
by Mary A. Geoffrey
My name is Althea Costas Rosevelt. The alliance — deplorable as they are — calls me 'The Conductor'. I, myself, prefer to be known as strategist, although the word "criminal mastermind" has a nice ring to it. They caught me. They threw me into Hybrasil, a fortress from which no prisoner returned. Yet, they underestimated my brother — a man I hadn't seen in eleven years, who now led a private military organization and apparently never stopped looking for me. I never thought he would be the one to rescue me. Nonetheless, it was a welcome variable. The reunion wasn't what I expected. There was more nagging than tears, more insults than grand speeches, and an infuriating insistence that I attended an elite military academy rather than continue my work dismantling the regime that destroyed my adoptive family. But to my surprise, the academy wasn't a detour. It was a battlefield in miniature, filled with future to six military organizations, old enemies wearing new faces, and a childhood friend whose smile I'd never quite trusted, pushed onto me as a partner by my ever annoying brother — though I suspected that surveillance was his real assignment. Somewhere in this place, there might be answers about the family I lost. Somewhere out there, the alliance was still hunting me. I spent years fighting alone. I wasn't sure I knew how to stop. But I would try, for the sake of my older brother, and for them — my second family, whom I believed to still be fighting somewhere, awaiting my arrival.
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