Sam later learned she was in a medically induced coma for the rest of the trip back. The next time she woke up, the room was larger, her bed more spacious. And there was a window. Outside, a Tundran snowstorm raged, green lightning flashing beyond the swirl of snow as it hammered against the glass. She lay alone in bed, looking out towards the storm.

  “Do you need anything?” A voice asked a while later.

  Sam turned with a start. Why had she been so certain she was alone? Robert Nagar was sitting next to her bedside in the empty room, his face perfectly blank, his body so still it was no wonder she thought the room was empty.

  “Why are you here?” Sam asked her boss. Even Dirk the jerk was better than this. Who the hell wanted to wake up in a hospital room with their boss by their bedside?

  “Orders.” Robert said. He didn’t sound especially thrilled. But then, Robert never did.

  “From who?” Sam asked. It was hard for her to think of Robert getting orders. Robert didn’t take orders, he gave them.

  “From Jim.”

  Sam tried to sit up, failed. “Is it done?” She asked.

  “They’re voting now.

  “Right now?”

  “As we speak.” Robert nodded.

  “I didn’t get to vote.”

  “You had your reasons.” Robert allowed.

  “If the vote’s not done yet, why are you taking orders from him?” Sam asked.

  “Foresight.”

  “Leave.” Sam said shortly, turning back towards the window. Once again, the room filled with silence. Is he even breathing? Sam couldn’t help wondering. Finally, reluctantly, she turned back around. Robert was still there. “Does he know?” She asked.

  “About what?”

  “About my condition, Robert. Does he know?”

  “He has your full medical file.”

  “So he knows.”

  Robert cocked his head slightly. “Is there some specific condition you’re referring to?” He asked.

  “Get. Out.”

  Robert spread out his hands, as if signaling his helplessness in the face of orders, and remained sitting in his chair.

  “Since when do you even care about orders?” Sam asked.

  Robert considered the question. “In this instance, the benefit of obeying the order seems to outweigh the costs.”

  “I could change that calculation for you.” Sam said sharply.

  “I’m not sure that you could.” Robert replied.

  “This is all your fault.” Sam said, forcing herself to sit up. “All of it. Everything. Your fault. I bet Jim kills you.” She added bitterly.

  Robert cocked his head in the other direction, as if studying her from a different angle would help him solve the mystery that was Samantha. “I’m not following your reasoning, Sam.” He said in his typical hollow, calm voice. “In what way am I at fault?”

  “You shouldn’t have let me go!” Sam shouted. “You should have listened to Jim! And now you’re listening? What a fucking hypocrite you are, Robert. He told you not to let me go. Did you listen then?”

  “It was your decision to go.” Robert pointed out. “I honored your choice.”

  “You should have stopped me!!!” Sam shouted, not caring if the hospital staff overheard her. “It was a stupid mission and there was every chance I would have died. The man was old. Likely dying of cancer. It wasn’t worth my life. It wasn’t worth… it wasn’t worth what I lost. But you got what you wanted out of it, didn’t you, Robert? It wasn’t just me that wanted the Sarayan president dead, it was you. You didn’t ignore Jim’s orders because of any promises you made, what bullshit. You did it because you wanted your revenge as much as I did.”

  “The population of Tundra, is very small.” Robert said.

  “What?” Sam asked in confusion.

  “Let me finish.” He held up his hand. “The population of Tundra, is very small. Less than twenty million people total. By old earth standards, we’re the size of a large city, not a country. Word, gets around. The Tundran Secret Service keeps their word. When you gave us your terms for joining up, we agreed to your terms. A promise was made. I always intended to keep it. Truth, is important.”

  “You wanted it.” Sam said, ignoring his words. “You wanted him dead. The destruction of Dragon City broke you. Worse than any of us. I don’t know who you lost, but I know it broke you. You wanted him dead more than anyone.

  “Yes.” Robert acknowledged. “I wanted him dead. Congratulations, Sam. You accomplished what no one else could. You’ve changed history.”

  A cold comfort, Samantha thought. “And what about my history?” She asked. “I can’t have children. I will never get Jim back. I lost everything because of your stupid obsession. Are you happy now? You got what you wanted. Just get the hell out.”

  They sat in silence, as the snow beat against the window. The light of the dim Tundran sun continued its slow crawl across the sky. “Jim was right.” Sam said finally, into the silence. “It was petty. It was petty of both of us to go after a dying old man and I wish I had never done it. Who the hell cares?”

