Page 99 of The Commander

He snorted, biting back the crude lies that formed in his mouth. He wanted to tell her that he just wanted a piece of ass, but he wouldn’t insult his Kitten that way, not even for a joke that would insult the female in front of him.

“Many of the houses have given up a desire for peace in exchange for power and monetary gain. They want to buy a peace that will never be true. How can it be when their corruption is killing Sarria?” The wind blew down the corridor between them, spilling her scent into his senses. She was being as honest as she knew how to be.

“I don’t want to be a part of a breeding program. I’m not a stud for a dead goddess. Maybe it is Sarria and Control and all those fucking rule-making badges that need to die.” Bastian wasn’t a true believer. He gave her a grim smirk.

“You know exactly how much firepower that would take. Don’t be a fool.” The man beside her spoke up, coaxed out of his silence by Bastian’s suggestion. His voice grated, rough, and breathy, a sign that he’d had to regrow part of his throat at some point in his life.

Some things never healed right.

The most damage Bastian ever inflicted on Control came as a Commander. Had he been willing to go along to get along, he might one day have earned a position that would allow him to destroy the Anciadrimda from the inside. But as a male, he would never reach the power that the woman in front of him could attain. He could not sway a society or build a new one.

“This earth has been stabilized. We can and wll rebuild here, with seeds planted eons ago. It is a place where the old ways can be reborn. Where the goddess’s true will can be implemented. Every continent has carried Sarrian lines to birth a future, some of the more promising, stable areas held several. You are among the first wave,the first fathers, but there will be more. Here you can be a provider, protector, teacher of your young.”

“And what will my young look like? Will my sons be soft-skinned?”

“No. They will look like you. And so will your daughters. They will be vulnerable young, however. You must watch over them carefully. They would not survive the first breath trials on Sarria. It will be better for you to build your life with other battlers, for safety.”

Daughters? Kitten wanted a daughter. Bastian was still coming to terms with the possibility. The man across from him saw the realization land in the faint change of Bastian’s pulse.

His lips twitched.

The bastard.

“My son will be soft?”

“Your children will be born soft to accommodate the human physiology. The skeleton must take time to grow and the armor to harden. They will be fragile.”

Bastian did not like the sound of that. Soft meats?

The priestess saw his reaction and seized on it. “In a Sarrian home the weak are always protected.”

Bastian grunted.

“You can join with others until your sons are sturdy enough to stand beside you. You will prepare the way for others to follow, those who seek freedom from the taint of corruption. This planet will become a new home for Sarrian—those seeking mates and families, building their lives in honor of the goddess.” Xylos gave him another one of her very painfully sincere expressions as she waved her hand at the ruins of the empty town.

“Earth 2: Electric Boogaloo? A sequel no one asked for, but hey, I’m game. As long as I get to direct. Though I am going to need some serious funding to build this utopia of yours. And a Costco card. Those bulk snacks are essential.” Bastian tapped a finger against his chin, feigning deep thought.

Some of the data mess in his head had disintegrated, replaced by the instincts he needed to live here and protect his mate. Thepresence of a female from house Nectuis brought it all back. He hoped he was as annoying to her as his P.I. had once annoyed him.

“You will have what you need to thrive, and you will not be bothered. Everyone who hated you on Sarria for causing trouble and in Control will believe you are dead. You will be free, Bastian. Free to build, to create your own house, to live as the Goddess intended.” Xylos pressed on, a flicker of impatience in her eyes.

“And the catch?”

“If your mate dies, you die.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” he said. No argument from him. Kitten was his reason for living.

She unclipped a small data device from her belt, extending it towards him. “The coordinates. The names. Everything you need to know.”

“No. You can write that down. On a thing called paper. With a thing called a pen. While it is simple to deactivate any threads from trackers, that is trouble I don’t want to deal with. Or you can just tell me. I’ll remember.”

She took the device back, looking at her mate, who nodded. “I will drop a map, here, along with certain other supplies you might wish to have. Nothing is tagged or tracked. As you know, the connections here are faulty, anyway.”

“Whose idea was it not to update those trackers?” he asked the question that had bothered him since he discovered the obvious weakness.

The woman smiled. Let the question hang in the air, waiting for his conclusion before she spoke. There were over a hundred houses serving the goddess on Sarria, but only a few of them owned and worked in the maintenance and development labs.

“You think the goddess dead, Commander. After the bugs, after what we suffered and lost for no reason,” the woman’s mate said.

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