8
Drake shot upright in bed, his heart hammering. He reached out to activate the lights then froze, worried he’d be greeted by only the emergency lighting.
He gritted his teeth and forced his hand out. The lights came on… the main lights, not the emergency lighting. Drake let out the breath he’d been holding but he wasn’t finished. He focused hard on his link to the Azimuth, making sure the hellship was pushed as far from his mind as was possible.
Convinced he was truly awake this time he checked there were no messages queued for his attention. There were none. He could relax… or try to at least.
The initial fear he’d felt on waking was fading now, replaced by anger. Anger at the Azimuth and anger at himself for being duped.
Now he was awake he could spot holes in the nightmare
