Chapter Twenty-Three
Destin stood frozen, staring across the open area of the base where he had been fighting. Smoke, fires, bodies, and the destroyed remains of both Trivator and Drethulan fighters littered the area. The remains of the burning Drethulan pods covered the area.
The acrid smell was so overwhelming that Destin had removed his outer T-shirt and wrapped it around his nose and mouth. He hadn’t bothered replacing it after talking to Sula. His gaze locked on Cutter. They had been fighting together for the last several hours.
“What is it?” Cutter asked.
“Mason is dead. Prymorus has Sula,” Destin replied. “I need your assistance.”
Cutter grimly nodded. “Where are they?” he asked.
“The old Adler Planetarium,” Destin responded. “Prymorus wants an off-planet transport.”
“I know
