by Hacket, Anna
Yep, Eve was well aware that the people you cared for most either left you, or let you down. The employer you worked your ass off for treated you like shit. The only two people in the galaxy that didn’t apply to were her sisters.
Eve pushed thoughts of her parents away. Instead, she scanned the starship. The Polaris was a good ship. A mid-size cruiser, she was designed for exploration, but well-armed as well. Eve guessed they’d be heading out beyond Neptune about now.
The plan was for the Polaris to take her to the edge of Eon space, where she’d take a tiny, two-person stealth ship, sneak up to the Desteron, then steal onboard.
Piece of cake. She rolled her eyes.
Back in her small cabin, she took a quick shower, dressed, and then headed to the ops room. It was a small room close to the bridge that the ship’s captain had made available to her.
She stepped inside, and all the screens flickered to life. A light table stood in the center of the room, and everything was filled with every scrap of intel that the Space Corps had on the Eon Empire, their warriors, the Desteron, and War Commander Thann-Eon.
It was more than she’d guessed. A lot of it had been classified. There was fascinating intel on the four Eon homeworld planets—Eon, Jad, Felis, and Ath. Each Eon warrior carried their homeworld in their name, along with their clan names. The war commander hailed from the planet Eon, and Thann was a clan known as a warrior clan.
Eve swiped her fingers across the light table and studied pictures of the Desteron. They were a few years old and taken from a great distance, but that didn’t hide the warship’s power.
It was fearsome. Black, sleek, and impressive. It was built for speed and stealth, but also power. It had to be packed with weapons beyond their imagination.
She touched the screen again and slid the image to the side. Another image appeared—the only known picture of War Commander Thann-Eon.
Jesus. The man packed a punch. All Eon warriors looked alike—big, broad-shouldered, muscular. They all had longish hair—not quite reaching the shoulders, but not cut short, either. Their hair usually ranged from dark brown to a tawny, golden-brown. There was no black or blond hair among the Eon. Their skin color ranged from dark-brown to light-brown, as well.
Before first contact had gone sour, both sides had done some DNA testing, and confirmed the Eon and Terrans shared an ancestor.
The war commander was wearing a pitch-black, sleeveless uniform. He was tall, built, with long legs and powerful thighs. He was exactly the kind of man you expected to stride onto a battlefield, pull a sword, and slaughter everyone. He had a strong face, one that shouted power. Eve stroked a finger over the image. He had a square jaw, a straight, almost aggressive nose, and a well-formed brow. His eyes were as dark as space, but shot through with intriguing threads of blue.
“It’s you and me, War Commander.” If he didn’t kill her, first.
Suddenly, sirens blared.
Eve didn’t stop to think. She slammed out of the ops room and sprinted onto the bridge.
Inside, the large room was a flurry of activity.
Captain Chen stood in the center of the space, barking orders at his crew.
Her heart contracted. God, she’d missed this so much. The vibration of the ship beneath her feet, her team around her, even the scent of recycled starship air.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” a sharp voice snapped.
Eve turned, locking gazes with the stocky, bearded XO. Sub-Captain Porter wasn’t a fan of hers.
“Leave her,” Captain Chen told his second-in-command. “She’s seen more Kantos ships than all of us combined.”
The captain looked back at his team. “Shields up.”
Eve studied the screen and the Kantos ship approaching.
It looked like a bug. It had large, outstretched legs, and a bulky, segmented, central fuselage. It wasn’t the biggest ship she’d seen, but it wasn’t small, either. It was probably out on some intel mission.
“Sir,” a female voice called out. “We’re getting a distress call from the Panama, a cargo ship en route to Nightingale Space Station. They’re under attack from a swarm of small Kantos ships.”
Eve sucked in a breath, her hand curling into a fist. This was a usual Kantos tactic. They would overwhelm a ship with their small swarm ships. It had ugly memories of the Haumea Incident stabbing at her.
“Open the comms channel,” the captain ordered.
