A cold wave of dread washed through Adalard at the memory, and he snapped back to the present when several crew members entered the room. Their laughter died when they saw him, and they bowed their heads in respect. He rose to his feet, nodded to them in return, and exited the training room.
For seven years he had followed Hamade from one end of the star system and back again. Each moment was engraved in his memory because it meant another second he was away from Samara. In the end, he had come full circle—trying to protect Samara from Hamade.
“Adalard, we will be in position on the dark side of the planet’s moon in two hours,” Jaguin informed him.
“I’ll be ready,” he replied.
Jaguin’s low laugh echoed through the communicator. “You may be, but is the planet ready for Barrack and Broga
