Page 47 of The Commanders' Mate

That was, of course, a blatant lie. Chloe Phan of Earth had been matched through the Interstellar Brides Processing protocols. Which meant that Seth Mills, and his choice of second in Dorian, were ninety-nine percent guaranteed to make her happy.

Just like the matching protocols had given Erica to Kaed, and to me.

I thought of my family, back on the Karter, or the freighter where they should be right now. Safe. Out of the line of fire.

How did Seth Mills tolerate having both Chloe and Dorian out on these missions? They had not one child, but two, Dara and Christopher. Two beautiful, perfect children. Yet two of their parents were out here, in battle, risking their lives.

Ordnance set to go off in ninety seconds, I activated the self-destruct countdown and opened the escape hatch on the roof my fighter. I had to crawl out instead of float, the Hive ship’s rotation creating a weak artificial gravity that was just strong enough to hold me down.

Fuck. I’d planned on giving a good kick and floating out of here.

“Eighty seconds. Repeat, eight-zero seconds.”

“Copy that, Commander. Get out of there.”

I jump-floated down from the roof of the fighter to the surface of the cavern-like structure. Around me, the emptiness of space should have felt like… nothing. Instead, my entire body buzzed, as if I were being shaken from the inside out as the coils and crystal array powered up all around me.

I glanced down at my ship as I scrambled on all fours up the curved side of the star-shaped basin. At least she was recording everything and sending it back.

I glanced at the heads-up display inside my visor. We would be collecting data for sixty-two more seconds.

Was the Hive ship going to fire before the bombs could take her out?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Clear the Karter. I’m not sure the explosion will take out the weapon in time.”

Kaed’s voice came on over my comm. “You’ve done what you can. Now get the fuck out of there, Ronan. That’s an order.”

I could argue, but I wasn’t going to waste energy when I needed to get out of this crater and into open space. It was the only chance I had. I couldn’t change the countdown from here. That was one of the fail-safes built into the system. Self-destruction assured. Once activated, there was no turning it off – from inside or out.

13

Erica, Freight Craft BK5-8, Battlegroup Karter

* * *

The people were scared. So was I. But we were all putting on a brave face and smiling for the handful of children running around, chasing each other in circles, as if the ride on this freighter was one great big adventure. I even heard one small Prillon boy whoop for joy about getting out of an exam that afternoon in school.

Seemed kids were kids everywhere. I could remember being excited about a snow day now and again. No school. Snow forts and snowball fights followed by hot chocolate and a lesson from my dad on how snow crystals formed.

We’d placed water on glass slides and put them in the freezer. When my dad placed them under his microscope and beckoned me over, a scientist had been born.

I’d been seven years old, and I could remember that moment, and his big, warm hand on my back like it was yesterday.

I held onto that memory as I walked among the scared mothers and medics, their children and the elders who’d chosen to spend the remainder of their lives out here in space, training the younger males or serving as mentors and counselors. They were all here, all smiling their tense smiles for the same reason I was.

Commander Makaed Karter.

They believed in him, and so did I.

>

“Lady Karter! Lady Karter! Come play with us!” One of the young ladies beckoned to me from where she was seated near an overturned crate. The boys were being boys, rough-housing and chasing each other in a game that appeared to me a mixture between soccer and wrestling. I suspected the wrestling was not expressly part of the game.

“Please, Lady Karter. Do join us.” One of the ladies’ mothers smiled at me. If I had to guess, I’d say she was an Atlan, because she was at least a foot taller than me and had even more curves.

For a minute, I wondered why I hadn’t been matched to an Atlan, they did seem to enjoy ladies with a few extra curves. But then I saw the collar around her neck and realized she was Atlan, but her mates were Prillon warriors, just like mine.

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