deceased while on deep-space exploration assignments. Seventy-nine
percent were reported deceased exactly six months after their last
transmission.”
Exactly six months? Darius dropped his favorite
dagger and the metal clinked against the console. That’s impossible. “What were the locations of their last transmission?”
“Seventy-nine percent originated from sectors not maintained
by either Balazoid or Federation forces. Fifty-three—”
“Stop report.” All of the transmissions ended in No
Man’s-Land. Darius charted a route to its closest sector, the destination
behind them, farther away from his home planet.
Home, a place where Drecks are equal.
Darius straightened in his seat, excitement zapping along
his spine, the theory he thought wild no longer impossible. “Ship, display the
detailed file of the last Dreck deemed deceased while on a deep-space
exploration assignment.”
“Access denied.” The viewscreen flashed red in warning.
“Attempt to access file flagged. My scans didn’t detect the flag prior to
attempting access and I am unable to suppress the report.”
Fuck. Darius gritted his teeth, dreading the upcoming
confrontation.
“ Balazoid system security is requesting we open
hailing frequencies, Captain.”
“Comply.” Darius erased the emotion from his face.
“Greetings, Operative Dreck.” The viewscreen displayed a Balazoid years Darius’ junior. “Commander Puxa of Balazoid system security
speaking.” The kid smirked as he relayed his superior rank, even the most
inexperienced Balazoid outranking a Dreck . “What is your reason
for accessing this closed file?”
“Commander Puxa.” Darius inclined his head, struggling to
control his irritation. “I have information indicating a possible threat
originating from sectors beyond Balazoid and Federation control.” He met
and held the young officer’s gaze. “Have we suffered unexplainable losses of
ships in those sectors?”
The Balazoid ’s gaze shifted to the left. “There have
been no unexplainable losses.” He tapped his fingers on the console. “Sources
indicate an unauthorized passenger on board your vessel. Please return to Balazoid to dispose of it.”
That bastard Grok must be the source. Darius stared
straight into the viewscreen. “The female didn’t survive the interrogation,” he
lied, deflecting the commander’s focus away from Sabria, their ship safely out
of range of Balazoid life-form scanners. “I have jettisoned the remains
to avoid contamination.”
“This will be noted in your file, Operative Dreck.” The
boy’s lips twisted, his tone curt. “You are requested to return to Balazoid for debriefing.”
I never return to Balazoid after an assignment. While Darius’ gut screamed warnings, his gaze didn’t waver. “I will return to Balazoid after investigating the threat,” Darius relayed brusquely. The younger Balazoid opened his mouth. “The threat level is high,” Darius continued. “I won’t risk
my home for a debrief.”
Commander Puxa frowned. “What is the nature of this threat?”
Fuck. What warranted this suspicion? “I don’t wish to
discuss it over open communication lines.”
The Balazoid glanced behind him as though receiving
instruction from someone else. He nodded, returning his gaze to Darius. “These
lines are secured. What is the threat?”
Once I tell them the threat, I’ll no longer have any
value. “The operative extracted her information from these supposedly
secure lines,” Darius barked. “I will debrief upon return to Balazoid .”
“Operative Dreck—”
“This line is not secure. Relaying more information puts Balazoid and my life in danger.”
“We can’t put Balazoid in danger,” the commander
agreed. “Return to the planet immediately, Operative Dreck. This is a direct
order. You will be debriefed upon arrival. End transmission.”
“Fuck that order,” Darius growled. “Ship, reroute us to the
origin of the missing Dreck ship’s
percent were reported deceased exactly six months after their last
transmission.”
Exactly six months? Darius dropped his favorite
dagger and the metal clinked against the console. That’s impossible. “What were the locations of their last transmission?”
“Seventy-nine percent originated from sectors not maintained
by either Balazoid or Federation forces. Fifty-three—”
“Stop report.” All of the transmissions ended in No
Man’s-Land. Darius charted a route to its closest sector, the destination
behind them, farther away from his home planet.
Home, a place where Drecks are equal.
Darius straightened in his seat, excitement zapping along
his spine, the theory he thought wild no longer impossible. “Ship, display the
detailed file of the last Dreck deemed deceased while on a deep-space
exploration assignment.”
“Access denied.” The viewscreen flashed red in warning.
“Attempt to access file flagged. My scans didn’t detect the flag prior to
attempting access and I am unable to suppress the report.”
Fuck. Darius gritted his teeth, dreading the upcoming
confrontation.
“ Balazoid system security is requesting we open
hailing frequencies, Captain.”
“Comply.” Darius erased the emotion from his face.
“Greetings, Operative Dreck.” The viewscreen displayed a Balazoid years Darius’ junior. “Commander Puxa of Balazoid system security
speaking.” The kid smirked as he relayed his superior rank, even the most
inexperienced Balazoid outranking a Dreck . “What is your reason
for accessing this closed file?”
“Commander Puxa.” Darius inclined his head, struggling to
control his irritation. “I have information indicating a possible threat
originating from sectors beyond Balazoid and Federation control.” He met
and held the young officer’s gaze. “Have we suffered unexplainable losses of
ships in those sectors?”
The Balazoid ’s gaze shifted to the left. “There have
been no unexplainable losses.” He tapped his fingers on the console. “Sources
indicate an unauthorized passenger on board your vessel. Please return to Balazoid to dispose of it.”
That bastard Grok must be the source. Darius stared
straight into the viewscreen. “The female didn’t survive the interrogation,” he
lied, deflecting the commander’s focus away from Sabria, their ship safely out
of range of Balazoid life-form scanners. “I have jettisoned the remains
to avoid contamination.”
“This will be noted in your file, Operative Dreck.” The
boy’s lips twisted, his tone curt. “You are requested to return to Balazoid for debriefing.”
I never return to Balazoid after an assignment. While Darius’ gut screamed warnings, his gaze didn’t waver. “I will return to Balazoid after investigating the threat,” Darius relayed brusquely. The younger Balazoid opened his mouth. “The threat level is high,” Darius continued. “I won’t risk
my home for a debrief.”
Commander Puxa frowned. “What is the nature of this threat?”
Fuck. What warranted this suspicion? “I don’t wish to
discuss it over open communication lines.”
The Balazoid glanced behind him as though receiving
instruction from someone else. He nodded, returning his gaze to Darius. “These
lines are secured. What is the threat?”
Once I tell them the threat, I’ll no longer have any
value. “The operative extracted her information from these supposedly
secure lines,” Darius barked. “I will debrief upon return to Balazoid .”
“Operative Dreck—”
“This line is not secure. Relaying more information puts Balazoid and my life in danger.”
“We can’t put Balazoid in danger,” the commander
agreed. “Return to the planet immediately, Operative Dreck. This is a direct
order. You will be debriefed upon arrival. End transmission.”
“Fuck that order,” Darius growled. “Ship, reroute us to the
origin of the missing Dreck ship’s
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