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Chapter Four
Talyani was grateful she’d obeyed the major’s orders as the Troubadour went through a series of maneuvers that, even strapped in, flung her first over one arm of her seat and then the other. Her cap flew off, causing all the curls she’d secured under it to explode.
She saw Vujcec was in the same predicament, while the cyborgs never lost their balance even though they were all standing, except for the one in the pilot’s seat. How was that possible?
Looking forward, she realized the major had minimized the navigation screen to one corner of the main viewing screen, allowing him to see what was happening in front of the ship.
How he was able to bark out orders amidst the chaos calmly, she couldn’t understand. Maybe it was part of becoming a cyborg. After his transition, Nas had become more distant, not that he’d been forthcoming before becoming a cyborg. He had been interested in her life, in making sure she wasn’t being taken advantage of, and he made sure she knew if she were ever in trouble, he’d be there for her.
It was one of the reasons she’d known she had to do the same for him when she’d discovered the emperor’s plans. The other reason was that she loved him.
Oh, she loved her mother and father, but that was different. They were all about power, prestige, and each other, in that order.
Having a child was a means to an end—something to be done for their social standing, like wearing the right dress to the right event. At least until she won Worlds, then they’d become proud doting parents, gushing about how they’d always known how talented she was. Nas was the only one who really cared about Talyani, the person, not the image. If she lost him, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“Fire.”
The major’s order pulled her from her dark thoughts to watch streaks of white leave the Troubadour and turn into bright flashes.
“Direct strike on the Nissa,” Pike announced.
“Damage?” Ranvir demanded.
“Minimal,” Pike replied. “They raised their shields.”
“Hard right!” Ranvir ordered when a burst of white headed towards them. Ganesha obeyed, and it flew right by them.
“That was a plasma burst,” Pike informed everyone. “The Nissa isn’t fucking around.”
“Did you think they would?” Ranvir asked dryly. “Are they turning to follow us? Did our distraction work?”
“Yes,” Tane told him, his gaze fixed on the navigation screen.
“And the Prefect?” Ranvir asked.
“Still firing on the escape vessels,” Pike reported. “Although they’ve missed more than they’ve hit.”
The major sat back in his chair. “Get their attention, Pike.”
“Yes, Major.”
Talyani watched as Pike sent multiple streams of white towards the battleship. The streams turned into several blinding explosions. Flinching, her hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock.
“What the fuck!” Pike cursed. “They didn’t raise their shields.”
“The Nissa is coming up behind us,” Tane’s emotionless voice filled the bridge. “They’re firing.”
Talyani’s hands clenched the armrests of her seat, and sweat formed on her brows as she watched the streaks of white race toward them. Gods, was this the end?
“Raise rear shields,” the major ordered. “Pike, head towards Tyurma. Let’s see if we can lure the Nissa away.”
“And the Prefect?” Tane asked.
“They’re broadcasting that they are disabled,” Wells told them, cupping his hand over his in-ear monitor. “They’re requesting aid.”
“It should take more than that to disable the Prefect.” Pike’s gaze shot to Ranvir’s.
“Yes, it should have,” Ranvir agreed, his gaze returning to Pike. “Tane, how many vessels have escaped?”
