At the mere mention of the Fleet Station—where she was—his heart beat a little faster. The Mating Fever had lost its edge, becoming a dull ache in the back of his consciousness. It was probably just because he was so tired, but he was certain that as soon as he saw her again, he would…
He didn’t know what he would do.
Succumb to the madness in a good way, probably.
His thoughts swirled, failing to make any kind of coherent sense. All he could do was blink slowly and stare at the general in disbelief. “What did you do back there? And what… is to become of me now?”
“I left a warning for my past self in a place where only I would find it. A datacube that contained everything I needed to know. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all you need to know. As for you… we can have that discussion later. I believe you have more urgent matters to attend to.”
“Indeed.” Dragek’s yearning spilled into his aura. He couldn’t help it. He was stretched taut. If he didn’t get relief soon, he would surely, eventually, break.
He wasn’t even furious that Tarak had so very knowingly used him; used the phenomenon of his Mating Fever to forge him into a certain kind of weapon.
Tarak was a former Kordolian general. What else was he going to do?
“Then go, Dragek. Goddess knows you’ve waited long enough, and so has she.”
FORTY-NINE
He went back alone, on a small cruiser piloted by a laconic crew member who said little and mostly kept to himself.
Dragek was fine with that.
He needed the silence now more than ever, anyway.
They went back through the wormhole, through the rift in space and time; leaving Tarak, Ashrael, and the rest of the Darkstar warriors to deal with Amun Kazharan and the unlikely group of human females and hybrid children.
What an unexpected discovery.
Amun wasn’t at all what he seemed to be. He wasn’t a blind follower of the old ways. He wasn’t a power-hungry bastard. He appeared a little insane, but he was also rather calculated, wasn’t he?
Creating that elaborate situation to draw Tarak and the Darkstar Mercenaries in, then using all those little tricks to try and get Tarak to do his bidding.
His threats had quickly become useless because Tarak was always one step ahead.
But in the end, Amun had achieved his objectives.
He’d escaped the Krael.
He’d brought the women and children to safety.
He’d secured Tarak’s cooperation to retrieve his sister.
The price?
His freedom.
What a convoluted situation. Dragek didn’t entirely trust Amun, but that was Tarak’s problem to deal with now.
You have done enough.
Indeed, he had. He’d made his choice, paid his dues, and proven himself.
Tarak had acknowledged him.
And now, it was time for him to take that which he had waited so very long—so torturously—to claim.
His prize.