Sun Maker: The Sun Maker Saga, #6

By Matt Wright and James L. Cook

Is there meaning anymore?

At the end of all things…

…where can one find hope?

 

Sina takes refuge with the Dominion, a growing rebel military, and the only hope for defeating the Vine.

But when the Valgeren steal the power Temperance from Aradoneh and threaten Wold again, Sina must decide whether to abandon those who cannot help themselves…

…or protect them.

 

Hana finds herself in the middle of danger, and safety seems far from her grasp. Her daughter, Lili, hears a voice calling her…

Does it mean well…

…or will it lead to her doom?

Meanwhile, Cazska must wage a war to stop Daedal, even if it means splintering herself into thousands of pieces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matt Wright
• Release date: Apr 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781955948173

Matt Wright

Matt Wright is the author of the Sun Maker Saga, a self-published space opera fantasy series, as well as a freelance writer and editor. He co-edited The Southern Quill (2017), a literary journal at Dixie State University, as well as the sci-fi/fantasy anthology, Unmasked: Tales of Risk and Revelation (2021). He also edited and reissued a new edition of From the Earth to the Moon and Round the Moon by Jules Verne (2021). He’s also the author of a few short stories set in the Sun Maker universe: Warriors (2021), The Last Star (2021), and The Astraneaum (2022).   Matt has been writing fantasy and science fiction for over fifteen years and has written full-length novels since he was in high school. He loves writing in the epic genres with echoes of mythological and historical contexts. He currently resides in Albuquerque, NM, with his wife, Elizabeth, and his best bud in the whole world, Joey.

Book preview

Prologue: Reclamation

SINA | SIX YEARS AGO

I will declare to the worlds the deeds of Aindr, who had power over the stars and lights in the sky.

The Sun Maker

Unknown

Translated by Master Archivist Kenderen

Second day of Jenian, 593 Post-Ruin

Wold

Sina strode through a dim, stony hallway. The clinking of her Svetnarion Boon armor echoed around her, reminding her that the walls in this wing pressed in close. Hating that she had to come this way, she kept her eye on the light ahead.

She arrived at a door made out of crude but rare wood. A small square window about shoulder height let in the pale sunlight from outside. She pushed on the doorway, and the hallway flooded with light.

Outside, Sina felt a stale breeze on her cheek as she followed a stone path among the grass and verdigris of the Enclave grounds. Her boots clicked against the stone, and her armor clanked awkwardly. But she liked wearing it everywhere she went. It made her feel simultaneously powerful and safe.

She couldn’t stay in the grounds long, but she needed a break. Her mind wandered from one concern to another—each leaving its own bitter taste in her mouth. Of those concerns, one stood out the most: it was difficult being a Svetnarion Warrior. Everyone required too much of her, it seemed. Especially the Wardens. Sina was the only Warrior in the military, the only one worthy of that special armor. The only one who could claim to be fatigued in mind and body.

Lehena was close to becoming a Warrior, but she didn’t have Sina's stamina. Lehena’s mind was always elsewhere, unready to juggle the multitude of problems that Sina constantly had. It was probably for the best, though. Lehena was a good soldier, but she didn’t seem like the Warrior type.

Sina’s eyes scanned the grounds until she found Lehena sitting under the shade of a small tree. Her back was to Sina, and she gazed out at the gray, placid waters of the Sea.

Sina smiled. The sight of Lehena made Sina feel better, at least.

Lehena wore a dark-brown dress that wouldn’t get noticeably stained by the dirt she sat in. When Sina came up alongside her, Lehena leaned forward, her arms wrapped around her knees. Her intense, dark eyes focused on some unknown spot out in the sea. Her long, brown hair fell over her right shoulder and needed combing. She didn’t notice Sina at first.

Sina struggled to sit down on the ground, her armor complaining as she did. Aren’t you a little late to training? she said.

Finally, Lehena glanced her way, and the frown turned into a small smile. She straightened her legs and looked down into her lap as if embarrassed. I…, she said. I was thinking about him again, and I lost track of time.

Sina nodded. She knew what Lehena meant but didn’t respond, resolving only to listen.

Lehena drew a deep breath and sighed. Do you remember when I told you that most days were good days, and some weren’t?

Sina nodded. I remember.

Today is one of those bad days. Lehena sniffed and ran her hand through her long, thick hair. She didn’t look up.

