Page 73 of Clan and Command

He broke off. What did he want them to know? That it meant everything that they had come for him? That they themselves had come to mean so much to him?

Kila’s sarcastic smile spread. “Stick with yelling threats, Piras. You do better with that.”

Piras managed to laugh, and he immediately regretted doing so. Fuck, he hurt. But he didn’t have time to hurt. They were in the shuttle bay, hurrying to a destroyer-issue shuttle that only they could see due to the phasing.

He pulled loose from Kila and Lokmi, standing as straight as the horrendous pain in his abdomen allowed. “I can run.”

“Then let’s get the hell out of this place.”

They jogged to the waiting ship, past and through the wildly searching security forces.

Chapter 21

Kila had moved his ship out of Kalquor’s orbit before coming after Piras. The destroyer waited safe and undetected, but the Nobek’s hackles went up to see the other vessels that crowded close to search for it.

“They must have detected the energy displacement when we moved,” Kila said as he surveyed the scene before docking. “We’re going to have to fight our way out of this.”

“I’ll be in engineering. I’ll handle anything that comes up myself,” Lokmi said. As soon as their shuttle docked and the hatch opened, he sped to his station.

Kila ran to the bridge with a rejuvenated Piras on his heels. The captain was not surprised to see the crew there ready to do what came next, but he still felt a rush of pride. In combat readiness, they obeyed the protocol that said they did not have to rise and bow in acknowledgement to the admiral who had entered their station. Kila smiled at grim satisfaction, knowing they were about to take on men as loyal to the Empire as themselves. He loved a good fight, but this combat would be bitter to deal with. He didn’t pretend it was even a hint of the emotional storm Piras was going through over Laro though. The Dramok had rent his soul to carry out the assignment, and Kila was awed at the strength it had taken to do so.

Podium control panels and computer stations centered in the middle of the circular bridge. Helm, weapons, navigation, com stations and their backups were manned by the men who Kila considered to be the best in the fleet. Even the newest bridge member had been with him for over a decade. They knew the ship and their captain. They knew their jobs. Kila had faith in few things outside of himself, but he trusted his crew implicitly.

Surrounding the stations and men were banks of vids. Kila had a 360-degree view of the space outside his ship. Green-blue Kalquor and its five moons lay to his right, surrounded by satellites, stations, and ships. Beyond that, the velvet black of space went on endlessly.

He noted his crew, though minding their readouts and attentive to his presence, were darting glances at Piras. He checked on the Dramok and winced. Piras had closed his uniform, masking the awful cuts he’d sustained, but blood seeped through the blue fabric.

Kila wished with all his fierce heart that he had time to go back down to Fleet Command and take its security staff apart. The fucking assholes.

Instead, he asked, “Admiral, may I direct you to Medical?”

Piras waved off his concern with his usual imperious impatience. “Don’t worry about me. Get us out of here.”

“Yes, Admiral.” Dismissing his concerns and admiration for the moment, he turned to his first officer, who was also the destroyer’s helmsman. “What is our status?”

“Our course is laid in. There is no sign the fleet knows where we are, though all destroyers in the vicinity are in a hunting pattern.” Dramok Uls, an experienced and able officer, delivered the assessment in a tone that hinted at nothing but professional efficiency.

“They’ll detect our trail as soon as we move,” Kila told Piras.

He nodded. “Energy displacement can’t be masked. It’s the phase technology’s one weakness.”

“I have an idea or two on how to thwart it. Weapons Commander, are you ready?”

Mostar nodded, his brooding face as unexcited as Uls’s voice, as if he wasn’t about to open fire on comrades. “Ready, Captain.”

Piras narrowed his eyes. “Weapons? Kila, they can’t harm us as long as we’re phased.”

“But they can still follow us if we don’t throw them into confusion. We’ll do as little damage as possible to the other ships. I don’t want Kalquor’s ability to defend itself undermined.” Now that Piras was safe with him, that had become Kila’s top priority…keep Kalquor itself protected from the Basma.

Piras nodded, though a shadow moved through his eyes. Kila felt the tug of worry he’d been trying to fend off. He wondered about Piras’s state of mind after sending so many on Laro Station to their deaths that day. Knowing what must happen and making it happen were two different things. His lover had to be taking it hard. The torture he’d been subjected to in Fleet Security had probably been nothing compared to the guilt assailing him now.

Kila mentally shook his head for letting himself get distracted. He didn’t have time to fix any more of Piras’s emotional storms. He had a crew to save and a mission to carry out.

“Crew, operate as we discussed. Ready all stations.”

“Stations report ready, Captain.” Mostar’s flat voice helped settle Kila’s mind for the task at hand.

“On my mark. Standby…execute.”

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