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He’d even asked her to call a stop to their lovemaking on their first time.
But she hadn’t been able to.
She’d been the desperate one.
Realising the fact made her skin crawl. Selene had always been a strong woman, in charge, in control.
This new feeling of helplessness and dependence on The Sable Group for Dunia’s freedom and on Kainan for his attention was deeply unnerving.
Except now she was one hundred per cent sure she did NOT need him any longer. Nope!
‘Yes!’
She looked up from her messed-up plate at the sound of delight.
A young recruit seated on a table nearby was grinning widely, pumping a fist as he stared at his comm tab screen.
His friends crowded around him as he shared his happy news.
‘The Sable Group just OK’d my scholarship to flight training!’ he crowed.
His friends thumped his back and whooped with congratulations.
‘So badass!’ one girl said. ‘I’ve been asked to be an apprentice to Shadow for the Eden II Endurance race.’
‘Ay! They take care ofkienyejifor real,’ chimed in another young recruit, this time one with blue tattoos across his skin, similar to those of The Sable Riders. ‘Even paid for my mother’s clinic treatment when I asked for leave to visit her in Eden City last month -’
Selene sighed, staring morosely at her drink which was now a watery mess of gloopy syrup and melted ice. Everywhere she turned, she faced more evidence of Kainan’s exemplary leadership and the deep respect felt by all under The Sable Group’s command.
It sounded like the Sable Riders were the second coming of Pegasi’s long-gone Paladian gods.
She couldn’t get rid of the feeling she was the delusional one, that she’d been so wrong for believing he would have ever been interested in her. Why would a not-so-mortal god be interested in her? He had too much to do, too much to accomplish, and too many people to care for.
Damn!She was doing the one thing she’d promised herself years ago never to do. Which was belittling herself while placing a man on a pedestal.
Just then, the ambient light in the bar dimmed dramatically, and a pulse of blue and red heliograph flashed throughout the space.
It was the sign to get to their stations, maintain radio silence and avoid communication unless it was essential.
A quiet hush fell throughout the Phantasm.
It was GO time. With a shake of her head, Selene collected herself and rose to her feet. She tapped her wrist comm and swiped a payment and tip to the solemn-looking barman behind the counter. His till pinged, and he dipped his chin in appreciation. He saluted her with a fist-to-shoulder gesture that she returned.
Selene joined the wave of highly disciplined recruits and officers as they judiciously filed out of the bar. She wended her way back to the bridge, sliding through the blast doors unseen by Kainan, back to her assigned station on the upper deck.
She securely stored her bulky duffle bag in a locker above the station and strapped herself in case of sudden ship manoeuvres.
The screen looming over the bridge showed a cluster of Technocracy ships huddled together in close orbit over Dunia. Two massive capital ships and a couple of fighters. The third capital ship was on patrol on the shadowed side of Dunia. There was no indication they’d spotted any signs of infiltration.
This was because the Ghost fleet was approaching along a geodesic between Alphetraz and Dunia, effectively hiding their approach within the System’s brightest and noisiest astronomic phenomenon. Braking was made possible using a solar sail with the highest possible absorbance and adequate thrust of a maximum reflectance sail.
The Phantasm cruised at a higher elevation to the capital ships and the armada’s frigates, extending its sail cover over the fleet and giving it a panoramic view of the coming action. Kainan’s gunship, connected to Mirage’s AI controls on The Phantasm, flew next to the giant battleship, matching its every movement.
Selene watched as Kainan and his flight officers carefully tweaked the thrust, braking and propulsion controls. Their gazes switched between the holographic that showed the six stealth corvettes slipping past the blockade and the screens in front of them.
There was a palpable tension in the air when the six ships barely rippled through the sensor array.
‘Party time, Voids,’ Kainan whispered. He’d crossed his arms over his large chest with a hand gripping his chin and forefinger, tapping the side of his nostril in concentration as Notus I and II inconspicuously bore down on the capital vessels. ‘Show us what you’ve got.’