Sina scooted closer to her. The dew on the grass dampened her trousers, but she didn’t care. She put her hand on Lehena’s shoulder. And do you remember I said you could talk to me about anything? Whenever you needed?

Lehena glanced up at her, faint crystal tears brimming in her eyes. I do.

You never talked about him before, Sina said.

Lehena looked away and sighed. The Wardens don’t want me to. They say it’s unseemly.

Sina frowned. It was a strange request from the Wardens. Well, she said. I’m sure they have their reasons. Maybe…it’s something you should forget.

Lehena’s frown returned, and a darkness filled her eyes. He’s always going to be there, Sina. No matter what I do. How can a mother forget her child?

Sina wanted to say, It was never born. How do you know it was a boy? But she refrained. She’d made the mistake of asking her that same question before.

Then talk to me, Sina said, moving closer to her. I won’t tell the Wardens, least of all the others.

Lehena lowered her eyes. Her voice became small and nearly empty. It would take too long.

Doesn’t matter, Sina said. I’m here, now.

Lehena’s lips turned into a sad smile. She closed her eyes and nodded. When I’m ready, she said, wiping her eyes. She turned so that she sat facing Sina. But why are you here? I thought you were out on patrol today.

I am, Sina sighed. Well, I will be. I needed some rest.

It’s not even noon, Lehena said with an amused smile. Do they even let you sleep?

Sina let out a breath of air. Sometimes. If they’re feeling generous…I’m to lead a raid on Magai’s den soon.

Lehena’s brow rose in surprise. You found those starring bastards, then?

Sina nodded. No one else knows.

Why not go at night? Lehena asked. Catch them with their trousers down?

Because someone told Dematrusi, Sina said, rolling her eyes.

Lehena smiled. Well, she said, climbing to her feet, Good luck. I’d better report to Warden Gottlin before he expels me.

Sina stood up, too. Won’t happen, she said with a smile.

Lehena pulled her into an embrace. Thank you, Sina, she said.

Frowning, Sina said, For what?

For listening.

Sina cocked an eyebrow at her. There wasn’t much to listen to.

Lehena met Sina’s eyes and became serious. When you go out there, she motioned to Brucove, just remember that you’re changing the world by not changing who you are inside.

Sina gazed into Lehena’s eyes as the effect of her words settled inside her. She nodded, and they parted ways.

On her way to the barracks, Sina thought on Lehena’s words and wondered if her friend saw something that Sina herself couldn’t quite see yet.

Sina strode at the head of a line of veteran soldiers. Lehena had been right. They should have raided under cover of darkness. Now, everyone within a dozen blocks knew they were coming.

She’d wanted to run, but the men under her command didn’t, and nothing she said could sway them. The air around them burned them in the midday sun—she didn’t want to run either. But now, they were forced to strut before a gawking crowd who had no idea what was happening. But their Boon armor kept them cool despite the heat. Otherwise, they’d boil. Still, it was hotter than she would have liked, and she worried that Magai and his ilk would have fled by the time they arrived.

People emptied the streets, and cautious eyes peered at them from the shadows behind the window curtains. Sina tried to ignore them and felt ridiculous walking through the streets—all because the Starward wanted immediate results.

Sina turned a corner and found herself in a district she had not visited in years. Rarely did she think of it because there was nothing there. Only the impoverished and their crimes and shadows, things Sina did not inherently fear. But as she walked into those streets, Sina could only feel a heaviness in her gut that she could not understand at first.

The street where Magai and his den hid was the perfect street to hide a den of thieves and murderers—because it looked like every other street in Brucove. The houses had been built into each other over time using whatever was available—mud, bricks, wood, rocks. Holes with bottoms Sina could not discern peppered the hot, dirt street. Some were covered with rocks, and others weren’t. As Sina glanced around, she tried to think of a purpose for those holes. They must’ve been dug years ago, and some appeared newer than others.

When people saw them, they ran away, disappearing into their homes or into the shadows. Sina fixed her eyes on the large hut where Magai had been spotted with his followers. It was hard to ignore—large, dark, and casting a shadow over all other homes on the street. Reaching out, she felt the merna streams in the ground. They greeted her with an intuitive understanding of the surrounding area—detected heartbeats and movement. The large hut was filled with people.

Sina called a halt to the line of soldiers. She drew her swords and siphoned enough merna from the ground to fill the blades. Ready, she glanced at the others. Spread out and find Magai. Kill anyone who resists.

