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I have a small squadron to command. Holter, Eros, Pappas, and a few others from the Centauri gather around me. We’ve secured the eastern docking dome, the one that is closest to the governor’s apartment and the logical choice for him to try and escape from. I don’t think he’s smart enough to take a different one. But then he has kept the secret research away from everyone for a long time. Underestimating an enemy never leads to anything good.
“He’s still in his apartment, but it looks like his mate is moving, maybe? There are at least a dozen males in his apartment.” Eros flicks his eyes to Atlas. He voted for going in without warning and just taking Haden out. And I have to admit this is becoming quite the burst bubble net. It’s getting messy too fast. Podlets and civilians present. That’s why I prefer submarines and tridents. I might hate the Vikings, but I don’t want to kill innocents. If we had stormed into his apartment with no warning, made a hit on a governor, there would be no coming back from that. Civil war would have consumed the Veiled City. I get it. I understand why Atlas took the stand he has, but I don’t have to like it.
The doors open. “Don’t shoot,” a male cries out. “I’m taking my family to my omada. We’re zoologists.” Five males each carry a podlet and an animal of various sizes. Their mermaid hugs a terrarium with a lizard in it.
That’s when citizens start fleeing. Fleeing with animals of all kinds: monkeys, raccoons, skunks, gophers, capybaras, caracals, and so many hedgehogs. So many.
Atlas has other soldiers with pervisculums pointed at the door. None of the governor’s top officials will sneak past them. Solos and omadas stream away from the airlocks. But there are others who have simply gotten in the vehicles and are taking us in like a show.
“Get them out of here,” I order another unit. When we fight the Vikings on the front, there’s not exactly people having snacks while watching from the open roofs of their— My eyes focus on one shiny golden Gorsca. Damn it. I point Castor’s solo out to Holter.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Holter charges down the dock.
I’m going to kill him. I don’t care that he just joined our pod. I take back every good thing I’ve ever said about him. “He’s brought our mate to the front line.” I smack Eros’s side. “I’ll be right back,” I say to one of Atlas’s aides.
I race down the side of the dock and pound on the window. The roof opens slightly.
“Poseidon,” a shaky male voice says. I’m not sure if he’s identifying me or swearing.
Eros and Holter are behind me. Holter skids into my back, and I push forward into the glass, my face pressed against it. Inside I see a male, a mermaid, and a monkey, and none of them are Annabelle or Castor. “You’re clear to go.”
“What the hell, Nico?” Holter pushes at my elbow to get to the gorsca.
“It’s not Castor’s.”
“Oh damn, you’re right. It’s missing the scratch you put on the front fin a few weeks ago.” Eros laughs.
We’re back to the front of the dock, next to Atlas. Families and animals continue to stream out.
“Nico?” Eros holds out his block for me. It’s a message from Annabelle.
During the docking ceremony when I met the Braesen governor, he said his mate wasn’t there because they were expecting a podlet.
“Damn.” I show it to Holter. “Atlas, we need to move in and move in now. Haden Moretti’s mate is pregnant. The coward will use her as a shield if we don’t get in there. And for fuck’s sake, get the media, citizens, and tourists out of here,” I growl. That there are still Braesen hanging around in the docking dome watching is idiotic.
The teams are small and heavily armed. When we get to the governor’s penthouse, Atlas signals for the door to come down. Shots ricochet in the hallway and into the apartment. Normally we’d use a stun grenade—old fashioned and low-tech but effective. But not with a pregnant mermaid inside.
It’s a few seconds. We’re waiting for clear shots. I’m the second one in. I scan the room. It’s orange and pink; even in the dim light, it glows. From my right, I catch a reflection in the hallway—a blaster trident pointed at me. I fire at the same time he does and roll to the side. His blast tears through the side of my left arm. Mine hits the center of the male’s chest. I take cover behind an overstuffed orange chair. Behind me, others file in. Shots continue for a few minutes, but our males have on armor and are soldiers. The Braesen in this room aren’t. The shots stop.
Atlas pops up from behind a table he flipped. “Secure the governor’s mate.” The only Braesen in this room are dead, from what I can see.
Eros crouches next to me. “You good?”
“It’s not that easy to get rid of me.” I stand up, my trident in my right hand.
“Good, ‘cause Sunshine would be angrier than a viperfish if you died today.”
“Not planning on it.” My arm hurts, but I’m not acknowledging it yet. There are two corridors off of this room.
“Clear.” Holter pops out of the one to the left. His eyes flick to my arm for the briefest second.
Atlas moves to the right. “Eros,” he calls.
In the mirror, a door down the hallway closes.
“This ends here, Haden. Send your mate out.” My voice echoes in the empty corridor.
It’s a long minute, but the door opens and a dark-haired mermaid scampers down the hallway––one hand on her belly, the other in the air. She runs crying out of the apartment.