“Please…help us.” A harried man’s voice came over the distorted comm line. “…can’t hold out much…thirty-seven crew onboard…we are…”
Suddenly, a huge explosion of light flared in the distance.
Eve’s shoulders sagged. The cargo ship was gone.
“Goddammit,” the XO bit out.
The front legs of the larger Kantos ship in front of them started to glow orange.
“They’re going to fire,” Eve said.
The captain straightened. “Evasive maneuvers.”
His crew raced to obey the orders, the Polaris veering suddenly to the right.
“The swarm ships will be on their way back.” Eve knew the Kantos loved to swarm like locusts.
“Release the tridents,” the captain said.
Good. Eve watched the small, triple-pronged space mines rain out the side of the ship. They’d be a dangerous minefield for the Kantos swarm.
The main Kantos ship swung around.
“They’re locking weapons,” someone shouted.
Eve fought the need to shout out orders and offer the captain advice. Last time she’d done that, she’d ended up in shackles.
The blast hit the Polaris, the shields lighting up from the impact. The ship shuddered.
“Shields holding, but depleting,” another crew member called out.
“Sub-Captain Traynor?” The captain’s dark gaze met hers.
Something loosened in her chest. “It’s a raider-class cruiser, Captain. You’re smaller and more maneuverable. You need to circle around it, spray it with laser fire. Its weak spots are on the sides. Sustained laser fire will eventually tear it open. You also need to avoid the legs.”
“Fly circles around it?” a young man at a console said. “That’s crazy.”
Eve eyed the lead pilot. “You up for this?”
The man swallowed. “I don’t think I can…”
“Sure you can, if you want us to survive this.”
“Walker, do it,” the captain barked.
The pilot pulled in a breath and the Polaris surged forward. They rounded the Kantos ship. Up close, the bronze-brown hull looked just like the carapace of an insect. One of the legs swung up, but Walker had quick reflexes.
“Fire,” Eve said.
The weapons officer started firing. Laser fire hit the Kantos ship in a pretty row of orange.
“Keep going,” Eve urged.
They circled the ship, firing non-stop.
Eve crossed her arms over her chest. Everything in her was still, but alive, filled with energy. She’d always known she was born to stand on the bridge of a starship.
“More,” she urged. “Keep firing.”
“Swarm ships incoming,” a crew member yelled.
“Hold,” Eve said calmly. “Trust the mines.” She eyed the perspiring weapons officer. “What’s your name, Lieutenant?”
“Law, ma’am. Lieutenant Miriam Law.”
“You’re doing fine, Law. Ignore the swarm ships and keep firing on the cruiser.”
The swarm ships rushed closer, then hit the field of mines. Eve saw the explosions, like brightly colored pops of fireworks.
The lasers kept cutting into the hull of the larger Kantos ship. She watched the ship’s engines fire. They were going to try and make a run for it.
“Bring us around, Walker. Fire everything you have, Law.”
They swung around to face the side of the Kantos ship straight on. The laser ripped into the hull.
There was a blinding flash of light, and startled exclamations filled the
bridge. She squinted until the light faded away.
On the screen, the Kantos ship broke up into pieces.
Captain Chen released a breath. “Thank you, Sub-Captain.”
Eve inclined her head. She glanced at the silent crew. “Good flying, Walker. And excellent shooting, Law.”
But she looked back at the screen, at the debris hanging in space and the last of the swarm ships retreating.
They’d keep coming. No matter what. It was ingrained in the Kantos to destroy.
They had to be stopped.
Chapter Two
War Commander Davion Thann-Eon strode down the corridor of his warship, boots echoing on the black metal floor.
He passed several warriors, and as soon as they saw him, they snapped to attention.
He nodded at them and kept moving. When he stepped onto his bridge, he scanned the tiered levels and stations manned by his elite warriors.
“War Commander on the bridge,” his second-in-command called out.
Gazes swung his way, spines snapped straight.