Prisoners? The soldier, Netias, asked.

Only if they surrender. Go!

The soldiers spread in all directions, and Sina felt the streams tremble as they drew their own portions of merna into their bodies, careful not to siphon merna from their comrades. Sina strode up to the front entrance, which was nothing more than a hole covered by a tattered drape. Using the blade of her sword, she pushed the drape aside and strode into the gloom beyond.

Using the merna in her swords, she shined enough light to help her eyes adjust to the darkness.

She stopped, holding her blades out to cast more light into the darkness. A large room opened up before her. Inside, several women sat on the floor with their children sitting in their laps or lying on the ground beside them. The children were naked, and most women were giving suck to newborns. They each stared up at Sina with gray, lifeless eyes, as if they didn’t care if she killed them.

Soldiers found their way into that room from the rear. Netias was the first to rejoin Sina.

We’re searching upstairs and down, he said to her in a low voice. But it looks like the men left in a hurry.

Sina barely listened to him. She stared at a young girl no older than fifteen years, trying to give suck to a newborn with breasts that weren’t fully developed yet. She wasn’t wearing any clothes and only had a blanket around her midsection. She wasn’t the only one. They each cared for children in one way or another.

I know what you’re going to say, Netias said.

Sina didn’t look at him. Do you?

She turned and strode out of the room, back into the stifling sunlight. She hurried over to one of the holes that had been dug in the street and crouched down next to it. Leaning over, she peered into the darkness before her nostrils were assaulted by a scent she knew all too well.

Oh, gods…

Gasping, Sina turned away and squeezed her eyes shut. Now she understood what those holes were dug for.

She stood and gazed up the street. Netias knelt down, peered into the hole, then recoiled in the same way.

"Stars!"

This district needs to be reclaimed, Sina said.

Netias stared at her. "Are you starring mad? That—that would take…"

Months, perhaps years, Sina said, nodding, and lots of effort. This will be my official recommendation to the Wardens. This is no place for our people to live.

Netias stared at her. If I were you, I would think before you make that decision for all of us, he said. All we found was a house with women and children. Nothing more.

Sina took a step toward him and returned his stare with a fiery frown. I won’t hide the truth, Netias, she said, and neither will you. That’s an order.

He returned her words with a disparaging smile. No, no, no, he said, adjusting his stance. He spoke with his hands as if she were not intelligent enough to understand his words by themselves. This is what will happen. If you invoke a reclamation on this district, Warden Balect will discover that Sina, a woman, let her emotions get the best of her. ‘Typical,’ he’d say. ‘Typical that a woman would get emotional over a bunch of naked whores and children.’

Sina stiffened and glared at him. Other soldiers were crowding around them, having found no one from Magai’s following.

You’re not going to make us do this, Netias continued, holding her glare with confidence. We didn’t see anything here worth worrying about. We’ll go back now, and you can report your failure to the Starward himself.

Right then, Sina considered punching Netias to put him back in his place. She’d been given command, after all. He bowed to her wishes, not the other way around.

Her fists and teeth were clenched. But she knew if she lashed out now, it would only prove Netias’ point—that she was a woman prone to emotional outbursts, perhaps unfit to lead. Striking him wouldn’t do these women and children any good either. She would need to think of another way to get this district reclaimed—a way that couldn’t be traced back to her…

Another soldier named Baltin Hayd approached them. Warrior Sina is right to want to help, he said, causing Netias to turn on him, but he kept his cool and nodded to Sina. But perhaps Reclamation isn’t the answer. We’ll find another way to help them.

Why do you say that? Sina asked, trying to keep her temper.

Baltin glanced down the street. Because of the nature of this district and the crime and corruption that exists—a mishandled reclamation could make things worse. There is precedent for this…other districts in the past have been helped through other means. Let’s not make a scene. Not here, of all places.

Sina released the tension in her shoulders. By the Mernar-Gods…he’s right.

Especially if a majority of the soldiers were unwilling, a bungled reclamation could only make things worse—and she knew what historical event he was referring to. Terid District in the north had once collapsed under the poverty and corruption—worse, even, than this. The military had stormed in to reclaim it, resulting in a bloody massacre. It would take another dozen years to save Terid District, but it would never recover. Not fully.

