay it on the table. He spread his hands out as if he were inviting her to show her cards.

This isn’t a game, Aaron. If you do not shape up, you will be kicked out of the Academy. And that has consequences. It will go on your record. Choosing to leave or being forced to leave are two very different things. Getting kicked out, she pressed a hand on the desk, and she pressed an even harder frown over her lips as she faced him, will tell any prospective employer the kind of character you are.

Not all prospective employers give a hoot about the Academy. Especially these days. Who said I need to look for employment, anyway? I’ve got enough money from dear old mom to do as I please.

He shouldn’t have mentioned his mom. Lara’s eyes twitched. If you thought ordinary people couldn’t twitch their eyeballs, you’d never met the indomitable Admiral Forest.

My late cousin might have left you a fortune, Aaron—

He cut her off at the pass. Staring at her unflinchingly, he showed the only genuine emotion he had since he’d been dragged in here. But she also left me alone, ha?

Though Admiral Forest rarely backed down from anything, she looked away fleetingly.

She didn’t need to take the risks she did. She wanted to. And hey, he shrugged, that was her choice. I’m just what’s left behind.

Lara pressed her lips together and pushed her teeth against them. Slowly, she shook her head. What happened to your mother is a tragedy. Do not let it ruin the rest of your life. From now on, you must be—

Responsible? Again, he cut her off at the pass. It was his turn to lean against the desk. He knew for a fact that no one would ever lean against Admiral Forest’s desk and talk to her as casually as he was now. Even her husband, Admiral Nok, knew his limitations.

She demanded respect. But here’s the thing – Aaron didn’t give it. Not to Admiral Forest, not to his superiors, and not to his classmates. It wasn’t to say he was a rude, arrogant brat – though sometimes he was. It was to say that respect didn’t come automatically with your rank. You earned it through your actions.

If there was one thing his mother had taught him, it was that.

Let’s be clear, my current behavior has nothing to do with my dear dead mother. That’s in the past.

And your future is in the future.

Aaron pressed his lips together in the kind of crumpled smile that statement deserved. Thank you for the temporal lesson, Admiral.

She leaned even closer. The desk was large, and Lara wasn’t that big, but that wasn’t the point. She could loom. Hell, if he pitted her against a giant 10 times her size, she would still come off as more intimidating.

Somewhere deep in Aaron’s gut, he almost flinched. He said almost. The part of him that cared about authority had been stamped out. Putting up with the Academy would do that to a guy.

You cannot let your fears and indiscretions decide who you will be in the future. You won’t always feel this way, Aaron. One day, you will regret the things that you did and the opportunities you passed up.

He shrugged. Scratching a hand down his angular jaw, he looked around the office. There was nothing to stare at. Admiral Forest practically ran the Academy. She had multiple offices. Hell, he knew for a fact that she had an entire basement level of the Academy all to herself. What she did there? Who knows. He didn’t, and he didn’t care. Point was, though this office was empty, he didn’t want to stare into her eyes right now and listen to yet another fist-pumping speech about how he should care more about his future.

He did care about the future – as much as it deserved. It’d never been particularly kind to him. He’d once had grand plans. So had his mother. A research scientist by career, she’d forgone the Academy, quitting at a young age. She would’ve gone through the same crap he was going through now. People would have told her not to quit, too, but she’d gone on to surpass everybody’s expectations.

It’s dangerous to assume that you’ll fall on your feet, Lara warned.

He chuckled. Have you ever heard about me, Lara? He scratched his chin. Falling on my feet might be the only thing I’m good for. Combat is the only class I pass.

Combat skills won’t get you far in this galaxy.

You tell that to the mercenary clans. I hear there’s good danger pay out in the colonies.

You will be wasting your skills, she warned.

What skills? The fact I have absolutely no capacity to fill the Academy’s rigorous standards is why I’m here in the first place. Now, you’ve said your piece. I’m on my last warning. If I fail another class, that’s it. He shrugged, pointing out how little that concept affected him.

Her lips twitched. Your grades are not the only condition.

He shrugged again. You don’t want me giving lip to officers. Yeah, I get it. Word must have spread about my run-in with Lieutenant Winston, but I didn’t agree with the way he was taking his class. If there’s one thing I’ve inherited as a Forest, he looked right at her, it’s that you speak up if you see something you don’t like.

Your behavior will be monitored by your superiors, and it will be shared directly with me.

He patted his chest with several loud thumps. I’m flattered, Admiral. The most important leader in all of the Coalition is going to be monitoring little old me. You have better things to do, he said flatly. Plus, we both know what’s gonna happen here.

And what’s that? It was time for Admiral Forest to use her own poker face.

I’m gonna get kicked out. I’m gonna screw up again. It’s only a matter of time. Because I, he stood tall as he pushed his chair into the desk with a hard shove, am the Coalition’s greatest disappointment. He winked and went to walk out.

You have not been dismissed yet, Aaron. You might pretend not to be able to keep up with most of the Academy’s rigorous standards, she parroted precisely what he’d said earlier, but you know that rule.

Sighing, he turned. He even smiled, though it wasn’t because he was happy and neither was he being friendly. That was just his resting facial position. May I be dismissed, Admiral, please? He snapped a totally unnecessary salute.

