Chapter 68
Sixty-Eight
Streams of static blue energy zipped and twirled through Dante’s blaster cannons as he opened fire onto the gathering of ships blockading his home world. His teeth gritted, hands gripping the steering panel with intense ferocity. Of all the lousy ways to repay him for his endless years of loyal servitude. How dare Izzo challenge him. He glowered at all the commotion.
He wanted this entire situation to be done and over with. He wanted Izzo’s head on a spike.
Spacecraft exploded, particles and debris collided with the glass windows surrounding the cockpit of his ship, skittering against the metal exterior. Enemy destroyers anticipated his attack, returning the favor.
He dodged their attempts, making his way through the legion of spacecraft, toward Izzo’s slow-traveling pleasure cruiser. Everything Izzo did was a brute display of power and wealth. He couldn’t be fuller of himself if he tried. He spit on the floor in disgust.
Arrogant ass , his mouth flattened. At one time he too believed that was the only way to survive and to gain respect. He knew all the better avenues to take, and it was all thanks to Autumn. His sweet Little Moonlight. The love of his life.
He missed her more than anything and tried to cope with the cruel fact that he’d seen her for the last time. A heaviness settled in his chest as he cherished her memory.
Twisted horns sprouted in all directions of the octagon-shaped vessel. His heart pounded as he approached at an incredible speed.
His soldiers defended the planet, shooting their blasters and maneuvering through the vast sea of ships. Some made contact with the hostile spacecraft, causing them to lose control, while others weren’t so lucky and exploded on the spot, forfeiting their lives for this miserable cause.
How many more would have to suffer at his hands if he couldn’t stop him?
The elite soldiers on his squad were whittled down one by one before his eyes. There were too many enemy destroyers to fend off.
They were outnumbered by far and didn’t stand a chance. The situation looked grim.
While he was a skilled warrior in his own right, one of the most fearsome the universes had ever seen, his fleet of two hundred men was no match for the Grand Supreme’s legion. The ships were as numerous as the stars in the sky.
As he turned a corner, maneuvering through an opening in the spacecraft formation, one of his soldiers went to follow his lead and his ship was struck and exploded to pieces. Limbs and steel flew everywhere, suspended in the vastness of space. A helmet floated by his window, accompanied by a black-gloved hand. He shook his head, mouth twisting.
Another ship down. The breath caught in his throat. All thanks to the Grand Supreme’s cruelty.
Would he make it to Izzo’s pleasure cruiser? It seemed unlikely. Izzo was always two steps ahead of him.
In an instant, several enemy destroyers were hot on his tail, and he couldn’t seem to shake them no matter how hard he tried. Stars raced by his windows in a blur of pale light. They followed him through every roll and pass and turn. They out-maneuvered every move he could think of. It seemed he was cornered. It was only a matter of time until they made impact, causing him to crash. His heart raced, hands sweating within his navy-blue gloves. A swell of panic ripped through his limbs.
Just as he braced for the inevitable, four dozen sleek silver vessels came zipping through the gathering, taking out five enemy ships at a time. Explosions rattled through the surrounding planets and stars, sending debris crashing everywhere. His ship vibrated from their force. They stopped and waved at him as they continued forging a path. He caught a glimpse of Emperor Brumha with a navy helmet covering his silver face. His grand velvet white cape spilled over the back of his seat.
He’d come after all. Even after the terrible way he’d treated him. He didn’t deserve his kindness.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he received a transmission signal, crackling through his speaker.
All he could do was smile beneath the dark visor of his helmet. He was embarrassed he couldn’t tackle the situation by himself like he’d intended to. He never wanted to ask for assistance from anyone.
“Thank you for coming,” he finally muttered, shocked that the words came spilling out of his mouth. He seldom thanked anyone for anything, but this occasion seemed to be an appropriate one.
“Sometimes we could all use a little help,” the emperor reminded him as he zoomed ahead, zapping the surrounding ships to dust. They exploded in red and orange streaks.
The Zambarian fleet massacred the enemy ships, forging a path for him to travel through. He raced against time and space to catch a small horizontal opening that formed at the base of Izzo’s vessel. He would not miss this opportunity to confront him.
The desire to wrap his hands around his throat and strangle him to death was a lifetime in the making.
At the last second, as he went to enter, a blast rattled his destroyer, shocking his system. He shot forward in his seat, choked back by his harness, before slamming his helmeted head against the back of his chair. He inhaled, taking in the burning scent of metal. Flames flickered against the window. Black smoke churned.
Drat , he was losing control.
Using all his might, he guided his ship toward the sliver of an opening. He managed to slip inside the vessel as the entrance sealed airtight. A wave of relief rattled through him that he was able to make his way onboard, until the smoke intensified. It churned in thick black puffs. He unbuckled his harness and raced outside the vessel and onto the docking bay. He ran through the hallway and ducked for cover as his destroyer detonated into a million pieces, sending debris sputtering everywhere. Metal and smoke collided with the fleshy ceiling and floor.
He was trapped.
He inhaled and exhaled, covering his mouth with his hands. Izzo had to know he was on board. He made a far-from-graceful entrance.
His stomach twisted as he surveyed his surroundings. The walls breathed like they were alive. A pink fleshy substance decorated either side of the hallway—the skin of Izzo’s enemies woven together in a quilt. Droplets of red dripped from the ceiling, pooling against his boots.
“Disgusting cannibals,” he scrunched his nose. So many terrible memories flooded him of this place.
His communicator buzzed within the confines of his pocket.
He peeked. One new message from Emperor Brumha.
“Are you okay, Emperor? Do you need me to send reinforcements?”
Dante shook his head then replied. “No, this is where I leave you. Thank you for your kind offer—you’ve already done so much.”
As soon as he finished typing his sentence, he glanced up from his communicator to a blaster aimed straight at his face. Inky creatures only found in nightmares approached him. Their black scales glittered against the hall lights. Their fingers were sticky with death.