Page 51 of The Commanders' Mate

Get back to Erica and her curved body, her softness, her heat. To Kaed. To my family. The pressure built inside the suit, as did the heat. The flesh on my back burned, despite the suit’s protection. I lost consciousness, fading in and out, fighting to stay awake.

It could have been five minutes, could have been five hours. I had lost all sense of time.

“Commander Wothar, this is the Karter. Do you copy?”

“I hear you.” My voice sounded like cracking rocks, but I could talk. Thank the gods.

“Commander Wothar, this is the Karter. I repeat, do you copy?”

“This is Ronan. Come get me.”

“Ronan, this is Kaed. Do you hear me?” He sounded… upset. Shaken.

What did I miss? Had we somehow lost?

“Is Erica well? Safe?” That was the only thing that could push Kaed to the brink like this.

“Ronan? Gods be damned. Ronan? Do you hear me? Answer me!”

Kaed? Why was he using the comms in such an informal manner? “Calm down, Kaed. I’m fine. Just a little singed. Think I broke some ribs.” I tried to twist around, find out if the Hive ship had been completely destroyed, or just seriously damaged, but I couldn’t change course. My propulsion unit did not respond and this was space. I had nothing to anchor to, nothing to use as leverage to change directions. Fuck.

“I have a problem, Kaed. Suit propulsion is damaged.” Fuck. Were my comms out? My transponder signal?

“Searching grid seven. No sign of him on sensors.” That was a Prillon warrior whose voice I did not recognize.

“Damn it. Keep looking,” Chloe ordered. “Grid five clear. Moving to grid eight.”

“Copy that. Grid four clear. Moving t

o nine.” Dorian Kanakar’s voice made me grin. My friends were out here, looking for me. They just couldn’t see me.

At least, not with their sensors.

“Got movement. Grid eight.” Chloe sounded excited, but I couldn’t hear anything outside the suit, so I had no idea if a ship was approaching.

“I don’t see anything.” The first voice again.

“Look with your eyes, warrior, not your sensors.” A ship came to a stop in front of me, hovering in space, and in the cockpit, Chloe smiled as we made eye contact. I tapped my helmet so she’d know I didn’t have comms. “Battleship Karter, this is Commander Phan. I have a visual on Commander Wothar. He’s alive, but his comms and suit propulsion are fried.”

“Thank the gods. Ronan, get your ass back to the Karter.” Commander Karter gave the order, and I had no desire to disobey.

Chloe’s ship pulled in close and a laser sight locked onto my chest seconds before a towline shot from the ship and attached to my suit. The hit rattled my ribs and hurt like hell, but nothing—except Erica’s sweet pussy—had ever felt so damn good. Chloe’s smile was brighter than any star as she pulled me in. “I’m taking you home, you crazy bastard. And you can tell Erica that I found you dead center in the middle of her gift box constellation, so I guess you’re what she’s getting for her birthday.”

Not one word of that made sense, but I didn’t care, collapsing in relief on the floor of the small fighter as Chloe closed the airlock behind me. “I have him. Everyone not on clean-up, let’s go.”

I pulled my helmet off, eager to breathe something new, something that didn’t smell burned. “Thanks, Chloe.”

The vid screen above my head lit up and Chloe’s face filled the small display. “You’re welcome.”

“Did we destroy it?” I needed to know. Was Erica safe? Karter? The rest of the crew? The people from the Varsten? So many lives on the line, and this was just on the front lines. If one of those things made it inside Coalition controlled space, the destruction would be catastrophic.

“You killed it, Warrior. I don’t know where you got that fancy ship of yours—which means I’m going to have a nice, long chat with I.C. command when I get back—but whatever explosive ordnance you were carrying blew that Hive ship into bite-sized charcoal. Incinerated. It’s like half the ship turned to ash and the other half is floating junk, every circuit and power system fried.”

“How many did we lose?” I’d heard the battle, knew the fighters had taken some hits.

“Twelve.”

I sighed. Twelve warriors, gone. Just like that. War was evil, and I was tired of dancing in her arms. “It’s too many.”

---