Page 267 of Reaper Said Mine

“Yes.”

The compad remains in my hand. No new message arrives. The bond pulls toward her like a hook through my ribs, and the need to act claws at every instinct I possess. My jalshagar is in danger. Every part of me older than language knows what that means. Go. Kill. Claim. Protect. Break the galaxy until it gives her back.

I close my hand around the compad and breathe through the urge until it becomes something I can command.

“Vakka,” I say.

She straightens. “Lord?”

“Quietly alert any Reaper-aligned vessels already near Ceres routing. They are not to abandon civilians, not to reveal themselves, and not to engage unless Ursa requests extraction or hostile forces fire first.”

Her eyes gleam. “That gives her teeth without moving the shield.”

“Yes.”

“Krell,” I say.

“Yes, lord.”

“Send her updated threat maps through the smallest channel we have. Nothing that burns her route if intercepted. Also send the Bravax corridor data. If she is carrying evidence, she may as well carry more.”

He nods rapidly. “Yes, lord.”

Skahar’s voice is low. “Good.”

“No,” I say. “Necessary.”

He raises one brow ridge. “Careful. That word has been misused lately.”

“Then I will use it better.”

I return my attention to the map because if I stare at the private channel, I will become less useful, and becoming less useful is one form of surrender. The next alert arrives before my fear can deepen its claws.

Alliance forward elements approaching the Trask Fold.

Coalition shields repositioning around civilian evacuation lanes.

Combine cutters probing Bravax again.

Guyver shelters at ninety-one percent capacity.

The war keeps asking questions.

I answer with the living in mind.

“Move shelter overflow to Dock Two external tents.”

“Do not pursue the Bravax cutters beyond dome cover.”

“Publicly broadcast Alliance approach vectors with civilian corridor overlays.”

“Tell Theryki her shields stay cold unless fired upon.”

“Tell Captain Rokk if he breaks formation to chase insults, I will personally assign him diaper duty in the refugee nursery.”

Vakka pauses. “Do we have diapers?”

“We will if he disobeys.”