He’s still grinning wildly at me. Yet again there is a change of mood, of anticipation and of excitement. Time ticks away. Dante paces back and forth, occasionally casting a glance at me which is bordering on feral.
I take a seat to one side of the bridge on one of a set of them running along the bulkhead.
Dante stops and tracks my movement. I motion for him to sit, and his tail lashes, but he comes over and joins me.
“How long will they take?” I ask him, slipping my hand into his.
“Not long,” Dante says, his eyes dragged back from the rest of the bridge.
I see it all now.
Dante and his crew have never been chaos. They’ve been walking the fine line between putting their mutation to the best possible use without tipping over the edge. Chasing down pirates, creating weaponry which will defeat them, making things go boom—it’s all about holding on and keeping who they are alive without descending into what they could be.
As Sarkarnii with a double mutation, that of being able to heal extremely fast without shifting to their dragon forms, they can operate with what would appear to be reckless abandon,but in fact, they are making sure they can continue to exist, to provide for Vorostor.
And keep it safe.
Dante might have methods which could appear as mayhem, but he is doing what needs to be done…his way.
“Boss? They’re done,” his navigator calls out.
“Are you ready to see a pirate ship?” Dante asks me with a smile which could put a crocodile to shame.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
DANTE
The air inside the pirate vessel has the tang of vented atmosphere coupled with the usual stink of too many living in close proximity with little care for their welfare.
Beside me, Rosalie hesitates slightly, her pace slowing.
“My heartsfire?” I check to make sure she is uninjured, even though we’re less than a tail’s length from the airlock.
“It’s nothing…” She straightens her back. “This ship reminds me of the one Kerra and I were on when Darax found us.”
“I can leave my warriors to deal with it if you wish.”
“No.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder. It tumbles down her back like a wave of flame. “I want to see it. Banish the ghosts.”
I am not entirely sure what she means, but I do not get a scent of fear from her, and her jaw has the same look it had when she asked me to let the crew meet the sarkarnlings, something she was very right about. I would not disobey that jaw.
Although I would prefer to carry my mate through this filthy place, I push the desire down inside myself, and we walk side by side along the main passage to the bridge where my warriors have what is left of the pirate crew kneeling, or the equivalent as their species demands, in several neat rows.
Smoke rises from a couple of consoles. There is the distinct smell of plasma weapons discharge, so it would appear at least one of the pirates put up a fight.
“This one is the captain.”
My boarding party leader, a capable warrior called Dalix, points out a large Lijiki, one of the main pirate species in this galaxy. His three stomachs bulge out of his open jacket, and he is producing enough slime to make him far more slippery than he actually is. His dark, watery eyes flick to me then straight ahead again.
“Cargo?”
“Yes.”
I rub at my chin.
“Data banks?”
“Wiped.”
