Drelix

Sweat rolls off me as I struggle to contain my shift within the gyik flyer. There's no way it's big enough to contain me, even partially shifted, and I can't risk damaging it, not if I'm going to follow the Habosu scout craft as it heads to the nearest wormhole. One my mapping system tells me will lead deep into Habosu controlled space.

I can survive in the vacuum of space, but I cannot travel within it and speed is the key.

"Drelix. Report." My holo com springs into life with an image of Drega.

The last nevving Sarkarnii I want to see. I grit my teeth as a fresh bout of sweat breaks out over my body, the heat contained within my scales intense.

I didn't know it was possible to be in physical pain from the rut, but I am. Every atom of my body, every scale, every part of me aches, burns, and needs to be with Crystal.

"The Habosu have my mate. I have the information from the Uhatx." I hold up the vid-screen, although the words stick in my throat. I do not want to speak. I made my vow so many nova-years ago because I failed, and I've failed again. Speaking is not something I wish to do anymore. "I'll upload it to the Golden Orion, and Draco can do with it what he will. I will meet you with the quantum booster as soon as I can."

"Return to the ship, Drelix. We can assist you in finding your mate."

"No. They're about to go through the wormhole. If they do, I will have lost her." This time the words run out of me like water. "I cannot lose her."

"Return to the Golden Orion, Drelix. That's an order," Drega says.

"And you know what you can do with your orders," I snarl as I terminate the comm and lock out his frequency.

I toss the vid screen onto the console, and it automatically sends the information it contains to my fellow Sarkarnii.

I don't care about revenge for the Sarkarnii anymore. I care about getting to Crystal, to stop the pain which wracks me and the agony of being apart from her. When I get to the Habosu who took her, if they've hurt her at all, my rage will rival that of a supernova.

I will destroy them all. I will ensure nothing survives, not even the stain of their existence.

Made all the worse because she didn't understand why I had to fight in the dome, and yet she let me go anyway. I've gotten so used to forging my own path, I didn't think to let her in on what my plan was.

The fact I knew all of this was a trap for a Sarkarnii. The fact I've been allowing the creature who wants us, who engineered the destruction of most of our species, to slowly draw me in.

I thought I wanted this. I thought getting to the heart of it all would settle my soul, appease my ancestors. Make my family who reside with them proud.

That was the Haisarkarnii priest within me.

Now all I have is the rut and the need to be with my mate or I will surely, surely die.

I failed to pick my battles. I failed to see what I should have seen the second I set eyes on her in the grubby space station.

My salvation. My heartsfire.

I slam my hand into the console with frustration and rage. I want to shift so badly it burns.

"Wormhole P-1274 approaching,"the flyer chimes at me.

I swallow down everything. I have to concentrate.

"Any other ships in the vicinity?"

"Habosu, scout class,"it responds.

It can only be the ship containing my mate.

"Wormhole activated."

"Nev!" I increase the speed of the flyer and the darkness of the wormhole comes into stark clarity as the mist of the nearby nebula dissipates around the time being bent by the anomaly.

A bright spot hovers as the hole itself spins with the activation. If I'm not swifter, I will never know where it went.

"Lock on to that craft," I shout as the engine of the flyer whines up to maximum propulsion.

I have to get to her. I have to get to my mate.

The rage is gone. All I have is desperation. The need to hold her, mate her, be with her until the very end of time.

"Wormhole open."

"Are we locked on?" I don't want to take my eyes off the ship for an instant to check my instruments.

"Locking on."

"I need the coordinates. Now!" I growl at the flyer.

There is a spear of light, a feeling of time being crushed, and the wormhole takes the ship and my mate.

"Did we get it? Did we get the coordinates?" I yell, increasing my speed to well past the capacity of the flyer engine.

The blackness of the wormhole looms at me. It is empty.

"Did we get it?" I growl out.

"Coordinates lost,"the flyer intones.

I am not responsible for what is now unleashed.