She sighed one last time. She rose. She took a long time to look at him. Up and down, up and down, it was like she was counting every single one of his faults. She could try, but it would take a long time to list all of his problems. Even before his mother had died, Aaron hadn’t been one for authority.

You’ve got something special in you, Aaron, I know it. Trust me, she said with a knowing look that would tell everyone she knew what she was talking about. I’ve seen enough cadets in your exact position who doubted their abilities just like you do now.

He sniggered. I don’t doubt my abilities. They don’t exist. Except for combat, he added, a certain kind of smile on his lips. We all know I’m great at punching things.

She ignored his comment. I’ve seen enough people in your exact position, she repeated, to know that all you lack is one thing.

He was done with this. If he was going to get kicked out for one more act of insubordination, he might as well make it impressive and sass the head admiral herself. He turned and walked to the door. Just before he got within range of it automatically opening, she cleared her throat. The thing you lack, she said pointedly, is a challenge.

That comment actually got to him. Shifting his jaw hard, he looked right at her. I face challenges every day. Last night, there were no hot dogs left over in the cafeteria—

Whether you like it or not, Aaron, challenges always come. That’s part of life. The question will be how you respond. She took several seconds to look at him once more. Her eyes could have pierced through the thickest armor.

If there’s one thing you know full well about me, Lara, it’s that I don’t face challenges. I walk away from them. With that, he walked out.

Chapter 2

Isabel Carter

You’ll make an admiral yet, Isabel, Captain Bridges said as he clapped. The sound echoed through the training ground, his big hands like a drum of appreciation.

Isabel stood from her crouched position and wiped the sweat off her brow with a swipe of her thumb and forefinger. Well, I don’t think I’ve worked that hard for a long time.

He chuckled. You work that hard – and harder – every time you train. That’s what makes you special, kid. Real appreciation glittered in his eyes as he smiled even wider. You excel where others don’t. You try where others fail, and you will rise where the rest of your classmates will stagnate.

She tried to smile, but it was awkward. You would think she would’ve gotten used to praise by now, but you’d be wrong. Every time it was showered on her – either by Captain Bruce Bridges or her classmates and teachers – it just got weirder.

Isabel couldn’t help the way she was. She was tall, she was fit, and she’d always been strong. She was great in all of her classes. She was the top of her grade. And when she graduated in a few short months, she would take a position on a massive heavy cruiser. Heck, she just had to pick which one. She didn’t have to line up to apply – captains were lining up for her.

Arching her back and planting her palm against her lumbar, she rolled her lip through her teeth. I feel like I’m still slowing down too much in the second half of the course. I know I’ve got more speed in me.

Bridges chuckled. He crossed his large arms in front of his broad chest and looked right at her. You’re right. You can get faster. All of his vocal emphasis was on the word can. It was like the equivalent of an exclamation mark. Not one of surprise, but one of force. Because Bridges was all about force. Everything he did – everything he said – came with the promise of strength.

A new breed of captain, as he called himself, he’d cut his teeth a long way away from Earth. He’d patrolled the colony worlds for years. During the recent upsets that had plagued the Coalition, he’d been tasked with keeping those outer colonies safe and stopping the many enemies who bayed for the Coalition’s blood from taking advantage of its disquiet.

Ever since her parents had died, Bridges had become her mentor. She had no one else like him in her life. Hell, she imagined ordinary people didn’t have people like him either. There was something epic about him she couldn’t put her finger on, despite the fact she’d known him for years.

Shrugging again, she finished wicking the sweat from her brow, and she pulled down her Coalition standard activewear, making sure to neaten out any creases in her T-shirt. What do you think I’m doing wrong?

You’re putting out too much power early on. On a dynamic obstacle course like this, you’ve got to keep your grunt for the last half. The computer will learn what you do. If you give it your all in the first round, it will adapt too quickly.

If I lag, I’ll waste precious seconds. I know I’m close to shaving at least half a minute off my best time, but I don’t think saving all my energy for the last half of the course is the solution.

People didn’t usually second-guess Bridges. He had a reputation for jumping down the throat of anyone who questioned him. Hell, she’d even heard him share sharp words with admirals over the years, despite the fact they outranked him.

With her it was different. With her, Bridges had always taught her to push. Push her body, push her mind, and push anyone who got in her way.

That wasn’t a rude thing. Or at least, she didn’t interpret it that way. She didn’t run around doing whatever she pleased at the Academy. Hell, she was her mother’s daughter, and if there was anything Nelly had taught her, it was to be conscientious and polite.

What she was getting at was that when it came to Bridges, he’d taught her to question him. He wanted her to be independent. A good soldier could think on their own, act on their own, and make a difference on their own.

As she walked out of the training ring, the computer disengaged, and a beep echoed through the air. The training ground was a large room of about 50 meters by 50 meters. It was composed of multiple interchangeable rings that could move around the large space. There were massive holographic projectors embedded in the floor, walls, and ceiling. The entire 50-meter-square area could become a movable and programmable obstacle course. You could train anyone anything here. Hell, you could even simulate the bridge of a super-heavy cruiser. Combat, engineering, medicine – all of the key areas of the Coalition could be taught in a room like this.

