few feet away glaring darkly at me. The former mercenary is no doubt feeling miffed, his pride wounded by my ability to resist his powerful frame.
“What about you, first mate? You used to fight for a living, for cold hard credits. Are you so unwilling to spill blood for my fated mate now that the time has come?”
“I’m more than willing to spill blood and have my own spilled.” Grantian crosses his arms over his chest. “I am no coward, Montier.”
“I did not say you were. But if battle is what it takes to free our missing crew mate, then battle must be joined. It must.”
Grantian sneers, drawing himself up to his full height.
“I do not shy away from battle, but neither do I see a point in throwing away lives in pursuit of a lost cause.”
“Lost cause?” I hold my hands out, clenching my fists and trembling with rage. “My fated mate is a lost cause? Would you be so fucking cavalier about turning the other cheek if it were Lamira in the clutches of the accursed Project Blue Dawn?”
Grantian opens his mouth to respond, but then his eyes glimmer with comprehension. He can’t quite muster anything to reply with, but Solair interjects himself.
“Montier, that is quite enough. I understand your anger, your fear, but turning against your own is no solution.”
“Turning against my own?” I sneer at him, struggling to contain my anger. “But it is not my own. This is your crew. Is it not? Or perhaps we should return to the old ways, when the captaincy was determined by ritual combat.”
Solair’s eyes widen, and Grantian takes a step forward.
“Montier, you are way out of line.”
“Then allow me to compound my crimes with assault.”
I ball up my fist and take a step toward Solair, but a light begins to flash on the comm console. Swipt peers at the read out, and his mouth gapes in shock.
“It’s an incoming message—from Fiona?”
“What?” I rush to the console, nearly bowling Swipt over in my haste. I start punching keys in an attempt to respond.
“Settle down, Monty, it’s a one-way transmission. She can’t hear us, but we can hear her—that is, if you shut the fuck up and let us.”
Swipt’s admonishment works better than Solair’s proclamations precisely because our pilot is usually so low key and laid back. If I’ve angered him, I must really be out of line. I force myself to calm down while Swipt turns up the volume. Fiona’s sweet voice, distorted by feedback, reaches my ears.
She’s alive, at the very least. For that much I am grateful.
“…managed to hack this console but it won’t be long before I’m noticed. I didn’t tell them a thing, guys, not a damn thing. They don’t believe me, but they’ve given up the interrogation. They’re going to sell me at an auction. I don’t know when. Probably soon. End transmission.”
The comm goes silent, and I slam my fist down onto its surface in barely contained rage.
“Settle down, Montier. If you wreck the bridge, we’re all screwed.”
I turn toward Solair and struggle to keep my tone even.
“Captain, we must return to Perseus immediately.”
“The answer is still no, Montier.”
I growl low in my throat, my pulse throbbing so hard in my temple it’s giving me a headache.
“But Solair…they’re going to sell her, like a piece of meat at the market. Don’t you know what that means?”
Solair’s grimace fades into a sad frown.
“I know, Montier. I know all too well, but we don’t have any choice. The Ancestral Queen, even with her recent upgrades, isn’t a match for a fleet of mercenary ships. It’s a suicide mission.”
“Would you be so cowardly if Varia was about to be sold lock, stock, and barrel? Hmm? Would you leave her twisting in the wind because you feared a good fight?”
“I don’t fear a good fight. I fear the destruction of this ship and the deaths of everyone on it, including you.” Solair sighs. “Montier, please try to see reason. If we get killed, there will be no one to rescue Fiona. We have to sit back, be patient, and pick our spot.”
“Pick our spot?”
“Montier…” Grantian moves forward and puts a hand on my shoulder. “We haven’t fully restocked our supplies, and we’re running low on provisions and credits. We are simply not in a position to mount a rescue effort at this time.”
I settle down a bit, realizing he’s right, but my mind continues to work in overdrive. There must be a way we can manage this.