“You’re welcome.” She smirked and tucked one leg beneath her as she monitored incoming scans. “It’s also the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I once dated a guy who collected antique clown dolls.”
Zapharos stood behind her, one hand braced on her chair. “I still do not understand why that is unsettling.”
“Because clowns are evil,” Ella explained without looking up.
I looked at Thyros, and a current of not understanding passed between us that strengthened a different kind of bond between us. Because clowns? What by the stars was that?
At the front of the bridge, Dravok stood with his hands clasped behind his back, broad shoulders rigid as he studied the swirling darkness ahead. He looked as though he had been carved from sunlight and war.
“We have a problem,” Dravok announced without preamble.
Thyros groaned softly. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
Dravok ignored him. So did Zapharos, who filled us in. “"The vessel is secured in my stronghold in Nox Eternum.”
Relief flashed through the bond, followed almost immediately by suspicion from both Thyros and me. If the Vessel was safe, why weren't we on our way retrieving it?
Zapharos answered the unspoken question. “I can retrieve it myself and return within hours.”
“That is exactly what the Harrowed One expects,” Dravok warned.
He touched the console, and a new image appeared: the snarling face of a captured Moggaddesh. Even frozen in the holovid, the creature looked terrifying. Dravok folded his arms. "I extracted what information I could from one of our prisoners.”
Ella shuddered, “I’m guessing that was not a pleasant conversation.”
“It was not a conversation.” Dravok corrected her.
Now a faint shudder ran through me. I wasn't opposed to violence or torture. By the Temple, I had applied both many times, but the thought of being at Dravok's mercy rushed images to my mind that I wasn't sure I could ever forget.
Dravok continued as though discussing weather patterns. “The Moggaddesh know little beyond conquest. Their species is brutally efficient but intellectually simplistic. They overwhelm advanced civilizations, steal their technology, and incorporate whatever improves their military capabilities.”
Nadine nodded. “An evolutionary strategy based on aggression and opportunistic adaptation.”
“Precisely,” Dravok nodded.
He enlarged the image, highlighting a massive figure adorned with jagged armor and ceremonial markings. “Their Overlord has pledged allegiance to the Harrowed One.”
A hush settled over the bridge. “They believe Nhal’Vareth is a god,” Dravok continued. “One who will grant them dominion over the universe.”
“What did the prisoner tell you?” Thyros asked.
Dravok’s gaze darkened. “Very little of tactical value. Only that the Harrowed One is waiting.”
A cold chill slid down my spine. “He expects us to come for the Vessel,” Dravok continued. “And if my instincts are correct, he will deploy a substantial force of Mmuhr’Rhong to prevent us from reaching it.”
Silence followed. Zapharos stared at the tactical display for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice held the calm certainty of a commander making an irrevocable decision.
“Plan B, then.”
He straightened to his full, imposing height. “I will recall our legions from the outer fronts. They will engage the Mmuhr’Rhong and keep the Harrowed One occupied while we retrieve the Vessel.”
Thyros' hand tightened around mine.
“We,” he repeated carefully, “meaning you, Dravok, and me.”
I drew breath to inform him exactly what I thought of that assumption. But before I could speak, Zapharos shook his head.
“I wish it were that simple.” His gaze shifted to Ella, and the fierce warrior in his expression softened with unmistakable love. “I would give anything to keep Ella here.”