Training grounds were expensive. They were usually booked out by classes. Bridges had always found the time and authority to get her extra training in them by herself. Back when she’d just started at the Academy, she’d wondered if he was overstepping the line, using his familiarity with her and abusing his authority to give her a leg up.

Now she didn’t question anymore. It was a legitimate part of her training. As the top of her class, she could request at least seven hours a week in one of these training centers. She used every single one.

Grabbing a metal flask with a miniaturized water synthesizer lodged in the bottom, she tapped on the base with her palm twice. It vibrated, and two lines of yellow diodes lit up along the side. In a matter of seconds, it had synthesized water right out of the air.

She chugged it down, not caring as several long lines splashed down her chin and throat.

She wiped them away, synthesized another bottle, and drank that too.

All the while Bridges watched her.

He often did that. It’s how he gave her tips to change and grow. And there was always… this quality behind his gaze. As she’d said before – there was no one like Bridges. His attention was something else entirely. It was sharp, crystal clear, and totally aware. It was like he was a computer in disguise.

When she was done, they walked out of the training room.

I managed to bend the combat faculty’s arm, Bridges said. We’ve got another training room coming online next week. It’ll be calibrated by the engineers for the rest of this week. They’re just making fine-tuning adjustments so that it can handle real-world simulations of critical core meltdowns. A function you won’t need.

She frowned. So you’re telling me I can use it while the engineers aren’t calibrating?

He nodded. And you will. And by the end of this week, you’ll have cut half an hour off your best training time. There was no question. Because there never was with Bridges. If he knew something would happen, then it would happen, because he would move Heaven and Earth to ensure it did.

Grinning, she nodded. Thanks. But are you sure I won’t be getting in anyone’s way?

You know the engineering faculty. Not too many people can get in Chief Engineer Xevox’s way. She’ll let you know if she needs the room. Use the time. Improve, he said simply.

She nodded.

He patted her on her shoulder. That was the most human contact they ever had. Bridges was not the kind to bother with such trivial things. He was a man of action, and aside from his loyal crew, he was a loner.

In many ways, Isabel was like him. She might be the top of her class, and the rest of her peers might adore her, but… she’d never been able to connect.

It wasn’t them. It was very much her. Blame it on the early death of her parents or something else, but Isabel always felt different.

They parted outside of the training facility, and Isabel wished Bridges good luck for his next mission. Then she turned and hurried to class.

Sorry, pre-class. It was only 6:30 in the morning. She’d already put in an hour and a half of training. Now she was going to a pre-class for engineering. It wasn’t like she technically needed it. Her scores in engineering were great, but they weren’t the best, and as Bridges kept telling her, she should be the best. The only thing that stopped her was motivation.

Isabel had never questioned his reasoning.

… Though it was awkward to admit, she really was very good. No, exceedingly good. She… it just went back to the fact that she’d always been stronger, fitter, and smarter than everyone around her.

Long before her parents had died, when she’d been in primary school, when she’d played sports, she’d been in divisions five grades ahead of her. At the Academy, she was already in her last year, so now she played in the non-human divisions. Otherwise, it wasn’t a challenge.

Sighing, she rushed to class.

Once pre-engineering was done, it was time to start her ordinary day of study.

She had a full day of classes. When it was over, she’d come back and train. You could easily accuse Isabel of not having a life. Sometimes she wondered if there was more. Then she reminded herself that a life worth living was a life of work. That had been her father’s mantra. It was one she carried with her wherever she went – as well as his signet ring.

He’d been an accomplished scientist. He’d helped discover newer, cleaner energy sources for the previous class of Coalition cruisers. The Coalition wouldn’t be in the position it was today if it hadn’t been for him. Even if she tried as hard as she could, she’d never do anything nearly as important as what he’d achieved, but he was still a reason to keep trying.

She wore his signet ring around her neck as a pendant. She fingered it now as she finished up medic training and headed to combat class.

Whenever she slipped her loving, nostalgic embrace around that ring, her mind calmed down. She’d get perspective. She’d remember what she was doing and why she tried so hard.

She reached combat class. It was in one of the new training centers. As she strode in, it was to the sight of all the assembled students staring at her in awe.

That kind of happened wherever she went but especially in combat class.

Isabel couldn’t explain it. She’d tried to multiple times, but there was just something about her in combat. It wasn’t even a combination of her athletic skill, agility, and determination. She just couldn’t fail when it came to fighting.

She hadn’t had a chance to change into her activewear yet. Something Commander Phillips, who was running the class, noted as she looked Isabel up and down. We all know you’re brilliant, Cadet, but the standard uniform isn’t great for running drills in. Unless you want an extra challenge today, I suggest you go change.

Bashfully, Isabel nodded and averted her eyes. I didn’t get a chance to change – sorry. I had to stay behind for an honors project in science class.

Phillips chuckled. Don’t sweat it. Go change. By that time, our wayward hero should’ve arrived.

Isabel’s nose scrunched. Sorry? Wayward hero?

It’s kinder than what the other teachers call him. Aaron is a lot of things, but at least in my class he’s not a screwup.

