She fights forward, voice breaking.“No! No, no—stop!”
I catch her in the corner of my vision. She’s pale and fierce and broken. She reaches out.
“Don’t you hurt him!”she screams.
One marine shoves her aside. Hard. Her body slams into a bulkhead. She gasps.
I stifle the rising rage. The stun rod glows. One booted foot steps toward me.
“You’ll regret this,”I growl.
Then the rod strikes. Electric fire flashes across my chest. My vision arcs. Pain rips through me.
Before I black out, I see her.
Her hair is flying. Her arms flail. Tears across her cheeks. She calls my name—calls me Takhiss.
Then the darkness swallows me.
CHAPTER 19
ELLA
The walls are too white.
I hate white rooms.
They buzz — like the inside of my skull when I haven’t slept for days. Fluorescent light hums overhead, steady, pitiless. There’s a table, a chair, a glass of water that smells faintly like antiseptic, and a man in uniform who keeps smiling at me like he’s doing me a favor.
His name tag saysKORIN. His tone sayscondescending bastard.
“Technician Corleone,” he begins, tapping something on his datapad, “we want to start by expressing our gratitude. You showed exceptional resilience during your ordeal aboard the Seeker.”
I stare at the table. “Where’s Takhiss?”
He pauses. I hear the faint click of the stylus against the glass. “The Coalition soldier you were found with is in secure containment. He’s being processed as a prisoner of war.”
My throat closes. “He’s not a prisoner of war—he’s aperson.”
Korin doesn’t even blink. “He’s a combatant who breached an Alliance vessel. His case falls under interstellar martial law.”
“Hesavedme,” I snap. My palms slam the table before I realize I’ve moved. The sound echoes. Korin doesn’t flinch.
“Technician,” he says, voice cool, “you’re emotionally compromised. We’ll need to document your statement as such.”
“I’m not compromised, you son of a?—”
The word dies in my throat when the door slides open and another officer steps in. A woman this time. Pale uniform. Captain’s stripes. She gives me that same neutral expression — sympathy polished down to procedure.
“Ella,” she says softly. “You need rest. Debriefing is standard protocol. We’ll clear you for reinstatement within seventy-two hours.”
“Not until I see him.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Make it possible.”
The captain’s eyes flick to the water glass, the walls, the camera blinking red in the corner. “We’re trying to keep this contained,” she says. “The Coalition filed a violation complaint. Until that’s resolved?—”
