Page 17

Chapter

Seventeen

Deklyn

" Y ou're crazy," Sasha said, shaking her head as I raided the Kronock weapons cache.

I couldn't help but grin at her, taking in her tousled hair, smudged cheeks, and dirty uniform.

Even thin and disheveled from months in captivity, she was the most stunning female I'd ever seen.

Something about the fire in her eyes and the defiant tilt of her chin hit me in places I thought had hardened long ago.

"Not crazy, just Inferno Force," I replied, tossing her a compact blaster.

She caught it one-handed, her reflexes impressively sharp for someone who'd been imprisoned so long.

Then she swept her arms wide, gesturing at the arsenal I was rapidly depleting.

"I thought we were going after the female prisoner.

How exactly does arming ourselves like we're invading a bunker help with that? "

I was still marveling at our luck at finding a weapons storage room, even though I know Sasha wished we’d found the source of the human screams. I grabbed a laser rifle and stuffed explosives into every available pocket.

"We are. But the way to save her is to create a distraction.

" I tossed her another weapon, a smaller model that could be hidden easily. "The bigger the better."

"Has anyone ever told you about the concept of subtlety?" she asked, expertly checking the charge on the blaster.

"Subtlety doesn't win wars," I replied, securing a bandolier of grenades across my chest. "Never has, never will."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical Inferno Force. You all think every problem can be solved with a big enough explosion."

"And pilots think every problem can be solved from the safety of a cockpit," I shot back, enjoying the way her cheeks flushed with indignation. "How's that working out for you?"

"I may not have logged as many combat hours as you've spent in the gym admiring yourself, but the only way we’re escaping this place is in a ship,” she snapped back, tucking the smaller blaster into her boot.

I laughed, genuinely delighted by her quick wit. "I have friends who were Wings. Good in a crisis, great in formation. But if you want to make a splash—" I patted the explosives strapped to my belt, "—you need Inferno Force."

"Are all Inferno Force warriors so impossibly cocky, or are you a special case?" Sasha asked, leaning against the weapons rack with feigned casualness.

I moved closer, invading her personal space just enough to make her pulse visibly quicken at her throat. "Admit it, Sash, you love the cockiness."

"I don't—" she spluttered, but the flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck told a different story.

I forced myself to step back, to focus on the mission rather than the growing desire to taste those indignant lips.

Sasha was exactly my type—strong-willed, sharp-tongued, and fiercely independent.

I loved how she challenged me, how she snapped back without hesitation, and how her eyes flashed when I pushed her buttons just right.

I wanted more than anything to get her safely out of this hellhole so I could know her when we weren't running or fighting for our lives.

And I could take my time pressing all the right buttons.

My mind drifted back to the moment I'd first seen her, when her image had flashed on the viewscreen in Captain Brok's strategy room aboard the Inferno Force battleship.

Brok had stood before us, his scarred face grim as he’d addressed the assembled warriors. "I have a request from the Academy. A covert reconnaissance mission into Kronock territory."

The room had gone silent. Missions into Kronock space were essentially suicide runs, with a return rate hovering around thirty percent.

Then her face had appeared on the screen, stunning yet defiant even in a military identification photo, dark hair pulled back severely, eyes that seemed to look right through you. The bruises, dirt, and sunken cheeks hadn’t been present then, only flawless skin and the confidence of the untested.

"Earth pilot Sasha Bowman," Brok had continued. "Captured during the Kronock invasion of Earth. Sister to an Academy instructor. The Academy Master wants her location confirmed before mounting a rescue operation."

I'd stepped forward before I even realized what I was doing. "I volunteer.”

Brok had fixed me with a calculating stare. "This isn't a glory run, Lieutenant. You'll be alone, deep in enemy territory, with no backup crew.”

"Understood, Captain."

Later, as I'd prepared for the mission, Brok had cornered me in the armory. "Why this mission, Deklyn?"

I couldn't answer him, not truthfully. I didn't understand it myself. Something about her face, her eyes. I’d known in my gut she was meant to be mine. But I would never tell her that. Sasha wasn't the kind of female who wanted to be told anything, even if she wanted it herself.

"How big of a distraction are you planning?" Her voice snapped me back to the present, to the Kronock weapons room where we stood surrounded by enough firepower to start a small war.

I winked at her, slinging a rifle over my shoulder. "Enough to get the other female and escape while sending the enemy into chaos."

"Define 'chaos,'" she pressed, eyeing the thermal detonators I was attaching to my belt.

"The kind that makes them too busy putting out fires to worry about a few missing prisoners." I handed her a blade.

She hesitated, then took it, her fingers brushing mine in a touch that sent electricity racing up my arm. "And what if your brilliant plan gets us killed instead?"

"Then we die gloriously," I replied with a grin that didn't quite reach my eyes. The thought of Sasha dying, and of failing her after coming this far, made something inside me twist painfully.

"I've never been interested in a glorious death," she muttered. “I prefer the kind where I don't die at all."

"That's the spirit," I said, moving to the door and cracking it open to check the corridor. "Ready to raise some hell?"

She appeared at my shoulder, her body heat a subtle presence at my side. "I don't suppose there's any point in suggesting a less dangerous approach?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"You and I have very different definitions of 'fun,'" she replied, but there was a hint of excitement beneath the exasperation in her voice.

I handed her one of the detonators. "Set this for two minutes and place it at the junction of the far corridors. That'll draw their security forces.”

She took the device with surprising confidence. "And what will you be doing while I'm playing decoy?"

"Setting up a few surprises of my own. Don’t worry. I’ll catch up with you.”

"You're assuming a lot about my willingness to follow your orders," she said, but she was already checking the detonator's mechanism.

"I'm not ordering," I corrected her. "I'm suggesting. Forcefully."

That earned me the whisper of a smile that transformed her gaunt face. "How magnanimous of you."

"I'm a giver," I deadpanned, then grew serious. "Be careful. These lizards don't play nice."

"Neither do I," she replied, a dangerous glint in her eye that made my pulse quicken.

As she slipped out the door, moving with a stealth that reminded me she was no ordinary pilot, I found myself thinking that getting her out alive wasn't just about the mission anymore. It was about a future where I might have the chance to discover all the layers beneath that defiant exterior.

But first, we had to survive. And that meant giving the Kronock something they wouldn't soon forget.

I armed the first explosive, setting the timer for ninety seconds as I stepped into the corridor. "Time to make some noise."