Aaron? Sorry, but I’m lost.

That’s because I haven’t explained anything yet. It’s going to be a different class today. Hell, it’s going to be different for the rest of the semester. You might notice that there are more students here today. Phillips gestured to the assembled crowd. The fourth and fifth years will be combining on an upcoming training mission. Each year group will be led by the best students in their grade. That will be you for the fifth years and Cadet Forest for the fourth years. This will be a special assignment.

Before Isabel could question what Phillips meant by special, she was shooed off to change. When she came back in, it was to the sight of a guy walking into the training ground a full 12 minutes late.

She thought she’d seen him around, but it was hard to say. He had a semi-muscular build. He certainly wasn’t as large as some of the combat specialists in her class, but what he lacked in bulk, he made up for in sinewy agility. She could just tell from the way he was built that he knew how to move. He would combine speed with strength, and if he knew how to work those two, he would be a deadly opponent.

When a cadet was late, they rushed right up to their teacher, explained their issue, and embarrassedly shuffled to the back of the class. Not this guy. He walked in and nodded at Phillips, offered her a half-frown half-grin as if he hadn’t been able to help himself, then dumped his bag on the floor. He casually planted a hand on his hip and stared at the training ground, his gaze sweeping over the assembled students quickly. You’ve got quite a crowd here today, Phillips.

That’s Commander to you, Cadet, Phillips said, her voice tight with a warning.

Either this guy was too obtuse to pick it up, or he just didn’t care. He scratched his shoulder. He was in the standard cadet uniform. While Isabel hadn’t had a chance to change before class, she’d quickly rectified the issue.

This guy? He kicked his bag to the side, stared at the other students, then turned and looked at the ceiling for some reason.

Cadet, what are you doing? Phillips asked. You could mistake her voice for being patient. It certainly had an even tone. But if you read between the lines – and critically, you saw her gaze – you would realize that patience was the last thing on her mind. It was obvious that this cadet was walking a tightrope, and Phillips was about to push him off.

I’m checking to see when the simulation will start running. I’m assuming, he pointed from him to the other assembled cadets, that the only reason you’ve brought together the fourth and fifth years is that you’re trying to teach us how to work together or something. This is going to be some, he balled up a hand and struck his chest twice, loyalty-building exercise the Coalition intends to use to forge our future relationships so we work as a single interconnected unit when we finally graduate and take our positions in space.

An accurate assessment. Though perhaps it would be more on the mark if you dropped your sarcastic tone. Now, Forest, go and change. You have two minutes.

Isabel’s eyes practically fell out of her head. Sorry. What? That was Cadet Forest? That wasn’t possible. Phillips had to have been talking about a different Cadet Forest. As the guy strode away nonchalantly like he didn’t have a single care in the world – and that included authority – Isabel deliberately searched the crowd. Soon enough she picked out one of the most physically impressive specimens – a guy who looked as if he was half-human and half-Yarra. From the way he held himself to the way the other cadets stared at him, it was clear that he was the cream of the crop when it came to the fourth years.

She tried to smile at him.

Commander Phillips clapped her hands loudly. All right, students, listen up. This is going to be the most ambitious combat scenario the Academy has ever run. You, she pointed at everyone, get to be guinea pigs. If we can pull this off, it will change the standard combat program. It will prepare you in a way other cadets have only ever dreamed of for the real rigors of space. This will be a privilege, she started walking around the cadets and staring at them in turn, and a burden. You will be expected to put in twice as much effort as those going through the standard class. You won’t get any better grades. You won’t get any fancy commendations. All you will get is better training. And in my mind, she tapped a short nail against her left temple, that’s a better deal. Ultimately, space doesn’t care if you’ve got a lot of medals.

Space only cares if you can stay alive, someone said from behind Phillips.

It was Cadet Forest. He now wore his active gear – tight black and gray pants, a gray tunic top, and an unzipped jacket. Standard cadet activity wear was made of smart, reactive fabrics that conformed to the shape of their wearer. They wicked sweat away, regulated body temperature, and offered a little protection against contusions, muscle damage, and fractures.

Somehow, Forest made it look as if he’d worn his clothes to bed. They were rumpled, loose, and exactly not what you would expect from a fourth year.

Isabel usually didn’t find herself upholding social standards. Her surrogate father did that for her. She liked to think that she was easy-going. Something about Cadet Forest rubbed her up the wrong way, and she crossed her arms and frowned at him.

He noticed. Rather than look bashful, he slowly pressed his lips into a smile and winked.

Before she could splutter – or blush if her mutinous cheeks had their way – Phillips turned. The prodigal son has returned. Yes. That was what I was going to say. You’ve heard it enough, haven’t you? But do you really understand the rigors of space? There was something pointed about the way Phillips said that.

Forest shrugged. Do I understand that space tries to kill you in ever creative ways? Do I understand that the Coalition has become progressively less safe? Do I understand that our enemies have been pushing further into our borders? Do I understand the combat program has been lacking for several years? Yeah, I think I do.

Phillips had been cutting Cadet Forest a lot of slack. That ended now. With one stiff thumb, she pointed him toward the back of the class. No more snide comments. I’ll be talking to you at the end of the class. And I will be talking to her, she added.