Davion lifted a hand and waved at them. They all turned back to their screens.
Every warrior wore the same outfit that Davion did—black pants tucked into boots, with a sleeveless, fitted black shirt that stretched over muscled bodies. Davion had several blue, circular pips on his collar denoting his rank, and the others had less or different designs depending on their rank and functions.
He was the youngest war commander in Eon history. From the day he’d entered the Eon Military Academy, he’d excelled and outstripped his fellow recruits. He was exceptionally good at what he did, and dedicated to protecting the Eon Empire.
“Ready for your vacation?”
The deep voice made him look at Brack, his second and one of his closest friends. It was almost like looking in a mirror.
Brack Thann-Felis was the same height as Davion, slightly leaner, with the exact same shade of dark-brown hair and the same blue-black eyes. He was from the Thann clan, so that explained the similar looks, but his family hailed from the planet Felis.
“I’m looking forward to hunting.” Davion couldn’t remember the last time he’d had any days off. His job was a busy one and when he wasn’t aboard the Desteron or engaged in military operations, there were always meetings, treaties to sign, strategic operations to plan. His life was his work, what he was good at, and his people had his loyalty.
Brack rolled his eyes. “Most warriors head to a pleasure planet for vacation, Davion. They swim, eat, and fuck. They do not head to the most dangerous hunter planet in the quadrant.”
Davion smiled. “You know I like a challenge.” No, he loved a challenge. He loved pushing himself to the limit, physically and mentally.
Brack shook his head, his long hair brushing his jaw.
“Anything to report?” Davion asked.
Brack’s face turned serious. “Yes. Caze?”
Caze Vann-Jad stepped forward. His hair was longer, framing a sharply handsome face, and his eyes were threaded with silver. Caze was the warrior any Eon would want at their back in a fight. All Eon were muscular, but the Security Commander’s body was honed to a weapon.
“Long-range scanners picked up a Kantos signature,” Caze said.
Davion scowled. He detested the hungry, greedy, disorganized Kantos. They used their numbers to overwhelm, and possessed little strategy or skill.
“In Eon space?”
Caze shook his head. “Just beyond. Looks like they had a skirmish with a Terran ship.”
Davion grunted. “Outcome?”
“The swarm ships destroyed one Terran ship. A second Terran ship destroyed both the majority of the swarm ships and a raider-class cruiser.”
Hmm, the Terrans were proving far more tenacious than the Eon leadership had first thought.
Davion had been a boy when the Eon had first encountered the closely related species. He heard all the stories of the Terrans’ lack of discipline, hedonism, stubbornness, and infighting. The old Eon king had blocked all relations with them, and banned them from entering Eon space.
Davion wasn’t fond of leaving any species to be decimated by the Kantos, but he had his orders. Despite clear signs that the Kantos were gearing up for a large assault, Earth was on its own. The Eon had their own empire to defend, and the Kantos weren’t the only aggressive species with war on their minds.
“Monitor the situation and keep me informed,” Davion said. “Engineering?”
“All functioning normally,” Brack said.
“Weapons.”
“Normal,” Caze answered. “And the upgrade to the pulse cannon array is going well.”
“Excellent.” Davion looked at Brack. “You’ll take care of my ship while I’m away.”
Brack’s lips lifted. “I find your chair very comfortable.”
Davion bared his teeth. “Don’t get too comfortable, old friend.”
“And don’t get yourself killed on Hunter7.”
Davion felt a lick of anticipation. Hunter7 was one of the synthetic warrior-training planets—the hardest level designed to offer a warrior the ultimate challenge. It was where the top recruits were sent to test their skills, and where experienced warriors went to keep their skills sharp. Davion went there for fun.
“I’ll be in my office to finish some work, then the gym. Once we’re in range of Hunter7, I’ll fly myself down.”
