Page 75 of Clan and Command

He could hear the grin in Lokmi’s tone. “Yes, Captain. I’ll let you borrow the engines for that long.”

Kila growled. He was going to teach that Imdiko a lesson if it was the last thing he did. “Uls, get us out of here. Top speed.”

“Engaging now, Captain.”

Kalquor and the armada of ships defending it hung around them for another instant. Then all of it was gone, streaks of light firing past them.

Uls counted down. “Boost automatically disengaging in three…two…one. Engines at three-quarter power.”

Star-speckled eternal night came into focus on the vid banks. Kila ignored what they told him for the real story. He turned to his weapons commander, who studied the analysis coming from sensitive instruments. “Signs of pursuit?”

“Sensors detect none. Com monitors are still operational and tied in.”

Still hidden behind his thick mop of hair, Communications Officer Veko reported. “I’m hearing that all destroyers we encountered at Kalquor are still in search mode. We would seem to be clear, and our escape remains undetected at this time.”

“Keep an eye on that, Com Officer. Watch for any energy signatures or displacement from hidden pursuers.”

Piras said, “Those spyships are a tricky bunch, even with their old-fashioned cloaks.”

“No kidding.” Kila regarded the Dramok. The front of Piras’s uniform was soaked with blood. His long hair hung in sweaty tangles. His swollen face was drawn in pain, and he looked unnaturally pale. He swayed a little, adrenaline no doubt fading as the immediate danger receded.

The man was a mess and then some. He was still all Kila could ever want in a man. Well, almost.

Okay, I might want that irritating dual-breed too. More than likely, I’ll keep chasing Lokmi, even if he’s an engine-hogging pain in my ass. Damn the delicious bastard.

Feeling he’d gotten far more trouble than he’d bargained for with this mission, Kila told Piras, “We need to get you to Medical.”

His lover looked down at himself and nodded tiredly. “I think you’re right, Captain.”

“Helm, follow the course I gave you. Anything that looks wrong, com me right away.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Kila took Piras’s arm, though he thought the feisty Dramok might rip his hand off for daring such while they were on duty. To his surprise, Piras simply snorted and pulled away.

Ah well, the guy had had a rough day. Kila thought Piras would be his old rabid self in the next day or two. His old rabid, and in the right situation, wonderfully submissive self. He could hardly wait.

“Admiral?” Kila bowed, not bothering to hide the delighted smirk stretching his lips. He escorted Piras from the bridge.

Chapter 22

Kila sat in his ready room two days after rescuing Piras, scrolling through reports with what felt like indecent enjoyment. It turned out the admiral had a phenomenal talent for codebreaking. Kila had been delighted with the level of infiltration they’d gained into much of Fleet Command’s communications. The High Command had done their damnedest to lock their former admiral out of the system, but Piras had snuck back in. They didn’t know he’d managed it as far as Kila could tell. At the same time, the destroyer’s computers were locked up tight to keep Fleet Command from returning the favor.

Kila’s greedy gaze drank in information of fleet movements, changes in High Command’s protocols, and the investigation launched against Fleet Security since the treachery of Banrid and the supposed treason of Piras. The Basma would be beside himself to have such intelligence. Not that they had any intention of sharing their ill-gotten information with Maf. As far as Piras, Kila, and the crew were concerned, they still belonged to the Kalquorian Empire. Hopefully, they’d be able to restore themselves to their home soon.

Kila mused over High Command’s findings of Diwal and his men’s misconduct regarding the harsh measures they’d taken against Piras. The squad had not tried to hide what they’d done at all, claiming they’d been justified as family and clanmates of those killed on Laro during the Basma’s fleet’s attack. To some extent, Kila could sympathize with those Nobeks. Their losses demanded some kind of reparation, no matter the circumstances. But the fact it had been Piras their ire had been taken out on still made him want to rip out throats.

No one hurt the Dramok of his heart. No one.

He found some measure of justice in the investigators’ recommendations that Diwal and his men be harshly disciplined and stripped of their ranks. No doubt they would bear the punishment with dignity and the belief their actions remained justified. Kila thought they’d quit the fleet once it came out that Piras had acted on High Command’s behalf. Necessary sacrifice would hold little water with those grieving warriors. At least they wouldn’t be likely to hunt Piras down when the war was over and his reputation regained.

But if any of them was so foolish as to demand satisfaction from Kila’s lover, he’d be there to keep him safe. The Nobek’s vow in that matter was as real as if he’d sworn it before witnesses.

As if summoned by Kila’s thoughts, the door opened and Piras stepped in, blinking in surprise. Kila hadn’t told him he’d keyed automatic access to his personal spaces.

The Nobek rose from his desk, seeing with pleasure how good Piras looked in a blue, black-trimmed uniform. The admiral had been smart to send a few of his belongings to the destroyer after the Basma had gone after Rokan and Haven Colonies. Though none of them had imagined events happening at such a furious pace, being prepared for anything had served the Piras well. He remained the consummate officer: primed for the worst and ready to act at a moment’s notice.

Kila bowed and motioned him to the chair in front of the desk. “Good to see you on your feet again, Admiral. I was pleased to get Medical’s assessment that you are healed enough for duty.”

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