Isabel could only assume that Phillips meant Forest’s supervisor. For him to have one, it meant that he was in trouble enough to require his very own compliance officer.

That didn’t surprise Isabel at all. She thought nothing of crossing her arms tighter and scowling even harder.

Right, Phillips said as Cadet Forest slowly slouched his way to the back of the class. As I was saying, she said pointedly, you won’t get anything special for participating in this mission. If you want extracurricular points, I suggest you opt out and go do some other class. All you’ll get from this experience is experience, and you will get to use it as you see fit. The galaxy, she looked right at Isabel for some reason then switched her gaze around, searched through the crowd, and stared at Forest, is changing, she emphasized with a puff of air. Quickly. So quickly it’s hard to predict what will happen next. We have new enemies, her voice dropped, and a new galaxy full of potential trouble. The way you learn to handle yourselves under stress could dictate the lives of thousands if not millions of souls in the Coalition. I go back to the point that you are privileged to be taking part in this experience. But this is a burden. Once you acquire worthwhile skills, you have a responsibility to use them in the protection of those less able than yourselves. I only ask that you use this mission to do just that. If this extra training can mean each of you saves one extra life, she brought a finger up and held it stiffly, then it will have paid for itself.

Isabel listened. She was always extraordinarily conscientious when it came to class. Hell, it was a surprise she wasn’t taking notes. She usually cared about the exact intonation of her lecturer’s voice, their body language, and their precise choice of words. For whatever reason, she found her gaze ticking to the side and searching through the crowd until it locked on Mr. Screwup. She’d remembered what Phillips had said. The name fit the guy perfectly. There was something about him that gave you the impression that even if you gave him the best weapons, the best armor, and the best orders, he would drop the ball every single time.

She’d already pointed out that he’d rubbed her up the wrong way – but being willfully incompetent was worse. Her parents had been killed in an accident. A preventable one. An arrogant, drunk pilot had led to their deaths. This guy reminded her exactly of that pilot – someone who just didn’t have the basic human decency to care for those around them.

This is what’s gonna happen, Phillips got down to business. Swiping her hand to the side, a holographic projector dismounted from a hole in the ceiling. As it hovered above her head, it changed shape until a circular rim of yellow light spread out in every direction. It soon transposed a scene all around the combat training room, solid holograms intermingling among the cadets.

It showed an ice planet. Isabel tried to discern where it could be based on the color of the snow and the shape of the crags.

Does anyone know where this planet is? Phillips asked.

Isabel put a hand up. It was on the tip of her tongue.

Cadet Isabel Carter? Phillips asked, a smile in her voice.

It’s Ragnar. 2B, if I’m an expert, a surly voice pointed out from the back of the room.

It had to be Cadet Forest.

Phillips chuckled. Was that a guess, Forest?

Very specific guess, sir. The more specific a guess is, the less likely it is to be a guess.

I don’t need a lesson on probability. Now, you’re right. This is Ragnar 2B.

There was a general muttering of excitement. It ran through the crowd like wildfire rushing through dry grass.

Does anyone know why Ragnar 2B would be the perfect place for a combat training scenario? Phillips asked.

Now Isabel knew what she was looking at, she understood perfectly. Sir, if I may? She put her hand up.

Again Phillips got halfway through pointing at Isabel before Forest interrupted.

He cleared his throat. It was a loud, irritating noise. It has variable conditions. They don’t know why, but at some point in its history, it had an unfortunate run-in with a quantum singularity. Its seasons change by the day, sometimes by the hour depending on which area you find yourself in. You can go from freezing like the tail of a comet, to a heatwave that will melt everything around you and turn the terrain into a deadly mudslide.

Phillips pressed her lips together. It was hard to predict whether she would act angrily at his interruption or praise him. Because he was right.

She settled for a mixture of both. Please don’t interrupt. But you are correct. Ragnar 2B is the perfect place for a training simulation, because this planet alone combines terrain like nowhere else. There are patches that are so variable, a beach can become inundated in snow and the ocean can freeze in a matter of minutes. It is a Class A inhospitable world.

A cadet put his hand up. Forest didn’t feel the need to interrupt this guy.

Yes, Cadet, Phillips said.

Sir, if it’s so inhospitable, how exactly are we going to run a combat situation there?

Armor. Every team will be outfitted with their own unique prototype armor that will not just be able to withstand the conditions, but that will be able to adapt. She lifted a finger. Its level of adaptation will depend on how smart the user is.

What do you mean by smart? another cadet asked.

What makes this combat scenario unique is that not only will you be pitted against the weather, but you will be pitted against each other. Fifth years, she pointed at Isabel, will go up against fourth years.

It didn’t take long for a low muttering of discontent to amp up, not from the fourth years, but from Isabel’s classmates.

Isn’t that a little unfair? One of her classmates pointed out. We’re a full year ahead of them.

Algorithms suggest you will be evenly matched. Phillips shrugged.

From the back of the room, Forest gave a little snigger. It wasn’t loud enough to reach Philip’s ears, but Isabel heard it loud and clear. She had an extraordinary sense of hearing. And heck, she was so focused on him that right now he could drop a pin and she’d pick that up too.

