Page 169 of Star Claimed Omega
His essence was returning.
This mission, this mess of pirates, rebels, and corrupt mercs, would be the battlefield he needed to remember who the hell he was.
Not broken, nor lost. Rather, thefokkin’ potentOmegalycan he was.
SANTIAGO
2 AM.
Santi prowled through the executive corridors of the Signet dreadnought.
The lycan wolf in him stirred.
His soul still ached, but he felt more alive than he had in a while.
He sensed it in his spine, in the uptick of rhythm of his thoughts, in the way he walkedThe Sombra’slower decks that morning.
He stalked with purpose now, not aimless pacing or grief-soaked drifting.
A flicker of his former self was igniting.
He was getting back in gear.
That did not mean he was not broken in places.He was.
Some nights, he still reached for the pillowshe’d slept onand wrapped himself in her scent.
His nose buried in her fading foil, pressing hard, his shoulder shaking as grief leaked into it.
However, mornings came easier now.
He was now able to climb out of the wreckage of his broken heart.
To drag himself to the bathroom, to shower, shave, and brush his teeth, and plan the day.
His new mission helped.
He strode into the Signet board room, where twelve Signet operatives stood ready; six women, six men, all elite and experienced warriors.
Each wore the group’s signature dark matte armor suits with cloaks flared over one bicep.
Miral stood off to the side, in a gleaming, emerald jumpsuit to match her eyes, one brow raised as he entered.
Dressed in camo, Kaal gave him a slow nod from across the table, arms folded, his massive frame leaning against the bulkhead.
‘Team,’ Santi called.
His voice was hoarse, still unused to command, but it held weight.
Heads turned, spines straightened.
‘We’re headed to 65 Cybele. I‘m sure you’ve all read the brief. This is a quiet takeover mission dressed in the guise of diplomacy. You are Signet’s best. You know how this goes. Speak softly, but carry a big stick, no firearms, no live ammo. We’re not going onto the station to start a war. Savvy?’
‘Sawa, XO,’ the group called out as one.
He paused. ‘Let’s be honest. It won’t be a shoo-in on a port where insurrection has stirred for so long. Expect resistance, a few firefights, and a battle before we take charge. Anyone give you trouble, feel free to share yourfokkknuckles.’
A ripple of chuckles moved through the squad.
