My arm tightened around Lilibet’s trembling form while my free hand shot out to clutch at Diarvet’s arm, my fingers digging into his scaled flesh. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll protect her.”
Lilibet’s tiny arms constricted around my neck like a vice as a heartbroken whimper escaped her throat, the sound cutting through me more effectively than a scalpel.
Diarvet’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto mine, blazing with a furious determination that seemed to set the very air between us ablaze.
“No,” he growled, his voice rough as grinding stone. One massive hand settled gently on Lilibet’s curls, his touch infinitely tender even as his eyes burned with resolve. “I will protect you both.”
My dad was a devoted science fiction enthusiast while I was growing up, so I’d watched every fictional captain of every fictional starship on TV and in the movies. But fiction, with its neat resolutions and heroic speeches, was no match for the raw intensity of reality unfolding before me. Yet Diarvet most assuredly could take his place as a hero.
“Yanku,” Diarvet spun, his gaze alighting on a younger Zarpazian whose scales shimmered with nervous energy as he hunched behind a massive console bristling with holographic displays. “What is our ETA to the asteroid field?”
Yanku gave his captain a skeptical glance but answered promptly. “Five minutes, Captain.”
Diarvet took the information with a curt nod, then added, “Contact the dock immediately and tell them to outfit my private shuttle with enough supplies to last a full cycle. They have exactly five minutes.” His voice carried the weight of authority, each word crisp as breaking glass.
“Cumar,” he pivoted again, his movements fluid despite their urgency, eyes fixing on a towering male whose deep purple hair caught the light like liquid amethyst. “Set up a monitoring frequency with the Alliance Council. I want every syllable that slithers from Kwado lips heard by them—every threat, every demand, every breath.”
“Merkit,” he turned once more to address the male who stood at rigid attention nearby. “Send a message to Chamberlain Ukala. Tell him I am not currently on board this vessel, and neither is the human or youngling.”
“Don’t you think someone on the docking bay would have witnessed your boarding?” Cumar interjected, his fingers dancing across his controls, holographic readouts cascading around his hands like digital waterfalls.
“I’ll inform them we assumed you were aboard for departure, but a thorough search of the ship has revealedyou missing,” Merkit suggested, his mind already weaving the deception.
“Excellent,” Diarvet’s lips compressed into a line of grim satisfaction as he delivered an approving pat to the male’s shoulder.
“What exactly is your plan?” Merkit asked. The question came not from a subordinate addressing his captain, but from a friend.
Diarvet’s blue eyes flickered toward me for just a heartbeat—a moment of silent communication that calmed my racing heart. “When we reach the asteroid field, execute a one hundred eighty-degree rotation so that our docking bay faces away from the Kwado vessels and directly into the debris field. We’ll cut all power to the shuttle except life support and shielding and let gravitational forces pull the ship into the asteroids. We can hide there until you successfully lead the Kwado away from this sector.”
The way Merkit’s eyes widened told me this plan walked a fine line between daring and dangerous.
“Dispatch a team to the royal chambers,” Diarvet continued, his voice never wavering from its commanding tone. “I want every trace of Jolie and Lilibet’s presence aboard this ship eliminated—clothing, personal effects, even scent traces if necessary.”
“My teddy bear,” Lilibet wailed suddenly, her voice cracking with the particular anguish only a child can feel when faced with losing precious comfort. Tears gathered in her eyes, and I felt my heart fracture. I didn’t possess the cruelty to refuse her this one small solace, and apparently, neither did our protector.
“You!” Diarvet pointed at a guard standing at rigid attention just inside the bridge’s entrance. “Retrieve her teddybear from the royal chambers and meet us at the docking bay. Hurry!”
The warrior’s eyes widened almost comically, but he accepted his assignment with a sharp, economical nod and departed at a full sprint, his boots echoing against the metal decking as he disappeared into the ship’s corridors.
Diarvet’s attention returned once again to Merkit. “You need to make it seem like I acted independently, without anyone approval or awareness. This way, our king remains blameless, and the Kwado cannot justify declaring war against Zarpazia. Inform Ukala that you have contacted the Alliance Council and are fully amenable to returning to the Ardeese Valout for a comprehensive search.”
“And what is your plan?” Merkit asked, his voice threading the needle between professional concern and personal curiosity.
Diarvet’s eyes blazed, a mixture of emotions transforming his features into something almost predatory. “Protect them,” he declared. His massive hand clasped the back of Merkit’s neck in a gesture of brotherhood and farewell, while a rather wicked grin spread across his lips. “You are the captain now, my friend. Command her well.”
Merkit seemed shocked by the words, but accepted with a slow nod, his gaze never leaving Diarvet’s.
“Three minutes until we reach the asteroid belt,” Yanku announced from his station, his voice tight.
Diarvet acknowledged the pilot with a grateful nod, then seized my hand with his, me along. Together we raced through the corridors, my heart hammering against my ribs with an odd mix of dread and excitement. I clutched Lilibet tightly against my chest, her silken curls dancing around my face with such wild abandon that I nearly sneezed from their feathery tickle.
The docking bay stretched out in a mix of metal and light, vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadows high above. Massive blast doors sealed the far end—thick barriers that could withstand the crushing void of space when opened. Emergency lighting strips pulsed along the walls in steady amber rhythms, casting everything in a warm, mechanical glow.
The deck was a maze of docking clamps, fuel lines, and cargo loaders. Overhead, a network of gantries and magnetic crane arms hung like sleeping giants. The air hummed with the constant whisper of life support systems, recycling atmosphere, and maintaining the delicate balance that kept this pocket of breathable space intact.
“Captain!” A breathless call echoed across the vast chamber, and I turned to see the guard burst through the bay’s entrance, his chest heaving from his sprint through the ship’s corridors. With a triumphant growl, he held aloft the prize of his mission: a teddy bear that appeared impossibly tiny in his massive, clawed hands.
“My teddy!” Lilibet’s voice erupted in a squeal that mixed pure relief with bubbling happiness, the sound bouncing off the walls. Her entire body seemed to vibrate with joy as she reached out with desperate, chubby little fingers.
