Chapter 7

7

T he next morning, Traax strode into the briefing room, the Latharian pilots instantly snapping to attention. His gaze scanned the room, taking in the mix of human and Latharian faces before settling on Major Reid. She was deep in discussion with her team, gesturing with her hands as she spoke.

As if sensing his presence, she glanced up, her gaze locking with his. The odd color of her eyes held him captive for a moment. They were unusual, very different from the blues, browns, and greens he was used to seeing in humans. He wondered if this was a trait unique to her, or if other humans had such striking features.

He made his way to the front of the room. The pilots were quiet, their postures straight and gazes fixed on him as he took his place beside the large holo-board at the front of the room.

"Major Reid," he said, his deep voice reverberating through the room. "Walk us through this human Boomerang Maneuver. I was reading up on it last night, and it's… interesting. I think this could be a good candidate for a cross-training exercise between our pilots. I want to make sure everyone in this room understands it inside and out."

She nodded, the slightest flicker of surprise on her face before she schooled her features into a neutral expression. Pushing to her feet, she moved to stand beside him, her smaller frame dwarfed by his larger one. It was a good thing she and the other humans flew their own fighters. They'd never reach the controls of a V'Pirus .

"The Boomerang is all about timing," she explained, her voice clear as it carried around the room. "We come in fast and low, hitting a hard arc to make them follow us. When we hit the apex, we break formation and go inverted to strike from multiple angles. It's chaos for the enemy but controlled chaos for us. Pay attention," she said as she turned to the holo-board, "and I'll walk you through it."

He perched on the edge of a nearby desk, his legs crossed at the ankles as he listened intently. He'd plucked the term from a quick scan of the files Daaynal had sent him on human flight techniques, but… draanth… he'd never seen anyone throw a fighter around like that, much less ones that were little more than engines strapped to wings.

Grudging admiration filled him as Reid broke down the maneuver into easily understandable steps. She had a talent for explaining complex ideas in a simple way that bordered on genius.

She finished her explanation, and he stepped forward.

"The major made that sound simple. However, it's anything but," he said sternly. "So don't get cocky. I've seen too many pilots blown to bits because they thought they had it all figured out. Stay sharp, stay focused, and never assume the enemy will play by your rules. Even in a friendly training exercise. Especially in a friendly training exercise," he added, shooting a little grin at the major.

"Lord Starfighter, Major Reid," one of the Latharian pilots said. "What if the enemy anticipates the maneuver? Shouldn't we have a backup plan?"

Traax glanced at Zara, wondering how she would respond. Was there a human counter to the maneuver she'd outlined?

She frowned, her unusual eyes narrowing as she considered the question.

"A backup plan is always good," she acknowledged, "but we can't get bogged down in what-ifs. We train for the Boomerang until it's instinctive... until we can do it in our sleep. Just as we do all the maneuvers. Then, in the heat of battle, your instincts will pick out what you need from your training."

Traax shook his head.

"No. You always have a contingency," he argued. "The enemy is not going to follow your script. They're going to do everything they can to kill you. You need to be prepared for that. You need to be three moves ahead of them all the time."

Anger flashed in the depths of her violet eyes.

"With all due respect, Lord Starfighter," she said, her voice tight. "We can't plan for every eventuality. At some point, we have to trust in our training and our instincts."

"And that's a good way to get yourself killed," he threw back. "You think the enemy cares about your instincts? They're going to exploit every weakness, every hesitation. You need to be ready for anything and everything."

"You can't control everything," she argued, her voice rising. "You'll drive yourself crazy trying. At some point, you have to let go and trust in your team."

Traax paused, struck by the force of her conviction. He had never encountered anyone so willing to stand up to him. Her defiance was both frustrating and intriguing.

She tackled the problem from an entirely different angle, her mind working in ways that were both foreign and fascinating to him. He wasn't going to admit that, though.

Straightening his shoulders, he turned to face the pilots again.

"You have your orders," he said. "I expect your best out there. Anything less, and you'll answer to me."

The pilots nodded, their expressions determined. Rising from their seats, they filed out of the room, footsteps echoing in the corridor outside until there was silence. Soon, only Traax and the major remained, the holographic board casting a soft blue glow over their features.

