Page 34

Howling With The Wolves

SAVVINE

T he Pena howled through the stars, her ion thrusters flaring blue-gold as Savvine pushed her to the edge, then beyond it.

She sat locked in the tight, contoured pilot seat, the neural interface humming against her temple, her whole body a weapon.

Sweat beaded at her brow, her breaths controlled.

Beside her in the dark, Xander’s Corvette flew in perfect synchronicity, her man’s silhouette hunched over the helm.

They cut through enemy fire like wraiths, maneuvering in tandem, reading each other without words.

Pulsed weapons were laced between them in staccato bursts, their weapons hot, disruptor mines, spread lasers, and fire-lure beacons.

Shields hummed under pressure. Armor sparked.

Their neural nodes stayed linked, and their breaths synced.

Combat music played beneath it all, a heavy-bassed atmospheric funk that throbbed through Savvine’s bones.

Xander’s voice was a growl across their private channel.

‘You’re dancing like hell out here, mi cielo .’

Savvine grinned, eyes razor-sharp on the cluster of enemy ships ahead.

‘Try to keep up, Xander.’

She dove, skimming the curved hull of a destroyed Signet vessel, flipped under a debris wing, and came up shooting.

A Lombardi flanker exploded in her wake, flames curling in zero-G like a dying flower.

Xander tore through a second one with a rail arc cannon, the echo thudding into her bones.

Then came the real problem.

The Santo Venado , the Lombardi’s prize destroyer.

It was massive and downright ugly, covered in armored plating and built like a slow-moving killer.

Its gun turret tracked them with predatory focus, loaded with enough firepower to tear both their ships to shreds.

It locked on.

‘They’ve got us pinned,’ Xander muttered.

‘Not for long.’

Savvine slammed the thrusters into a barrel roll, the Pena twisting in a complete spiral.

She threaded between plasma volleys and spiraling wreckage, her eyes fixed on the behemoth ahead.

She let the gunship lock on her signature, letting it think she was predictable.

Then, she reversed her thrust in an insane move, cutting her core drive for a millisecond and letting the fighter stall.

The gunship fired. Missed.

She spun Pena up, corkscrewed under the blast arc, and landed right beneath its blind spot, the exposed cooling vents of its rail gun mount.

At the flick of her thumb, two fusion torpedoes launched.

They impacted a half-second later.

The Lombardi’s cannon erupted in a dazzling shockwave, spiraling into fragments.

The gunship listed, crippled, dead in the void.

She kept racing over its spine, releasing a third torpedo into one of its engine manifolds.

A blooming explosion detonated, destroying several decks and leaving a gaping hole in the side where a propulsion system once thrummed.

Xander barked a shocked, heated laugh over the link.

‘ Madre de todo . A knockout punch that took its teeth out.’

Savvine panted from the adrenaline, wild-eyed and flushed, her pulse singing.

‘Told you when I race and I fire, I kill.’

With the rail gun down, engines compromised, and the gunship faltering, the Lombardi warhorse was vulnerable.

Savvine surged forward, flicked her toggles, and launched a net disruptor drone.

It unfurled mid-flight, latching onto the enemy’s remaining engine core.

It froze, paralyzed, sputtered, and flared out.

The Santo Venado was dead in the water.

She eased in beside it and opened comms.

‘This is Chief Bianchi. Power down and surrender, or I’ll decorate space with your insides.’

A pause. Then the flickering lights.

They complied.

Xander’s Corvette drew alongside hers.

His bass slid into her node, hoarse and husky. ‘Well, well, mi cielo .’

She turned her head to gaze at him through a porthole. The glow of the battlefield reflected in her eyes, and victory pulsated in her veins.

‘Your girl’s still got it.’

‘Correction,’ he murmured, in smoky utterance. ‘My girl just took out the Lombardi’s crowning glory. Atta girl.’

The última Pena and última X coasted in alignment through the darkened star field. Toward the wounded Lombardi destroyer, the Santo Venado .

Its hull sparked from Savvine’s earlier assault, scorched and trailing thin wisps of coolant vapor.

The once-arrogant vessel now limped in silence, its engine core stilled, and its defense systems scrambled.

A cordon of Signet vessels regrouped out in the void around it.

Their clamps locked into place with twin clunks, and docking arms snared the port and starboard airlocks with mechanical finality.

Savvine observed the seal indicator go green. She drew her sleek matte-black laser hand gun from its holster on her thigh and turned to the hatch.

With her weapon leading, she prowled through the open airlock.

She met Xander, Kaal, Mak, Boaz, and Zev in the empty hallway, stepping out of a hatch.

They exchanged nods as she approached them.

Xander’s cool and precise rasp sounded over the command channel Miral must have hacked into.

