Chapter 60
CHAPTER SIXTY
It has only taken three days on this ship to come to a very important conclusion:
I am a fucking idiot.
“General.”
The cadet beside me is right to look concerned. A General shouldn’t startle while he’s at the helm of his ship, gods-damn me.
I shake off the shudder that tweaked my wings, ignoring their tight ache. The truth is, I loathe space travel. Everything is so cramped; the only colors are chrome and endless onyx. No room for me to stretch my wings, let alone use them. No spots of pink or purple or—
Blue.
Sofi’s eyes float through my memory, fisting the tight wad of dread at my center. I left her, I think for the millionth time. I left my—
The delusional notion always breaks off there. Because she’s not my anything.
She’s my everything.
I swear to Stelaris, if these voices in my head don’t stop mocking me, I’ll fly this whole craft into the nearest black hole. Or make the pilot do it.
“Sir?” the cadet tries again. His persistence is admirable, honestly. I’ve fully given up on trying to make myself focus, but apparently, there are others more determined than me.
“Lieutenant Koro has received a transmission?” he continues, looking at me like the madmale I’ve become. “She awaits you on the bridge.”
I sigh roughly, pushing away from the sprawling window of our Control Chamber. Another fucking transmission from the fucking Galactic Council.
I forgot how carefully they control the free space between worlds, monitoring it for any minute shifts, and checking in constantly. Even with their own forces.
Namely, us.
They’re just trying to keep smaller, less-resourced planets safe. But, Morfu’s balls, is it annoying.
Now isn’t a good time to be ripped away from Control, either.
Our scans indicate we’re coming up on the latest Drakosian cruiser to infiltrate our territory.
I’ve seen a few of them in my time, most notably on the day Zazt died.
So I’ve kept vigil at the window, knowing it’s only a matter of time until their spiky, black-chrome craft drifts into view.
By then, it will already be too late for one of us.
Ready the transport pods. Beam the first five thousand units. Disable autopilot and engage the blasters.
All the orders sit on the tip of my tongue as I trudge out of the Control Chamber, stepping onto the ship’s main bridge.
It’s multilayered, with translators and navigators on the level above and pilots, engineers, and gunners below.
The bridge hovers in between, branching into three main sections—one leading up, one leading down, and one leading to the Captain’s chair.
I’m not used to acting in the capacity of Captain, but on this mission, since I outrank everyone else, that dubious honor falls to me. I’d never sit in the chair, though. Not like Zolkan did. It isn’t my style.
Instead, I snap an impatient hand at the ice-blue female awaiting me. Her musk—subtle but strengthening in my presence—burns my nostrils. My stomachs clench, fresh pain ripping through my middle.
I just want Sofi.
The pathetic thought puts an unholy scowl on my face as Lieutenant Koro hands me her holotab. She might have a very misplaced crush, but the female is truly one of our better translators. I squint at her transcription, my insides hardening.
It isn’t from the Galactic Council.
Not at all.
I raise my voice so it carries throughout the bridge’s layers. “Ready the transport pods! Prepare to beam the first five thousand units! Disable autopilot and engage the blasters. Now!”
The ruff echoes through all three floors, launching my subordinates into motion. My insides twist, visions of the omega I left behind flying through my head as I find my own position.
I could go back to the Control Chamber. Or head to the teleporter to be beamed over with my troops.
But Sofi’s eyes haunt my every breath.
Guiding me to the one place I didn’t want to end up—the Captain’s chair.
Zolkan’s chair.
And Zazt’s before him.
I drop into the seat, re-scanning the transmission still clutched in my claws.
Thinking fucking gods-damned hells isn’t a strong enough curse for what’s coming our way.
Wishing I’d never left the omega. Not without saying goodbye, at least.
Because we’re about to go down.
And a good Captain always goes down with his ship.
I drop the holotab to the floor as a pointed spacecraft lurches out of hyper-speed several leagues away. Looming.
Waiting for me.
I buckle my lap belt and say a prayer to Stelaris, asking her to protect my Sofi. Begging her to deliver one final message to the human I love:
Forgive me, little one.