  “I care.” Robert said. “Choices, are important. And choices, must have consequences. President Thornhill chose to attack Tundra. He chose to attack civilian targets. His choices, led to the deaths of millions. Choices must have consequences.” Robert repeated. “And those consequences should not fall on the innocent while those in power remain untouched. President Thornhill made his choice. It is he who must bear the consequences. And I would not have allowed him to die peacefully in his bed. You made history, Sam. And it will be remembered. Here, in this solar system, when a leader makes a choice, they pay for it. Personally. It is our way.”

  “Fuck you, Robert.” Sam said expressively.

  Robert shrugged.

  “You’re really not leaving?”

  “No.”

  “Did he say anything about me?” Sam asked. She couldn’t help it.

  “Jim? He said you should not be alone.”

  Sam looked from Robert, to the window, and all around the empty, soulless hospital room. And then, for the first time in the twenty three years, since Dragon City was destroyed, she started crying.

  ---

  The next time she woke up, Jim was there, sitting by the side of her bed.

  “You came.” Sam said, blinking in the dim light. It was nighttime now, the snowstorm raging on in the darkness.

  “Of course I came.”

  “Is the vote done?”

  “Yes.” Jim smiled slightly. “It’s done.”

  “Did you give the speech?”

  “I did. I came here as soon as it was done.”

  “Oh.” Sam closed her eyes, breathing in the silence. “I’m sorry.” She finally said.

  “For what?”

  “For all of it. You were right. I should have listened. I’m sorry.”

  Jim sighed, shifting slightly in his chair. “I’m proud of what you have accomplished.” He offered.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  A concession prize, Sam thought. “Is that you speaking as the president?” She asked bitterly.

  “It is.”

  “And as Jim?”

  “As Jim…” he hesitated. “Jim has said all he had to say on the matter.”

  “Well then” Sam sat up in bed, trying to get to something close to eye level “Jim can go to hell.”

  “Don’t use up all your ammo just yet.” Jim said mildly.

  “Oh, is there more?”

  “Oh yes, there’s more.”

  “Let’s hear it then.”

  “You’re fired.”

  “I’m what?”

  “Oh yes.” Jim said with great satisfaction, savoring the moment. “That’s what I came here to tell you. You are fired from the secret service. You’re fired from the military, from the navy, from the police force…”

  “I’m not on any police force!” Sam interrupted.

  “You are preemptively fired.” Jim replied, without missing a beat. “If anyone so much as thinks about giving you a dangerous job, I will personally shoot them. No, that would be too fast. I will personally make sure they die a slow and painful death. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

  “You’re firing me.”

  “I am.”

  “I killed the president!”

  “And I’m very proud of your accomplishments.” Jim repeated dutifully.

  “But I’m still fired?”

  “Effectively immediately.”

  “What will I do?”

  “I don’t know, Sam. Get a hobby.”

  “My hobby is killing presidents.” Sam said somewhat sharply.

  “I suggest a new hobby.”

  “I’ll take it under consideration. You can go.”

  Jim opened his mouth, clearly ready to say more.

  “You can go.” Sam repeated. “Now.”

  ---

  They met at their usual spot, Robert and the giant. The giant was going by the name of Grant Pardo, playing the role of a young human physics professor at a local university. There was nothing inherently suspicious about them meeting for a conversation. But Robert’s high profile job left his every move open to scrutiny. And as always, Robert preferred to take no chances.

  They each took their own shuttle, out into the snow covered Tundran forest. Humans would not have been able to walk from one shuttle to the other in the current weather conditions, but Grant did it with relative ease, although he was annoyed to find himself covered in snow and dripping down onto floors of Robert’s shuttle. Abominable weather, he thought as he made an attempt to shake off the snow. “How have you been?” He asked, looking down at Robert.

  “As always.” Robert said dismissively. It was an old routine. Robert was always the same. Robert, was dead. Grant’s stubborn attempts to get results that were contrary to reality, were of mild interest. Robert, didn’t care.

  “And congratulations are in order.” Grant continued, unphased.

  “For what?”

  “You tell me. Which accomplishment do you value more, the death of a president or the election of a new one, of our choosing?”

  “Both.”

  “Is it enough?” Grant asked.

  “Is what enough?”