Despite her disappointment, Sina let go of most of her anger. She glanced at the others. Line up! she shouted. Let’s move out.

Sina remained stone-faced as she turned her back on those people and returned to the Enclave, but she didn’t enter. Instead, she sought solace in the shade of a tree near the training field. She couldn’t get the face of that young girl out of her mind.

A voice called out to her, interrupting her thoughts. She lifted her head and saw Lehena running toward her, a grim frown on her lips.

Meet me in the grove in an hour, Lehena said as she rushed by.

Sina tried to form a response, but Lehena turned and sprinted away toward the Enclave building.

1

Second Embrace

SINA | PRESENT DAY

He saw into infinity and knew the mysteries and secrets of the universe.

The Sun Maker

Unknown

Translated by Master Archivist Kenderen

Second day of Jenian, 593 Post-Ruin

When Sina requested outside time off the starboard bow of the Bladeship Ymir , she’d never floated alone in space before. It was an experience she knew she would never forget.

Since joining the Dominion, she’d heard of the practice many times but hadn’t really understood it until a physician finally explained it. Then she realized why the Vine would have never permitted outside time in the first place. For one thing, the Vine didn’t care about the mental states of its soldiers. Their only outlets were the battlefields.

The Dominion was the only military organization that cared enough to allow at least a hundred physicians to staff each bladeship. Many specialized in physical wounds, but many more focused on treating the minds of broken soldiers who’d seen too much death. Sina wished she’d had outside time years before.

She wore a suit with a visor that she could flip up or down, creating absolute darkness. Only a thin umbilical cord tethered her to the Bladeship Ymir. Such an experience could either be terrifying and panic-inducing or relaxing and therapeutic. When Sina leapt off the ledge of the docking bay and floated away, she discovered that for her, it was the latter. Rarely did she get to float in 0 G. It felt like letting go of all her worries and stress while at the same time allowing her time to focus on her thoughts.

Deprived of all sensory input, Sina closed her eyes and allowed the peace to wash over her.

It had been a difficult two and a half years.

One of the hardest moments of her life had been parting with her sword. Since the Dominion didn’t allow recruits to bring in outside weaponry, let alone a blade, she’d had to check it in before joining with the knowledge that it would be stored away in a protected armory aboard the Ymir.

She’d also parted with Aradoneh and Trin, determined to forge her own path. Still, it felt like she hadn’t. Not really.

But the Vine stunk up the universe with its presence, still controlled hundreds of systems in hundreds of galaxies—all connected by their instantaneous dilation drives. If the Vine could fold space, they could control most of the known universe. The Dominion would control the remaining parts.

The Vine was still looking for her. In effect, it had forced Sina to desperation—and from that desperation, she’d elected to join the Vine’s strongest Enemy. At least Sina felt safe with the Dominion.

How long had it been since she’d felt safe?

She’d gone under the name of Sina Trisan to retain some secrecy, but she’d also spent hours rationalizing her actions as if she were accusing herself of some crime against herself. It was not a decision she made lightly. Joining another military was the last thing she’d wanted—and it felt too much like becoming Wrath again. She was lucky that the woman who commanded the Ymir, Rear-Admiral Athene Cammius, didn’t care to take much notice of her. Sina had maneuvered herself as an Electronic Countermeasures Officer—also called an Echo Office—aboard bloodships. She was in reserve, called into action only for the direst of circumstances. They’d come close to sending her into some skirmishes with the Vine, but she hadn’t yet flown into battle. All around her thrived a comfortable niche that balanced safety and resistance.

She only hated her mundane duties. Her Cadet rank afforded her zero authority and plenty of anonymity. As such, she cleaned latrines and the mess hall and generally made sure her superior officers could see their reflections in the walls and floors of her assigned levels. But as mind-numbing as her duties were, she couldn’t complain much—and when she did, she could only remind herself that working for the Dominion was much better than working for the Vine. Or Tyranny.

She would reunite with her sword again. One day.

Another fortuitous facet of her situation involved the Dominion officers’ attitudes toward female officers—although Sina had heard the Vine’s interim Magnate and Admiral of the Fleet, Rhians Nand, was a woman as well. It made no sense to her. Still, far more female soldiers served in the Dominion than in the Vine. At least aboard the Ymir.

