Master of the Galaxy by Tasha Temple

CHAPTER
1
    I am Miya. I am a woman of immense power,
vast education and formidable leadership. I possess a great
intellect, I am enlightened and I am beautiful, or so I have been
told. This is my story. At least part of my story. Perhaps it is
only the beginning.
    My life began as one of privilege. I, of
course, am of the line of Jiikorians. We are all strong, both men
and women, although it is the women among us who tend to have the
greatest successes. There is much half-blood in the Jiikorian line,
dilution from special-purpose breeding, adding to our collective
knowledge. Although there is no shame in this, I have no such
taint. My blood is pure. I am a descendant of the original
Archetypes.
    As you might suspect, I attended only the
best schools and was educated on nine different planets: Ortan,
N’n, Srinor, A’akan, Balinth, Vortoth, Ly-ui, Wynth and of course,
my home planet, Yar. Each planet had something different to offer
me. On some I pursued intense academic studies, on others I learned
the arts of warfare, still others negotiation and compromise. After
my education was complete, I had become the consummate ruler,
warrior, envoy, diplomat. And I was highly sought after. Never
doubt that.
    My life continued as it should until my one
hundred and thirty-ninth year. If you do not know, on Yar, we live
for nearly one thousand years. So I should say I was past
adolescence – I felt wise – but still young when I encountered
Him.
    I did not intend to. I had no use for Him or
any of his kind. It was an accident, purely an accident, a chance
meeting. So I told myself. So I tell myself still.
    It all started on an asteroid if you would
believe that. A small outpost known as Karatar. Why I, Miya, of the
pureblood Jiikorian line, was on a mere asteroid to negotiate a
treaty is an entirely different story. Suffice to say, it was for
legitimate reasons.
    * * * * *
    “You have been quarreling far too long,” I
said, with command, to the tribal leader of the Tryton people who
controlled the asteroid system, including Karatar.
    “And you,” I said, turning to the leader of
the D’cren and tossing my coiled red hair confidently over my
shoulders. “You seek the raw materials of Tryton, but are not
willing to offer full price, instead claiming there to be
imperfections which manifest themselves only after arrival on your
planet. These ‘problems’ are caused by your own poor stasis during
shipping.”
    The D’cren leader bowed his head at this for
he knew it to be true. I have the way of my people. I see things
for their truth and it is up to the person whose secrets are
revealed to accept my decree or not. But knowing it is I who has
revealed it, they are generally loathe to deny it, for they know
others will believe what I say.
    “But you have together been deceived,” I
said and both rulers looked at me with surprise.
    I stared at the head of the D’cren. “It is
your own men who sabotage the shipments to guarantee the security
of their employ. A simple shipment of pure Tryton grade quality
would satisfy the needs of the D’cren people for five months or
longer. But inferior shipments require repeated trips to the
Karatar asteroid belt and generate more earnings for the crew.”
    “And more,” I said, as I considered the
Tryton chieftain. “Your men are not blameless. They are bribed by
the D’cren workers to turn a blind eye to the storage of the
materials when loaded aboard D’cren ships. They accept such bribes,
knowing Tryton will not receive a fair price, knowing it fosters
discontent between your planets.”
    “You,” I said, turning once more to the
D’cren leader. “You will enter into a collaborative arrangement
with Tryton. Your men will be paid based only on the quality of the
shipment.”
    “As will your men,” I spoke to the Kartan
chieftain, “so that there is no incentive to sabotage their
counterparts.”
    “Also,” I continued, “since your planets are
interdependent on trade, you