He slid her a sideways glance as she gathered her documents and dataflexes into the folder she carried around with her. He had to squash the sudden urge to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.

He clenched his fists at his sides. What was wrong with him?

Clearing his throat, he took a step back.

"We should go," he said, voice rough and raspy. "The pilots will be waiting for us."

"Of course." She nodded, her features schooled into a neutral expression. "After you, Lord Starfighter."

As they made their way to the flight deck, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had draanthed up somehow. Then anger hit him at the fact that he was even bothered about upsetting a human.

Humans were lesser, weaker and inferior to the Lathar.

But… Major Reid… Zara was different. She was a force to be reckoned with and as much as he didn't want to admit it, she fascinated him. She was a challenge, a puzzle to solve.

And he had never been one to back down from a challenge.

The blackness of space never failed to amaze her. It was tranquil and peaceful, and out here, she felt infinite, at one with the cosmos.

Zara took point as she and her team sped away from Devan Station. Below them, Earth glowed blue and green, a sight that always took her breath away, no matter how many times she saw it.

Latharian fighters flew beside them, their sleek, angular shapes a stark contrast to the more rounded human fighters. She'd never considered a Shadowbolt "cuddly" before, but compared to the vicious lines of the alien fighters, they were practically teddy bears.

She cut a sideways glance, admiring their deadly grace. She'd managed to get a glimpse inside one of their cockpits earlier. Nothing had been familiar, yet everything had, all at the same time. She knew, somehow, that if she had to, she would be able to pilot one.

"Alright, One-Ten," she said, her voice crackling over the comm. "Let's run through formation delta-six and then move into launching attack pattern india-two," she said, giving the official code for the Boomerang. "Remember, these guys have never seen it live, so keep it tight and watch your spacings."

A chorus of yeses sounded in her ear as her team moved into position, their fighters falling into perfect patrol formation behind her.

"Okay, bringing enemy sensor readings online. Latharian wing, fall in," she keyed the comm to order. "Initiate attack india-two in five… four… three…"

As she counted down, the Latharian fighters neatly slotted themselves into position between the human-piloted Shadowbolts. As they did, the "enemy" appeared on all their sensors, readings fed directly to them for the training exercise.

"Two… one… initiate!"

The combined squadron of sleek, agilefighters soared through space, their engines roaring as they descended upon the "enemy fleet" on sensors ahead of them. Moving in perfect unison, they swooped in fast and low, hugging the surface of a digital moon to evade detection.

They closed in, Zara ordering, "Hard arc now!"

As one, the fighters banked sharply into a tight, calculated arc. The enemy ships scrambled to respond and pursue.

Zara gritted her teeth as they hit the apex of the arc.

"Scatter and burn!" she ordered. "Give 'em hell!"

Someone whooped, probably Havoc, and the squadron broke formation, each fighter flipping into an inverted position as they went after different enemy targets. It was utter mayhem. The sudden shift turned the battlefield into a chaotic tangle of streaking laser fire and speeding metal.

Given that the Lathar had never done this maneuver before, Zara kept a close eye on them. She needn't have worried. They danced around each other, their movements almost too fast to follow. She had to admit, they were good. Better than good.

But then, one of them drifted too close to another, their wings nearly brushing as they sped through space.

"V-324, you're too close," she warned, using the designation on the side of the Latharian fighter since they didn't use callsigns. "Maintain proper spacing."

The pilot didn't respond, but she saw 324 pull away a little, putting more distance between them and his wingman. Zara allowed herself a sigh of relief. Even the smallest mistake could have disastrous consequences out here, and the last thing they needed was a collision this close to the station.

They continued on, running through a series of increasingly complex maneuvers that pushed the limits of both human and Latharian capabilities. The familiar rush of adrenaline coursed through Zara's veins as she pushed her fighter to its limits, the G-forces pressing her back into her seat as she sped through space.

"Kaaric, watch your six!" Havoc's voice snapped over the comm, her tone urgent. "You're about to spin out!"

Zara's head snapped around, her eyes widening as she saw the Latharian fighter in question. V-657 was wobbling dangerously, its movements erratic and uncontrolled. Before anyone could respond, it spun out of control, careening wildly through space.

Time seemed to slow down as Zara watched in horror, her heart pounding in her chest. Then 657 collided with one of the other Latharian fighters, and the impact sent them both tumbling through space. Debris scattered in all directions, glittering like deadly confetti as it caught the light of the sun.