  “The death of President Thornhill, is it enough? Has Olivia been avenged? Or will there be more?”

  Robert raised an eyebrow. “Our mission objective is to preserve life, preserve resources, and observe. I don’t recall vengeance being on the list. Are you implying I’ve overstepped?”

  “Dead men don’t care about mission objectives.” Grant observed.

  “And the empire does not care about whether I’m dead, as long as I’m fulfilling the mission objective. So, if you are implying I’ve overstepped…”

  “For fuck’s sake, Robert.” Grant said with some annoyance. “The empire is seventy light years away. And as the foremost known physicist in this whole damn galaxy, I can tell you that there are no shortcuts. Not for us mere carbon based life forms.”

  “Your humility is monumental.” Robert said drily.

  “I am who I am. And I would like to know when it ends. When does the vengeance end, Robert?”

  “I am here to discuss another matter.”

  “And that is?”

  “Life, as it happens.” Robert smiled slightly. He was well aware of the going theory around his status as a dead man walking. Grant and their Sarayan compatriot Daren theorized that being dead, Robert was only capable of bringing about more death. It was a foolish theory. Death, was merely a means to an end.

  “Tell me what you need.” Grant responded immediately. Robert was, after all, his experiment and his responsibility. If Robert lived, truly lived, then Grant ’s achievement would live on for eternity. If he lived. Keeping a dead man breathing was a far lesser accomplishment.

  “We’ve discussed the need for a human ally in the solar system. The possibility of our existence becoming known is always a risk, albeit a slight one at the moment.” Robert began.

  “I thought that was Jim Hawk’s role.”

  “Jim Hawk is a start. But we must continue to think ahead.” Robert replied. Their lifespans were far longer than those of the humans. Carda’ans regularly lived for a thousand years or longer. Jim Hawk, was temporary.

  “Jim Hawk will presumably have children. The humans always do. Can’t we use one of them?” Grant asked.

  “His mate cannot have children.” Robert observed. He had read the medical report.

  “His mate? He’s not married.”

  “Nevertheless.” Robert said.

  Grant cocked his head slightly, trying to follow Robert’s somewhat convoluted reasoning. “Jim Hawk is not with anyone.” He pointed out.

  “He is. He always was.” Robert said.

  Grant waved a hand in dismissive confusion, the gesture intended for unsheathed claws he no longer had. “What do you want, Robert?” He asked.

  “Samantha Sanders can no longer have children. You can take a different woman’s egg and imprint it with her DNA, with the appropriate modifications, naturally.”

  “I don’t do biology.” Grant corrected him. “But yes, the ship certainly could.”

  “I cannot get away right now. I would like you to take care of this.”

  “I need her DNA.” Grant said.

  Robert nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a temperature controlled box. “Her blood.” He offered. It had been easy to get it from the hospital.

  “How will you explain this?” Grant asked, puzzled.

  Robert shrugged. “Humans believe what they want to believe.”

  ---

  “It is theoretically possible to harvest a mature egg from a damaged uterus.” Robert said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair by Sam’s bedside. This was theoretically true, although it had no applicability whatsoever to Samantha’s medical condition.

  “That sounds like bullshit.” Sam said immediately.

  “Are you open to trying?” Robert asked patiently.

  “Sure, I suppose.”

  “Would you like me to ask Jim? On your behalf.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “Can you record that for me to watch later?” She asked with a grin.

  Robert just looked at her.

  “Yes fine, Robert. If it makes you feel better to try, give it a shot.”

  ---

  “Domestically, you’re gold.” Robert said later that day, at the conclusion of his more detailed report to Jim Hawk. “The greatest risk I foresee is a Sarayan assassination attempt. You were elected practically on the eve of our assassination of their president. A Dragon City orphan running on a platform of vengeance against Sarya…”

  “Victory.” Jim corrected. “I ran on a platform of victory against Saraya. Not vengeance.”

  “Regardless Jim, they want you dead.”

  “Noted. Was there anything else?”

  Robert hesitated. “About Sam…”

  “Tread carefully, Robert.” Jim said. “My views on your role in sending her to Saraya have not changed.”

  “I actually wanted to speak to you on a different matter entirely. I spoke to her doctor, regarding her medical condition.”

  “She doesn’t have a medical condition.” Jim said sharply. “She’s expected to fully recover.”

  “She can’t have children.”

  “Robert.” Jim looked up. “How could this possibly concern you?”

