Page 108 of The Edge of Dawn

Not to mention him and Ashrael, two of the most skilled Silent Ones in the Nine Galaxies.

“There it is.” Tarak motioned toward a glowing blue holoscreen, where a ship was clearly visible, tracking rapidly across the three-dimensional map. “We’ve identified it as the Caelix III, a medium-class battle transport from Daegan’s old fleet. Its systems aren’t advanced enough to detect our upgraded stealth mode, so it will be easy to intercept. It’s likely that Amun knows this, that he’s expecting us and will try and use his leverage over the hostages to negotiate for whatever it is that he wants.”

“What he wants?” Ashrael raised a dark eyebrow. “Is that possibly different from what the Krael wish for?”

Dragek recognized the old Kordolian word—Krael. It meant usurper. How fitting. That was how Tarak and his people referred to the Kordolians that would see the Empire rise again. Dragek’s knowledge of post-imperial politics wasn’t very intricate, but he knew the Krael consisted mainly of nobility—the lords of the Noble Houses who’d managed to escape Kythia before the downfall and various military and covert factions, including the architects of The Program.

Those were the people that had created Dragek, Ashrael, and their ilk. He didn’t know how many Mistresses still existed, controlling their Silent Ones through a powerful psychic hold. The Krael might not be as well-organized and resourced as Tarak’s Darkstar Mercenaries, but the mere fact that they still existed was reason enough for extreme vigilance.

If Dragek got the chance to destroy all the Mistresses and Masters of The Program, he would do it without hesitation.

For just like the others, he knew how his people thought.

How ruthless and cruel they could be.

How dangerous they could be, especially when cornered or desperate.

He was one of them, after all.

“Interestingly, the Caelix III hardly sends any comms to their allies. Either they’re trying not to give away the locations of their group, or they’re just not communicating,” Tarak said matter-of-factly. “It is interesting that Amun has taken such a seemingly reckless course of action. One would think he would have sought a landing refuge long before now, but instead, their course has remained steady for Duxuth.”

“Almost like it’s a trap or something,” Rykal said dryly.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Kalan muttered.

“Why do you think I’ve assembled a full attack squadron?” Tarak raised a pale eyebrow. “No auxiliary fleet has joined the Caelix III to escort it to its destination as of yet. It’s almost as if they’re trying to lure us with the promise of an easy capture.”

“That doesn’t worry you?” Dragek frowned in confusion. He couldn’t fathom how Tarak and his crew were being so relaxed about it all.

“No. Even if it’s a trap, they can’t deal with what we’re about to throw at them.” Tarak folded his arms, his obsidian armor absorbing the surrounding light. His aura was so calm and immovable. Like some ancient stone formation that had weathered storms over the eons. How could he be like this? Compared to the Masters and Mistresses—who, despite their cold orders, had always had a chaotic energy about them—this man was steadfast. He inspired confidence in Dragek, not hatred and fear.

“Explain,” Dragek said, momentarily forgetting that he was not in a position to question the former general of the Kordolian Imperial Military, a man who wielded an unimaginable amount of power.

Tarak inclined his head in an obliging manner, one corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly. Dragek could hardly believe it.

“One of the differences between them and us is that I have invested heavily in updating my fleet’s technologies. The one we’ll be using here is called Second Silence. A cone of silence that will envelop the Caelix III, making it invisible to any who seek to track it. It will essentially cease to exist. We could fly it to Earth, and the Krael would be none the wiser.”

“But you said there’s a Silent One onboard. If they’re under the control of a Mistress, they can project what’s happening to her.”

Tarak nodded. “That’s where Ashrael comes in. He’ll take out the rogue Silent One. You will be responsible for capturing Amun. Kail and I will provide both cover and diversion. Rykal and Kalan will remain on the outside of the ship as backup until I give further orders. Once the situation is under control, they will board and help us secure the hostages. Understood?”

Dragek shook his head. “No. Detaining this Amun is supposedly the most fraught and important task of all. Why are you assigning this to me?” He glanced at Ashrael, who was as impenetrable as ever. “Surely, being the more skilled one, Ashrael should take on that job. I can hunt down the other Silent One. As I am right now, that task would suit me better, anyway.” Flush with the controlled agony of the Mating Fever, Dragek bared his fangs.

“It’s precisely because of your condition that you’ll be better equipped to capture the prince,” Ashrael said quietly. “Since getting close to him requires a greater degree of stealth, and your ability to sustain qim is better than mine right now.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You underestimate the power of the Mating Fever. If you don’t believe me, try it.”

“What, now?”

Ashrael’s dark eyes burned into him. “Yes. You haven’t properly tested it yet.”

“I don’t know whether I want to prove you wrong or not,” Dragek muttered.

“Are you afraid, then?” A subtle taunt had entered Ashrael’s voice.

“No,” Dragek snarled, becoming irritated.

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