Page 6 of Ravaged By the Reaper
Panaka grunts again. That sound meansinteresting.
“You think you’ve seen her in battle? On a station? A raid?”
“No,” I say. “She’s not from the past. She’s from…now.”
He’s quiet for a beat, then exhales slowly, like he’s releasing something weighty.
“You know what this means,” he says.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do.”
I glare at him.
“Say it,” he orders.
My stomach knots. My claws flex.
“Say it, Bloodsinger.”
“She’s my jalshagar.”
The word tastes foreign on my tongue. Sacred. Ancient.
A soul tie. A burning fate. The one being in all the infinite galaxies the universe has tethered to mine.
“I thought that was just a myth,” I mutter.
He smirks. “So did I. Until I found mine. Until I felt her calling me in my bones. Until the gods themselves screamedhersinto my blood.”
“What did you do?”
“I killed the slaver who had her in chains. Took her back from the stars with my own hands.”
“Was she…?”
“Dead.” Panaka’s voice doesn’t break. His expression doesn’t twitch. “But I still saved her. Gave her a grave carved from starlight. Then burned the whole damn moon.”
I stare at him, throat tight.
“So what do I do now?” I ask.
He grins, and for a second, I see the Reaper he used to be. The one who could break ships in half with his bare hands.
“You find her. Save her.”
I hesitate.
“Then claim her,” he says. “Andtameher.”
“You make it sound like she’s a wild animal.”
He shrugs. “Aren’t we all?”
"She’s not just some dream, is she?"
Panaka’s staring at me, one hand braced on the bulkhead like the walls themselves might lurch under the weight of truth. The light from the console casts deep shadows in the grooves of his face—each one earned, each one a kill mark.
