Zandian Lights (Zandian Brides 4)

“You are not a pilot. You haven’t trained for this.” I know what he’s saying: You’re not a warrior. I kept up with hand combat training with Master Seke on the palatial pod, but when they moved to the training pod and began training pilots, I was put to use in engineering because of my lung condition.

“I don’t need to be part of the on-planet extraction team.” My hands tremble and I clench my fists. “Send me along to navigate. I will stay on board once we arrive and guard the craft.” I have to do this. It’s my destiny.

Static, then he barks orders, clearly on the open channel to all fighters. “Team A: Lanz, Domm, Mirelle, and Hektor, report to Dr. Daneth immediately for advanced hyperdrive preparation and instructions. Team B: Arc, Bow, Sparr, scramble backup and prepare to hang at the Sector B border in case your help is needed. Stay tuned for further instructions.”

My personal nav beeps, and Master Seke’s voice rings out. “Mykl: Join crew A at Dr. Daneth’s quarters. But if you have any hesitation when it’s time to go to manual navigation, you abort the mission immediately. Is that clear? I will not lose some of my best warriors for an uncertain mission.”

“Understood.”

I make my way to the health dome, where my friends are already undergoing injections and transfusions. Accepting breathing masks and kits of devices.

It’s dangerous, but everyone on our planet knows that when we hear about Zandians, male or female, we go get them. That’s part of our mission, our honor, our lives.

Maybe I’m not the warrior I should have been. But I can help direct, and then—when we rescue the Zandian female—I will mate her and fulfill the promise to my father.

I should be thrilled. I am thrilled.

Aren’t I?

Mykl

* * *

“Veck, that was the most horrible hyperjump I’ve ever done.” Lanz’ voice is foggy. He shakes his head and his tone improves. “Stars, that was violent. Team check in. Everyone good?”

“Fine.” Domm’s voice is firm.

“I’m fine.” My voice sounds far away, but evens out as I continue speaking. “All good.” My chest feels tight. I haven’t been on a jump in many solar cycles, and I’m not used to it. I just hope my body and lungs will hold out on the auction planet, where the thin atmosphere and higher content of flourinated gasses are difficult for even the top notch fighters to handle with ease.

“I’m fine.” Hektor, the other member of our team, chimes in.

“Clear.” Mirelle’s voice is even. “For me it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s your softer physiology.” Lanz turns to her. “Once humans acclimate to hyper, they excel at withstanding the pressures when they have the proper preparations.”

“Thank the stars for Dr. Daneth.” Hektor clears his throat. “That was brutal. Can’t imagine how we’d survive it without his help.”

“Gonna need you at the controls now, Mykl. Entering the solar bands.” Domm’s voice is neutral, but I see the urgency in his eyes. “Remember what Master Seke said. Any hesitation, we abort. No shame, no repercussions. This is a very dangerous mission and we won’t risk our lives.”

I nod. “I’m fine and I can do this. I’ll adjust the auto when necessary. I have the maps memorized. Especially the part where we need to fly manual to get into the Segron air territory.” My fingers fly across the console, and the only thing I feel is eager anticipation.

“Segron is popular with the Finn. Dr. Daneth gave us masks to wear in case they release toxic nerve gasses during our rescue. I just hope they haven’t injured our female out of spite.” Domm’s voice is low and serious. “None of us should get our hopes up. She might be… non-salvageable.”

I never get nervous. But the mention of nerve gas and spite, Zandians rendered useless, makes my head spin. For a second, I’m back in that school as a youth and I’m breathing in the thick, noxious black-green smoke. My lungs burn and I’m dying and—

“Veck.” My eyes blur over and I rub my face in my hands.

I look back at the screen. To my horror, my concentration is entirely shot. My eyes skitter across the solar bands, unable to focus.

I suck in a breath.

Mirelle is by my side in a flash. It’s uncanny the way this human can read Zandians. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t focus. I just need a second to adjust.”

“We don’t have a second. We need you on point now.” Her voice is firm. “If you can’t do this, you need to abort.”

“I can do this.” My voice rises. “I just—”