"Shit!" Havoc cursed. "Kaaric's in a flat spin! He's headed straight for the satellite!"

Zara's jaw tightened, her stomach dropping as she saw the trajectory of Kaaric's fighter on her consoles. Havoc was right. He was on a collision course with one of Earth's upper atmosphere satellites, a massive structure that monitored weather patterns and communications around the globe.

If he hit it, the damage would be catastrophic. Not just to the satellite, it would take out half of the communications grid in the northern hemisphere, including contact with other satellites. If that happened, an untold number of satellites would lose telemetry data and literally fall out of the skies to rain death and destruction down onto the Earth below. She had to act fast, had to find a way to stop him before it was too late.

Her mind raced, scenarios flashing through in a heartbeat. Shoot him down? Too risky, the satellite was too close. Warn him? Talk him through regaining control? Not enough time. She bit back a curse, frustration gnawing at her. Every option was a gamble, and the clock was ticking.

That left only one option…

"I'm going after him," she said, her voice clipped. No nonsense. "Nova, take command."

"But, Ghost—" Nova began to protest, but Zara cut her off.

"No buts," she said. "I'm the only one with a chance of catching him in time. Just keep everyone else clear and pray this fucking works. If it doesn't, take us both out before we hit that satellite."

With that, she gunned her engines, breaking formation and racing toward Kaaric's stricken fighter. Shouts from her team filled her ears, but she shut them out, focusing all her attention on the task at hand.

As she closed in, the damage to Kaaric's ship came into focus. It wasn't a pretty sight. One wing had sheared off in the collision, sending the fighter into a wild spin. Sparks danced along the hull, signaling failing systems and ruptured power lines.

She gritted her teeth, her hands tightening on the controls as she pushed her fighter to its limits. G-forces pressed her back into her seat, making it hard to breathe, but she ignored the discomfort, her eyes locked on her target.

She had to time this just right… had to get close enough to use her fighter's repulsor beams without getting caught in the debris field swirling around Kaaric's fighter like a tornado. It was like threading a needle at hypersonic speeds, a feat that should have been suicide… would have been suicide for anyone else.

But she wasn't just anyone. She was one of the best damned pilots in the galaxy, both before and after they'd realized how damn big it was, and no way was she going to let some asshole spinning hunk of metal beat her.

With a flick of her wrist, she activated the repulsor beams, feeling their familiar hum as they powered up. She angled them toward Kaaric's fighter, trying to slow its spin to buy herself a few precious seconds to get into position.

The beams had some effect, but it wasn't anywhere near enough. The other fighter continued to spin, still hurtling toward the satellite. She cursed under her breath, her mind racing for a new plan.

"Fuck it," she growled. "In for a penny…"

Moving her fighter above Kaaric's, she activated the electro-tether, locking on to his ship with a jolt that almost threw her off course. She gritted her teeth, her arms straining as the controls bucked and resisted her grip. The muscles in her shoulders and back tensed until they were rock-hard, every tendon and sinew stretched to the limit as she fought to regain control for both of them.

Sweat trickled down her temples, her knuckles white. The two ships spun wildly through the void, locked in a deadly embrace.

But then… slowly… painfully, she began to stabilize the spin, using a combination of repulsor beams and electro-tethers to bring it under control. It was like wrestling an angry beast, each movement demanding every ounce of skill and strength she had.

She released the breath she'd been holding, her heart roaring in her ears as she eased off the controls.

"You did it," Havoc's voice crackled over the comm, relief in her tone. "Fucking hell, boss… you actually did it."

"Oh ye of little faith." Zara grinned and then keyed the comm to open a channel to the station. "Devan Station, this is Ghost. I'm coming in hot with a damaged fighter in tow. Clear the main bay and have medical standing by."

"Copy that, Ghost," came the clipped reply. The voice was professional, but she knew the chaos that would be erupting on the flight deck as they readied for her arrival. "We'll be ready for you."

As they approached the station, her breath came in short, controlled bursts.

She flipped the comm switch again. "Kaaric, do you read me? Kaaric!"

Silence. Biting back a curse, she switched back to flight control. "Flight control, this is Ghost. The other pilot is nonresponsive. Repeat, nonresponsive."