‘This is Commander Roman of Signet Company. Chief Bianchi and I, together with the Signet strong guard, are coming aboard through the port side. Our infiltration team will enter through the starboard. We are fully armed and will return any fire sent our way. You will meet us at the bridge, unarmed, or suffer the consequences. End transmission.’

He tapped the comm off and arched a brow at her, that ember of battle-light in his violet eyes.

Savvine nodded again, silent.

With her weapon drawn, suit sealed, and HUD glowing pale blue, Savvine prowled deeper into the dim corridors of the Santo Venado .

The ship reeked of scorched metal and sweat, but her boots made no sound on the matte-finished alloy floors.

Xander stepped up to her six, his laser rifle brandished, his aura like thunder.

The star wolves and Savvine swept hard and fast through the narrow halls, signs of chaos everywhere.

Empty firearm racks. Half-spilled packs of contraband.

A blood smear on the wall near a dented ventilation grate, but no resistance.

‘Where is everyone?’ she muttered over the neural link.

‘Waiting,’ Xander replied grimly. ‘In the bridge, gathering together for comfort in their distress. Kaal, Zev, please sweep the ship and hunt down any last, hidden pockets of resistance.’

The two men nodded and prowled away as the rest of Signet kept tracking to the command centre.

They reached the final corridor.

Steel doors loomed ahead, faint light shining through their seams. Savvine and Xander exchanged a last glance.

He stepped forward and tapped a HUD control.

His shimmering helmet slid back, revealing his face. His eyes were still lit with battle craze, and his lips curled in a predator’s smile.

She did the same, meeting his heated gaze with measured wrath.

The aperture hissed open.

The control room was a circular chamber lined with crimson and gold paneling, the ostentation unmistakably Lombardi.

Velvet-padded consoles. Over-designed thrones for chairs. And a half-dozen lieutenants stood glaring, guns on the ground before them.

Although disarmed, they bristled with fury, tattoos, and pride.

At their center, one man sat forward in the captain’s throne, elbows on knees, hands knotted together.

Thick brows, a crooked nose, olive skin lined with sun and vice, his presence radiating deep-seated hate.

Savvine smirked. ‘Well, well.’

Xander strode in beside her, calm, lethal. ‘If it isn’t Don Salvadore Lombardi himself.’

The mob boss stood, mouth twisted in contempt.

‘ Fokk you, Alexandr-Alexandr Levine Roman,’ he spat. ‘You too, Savvine Bianchi.’

She smiled like a blade drawn. ‘Game. Set. Match.’

Don Salvadore Lombardi’s eyes flashed with venom as Savvine advanced, her posture unyielding.

His lips curled. ‘You treacherous little strega ,’ he sneered, and in a blink, drew a compact photon weapon from inside his jacket, aiming it straight at her heart.

Time fractured.

Before Savvine could react, Xander moved..

He stepped in front of her in a blur of motion, his chest blocking the shot milliseconds after the laser discharged.

An orchid bloom of power whipped from him, and his spectral lycan form burst from the mist of his shimmer.

Massive. Ancient. Crowned in violet flame, fur laced with radiant glyphs.

He snarled, a profound and shattering growl, as the bolt hit square in the chest.

Xander’s lycan form absorbed the blast, and the resulting glow shimmered all over his body.

His eyes turned into twin storms of controlled fury, a roiling amethyst and molten. The room plummeted in temperature, and the shadows thickened behind him.

Salvadore’s eyes narrowed. Slits of silver-black fire shimmered in his irises as he stepped down from his captain’s seat and fired again.

Xander moved too fast for the eye. The air blurred.

Vivid amethyst flames rippled outward as he took the second laser blast square in the chest.

Power curled around him, folding the light into his spectral form.

Salvadore’s face twisted. He released the weapon and threw back his head, roaring as his body cracked and reformed, clothes shredding from him.

He and his capos shifted into Lombardi wolves, jet-black with a silver sheen.

In size, they stood larger than most natural were-forms, muscles stacked atop muscle, eyes searing like lunar shards.

Their snouts were shorter, teeth long, their claws gleamed like daggers, and their markings pulsed with oil-black ink, each a badge of blood earned and lives ended.

Still, they were no match for the Signet pack, each a larger, even more phantasmal nightmare.

One lunged at Xander.

Another at Savvine.

Mak and Boaz surged from the shadows, shifting into spectral wolves.

They lunged and snarled within a bloom of violet-gilded energy, with amethyst-glow veins and ember trails flaming through their fur.

They collided with the Lombardis with such force that the entire deck vibrated.

Boaz, his pelage streaked with war-ash and lightning, caught an enemy wolf mid-air and crushed its ribcage with a single, brutal twist of his jaws.