I wasn’t surprised by the shocked expression of the transport officer on Commander Karter’s ship when seven fighters transported without prior approval or planning. I had input an override protocol that placed us deep inside the nearest battleship, as far from the Hive as I could get us in the shortest amount of time.
I could have transported us anywhere. The Academy. Everis. Prillon Prime. None of those made sense considering where we’d been. What we knew.
The Karter was the perfect choice. Not only was it in the same sector as the hidden Hive base, but it was the only battleship close enough to mount an assault on the Hive there. They were using our base to torture and kill our warriors, right under our noses, and the faster we took care of the problem, the more warriors we could save.
The fact that the Coalition hadn’t known the base had been overrun by the enemy enraged me. I knew Commander Karter, the tough as nails Prillon Commander. I’d worked with him on numerous I.C. missions with Commander Chloe Phan. I was confident Commander Karter would act quickly, would show no mercy.
I’d locked that secret base down and trapped any remaining Hive like rats in a barrel. The transport codes would prevent a
ny movement in or out, unless I personally authorized the transport—or Prime Nial himself chose to override my codes. No. Nothing was getting into or out of that base until we had enough warriors to go in there and clean house, save our people, and take care of this mess.
Quinn hadn’t known how many others were still down there, alive and trapped with the Hive. How could he know an exact count when he’d been in a cell behind an energy barrier and the Hive were a bunch of ruthless assholes? We had to go back. I wouldn’t risk any fighter’s life to that hellhole. He wouldn’t either, considering what the Hive had probably put him through. Who knew what integrations he had, or what tortures he’d survived.
The warrior behind the transport control panel looked up at us, his jaw gaping for a moment before he regained control of himself. The vibrations ceased, my hair stopped crackling. “Who are you?” he asked. Stunned. Definitely confused. “You are not on my transport list.” He glanced at the Prillon captain behind me, a cadet I’d trained several years ago. A good warrior and an honorable male. “Captain Prax? Is that you? You were reported missing on Latiri 7. How did you end up here?”
Prax growled as the Atlan at our feet began to stir, his ion blaster pointed at the warrior who’d resumed his normal form, which was still about three hundred pounds and a solid seven feet. The beast was gone now. We didn’t know the extent of his integrations. Hell, we didn’t even know if he could be saved.
I stepped off the pad, down the platform’s steps. “I’m Vice Admiral Niobe. I need to see Commander Karter and Commander Phan immediately.”
The male’s hand moved swiftly to verify my identity, as was protocol. I waited impatiently, my booted foot tapping on the floor of the transport room as the screen behind him mirrored what he was seeing on the control panel. An image of my face appeared, along with my service record and a large emblem in the upper corner confirming I was a vice admiral—not that he could miss that rank by looking at my uniform—and my status as a member of the I.C. The male glanced at me, then down, then back up. “At once, Vice Admiral. I will inform the commanders of your arrival.”
“Good.” I nodded, trying to ignore the Hunter behind me, my mate, who was moving in close. Too close, like an alpha male. A very protective one. I shifted a few steps away because I needed to stay in control. Breathing in his scent, feeling the heat coming from his body, the look in his gaze… it was distracting. And nipple hardening.
“Alert medical.” I tipped my head toward the platform. “I have an integrated Atlan here, and four rescued prisoners from a Hive Integration facility. They were new arrivals there and have no new integrations that I am aware of, but they need a thorough medical exam just in case.”
The tech nodded. “Yes, Vice Admiral.”
He stood, staring at all of us for another few seconds, taking in the battle worn prisoners, the Everian Hunter, the unconscious Atlan full of Hive tech, and me.
I raised my eyebrows. I didn’t have time for this kind of nonsense. “Now.”
He jumped as if stung by a bee and a few seconds later a medical team in green raced into the transport room. The Atlan was injected with what I assumed was a strong sedative as the others were led out of the room to the medical station. Captain Prax nodded his head, either in thanks or goodbye or any other possibility. I was just glad he was safe. Whole.
I lifted a hand, signaled one doctor to remain. He nodded slightly and waited for my orders. There was one very stubborn Everian I knew who needed to be tended. I also knew he wasn’t going to allow it, not until he’d spoken to me. To tell him I was his mate then transport to a battleship? Yeah, probably not the way it was usually done.
I turned on my heel. I knew Quinn hadn’t gone with the others. I felt him watching me, devouring me with his gaze. Intense. Sensual. Needy.
“How long were you a prisoner?” I asked. I didn’t want to know, and I did. My heart, which hadn’t even known he existed just a short time ago, ached for him now. While I’d been on The Colony with Kira and Angh and the others there, he’d been tortured.
“I lost count of the days. A week. Maybe longer.”
I could only imagine. The base was underground. No windows. No light. No space to use to get one’s bearings. He stepped closer, lifted a hand to my face, traced my cheek with his fingertips. For a Hunter, and I knew he was an Elite, his touch was gentle, the motion slow.
“Is what you said true? Are you mine?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Yes.” There was no reason to deny our match. “And you are mine.” I wanted to get that out there from the beginning. I was not a soft, submissive female. I would demand as much as I gave. Perhaps more.
“By the gods.” He leaned in close, nuzzled the side of my neck as I motioned the doctor in closer. “What is your name?”
“Niobe.”
He repeated the name, breathed me in. His hands came to rest on my hips and I swayed, the adrenaline from battle and his nearness combining to overwhelm me for a few seconds. But no more. He’d been tortured. Integrated. He was hurt. Too thin. The circles under his eyes spoke of long days without sleep. The lines around his mouth reflections of pain. And I could only imagine the mental hardships he’d endured. “You need to go to medical, Quinn.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I need you, not a doctor.”
I laughed, I couldn’t help myself, the sound a surprise even to me. He was feisty, my mate. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
That got his attention and he lifted his head to stare into my eyes. “Niobe.”