Why the hell was he laughing? The Academy’s algorithms had obviously made a mistake. Isabel’s class had a full year of experience on Cadet Forest and his contemporaries. Plus, her class was ranked as one of the best in the Coalition’s history. They’d won more awards than any other grade year. She herself had won most of the awards, to be fair, but the rest of her team had racked up records that would likely stand for years if not decades.

Is this really fair? another cadet asked. We fifth years are all older and better trained.

There’s more to combat than grunt, Phillips said, again dodging the question.

Sir. Isabel lifted her hand.

Other cadets had been about to ask questions, but they all dropped their hands.

Yes, Cadet Carter?

Can you let us know a little about your reasoning?

Very well. The fifth years may have won more records than any year that has ever come before them, but, she emphasized that, the Academy’s best data science tests have run the algorithms. You and your contemporaries have a weakness.

Isabel stiffened. Everyone else smiled, reasoning Phillips had to be lying. Isabel looked alarmed. The mere suggestion that her rigorous combat training could have a weakness was like a slap to the face.

With all due respect, sir, what is that weakness?

Phillips gestured wide. You’ll find out. That’s what this combat scenario is about. Not only will we be trialing this system for future years, but we want each of your year groups to learn from one other.

As if we have anything to learn from fourth years, one of Isabel’s friends pointed out quietly.

There was a fourth-year standing close by, and he sniggered. Oh, you have something to learn, alright. The guy flicked his gaze back to Forest. You’ll learn how to fight crazy. There was a slightly accusatory note to his tone, but it was more than subsumed under amusement and a touch of pride.

… Fight crazy?

Carter, Forest, come up here. Phillips gestured to her side.

Isabel walked up, and she turned her gaze quickly toward the guy she was certain had to be the other Forest. She was wrong. The rude, insensitive, impertinent cadet who’d already aggravated her so badly she was willing to write him off for life slouched out of the back of the group and walked casually up to Phillips’ side.

Isabel stopped and stared at him.

Carter. Phillips nodded to her other side.

Finally Isabel pushed herself into gear. She stopped beside Phillips. Though she didn’t want to turn her head and actively goggle at Forest, she locked the rest of her senses on him instead.

She could hear the way his muscles creaked as he held himself like a disaffected teenager. While her chest was pushed out and her head was held high, Forest managed to look like he was leaning even though there wasn’t anything to lean against.

Cadet Aaron Forest will lead the fourth years, and Cadet Isabel Carter here will lead the fifths. For the next few months, both teams will be expected to work together before the mission date in precisely eight weeks from now, Phillips continued.

This couldn’t be happening. Phillips had to be playing some joke, because there was no way in hell this guy could possibly be the most talented student in his class. Unless the fourth years were starved of talent, that is – but looking around, Isabel saw several prime candidates who could replace the rude, irritating Aaron Forest in a heartbeat.

Isabel became so focused on Aaron that she didn’t pay a scrap of attention to what Phillips was saying. Soon Phillips waved them off and started a lecture on Ragnar 2B. Throughout the entire interactive holographic display, Isabel continued to expect Phillips to admit this was all a mistake.

By the end of the class it became clear this was no joke.

In precisely eight weeks, she’d go toe-to-toe with Aaron Forest and the rest of his class. The outcome would be one thing – total annihilation. You tell that to the fourth years, though. When the class was done and both year groups were left to eye each other off as Phillips hurried to another class, the fourth years had a certain cocky look that suggested this mission would be the upset of the century – all provided by their screwup leader, Aaron.

A few of Isabel’s friends shot Aaron unfriendly looks as he slouched his way out of class. Isabel could tell that they were all thinking what she was – there was no way in hell that someone with his personality could lead undertrained cadets to defeat the best undergraduate combat team the Academy had ever seen.

Aaron seemed oblivious, both to the stares of his proud classmates and the decidedly less kind glares of the fifth years. He walked right out of class as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

This was Isabel’s last class of the day, but that didn’t mean she was free. She had to prep for training. That didn’t stop her from marching right out of the training ground. When she got to the huge electronic doors that led out into the wide, sweeping, light-filled corridor, she saw Aaron dead ahead.

She strode right up to him, cleared her throat, and preemptively crossed her arms, because it was a safe bet that the first thing to come out of his mouth would insult either her, the Academy, or both.

Aaron didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t do her the dignity of caring.

Excuse me, she said brusquely.

He sighed and turned. Combat class is finished, Fifth Year.

You know my name, just as I know yours.

Right, yeah. Isabel, ha? Nice to meet you. Shoving his bag higher over his shoulder, he turned right around and continued down the corridor. Classroom doors branched off on both sides. There were huge windows set above them, and they let in the streaming late afternoon sun. It could almost have been pleasant – were it not for Aaron fricking Forest.

Don’t walk away from me, Cadet – the conversation is not over.

He sighed. Look—

She marched around and faced him; the task of turning and facing her was obviously too much for him. How the hell this guy had made it through to his fourth year in one of the most rigorously demanding programs in the whole galaxy, she didn’t know.

