CHAPTER 28

March glares at us, pacing.

As the responsible parties, Hit, Dina, and I have been formally reprimanded. Let me just say—I don’t much like having him in a position of authority over me. And he doesn’t seem to care that it worked out for the best.

“If I am in charge here,” he says in slow, measured tones, “then I am in charge. You don’t so much as schedule a bowel movement without my clearance. Anyone who doesn’t like the way I run things can get out. I mean it—pack your bags and get off Emry because I’m not putting up with this kind of insubordination from my officers.”

Technically, I haven’t accepted any field promotion, but I figure this isn’t the time to argue with him. I’ve never seen him so angry.

He continues. “What do you think this does to my authority with the rank and file? If my trusted staff treats me like a fragging joke, then how do I enforce discipline here? In case you hadn’t noticed, this is a military training installation, and we are at war.”

Well, yes. And we just won the first skirmish. I realize I shouldn’t point that out.

“I’m sorry,” Dina says. “I didn’t think. I should have cleared the mission with you beforehand, however harmless I believed it to be.”

Her humble tone doesn’t fool me for a minute. She thought he’d say no, deeming it too great a risk to me, and frankly, so did I. We intentionally went around his authority, which I suspect is why he’s so pissed off. Listening to his tirade about how we’re lower than slime, I try to look chastened. I don’t think it works, however, because when his rant winds down, he dismisses the other two—having grounded them until further notice—but he asks me to stay. His expression cures me of the notion it’s for personal reasons; I’ve seldom seen him so angry.

March stands before me, hands locked behind him. It’s an intimidating pose, showing off his biceps and broad shoulders. “I need you to take this seriously, Jax. If you can’t respect me as your commander, then I’m booting you off my team. You can stay here on Emry until you find some other ship to carry you, but it won’t be one of mine.”

That’s when it sinks in—he means it. He has the power to ground me. Maybe up until now, I secretly thought the fact that we’re lovers would protect me—that I could get around him—but it’s not true. March is my lover only in our off-hours. Right now, he’ll boot me if I smile at him wrong. Since it would kill me if he leaves me behind again, I can’t let that happen. I have to prove I can be a good soldier, who respects chain of command, however much it chafes.

The old Jax would whine and insist it wasn’t her fault. She’d blame Dina and offer a load of smart-mouthed excuses. I lower my head. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

His posture eases. “That said, you acquitted yourself admirably out there. It may make all the difference, buying us the time we need to finish up here.”

“We need Dina to perfect that direct-jump mod.”

“There’s no guarantee she can get it done before we have to start patrols, and I can’t factor it into the rotation.”

My brows go up. “You’re already working on the schedule?”

March nods. “I’m assigning sectors today. You want to help?”

“Trying to keep me out of trouble?”

“Partly,” he admits. “But I could use a hand, and I feel like I’ve hardly seen you.”

It’s true. All the training and preparation has kept us from doing more than falling into each other’s arms at the beginning of the sleep cycle. These days, we do little other than sleep together. Who has the energy for anything else? I keep my eyes fixed on the brightness that surely lies ahead. Our life together won’t always be like this. We just have to stay strong and fight through. I don’t like considering the alternative—that we were born for strife, and we will never clear the darkness.

“Lead the way.”

March heads for the commander’s ready room, a fancy way of saying “another converted conference room.” We won’t be interrupted unless more Morgut ships come calling. He brings up the array of data in 3-D, then Constance materializes. She’s been helping him a great deal, I collect, and I suffer a small pang, knowing she’s no longer just mine. But she seems to be thriving, pleased at being so useful, if such an emotional response can rightly be credited to an AI.

“Greetings, Sirantha Jax. You seem to be recovered from your incapacitation.”

“Mostly,” I answer. “I don’t think I lost too many brain cells.”

“Shall I scan you to determine the amount of retained cognitive function?”

I laugh softly. “Not necessary, but thanks. You like working with March?”

“I enjoy having access to station resources in addition to the facilities on the Triumph. I am able to complete my research in a miniscule amount of time.”

“Speaking of which, did you place the order for the uniforms?” It seems like ages ago that she got those numbers for me. After endless scrutiny and committee action, we went with a manufacturer with a satellite factory orbiting a moon in the Outskirts. No planetary tariffs, and they deliver.

