The four Prillon warriors standing guard with him looked at me like I had lost my mind. Perhaps I had, but it was about damned time. I outranked all of them, plus the young Atlan, and the young Prillon standing at the control panel that would bring down the barrier. I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit.
“Open it and get out. That’s an order. He’s mine. My mate. And I’m not going to ask again.”
The Prillons looked to the Atlan for a decision, not because the Atlan outranked them—they were all third-year cadets based on the stripes on their uniforms—but because the Atlan understood what was happening here in a way the others could not.
“He might kill you, Captain,” he warned. “He might kill you and not know what he’s doing.” The Atlan’s deep rumbling voice reminded me of Angh’s, but it sound
