Reluctant as I was to admit it, I did understand. Interplanetary tensions had been on the rise for a long time. The growing extremism on Gaia, Deva increasing prices on their exports, Pax shipping weapons to Titan despite criticism from the rest of the planets, Nibiru’s heated condemnation of Primus technology… Yet I never imagined it could come to war, as Momma was hinting at. But if she was right, if it did come to all-out warfare, Titan’s military expertise and wealth of raw materials would suddenly make them one of the most powerful planets in the system. Having contacts here would be invaluable.

But would it be worth me going to war? Worth the very likely loss of my life?

“Think of your family,” Momma said. “Think of your siblings.”

I already was. Three years without them by my side. But I forced myself to think further. If I refused, turned against Momma, I believed my siblings would follow me. But follow me where? There was no place for them on Titan. No hope for a better future for all of us. I thought of all those whispered conversations with Scorpia, all those dreams we had built up, and my chest ached.

“Okay, Momma,” I whispered. “I understand.”

“That’s my boy,” she said, and released me. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second before opening them again. When she spoke, her voice was a fierce whisper, too quiet for anyone to overhear. “Just remember, you’ll never be one of them. Don’t buy into the propaganda bullshit.” She pulled me into a hug, the only one I could ever remember getting from her. “You’re a Kaiser, not a Titan. Don’t forget that.”

And I never could.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Titan

Scorpia

We’ve got this, right, baby?” I say aloud, running one last check on Fortuna before we land on Titan. One of my legs jumps, the heel of my boot tap-tapping on the floor. I trail the tips of my fingers along levers and screens, making mental check marks. All my indicators look good, all my systems are running clean. She’s as ready as she’s gonna be, and so am I. This is one landing worth staying sober for. “You and me, Fortuna. You and me.”

The moment we hit atmosphere, my nerves dissipate into a rush of adrenaline that makes me feel like I’m floating. I’m barely aware of my hands moving over the control board or my eyes roving the screens; instead the incoming information merges with my own thoughts, which flow seamlessly into responses from the ship, as if Fortuna is an extension of my body, another limb.

Heavy winds coming in at forty-five degrees. Slow vertical descent until—there. Winds pummel the ship, making her groan and shake around me, but I grit my teeth and ignore it. Fortuna can handle a little storm, I know she can.