Sawoot’s eyes grow wide. What I’m suggesting would kill dozens or hundreds of mine workers. While, obviously, I don’t have the resources to do this, I think Sawoot is both impressed and horrified that such a scheme even crossed my mind.
It has to, though. I might not be willing to kill hundreds of defenseless miners – but I have no doubt that a suitably-motivated Toad commander would.
“I raze the mining camps,” I continue, “and Aelon will be forced to send the rest of The Instigator’s resources to Tarrion to protect them, leaving nothing but a skeleton crew on board to protect this ship. The Instigator is strong, and well-defended – but without that protective fleet of small, manned Reavers, it would be reliant on las-cannons alone; and most of those have automated targeting systems.”
“Which are trash against smaller targets,” Sawoot nods.
“Exactly,” I nod. “I’d come at The Instigator with a squadron of fast-moving assault ships and rip this ship to shreds. You’ve seen how I can pilot – you know I could do it.”
“But you’re an exceptional pilot – none of the Toads could fly like you.”
“If you’ve got enough assault ships, and if they’re fast enough, they wouldn’t need to.”
Sawoot’s face turns pale.
“Fuck. That’s exactly what they’ll do, isn’t it? Toads wouldn’t think twice about killing hundreds of innocent miners to make a score like this – twenty-six mid-sized Orbs, plus the ones that power The Instigator.”
I nod.
“You need to warn Captain Aelon,” Sawoot gasps. “They could be on their way here right now.”
I laugh bitterly. How ironic is that?
My warning might save the life and ship of the very man who’s threatened to throw me over his lap and spank me tonight.
5
Aelon
I haven’t felt this off balance… ever.
Through the Bond we share, I can sense that Iunia is a hot ball of frustration as well, and even Vinicus is itching to release his frustration with a fight – and yet he’s actually calmer than his battle-brother.
“You’re putting us all at risk, Aelon!” Vinicus snarls. “The entire crew! Not to mention our reputation, and our status as legal members of the Aurelian Empire.”
Even angry, Vinicus states his points clearly. Whether it’s with his words, or the point of his Orb-Blade, Vinicus never fails to strike cleanly.
He’s done plenty of that recently. Today, down in the Scorp nests that infest Tarrion’s moon, he managed to earn himself a fresh, new scar to add to the crisscross of old wounds already adorning his muscular body.
Right now, shirtless and still wearing Scorp blood on his knuckles, Vinicus prepares to treat his wounds the old-fashioned way – stopping the bleeding and applying antibiotics; but keeping the battle marks rather than using our med-bay to regenerate his flesh and muscle. Vinicus wears the mark of every injury he’s ever received – each one a testament to every battle he’s survived.
I consider his accusation – that I’m putting us all at risk.
“Aye, I am.”
Vinicus laughs bitterly in response to my dry answer – but he appreciates my honesty. You can’t fight against honesty.
That’s why it’s the only way to debate with Vinicus. Whether the adversary is a Toad, human, or even another Aurelian, my battle-brother doesn’t care who you pit him against – as long as there’s a fight to be had. The only time he won’t accept your challenge is when you don’t offer him one.
I stand there and watch him as he finishes tending to his wounds, and then crosses our chambers to take a scalding-hot shower; washing away the blood and dirt of those Scorp nests.
Vinicus does all that in front of me, without shame or embarrassment from either of us. Naked, dripping wet, and with his cock swinging between his legs, my battle-brother busies himself freshening up after his long hours of combat.
But even when he’s finally showered and cleaned his wounds, Vinicus is still not fully relaxed. That’s typical, though. The only time I ever see my battle-brother’s aura calm and steady is when he’s facing off against a ten-feet-tall Scorp warrior, or shoving his Orb-Blade down a pirate’s throat.
I’m no stranger to that restlessness myself. I, too, ache for the blood of battle – but being Captain of The Instigator means I have to put the welfare of my crew in front of my own needs.
Which makes me even more of a hypocrite as I break my code of honor for this… this woman.
This frustrating, enticing woman – who’s left me questioning everything.
Tasha – Captain Tasha – is not your typical human woman, and I don’t just mean in terms of her piloting skills, sharp mind, or her ability to lead rough, chauvinistic men like those thugs who make up her mining crew.
Those men under her command don’t appreciate her leadership. I’m hoping tonight’s humiliating punishment will demonstrate to Tasha how worthless her crew is, and that she’ll cast them aside like the garbage they are. It will be a harsh lesson, but after having watched them snigger and smirk as she selflessly accepted the punishment they were due to receive, it’s a lesson I feel she needs to be taught.
Tonight will open her eyes to the truth. I was surprised when she accepted the shameful spanking in lieu of harsh, brutal lashes for her crew – but now I’m looking forward to administering it.
I turn to Vinicus. He’s still angry – but in admitting the risk I’m placing us under, he at least accepts that I’ve thought things through… to a point.
“She’s a firebrand, Vinicus,” I tell my battle-brother. “She’s young to be a captain, by the standards of their species, but she’s already demonstrated that she’s tougher and more capable than most.”
I lean toward my battle-brother.
“If Tasha is our Fated Mate, then all this risk will have been worth it.”
Our Fated Mate.
Iunia, Vinicus and I all agreed it was possible. My triad saw Tasha for only a few short minutes – and I’d spent barely much
