Page 94 of Scorching the Alien Empire
Drexios, however, looks between the cheering space-knights with confusion etched into his stupid face.
“You limp-dicked cowards!” He jabs a finger at Jazreal, then waves it at the others. “All of you! Gorexius led us to the finest battlefields the universe had to offer, and now you dishonor his memory bybleatinglike whipped boracks?”
“Youdarecall me coward,Second!” Jazreal snarls, his scarred face contorting with fury. His spear ignites in a searing blue flash as he strides forward, each step coiled with barely restrained violence.
“Oh no,” I deadpan, Sahara-dry. “Someone stop them.”
Hopefully,Jazzy runs Drexios through like the universe’s ugliest shish kebab. I lean forward in my red frowny seat, preparing to enjoy a bloodbath.
Dracoth, naturally, has other ideas.
“Cease!” He roars like an erupting volcano, so close and deafening that poor Todd and I nearly jump out of our beautiful skins.
Jazreal freezes mid-step, his green eyes locked on Drexios. Across from him, Drexios’s fingers twitch toward the energy blades strapped to his back, his whole body tensed like a coiled spring, waiting to snap.
“Warfare is our birthright. Our divine gift,” Dracoth declares at last, slicing through the sizzling tension. His voice rings out, loud and commanding, as his gaze settles on Jazzy. “To deny that is to deny ourselves. Those who follow me will always bathe in battle’s warming fires—the promise I swore to each of you.”
His head sweeps over the chamber, taking in every warrior, every soul pledged to his cause.
Drexios nods, tousling his ridiculously long green hair—shaved at the sides—like some insane techno-barbarian reject. Slowly, he straightens, arms folding across his chest, a smirk splitting his face.
“Through the Crucible, I faced the twisted heart of the Scythians.” Dracoth’s voice deepens, turning grave. “An entity that defies reason and logic. A parasite that butchered our females. One that intends to erase all life.” His gaze flicks to Drexios, unyielding. “Honor demands revenge. Our survival demands its eradication. The universe cries out for justice—we are its harbingers.”
He lets his words hang, heavy as my basic mother’s makeup bag. Then, he adds, “Soon, you will see the truth for yourselves. Their accursed space laboratory awaits. Spread the word to your war brothers.Thisis why we fight.Thisis why the Scythians burn in our fury.”
A swell of pride surges through me at his declaration. Surprise, too.
“Well said,” I purr, reaching up to stroke his rough chin, close enough to breathe in his musky scent. “Although, I didn’t know you could string so many words together. You might need a nap, Babes.” I giggle, unable to resist the jab.
Dracoth lets out a grunt—low, irritated, but also... delicious.
“Slaying droids and drones lacks the oh-so-bloodypersonaltouch my claws crave.” Drexios grumbles, never happy, always complaining, proving once again why he’s more trouble thanhe’s worth. Then, with a shrug. “But killings, killing.” He laughs manically, a glint in his ruby eye. “I’ll prepare the warband for boarding parties.”
He pivots toward the exit, his ragged half-cloak fluttering behind him.
“Are there any scientists onboard?” Dracoth’s question halts Drexios mid-step. And, with it, my fleeting peace of mind.
Jazreal stiffens. “What of Elder Ignixis?” His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, but the concern on the half-functional side of his face is unmistakable.
The question lands like a stiletto heel to the shin—a sharp, brutal reminder of pain too raw. Dracoth’s gaze falters, shocking like a mountain collapsing. Through our bond, Ifeelit. His despair, his anguish flaring brighter than the blazing streaks of azure sparkling outside.
It’s fine, I’ll pick up the slack.
“Elder Ignixis heroically sacrificed himself for this opportunity,” I declare with sharp, precise words, flicking my hand toward the floor-to-ceiling window behind me. “That was his fate, his destiny—the one chosen by Arawnoth’s molten will.”
My heart blazes with passion, the words spilling from my lips like liquid fire. “The road the herald willingly walked. Knowing the cost. Knowing salvation’s prize. He led us to this path, with his strength, with his resolve. And how was he repaid? Shunned. Condemned. By the very people he died to protect.”
I let my breath steady, though my chest still heaves with fervor. The space-knights stare at me—wonder and shock glimmering in their eyes, feeding the flames of my conviction. With reverent hands, I snatch Ignixis’s ashes from my robes, still pulsing with divine heat through the pouch into my cupped hands.
“I hold his sacred ashes.” My voice drops, resonant with power. “Me. The Blessed Daughter of Arawnoth and Aenarael.His student. His witness. I watched with devotion as Father claimed his soul, burning him away with his divine love.”
I turn to smile at Dracoth, feeling his pride and adoration flowing beneath his stoic façade.
I soften my tone, letting it slither through the chamber like a whispered prophecy. “Elder Ignixis burns within us now. His devotion, His wisdom. His fire, infused into our very hearts. Come, receive his blessing. Let him ignite the path and drive back the darkness.”
I hop down from Dracoth’s long legs, the pouch of ashes held before me in trembling hands.
The space-knights stare at me with wide-eyed disbelief, but I stand firm, tall and regal. Not an ounce of doubt, only fervor blazing in my soul. I love it! Love how it makes me feel, the words spilling out like a passionate trace.
