Graveyard of Empires

When morning came, Quinton prepared them a meal of vitamin-enriched oatmeal and a loaf of stale bread. Vivian found the food distasteful, but once again Traq devoured his—and her—helping like a starving child.

Abdullah strode through the empty Command Deck, heart thumping in his chest. His stomach was doing flips and his legs felt like rubber; all he wanted to do was lie down.

Wade leaned against the cool metal railing, watching stars twinkle outside the deck’s viewport. He was on the bridge of the Capital Class Warship named Denigen’s Fist. Below the stars, he could see Axis stretching into the distance.

The blocky merchant class spaceship Cudgel lowered slowly to the surface of the barren brown planet, landing with an audible plop that made Vivian wince.

“What we waitin’ for?” “The new Captain,” Abdullah replied quietly, waving his hand for his companion to lower his voice. “She’s supposed to arrive today and assume command of the Fist.”

Traq was terrified. When the woman—Vivian Drowel—had shown up at the door, she’d had a short conversation with Rica, and then after a tearful and quick goodbye, she’d taken Traq by the hand and led him away from his home. His mother packed him a bag and told him she loved him.

Wade stood outside the little gray house belonging to Traq and his mother, letting his friend think in silence. It was painful for him. He was talkative by nature, willing to ramble on and on about anything and everything.

Kristi Grove adjusted the rigid fabric against her hip with a growl. Won’t this elevator move any faster? She picked at one of the blue straps digging into her skin, deciding that as soon as this wretched party was over she would burn it.

“Come on!” Eddie Boleman shouted, pumping his palm against the metal bench press. “You got this! Come on!”