Brack nodded. “I’ll ensure that your private shuttle is prepared and fueled. We’ll see you in a week.” His second shook his head. “I still think you’re crazy to pit yourself against killer wildlife, rather than get a tan and bury yourself between some curvy thighs.”
Davion grunted.
On patrol, warriors were dedicated to the job. But on their time off…they often found company of the temporary variety. They rarely married or mated. He had non-warrior friends back on Eon who had married, and very few who’d been lucky enough to meet their mate—their perfect biological match. For decades, mating had happened less and less for the Eon, and warriors were only fertile with their mates. To ensure the survival of the Eon species, their top scientists used the DNA of the best and brightest to ensure married couples had children.
Davion had been asked to donate his own DNA several times, but something had held him back. He still held the old-fashioned notion of wanting to raise his own children.
But romantic relationships and marriage weren’t very compatible with military life. For warriors, the pinnacle of their military careers involved years aboard warships, bloody confrontations with hostile species, and fierce training. Davion had no time for females and children. Besides, he’d never met a female who could tempt him away from the job he was born to do.
Occasionally, he visited pleasure planets. More often, he sweated off any sexual frustration with hunting, training, or his hand.
“Let me worry about where I bury my body parts, Brack.”
Brack snapped his boots together. “Yes, War Commander.”
Davion stopped himself from popping his fist into his second’s gut. He shook his head. “See you in a week.”
* * *
Eve sat at the controls of the small stealth ship, enjoying finally being alone and in control of her own craft.
What she wasn’t going to enjoy was breaking into the ship dominating her viewscreen.
There it was. The Desteron. The most powerful warship known to humans.
Ever since she’d crossed into Eon space, her nerves were stretched so tight she felt like she was going to snap. The closer she got to the ship, the more tense she felt. God, the warship was something.
It had a black hull that looked like it absorbed all light, like a black hole. The front was rounded, but the back tapered in to where the engines sat. It made her think of some smooth ocean predator. The Eon sure knew how to build a warship.
She swallowed. Any second now, the Desteron could pick up her ship’s signature. Admiral Barber was sure the stealth capabilities of the ship wou
ld keep her cloaked, but no one had tested the Desteron’s systems before. And Terran tech was nothing compared to Eon tech.
She was well aware that she was unlikely to survive this encounter. War Commander Thann-Eon was a decorated warrior. He was not only an exceptional leader, but a battle-strategy expert, and also known for being a hell of a fighter.
Eve blew out a breath. Added to that, all Eon warriors were bonded to an alien symbiont known as a helian. Space Corps knew very little about the symbionts, but they did know it gave the warriors abilities that made them near-unstoppable in battle. That included organic armor, and weapons the warrior could activate and change at will. She’d only read about the helian but she thought it sounded awesome.
She watched as the Desteron got bigger and bigger on-screen. Don’t spot me. Don’t spot me. Just a friendly little stealth ship doing stealthy things. Her throat was tight, and any second now, she expected her ship to be blown out of space.
Her heart pounded against her ribs. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Soon, all Eve could see in the viewscreen was the black hull. She’d studied every scrap of intel on the ship, and she’d had to extrapolate and make a few assumptions. She was planning to attach her ship close to an underside exhaust port on the Desteron and hoped that blocked any signature her ship might give off. Then she was going to cut her way in.
If she managed to make it aboard, then she’d have to navigate the ship and its crew.
She blew out a breath. She knew next to nothing about the interior of the warship, so she was going to have to wing it. Luckily, winging it was what Eve did best.
Clang.
She palmed the screen and felt the stealth ship’s MagnaLocks attach. She rose from her chair.
She’d made it. Now the fun began.
Eve wore the latest in Space Corps space suits. It was slick, mostly black with touches of white, and designed for special forces marines. It could repel a fair bit of damage, wouldn’t hamper her movements in a fight, and monitored her vitals.
She grabbed her favorite StrikeFire laser blaster and holstered it. Then she grabbed her RaptorClaw knife and slid it into her belt. She patted them. She loved her babies.