He stared right at her and gently inclined his head to the side. I’m just guessing, but you look pretty angry off with me. Despite the tone of their conversation so far, a smile spread his lips. It was fake. It did genuine people with genuine emotions a disservice to call it a smile. What it was was pure arrogance solidified into one handsome but totally not worth it face.

Though Isabel didn’t usually think like this, she needed a new vocabulary and set of rules when it came to Cadet Forest.

He took one look at her expression and laughed. Wow, You’re pretty quick on the uptake. It usually takes people a good day and a half to hate me as much as you do. What exactly was it that got on your nerves? Wait. He clicked his fingers and twisted his head to the side. I’ve heard about you. You’re a real golden girl, Cadet Carter. If there’s one thing I know about golden girls and boys, it’s that you love to keep up standards. I, he grabbed his collar and smoothed his fingers down it, must really get your goat. I am the Academy’s number one screwup. And here you are, its new rising star. Yet we still have to work together. All I can say is I’m sorry. Your luck must’ve taken a turn. Don’t worry. Our assignment together will only last for several agonizing months.

She narrowed her eyes at him. You think this is funny, do you? You heard what Philips said. This is a privilege yet a responsibility.

He rolled his eyes at her. Philips said that because she’s reading from the standard Coalition chest-thumping book on how to trick unsuspecting cadets into doing something they don’t want to do by appealing to their misguided sense of loyalty. Let me break it down for you. We are going to be taken to one of the most inhospitable planets in this quadrant, dumped down for two weeks, and set at each other’s throats. You really call that a privilege?

We will not be set at each other’s throats, Isabel tried.

This just made him click his fingers again. Right. Because we’re at each other’s throats already. Why wait for the training mission? Let’s just go toe-to-toe right now.

She looked powerfully affronted. She didn’t usually act this way. Most people respected her or at the very least afforded someone with her grades the basic dignity she deserved. Are you really suggesting a sparring match here—

Whoa, whoa. He brought his hands up wide. I’m not about to have a go at the Academy’s finest in the corridor. That’s not what I’m suggesting. We’re already engaged in combat verbally. The mission is irrelevant, anyway. I guarantee it was invented just to get to me. Don’t let yourself get caught up with this. Go live out your fantastic existence getting top marks and appearing on Academy promotional mugs, or whatever the hell happens when you’re a golden girl. Forest has made her point. I’ll go in there this afternoon, tell her she’s dreaming, and have this scenario canceled.

Suffice to say, Isabel didn’t follow. Even if his quick, informal speech had been captioned, she still wouldn’t have comprehended a thing. Sorry, Forest?

He narrowed his eyes at her and got the kind of look a worried doctor would get if his patient started spouting gibberish. As in Admiral Forest? The most decorated—

I know who Admiral Forest is, she snapped. Why would she care?

Though he’d managed to look unaffected during most of the conversation, a decidedly sour expression darkened his features. Let’s just say it’s personal. This time she’s overstepped the line. Sure, she keeps telling me I need a decent challenge, but I didn’t expect her to cook up one that involved two entire grades of the Academy.

You will afford an admiral the dignity of their rank, she began.

He lifted his hand up and let it hover close to her face. It was a little too near for her taste. She took a determined step back, her eyes blazing. What are you doing?

Just stop there. Admiral Forest was my mother’s cousin. She considers herself a surrogate mother ever since my real one passed away in a completely avoidable accident. Forest wants me to stick it out at the Academy. Me, he patted his chest twice, I can see the writing on the wall. I’m not suited for this place, and this place isn’t suited for me. This ridiculous mission, he pointed back in the direction of the training room, is nothing more than a test for me.

Though he had the same surname as Admiral Forest, she wouldn’t have guessed that he was related to her. Not in a million years. Though Isabel hadn’t had much to do with the admiral herself, considering Lara Forest was way too busy running the galaxy to bother having anything to do with ordinary cadets, Isabel knew enough about her. Every single officer, recruit, and technician at the Academy did, because there wouldn’t be an Academy without Admiral Forest. She had saved everyone’s skin more times than anyone could count. Yet here Aaron was, not only claiming to be related to her, but disrespecting her in the same sentence.

He arched an eyebrow. You’re getting a kind of fiery look in your eyes. So I’m just going to stop you right there. Like I said, this is none of your business. Forest is after me. I will quit so she can stop this dumbass training scenario and spare everyone the trouble.

You will not, Isabel said in a certain kind of voice. It was one she rarely used, but by God was it one that was effective when she did crack it out. Isabel didn’t feel as if she was on the fast track for a leadership role when she was out of the Academy. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go down that route, anyway. She firmly believed that before you led, you had to live, and there was a lot this wild, expansive, dangerous galaxy could teach her. That wasn’t the point she was getting at. Though she didn’t think she was ready for leadership, Bridges had instilled it in her from a young age. She knew when to channel his authority, and she did so right now.

But if she suspected it would have any effect whatsoever on Aaron Forest, she was sadly mistaken. His bottom lip wobbled, and then it kicked into a grin. Where’d you learn to do that? Have you been watching too many crappy space horror films? You sound like some kind of draconian over-acted bad guy. No, I tell you who you sound like – Captain Bridges. I’ve seen him on the Galactic news occasionally talking about the colonies—

That man is my father.