  “I also took the initiative of speaking to another doctor.” Robert continued. One who was loyal to him. “This doctor thinks there may be a chance. It’s somewhat time sensitive. Freezing the genetic material may cause additional damage.”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “Sam has consented to trying. With you.”

  “Are you…” Jim stared at Robert. “Are you asking me to…”

  Robert held out a hand. “That’s really between you and the doctor, Jim. I can send the contact info.”

  “Fine.”

  ---

  “Where’s Samantha?” Jim asked the nurse somewhat tensely. He had come by after a long and hectic day, to find Sam’s old hospital room empty. Taking a breath, he tried to fight the fear that made his blood run cold. Always, the fear.

  “Ah, she’s… well I’ll show you.” The nurse offered, leading Jim and his guards away from Sam’s door.

  Just for a moment, Jim thought about how Sam had assassinated the Sarayan president. Another nurse, another hospital. His guards moved in closer, clearly thinking along the same lines.

  The nurse stifle a smile, noticing their reaction. They headed away from the patient’s rooms, towards the administrative wing of the hospital. “It’s this way.” The nurse said, gesturing for them to go forward. There were four guards. Robert had insisted. Jim let two of them go in ahead.

  Sam was sitting alone in a café that had long since closed. The two story atrium windows rose up over her head, illuminating her silvery blond hair in the dim light of the setting Tundran sun. The cafeteria had a better view. She looked up at the guards, unimpressed. “Good effort. I could take you both out.”

  “Ma’am.” One of the guards nodded respectfully.

  “You could take us both out but you wouldn’t get to the president.” The other one said.

  Sam smiled slightly. “Yes, but just you watch.” Her smile grew slightly more smug as Jim walked into the room. “Jumpy, aren’t we?” She asked, still bemused.

  “Give us some time.” Jim nodded to the guards before pulling up one of the empty cafeteria chairs and sitting down across from her. “What the hell are you doing? You should be in your hospital room, where the doctors can find you.” Where he could find her.

  “I killed a president, Jim.” Sam said, taking a bite of the chocolate cake someone had brought for her. “People, have respect.”

  “And I am very proud of…”

  “Oh do shut up, Jim. You fired me. Why are you here?”

  Jim shrugged. “I just am.”

  They sat together for a while, looking out at the setting sun. “Were we ever together?” Sam asked.

  “Sure. We were together.”

  “As teenagers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And after that?”

  Jim hesitated. “We were together sometimes.”

  “Do you mean like when we were actually…”

  “Yes.”

  “And when we weren’t?”

  “Those times we were not together.”

  “Ah. And in no way exclusive?”

  Jim raised an eyebrow. “You were on Saraya for years at a time.” He pointed out. “What do you want, Sam?”

  “I want you to forgive me, for us to get married, and for the baby to make it.”

  Jim sat silently for a long time. “I have to think about it.” He finally said. “And we have no control over whether the baby makes it. The whole thing was Robert’s crazy idea.”

  Samantha sat up straighter, her gray eyes suddenly laser focused. “That’s not a no.”

  “It’s not a yes.”

  “But it’s not a no. That’s actually most of the way to a yes.”

  “That's not how…”

  “Have you ever known me to give up, Jim?”

  “Oh god.” Jim said with some disgust. “I should really go.”

  “Are you coming back tomorrow?”

  “Of course I am.”

  ---

  Sam grinned, holding up the stuffed dragon toy Jim brought for her. “Mine.” She said happily, leaning back into his arms. “I can cook.” She offered a while later, curling up tighter into his arms.

  “Can you?” Jim asked dubiously.

  “Sure I can. Mostly Sarayan food. But, you know, it’s food.”

  “That sounds awfully unpatriotic.”

  “It’s food, Jim.”

  “Robert is lobbying for me to allow you to teach.”

  “What am I going to teach? Killing people?”

  “A highly valuable skill.”

  “Are you going to let me?”

  “No live ammo in the room.” Jim said firmly.

  “Jim…”

  “No. No live ammo in the room. And no knives.”

  “They’re vetted by the Tundran…”

  “No.”

  “Are you going to marry me?”

  “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “Baby’s not getting any younger.” Sam said smugly.

  ---

  They were married three months later. The baby was removed from his incubator six months after that, perfectly healthy and with no complications. His name, was James Hawk. Samantha Hawk insisted.