Page 46 of Shattered Silence

He could never forget the destruction the arrogant nobles had wrought on Tharos, could never forget how they left him to deal with the mess as they escaped in their sleek ships, not giving a second thought to the fate of his support crew—the ordinary soldiers of the Twelfth.

They were all dead now.

The rage invaded Enki’s consciousness like a spreading disease, momentarily stripping him of rational thought. Sometimes this happened; this feeling where he wanted vengeance above all else, where the faces in front of him became pale shadows of the very faces he wanted to destroy.

If not for Layla, he would have fought his way up to the Bridge to find Daegan and Luron Alerak and the rest of the Ristval V’s inner circle.

He would have slaughtered them all.

Yes. The Tharian particularly liked that idea.

“Enki,” Layla’s breathless whisper broke him out of his blood-soaked fantasy, and he remembered the General’s orders.

Your first priority is to retrieve the human.

He needed those orders. Without them, he was little more than a savage.

Reminded of his place in the Universe, Enki tightened his grip around Layla’s waist. She didn’t say anything, keeping perfectly still. He could sense her tension; her breathing was shallow and rapid, and her heartbeat hammered frantically inside the delicate cage of her chest. Truly, this ordeal was starting to take its toll on her body.

So fragile, yet so resilient. For the first time, Enki wondered what had made her this way.

And why in Kaiin’s Hells had she been all the way out here—so ill-equipped and far away from Earth—in the first place?

“Which of those stealth flyers is ready?” he asked the mech, who came to a nervous halt in front of Enki. Really, he was little more than a kid, with pale wispy hair and bright, speckled amber eyes that darted all over the place.

The mech blinked, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Th-they are all ready, Sir.” He kept looking at the Captain’s insignia on Enki’s collar. “Uh, is the huma—”

“You do not get to even look in her direction. Speak of her again and I will remove your tongue from your mouth. I need a ship, mechanic.”

Layla raised her eyebrows at his tone.

Enki spoke in Kordolian, so she wouldn’t have understood the words, but perhaps she’d detected a little bit of the protectiveness he felt toward her right now. He’d snatched her right out of the jaws of Kordolian madness and savagery, and he would do it again and again if he had to.

She was irreplaceable.

He understood that now.

As he realized how close he’d come to losing her—or even worse, to never having her in the first place—a terrible destructive anger rose up within him, and the Tharian threatened to break loose.

Enki pushed back, as he always did. Truly, this was getting old.

This is not the time. Be silent.

It took a great amount of energy for Enki to force his attention back toward the mech. The man managed to look confused and intimidated and skeptical all at the same time. “Sir, the flight schedule for this half-revolution does not indicate any—“

“Are you seriously questioning me?” Enki took a step forward, looming threateningly over the mech, who shrank back.

“No, Sir.” He was quick to avert his eyes as his conditioning kicked in. The Empire might have fallen, but these workers were still bound by the rigid training of the Kordolian military machine. Every recruit selected for the military was essentially brainwashed into accepting authority without hesitation, without question, upon penalty of death. A superior could shoot his subordinate in the head for disobedience and get away with it.

That was the true reason most soldiers never questioned their orders. The hierarchy was absolute, and to die for the Empire was glorious, apparently. “Take us onboard,” Enki snapped, his impatience growing. He wanted to be away from here as soon as possible.

“N-now, Sir?”

“I am not here to sightsee, Mechanic.” Enki waved his gun, reminding Kyral that death was a very real possibility.

Kyral slammed his fist against his chest in a nervous salute and led Enki and Layla toward a nearby cruiser without another word. His crew stood on the sidelines, staring at Enki with barely concealed fear in their eyes. They had no idea what was happening, but they didn’t dare question him, because he was the one holding the gun.

Layla didn’t say a word either. She just looked up at him with an quizzical expression, her dark eyes missing nothing.

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