“Affirmative.”

“Dahlgren,” March barks into the comm. “I want two cups of hot choclaste, and they better still be steaming.”

That answers what price Argus paid for his collusion, though to be fair, the poor kid hardly had a choice. He just happened to be on the ship when we took it out. Still, he could’ve done a lot worse than serving as the commander’s dogsbody.

Once we’re settled, beverages to hand, we go over the information. March sums up his intentions, and I listen, thoughtful.

“Do they know?” I ask at last, referring to Dina and Hit.

He shakes his head. “Not yet. But we need her on the Triumph. With Surge staying with Siri, Koratati needs a pilot. So I’ve assigned Hit to the Sweet Sensation. They’ll be responsible for patrolling the Gamma Omega galaxy.”

I stifle a smirk. Some of the smugglers’ vessels are former pleasure yachts, hijacked—and never renamed—out of some overdeveloped sense of irony or possibly . . . sheer laziness. You can never tell with pirates.

“That’s a lot of ground to cover.” I don’t belabor our need for Dina’s updated phase drive; we can’t pin our hopes on an innovation when the technology hasn’t been improved since we first discovered it. Sometimes you just have to make do and hope it’s enough.

“Agreed.”

“You assigned all the pilot jumper pairs, then?”

“I maintained the initial bonds whenever possible. Jory stays with Hon for instance. Hit and Kora are a rare case.”

“How sensitive of you, Commander.” I try for a light tone, but I don’t pull it off.

Dina and Hit aren’t going to be thrilled about splitting up, but I understand the logic behind the decision. Desolation prickles at the edges of my vision. It feels like everything is coming to an end; we’re splitting into fragments, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

His subsequent words only worsen my mood. “I wanted to give you warning, as I know you’re closest to him. Chancellor Tarn has a new assignment for Velith.”

“You’re joking.” He has to be. My chest tightens at the idea of losing Vel.

I would never say this aloud, not even to March, but Vel has been there for me, ever since we holed up together in that icy cave on the Teresengi Basin. He’s never wavered. Never faltered. Never doubted me. I’ve never had a friend like that—or known a devotion so deep it goes beyond species or sex. I don’t even know what he is to me, really, but he’s been my rock. And now I’m about to lose him; at least it feels that way.

“I wish I were. There’s been a new ambassador appointed for Ithiss-Tor, a permanent one, and he pleads for his aid as cultural liaison.”

“He won’t go,” I say. “He won’t leave me.”

March levels a grave look on me that says I’m being childish. “He would if you asked him to. We need to learn the status of their fleet . . . and if they have any intention of lending their aid, if the alliance is trade-only. When we fled the planet, we left a number of issues unresolved.”

“Very well. I’ll ask him.” I can’t promise more than that. Mary herself couldn’t move Velith without his will.

Moving on, he indicates a spot on the 3-D star chart. “The Dauntless will take Delta Tau. Our ship, the Triumph, will rove between Sigma Psi and Pi Theta.”

“The biggest ship gets the widest range?” I ask.

“Not only that.” March leans forward, elbows on the table. “I have to preface this by saying, as the man who loves you, I’m unilaterally opposed to this. I’d rather you stay here with Siri and Surge.” His gaze locks on mine, sparking gold with intensity. He means it.

“But as my commander?” I prompt.

“I accept that I can’t change the woman you are,” he answers heavily. “So if you’re set on jumping, set on getting that experimental implant, then you may be able to perform direct jumps as a matter of course. Dr. Dasad told me that she thinks the nanites can be upgraded to interface with the regulator, assisting your mutation in regenerating you without the need for a healing trance.”

A chill washes through me. “So we can ride to the rescue anywhere, jump like the Morgut do . . . without suffering an aneurysm each time?”

Will the pain remain, I wonder, if not the hard damage? Maybe they can install some neural blockers as well, so I can’t feel it. At this rate, it won’t be much longer before I cease being human at all. I try to contain my fear, knowing there’s no place for it here.

I am a good soldier.

“That’s the goal,” he confirms. “You’ll be our secret weapon.”

Oh, dear Mary. I don’t like the sound of that.