"Copy that, Ghost. Bay doors opening, you are cleared to land."

She watched as the massive bay doors slowly parted, revealing a bright, inviting scene against the dull expanse of the station's metal hull. She focused on the landing runway as crews scrambled, hastily clearing fighters and equipment out of the way. Her gaze locked on to the medical teams, their bright orange sashes a stark contrast to the gray metal of the deck, ready and waiting. Good. She had no idea what condition Kaaric was in, but it couldn't be good.

With gritted teeth, she held their path steady, guiding both fighters toward the bay. The larger fighter bucked and wavered under her control, forcing her to wrestle with the controls to keep it steady. Every muscle in her body strained as she maintained the delicate balance, the beams connecting them roaring with effort.

The bay loomed closer, and with a deft touch, she guided Kaaric's fighter into the docking area, setting it down as gently as she could on the deck. The moment it touched down, she disengaged and lifted her Shadowbolt off with practiced precision, gliding it over the deck to land further away.

The landing gear hissed as it made contact with the metal surface, and she felt the familiar jolt of touchdown. She exhaled sharply, relief washing over her.

As soon it was safely down, emergency crews swarmed Kaaric's fighter.

She yanked on her canopy controls, hearing the hiss and whir as the cockpit canopy disengaged and lifted open, allowing her to climb out. Without wasting a second, she leaped from the cockpit and raced across the deck toward Kaaric's fighter.

As she approached, she saw the medics carefully lifting the latharian pilot out of the cockpit, his limp body strapped to a stretcher. For a moment, her heart stopped. Had she been too late?

But then she saw his chest rise and fall followed by a flicker of movement behind his closed eyelids. Relief flooded through her. He was alive. Injured, but alive.

Her hands trembled slightly as she removed her helmet. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the reality of what had just happened hit her like a punch to the gut.

She had saved his life, but just barely. The satellite loomed in her mind's eye and she shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if she hadn't been fast enough, skilled enough, lucky enough.

As she turned to walk toward the med bay, a large hand clamped down on her shoulder, spinning her around. She found herself face to face with Traax, his amber eyes blazing with fury.

"What were you thinking?" he bellowed, his deep voice echoing across the flight deck. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"

She wrenched her shoulder out of his grasp, her own anger rising to meet his. "What was I supposed to do?" she snapped. "Let him die?"

"Yes!" Traax roared, his face twisted with fury. "You should have let his own stupidity kill him!"

She recoiled as if he had slapped her. What the actual…

"I can't believe you just said that," she said, her voice low and dangerous as she controlled her temper. It was that or try and tear him apart. She wasn't stupid enough to think she could win that particular fight. "I'm a pilot, Lord Starfighter. It's my job to save lives, not stand by and let people die."

"Your job is to follow orders," Traax growled, looming over. "You're reckless, undisciplined. You put yourself and your entire team at risk with that little stunt."

She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, the urge to punch him almost overwhelming.

"I did what I had to do," she bit out through gritted teeth. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. A heartbeat."

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching. For a long moment, they stood there, toe to toe, the tension between them crackling like electricity.

She gave a snort of disgust.

"I don't have time for this shit," she said, turning to storm away.

She hadn't gotten more than a few steps before heavy footsteps caught up to her. She whirled to face him, ready to continue their argument, but the words died on her lips as he grabbed her by the arms and yanked her toward him.

His mouth crashed down on hers, harsh and demanding as his teeth scraped against her lower lip. She froze as shock and something else, something hot and primal, raced through her veins. Then she snapped. With a low moan, she fisted her hands in the front of his flight suit, pulling him closer to kiss him back.

The kiss was a battle, a clash of teeth, tongues and raw, unfiltered need. His large hands slid down her back, gripping her hips and hauling her against him. She moaned softly as the hard planes of his larger body fit perfectly against her softer curves.

She nipped at his lower lip, his answer a deep growl from the center of his chest. Her mind reeled, trying to make sense of what was happening, but her body had a mind of its own, responding to his touch with a need that left her breathless.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

He wrenched himself away from her, his chest heaving and his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn't name. He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he turned and strode away, leaving her alone in the corridor.

She looked after him, her eyes wide as she lifted her hand to lips that tingled from the touch of his…