Page 62 of Sawoots Story

I squeeze Garrick’s big forearm through a gap in his armor. “You just focus on keeping yourself alive. Because remember, I’m right there with you,” I say, still half suspicious the triad is going to manhandle me back to the brig at the last second, or throw me into Theme’s Reaver to Orb-Shift out if things get hairy.

Markrin runs his hand over his head. “You’re not going to make life easy for us, are you?”

I wink at him, feeling my old self shining through the chaos. “No, but I’ll make it interesting. Now why the hell are we sitting around talking? I’m taking gunner,” I say, hopping forward before they can protest. If they’re going to put me into the brig, they’re going to have to drag me out of the Reaver. I jump in the side door, taking a moment to myself, catching my breath as I stand in the pure white interior.

I compose myself. We’re going to fly a single attack ship into range of the mothership’s awful battery. The old me would have done anything to get as far as possible from the Reaver loaded up with chemical explosives that—if Iunia gets the ancient recipe wrong—are going to explode halfway there.

I plunk myself down in the massive Reaver’s chair in front of the Orb-Beam controls when I see Tar’ank in the reflection of the glass. He grabs me under the shoulders, pulling me up like I’m a doll. I’m weightless in his arms as he twirls me and kisses me, stealing my breath away.

I melt under his touch, and he sets me down on shaky legs. “I’ve got hundreds of years of experience on this thing,” he says, “so if you’ll excuse me…” He sits in the chair, and now we’re nearly at eye level. I wonder how long it will take before I’m used to the size difference between me and aliens that have four-hundred-pounds of muscle on me.

I wonder if I’ll get the chance.

Tar’ank’s spent over a century behind the targeting reticules. I try not to think about it, but the niggling thought crawls in my brain.

How can this work?

If we aren’t Bonded, I’ll be a blink in their lives. I’ll live and die while they stay youthful and strong. Then they’ll start their harem. I’ll be a distant memory.

I force the thoughts out of my mind. I’ve always lived in the moment. When you aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, I’ve always had to. Now I’m going to live for the rest of my life, and if I have my way, it’ll be with these three warriors.

There’s a heavy clunk. “That’s all of them. Preparing to take-off,” says Garrick, flicking a switch. The cargo hold bays thud closed.

It’s strange to have a new captain. I’ve followed Tasha my entire life. We’ve relied on each other through the hardest times you can imagine.

I step forward and put my hand on Garrick’s broad shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze through a chink in his heavy armor.

He hesitates before taking off. “Sawoot, I know you’re no coward. I just want to—”

“I’ve made my choice. Live or die, we do it together.”

“Very well.” His voice is gravel. “Then let’s do our best to live.” He flicks on the coms-link. “We’re ready.”

“You good, Sawoot?” Tasha yells back. I can tell she’s standing just like me, right behind her Aurelian.

“I’m good! Holy shit, let’s hope this works!” My body is practically vibrating with intensity, my arm shaking from adrenaline. Being near my triad calms me.

The stakes have never been so high. This isn’t just riches. This isn’t just our lives.

This is thousands of miners on Tarrion and hundreds of Aurelian triads depending on our ruse working.

Aelon’s Reaver takes off, and we follow instantly. He punches through the shimmering airfield. For a second, his Reaver is blurry before we follow him through into the darkness of space.

I look to my left and right. Tar’ank and Markrin are fully focused. Their hands are on the triggers and their eyes flicker, never resting on any one part of space. They are ready for the coming storm.

The HUD display shows flashing icons for Aelon’s Reaver, a bigger square forTheInstigator, and small dots for the troops spread out on Tarrion. I count a dozen fully manned anti-air batteries. If this plan goes to shit, the Toads are going to find a bristling armament of defenses. Taking the resources on Tarrion will be a guerrilla battle against forewarned forces.

We fly away fromTheInstigatorwhen the HUD blurs. I was expecting it, but it still makes my heart skip a beat.

“We’ve entered the disruptor field,” states Markrin. HIs voice is emotionless. Some people detach before a battle. I’ve never been that way. I feel more animalistic than ever. I savor each moment. The feel of Garrick’s strong shoulder under my fingers. The identical, manly musk of the three warriors that just smellsright.

The Reaver moves in silence, powered by the same deadly Orbs that fill our cache. Our shields are up, but even a Reaver’s defenses will be shredded by the Toad mothership’s las-cannons like our armor and shields are tissue.

If that happens, the heavy chemical explosives in the storage boxes will detonate harmlessly outside the Toad mothership’s armor. Well, harmless for them. They’ll see fancy fireworks while my triad is turned to dust.

I guess it won’t be my problem anymore.

We’re flying towards uncertainty, but my three men give me stability. They’ve worked as a unit for hundreds of years, but I don’t feel I’m intruding into their synergy.

---