The Defective Wife's Lethal Comeback

Jolie pulled the stolen hover-shuttle into the shadows beneath an abandoned mag-lev overpass. The dashboard lights cast a sickly green glow over her face as she rapidly typed Keanu Robertson's name into the stolen communicator.

The holographic screen flooded with red warning flags. Shadow Sector top-tier assassin. Callsign: Phantom. Extreme aversion to females. Suspected of murdering three previous mandated partners.

Jolie rubbed her temples, a sharp headache pulsing behind her eyes. "The Commonwealth isn't giving me a husband," she muttered bitterly. "They're handing me a death warrant."

Staying in the Core Worlds was suicide. Catina would keep trying to kill her, the military General she just robbed would hunt her down, and now a psychotic assassin was legally bound to find her.

She needed to vanish.

Jolie plugged Aloys's untraceable credit cards into the shuttle's terminal. Using the dark web routing protocols she had learned from the original Jolie's memories, she rapidly laundered the funds, scattering the millions of credits across a dozen encrypted offshore accounts.

Next, she accessed a high-end black market broker. For a premium fee, she purchased a flawless, forged identity matrix. Her new name was simply "Jo."

She pulled up the galactic map. She needed a place far from the military, far from the Shadow Sector, and perfect for her plant-based abilities. Her finger tapped on a dusty, green-and-brown planet on the very edge of the Commonwealth's reach.

Agri-World Prime.

She booked a one-way ticket in the cargo hold of an anonymous freighter leaving in exactly three hours.

While Jolie plotted her escape, the sun began to rise over the Sovereign Grand Hotel.

In the ruined presidential suite, Aloys Patterson's eyes snapped open.

The feral madness had receded, leaving behind a cold, crystalline rage. He realized instantly that he was bound to the wall. He looked down. His military uniform was shredded, his spatial ring was gone, and his secure communicator had been stripped from his wrist.

He had been robbed. By a female.

A terrifying surge of blue lightning erupted from his core. The sheer concussive force of his Thunder-attribute power blasted the dead, withered vines into fine ash.

Aloys dropped to the floor, his boots crunching on the ruined marble. His face was a mask of pure, murderous intent. He strode to the central console and punched the screen to bring up the security feeds.

Static. The logs were wiped clean.

Aloys let out a dark, humorless laugh that held no warmth. "Good. Very good. You have a death wish."

He tapped a secondary, sub-dermal comms unit behind his ear, connecting directly to his adjutant. "Issue an S-rank galactic bounty. I want every spaceport locked down. Find me a high-level Flora-Affinity user. I want them brought to me alive."

Miles away, Jolie walked through the chaotic, crowded terminal of the lower-city spaceport. She wore an oversized hoodie, her face hidden deep within the shadows of the fabric.

Above her, the massive holographic departure boards flickered. The flight times vanished, replaced by a glaring red S-rank military bounty. There was no picture, only a description: Wanted. High-level Flora-Affinity user. Armed and extremely dangerous.

Jolie pulled her hood down a fraction of an inch tighter. She kept her head down and her pace steady, walking right beneath the glaring red letters toward Cargo Bay D.

She swiped her forged ID card at the automated scanner. The light blinked green.

Jolie stepped into the dark, oil-stained belly of the interstellar freighter. She found a corner behind a stack of metal crates, sat down on the cold floor, and crossed her arms. She closed her eyes as the ship's massive engines roared to life, vibrating through her bones.

Two days later, the ship broke through the atmosphere of Agri-World Prime.

Jolie walked down the loading ramp. The air was thick, hot, and smelled heavily of turned soil and cheap fertilizer. It was a far cry from the sterile, perfumed air of the Core Worlds.

She took a deep breath. Her Arborgenesis power hummed happily in her veins, resonating with the raw, untamed nature of the planet.

Jolie walked to a rusted information kiosk on the edge of the spaceport. She pulled up the local land registry. Thousands of acres of barren, failed farmland were listed for pennies.

Her eyes locked onto a remote, isolated patch of dirt on the edge of a dead zone. Plot 313.

A slow, ambitious smile spread across her face. She turned her back on the spaceport and headed straight for the local Land Management Bureau.