Sina had only seen Athene Cammius twice in the two years she’d served on the admiral’s bladeship. She never smiled and never deigned to speak to anyone outside her circle of commanders and colonels. Sina had once been assigned to clean the CIC during sleeping hours. Cammius remained behind with a small retinue of soldiers who watched Sina’s every move. As far as Sina could tell, the Rear-Admiral was studying seemingly random maps far into the night. She never once looked at Sina or acknowledged her existence.

The second time, Sina had been cleaning a hallway on one of the middle decks when suddenly she heard the cry, "Admiral on deck!"

Stopping what she was doing and holding some insignificant mop in her hand, Sina turned and saluted as the Admiral stormed down the hall, followed by a host of senior officers who regarded Sina with cold apathy. Cammius, however, met Sina’s eyes for the first time.

Keep up the good work, Cadet, she said without stopping.

Sir! Sina had said in response.

Then, when the rabble of senior officers was gone, Sina was forced to clean up where they’d trodden once more.

Sina shook her head at the memory. How long would she remain there? When the Vine fell—and they would fall—would she remain an officer, working her way up through the ranks until she was the equivalent of a Warrior once again? The thought made her uncomfortable, and yet what else could she do? She was a killer, after all. Ever since she’d been a child, all she’d wanted was the rank of Warrior.

And she’d gotten it.

The Vine invasion on Wold had proved that she wasn’t meant for anything else.

And yet two and a half years of introspection had gotten her nowhere. If she didn’t do something, she’d get herself stuck in another military career that led nowhere. That’s why she’d decided to request outside time. She needed time to think when she wasn’t using her hands to polish another mirror or sweep another hall.

In a few months, they would grant her furlough. Sina had no idea what she would do or where she would go. She’d overheard the other cadets in her unit saying the Ymir would most likely dock at Newearth, and Sina had never been there but had heard it was a desolate planet unsuitable for life. Now, the others were saying they’d get to see their families there.

Understanding would come in time. For now, she would sweep and clean the decks and keep herself safe from the Vine.

Sina opened her eyes and took in the vast darkness before her. She flipped up the blinder and looked out into starry space. Something about all of this felt familiar as if she were looking up into the sky at night on Wold, beholding only a small part of this infinite and empty universe. Only it wasn’t empty. Even though she couldn’t access it, merna was everywhere, filling the space between the stars.

The void wasn’t a void at all. It was filled with power.

If only she could access it, siphon it…Cazska had done it, so why not her? Where else would she find a better place than floating in the middle of space itself?

Sina closed her eyes again and focused her awareness first on herself and then on the universe around her. At first, there was nothing to grasp. On a planet, she could focus on the gravity and its pull on her body. She could feel her relationship to the world around her. But such was not the case out here. Most of the universe was naturally hostile toward humans. It didn’t offer the loving protectiveness of an atmosphere or magnetosphere. No amount of merna could save her from the cold and callous vacuum.

She tried anyway. There was little else she could do in that suit until the engineers reeled her back in.

The merna in 0 G felt less solid than planetside merna, which stood to reason—though how gravity affected merna was a question for the scientists. Even if it was more scattered, it shouldn’t have mattered. Merna was merna.

And yet it did matter. Grasping onto merna in 0 G felt like trying to hold on to the air with her hands. She had no leverage, nothing to seize, and most importantly, no indication that merna was there at all. Planetside, merna thrummed like a heartbeat. Out here in the middle of space, it felt dead or empty.

Still, she persisted.

Sina remembered her first Embrace and the lessons she’d learned from it. Merna wasn’t something she could technically control. Somehow, the Embrace allowed her to have the control that really wasn’t hers, like a partnership. At the same time, she couldn’t prove it. Merna had never been known to deny its power to anyone. Therefore, the relationship felt one-sided. But Sina couldn’t see it that way. The same principle should work anywhere in the universe.

So Sina extended her awareness outward, away from herself, and into the universe like a presented offering. When that didn’t work, she turned her attention to the Ymir with one final idea in mind. Humans made use of merna with their technology and didn’t even know it. There were two reasons Sina couldn’t draw merna from the bladeship. First, it would cause catastrophic failure aboard the ship, causing a cascade that would kill everyone aboard. Second, the power was being used up as fast as it was siphoned. Trying to take merna from the Ymir would cut her into pieces.

No, her idea was not to take from the Ymir but from the merna that would surround the ship. It might intensify there more than anywhere else.