Forest just frowned. He has no kids.

He took me under his wing after my parents died.

For the first time, a little of Aaron’s bluster disappeared. An almost believable compassionate expression took over his features. For several seconds, at least. Sorry to hear that.

All you need to be sorry about is what you just said about Bridges and Admiral Forest. You’re a fourth year, aren’t you? She gave him a decidedly dismissive look. By now you should understand how the Academy works.

All the compassion disappeared from his eyes. It was his turn to let his gaze blaze. She fancied there was even a harder edge than she’d used on him. Believe you me, Golden Girl, I know exactly how this place works. Now, back to my original point. Don’t worry about this scenario. I’ll go straight to Admiral Forest and get it canceled. He turned from her.

Isabel wasn’t aggressive. She’d never had a reason to be. Problems always just got out of her way. She liked to think she was a sensitive, compassionate soul, and despite the fact she was freakishly good at combat and was the top of most of her classes, she wasn’t unduly assertive. So why did she grab his arm and fix her fingers in tightly? And why did she stare right into his eyes with the kind of defiance a Barbarian warrior would be proud of? You will not go to Admiral Forest and have this canceled. This is an opportunity for everyone. You’re just being arrogant if you think it has anything to do with you. Do you honestly think Admiral Forest would organize something so complicated just to give you a challenge?

Aaron got stuck staring into her eyes. It was not a romantic thing. Slowly, he shifted his gaze down to her hand, then back to her eyes. Pressing his lips together, he took several seconds to pause. Then? He laughed. Somehow, he changed emotional gears quicker than a shuttle pilot dealing with a capricious asteroid belt. You’re quite something, aren’t you, Isabel Carter? I’m not really sure what to do with your personality. You’re meek and mild on the outside, but when you’re pushed— He didn’t finish that sentence as he stared pointedly at her hand. Now, replying to your comment, yes, I absolutely think that Admiral Forest would do something like this to get me to stay in the Academy. It has her style written all over it in big neon letters.

You are not going to get this scenario canceled. I want this opportunity, Isabel said definitively.

He rolled his eyes. Really? We’ve already talked about this. It’s not an opportunity. Phillips got it right when she said it was a burden. We’re going to an inhospitable world that can change weather patterns in the blink of an eye, and we’re going to hunt each other like glorified Kore mercenaries.

This is an opportunity to learn, she said, not giving up for one second.

If you actually believe that, then I am touched. He finally yanked his arm away from her, though it was a soft move. He patted his chest as if she’d just offered him the greatest compliment.

She frowned hard. Stop fooling around.

I’m not fooling around. I’m genuinely touched, he said again with another fake smile. For a golden girl like you to actually think that I could put up any sort of challenge is a compliment indeed.

What are you talking about? She was rapidly losing patience with him. There’s no way I would ever lose to someone like you.

Great, we’re both agreed on that point. In which case, we’re both agreed that this training scenario is a complete waste of time. If you think it’s an opportunity, then you logically have to think that I could be some kind of threat to you. He stared at her pointedly, his gaze flashing with a challenge. But if we’re both agreed that there’s no chance in holy hell that I could lead the fourth years to victory over you and your golden girls and boys, then let’s end this now.

She paled at his airtight reasoning. He had an uncomfortable point. Though Isabel usually backed down when she realized she was wrong, she simply could not give up in the face of this man’s total arrogance. She’d been wrong back in the training room. He didn’t just rub her up the wrong way – every single thing about Cadet Aaron Forest made her skin crawl. Ragnar 2B itself will be an opportunity. You won’t be. Now, you are not going to get this canceled.

He just laughed. If you want to go to Ragnar 2B – then go on your own. There’s nothing stopping you from doing it in your free time. Why drag everyone else there just to make a point?

People like you disgust me, she snapped, her reason now well and truly frayed.

If it were possible, he just laughed harder. Really? You’re escalating things this fast this early on in our relationship? Fine. Leaning back against the wall, he crossed his arms and looked at her as if this was going to be a long day. Lay it out on the table, Golden Girl – what is it about me that you despise?

Deliberate incompetence. It’s people like you, she spat, her hackles rising faster with every second, who get other people killed.

He’d been about to laugh her comment off. She could tell that, because he’d opened his mouth in preparation, but something held him back. He narrowed his eyes and appeared to look at her from every angle he could. You actually believe that, don’t you? You think that you have the ability to predict how one person’s actions will or won’t lead to the greater good. Why?

I know people like you – people who don’t take responsibility seriously, foist it onto others, and pretend nothing in the galaxy is serious. People like you, her white lips moved stiffly around that word, inevitably get others killed.

Aaron laughed. It was a deep, rumbling move. He’d been playing earlier. Now he was serious. He pushed off the wall. He didn’t move his tethered arms from around his middle, and trust her, they were tethered there. The way he held them made it look as if he’d built a permanent cage around his chest. There are many things that get people killed in this giant, complicated galaxy of ours, don’t you think? Including, his voice hardened, blind loyalty. In fact, if you could put a number on the likelihood of me getting someone killed and you getting someone killed for the wrong reason, the odds would not be in your favor, Golden Girl.

She