Reaching out, the merna felt like sand falling between her fingers. She drew in a deep breath and felt a short-lived brightness fill her mind, then darkness. Trying again, she drew a deep breath and felt the light grow brighter and brighter within her.

That’s when she finally understood.

Merna is air, she said, but even as the words came out, she knew it wasn’t a perfect metaphor. Merna, to her, had always been like water or blood.

The Lifeblood of the Universe.

Instead of reaching out and grappling with the merna with her awareness, Sina imagined she was a pair of lungs that breathed merna into her body. The result startled her.

The same brightness from earlier glowed to the magnitude of a sun within her. Flames hotter than any fire lapped at her and spread out from the conflagration in her mind. It was nothing like the feeling of euphoria in her first Embrace, and yet it was somehow still an Embrace.

But if that were true, why did she feel like she had just turned on a lantern in the middle of the night? Had she just outed herself as a merna-wielder?

Much like the Vine, the Dominion were aware of merna-wielders and didn’t trust them. They’d heard of Hana and everything she’d done on Eos and then on the Arcship. Most importantly, they’d heard about what happened to the Vine fleet on Wold. Sina’s homeworld had become mythologized as a place of death and magic.

Sina stopped trying to reach for the merna, though she was certain she now had the ability to siphon it from the space around her if she wanted. This second Embrace had seen to that.

She turned on her comms. "This is Cadet Sina Trisan to docking bay twelve, requesting permission to return to the Ymir. I’m done out here."

No one replied, but the umbilical tugged on her and began reeling her back to the docking bay. She watched as she drew closer to the massive bladeship. Someone stood on the lip of the docking bay and caught her when she drew close enough and helped her stand while the grave cells in the floor caught her.

Sina couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he was a junior lieutenant on docking duty.

Thank you, Sina said as they both walked back into the bay.

You’re welcome, he said through the comm. You have some friends waiting for you.

Sina took off her helmet and watched two Dominion soldiers approaching her from a cuboid at the engineer’s station.

Cadet Sina Trisan, the one on her left said. You are to come with us immediately.

Sina glanced between them. Am I under arrest?

Only if you keep asking stupid questions, the other said.

It’s illegal to ask questions now? Sina said, glaring back at them.

The lieutenant behind her leaned in. Pick your fights, Sina, he said. Just go with them. They’re not arresting you here.

With the lieutenant’s help, Sina removed the rest of her suit. He said he would take care of it for her, and she thanked him. Then, with one soldier leading and one soldier following, they escorted Sina from the docking bay.

2

We, the Enlightened

JIRO

In his youth, in the days before his ascension, Aindr lived in the land of Akand, to the east, bordering upon the sea.

The Sun Maker

Unknown

Translated by Master Archivist Kenderen

Third day of Jenian, 593 Post-Ruin

Jiro fell through a lavender sky toward landfall on Feldwest’s northern supercontinent, Gagel. From his height, he could see the tracts of farmland, each lorded over by massive wind-citadels that spiked into the sky.

These citadels were each cut from the same design. The outer hulls were enormous mirrors that caught the sunlight, and the pentagonal foundations stretched several kilometers wide at the base. Like a pyramid, the body of the citadel truncated the higher it climbed into the sky. Thousands of workers called these structures home—perhaps even tens of thousands. Lines of skycars sped between each wind-citadel, transporting everything from food to parts to people.

The people of Feldwest liked to think the Vine didn’t notice them.

Jiro had studied this planet and others like it in this remote galaxy back when he’d convinced himself he was human. The Vine had made the mistake of leaving these Civilizations unwatched for so long. They supposedly claimed independence, these backwater worlds—Feldwest, Brimclif, Fyrthad, Drengoth, Suwold, and Benor. Regardless, the Vine watched them all very closely. Eventually, the Magnate would reassert authority here.

Jiro fell close enough to one wind-citadel to see his reflection in the mirrors. He looked into the structure and admired it for what it was—a self-sustaining city that supplied power to the hinterlands. A magnificent feat of human engineering and science. Thousands of them lay scattered across the continent of green farmland, which provided food to the rest of the world. Gagle was a breadbasket, supplying the needs of its colonies spread among its binary system of seven planets. Jiro couldn’t think of a more prosperous world than Feldwest.

He slowed his descent and shifted his attention to why he’d come in the first place. As much as he admired what the humans had done here, he couldn’t stay long. Something in