Hours ticked by, and the asteroid field seemed to stretch on forever, feeling almost like some sort of purgatory for the Ethereal. The sight of huge rocks looming in the gloom of the red and purple fog of the nebula had become very familiar by this point. It was a deceptively beautiful and peaceful sight, contrasting with the dangers of the asteroid field.

  Seated at her station, Senior Lieutenant Bren Shyka was reviewing the status of the Ethereal’s weapons. Hearing footsteps behind her, she glanced over to see Laceeya walk up the pair of short steps. Her command chair was a bit further back in the bridge, just behind the holotable. However, she always preferred to be standing at the fore of the bridge during a battle or any other sort of action, where she had a better view of space and was directly next to the main bridge crew.

  Furtively peering at Laceeya, Shyka could see the tension and exhaustion in her face. She hid it well, but Shyka knew her so intimately that she was able to see it. She sighed softly to herself. She knew how much Laceeya struggled with the burden of command, and Shyka worried constantly about her. Laceeya was strong, stronger than she herself realized, and Shyka knew she, and most others, couldn’t handle the stress of command or be as good of a leader as Laceeya. She could tell the recent loss of the TIE pilots, including their close friend, was eating away at Laceeya. Shyka admired just how strong she was, despite the responsibility she carried on her shoulders, Laceeya always remained calm and collected on the outside.

  Shyka was likewise doing her best to not think about the loss of her friend, but it was hard. She glanced over at Laceeya again, who was absently running her hands over the seam on the side of her uniform trousers, as she often did when she was anxious, while she stared out the viewport into the haze. Laceeya wasn’t just mourning the loss of their friend, but carrying guilt over the fact that those under her command, on her ship, had died. She felt they were her responsibility, and it was her job to keep them alive, and the way she thought, every death that happened was because she’d sent them into battle.

  Frowning to herself, Shyka wished she was able to help her more.

  “Commodore,” Shyka called out. Laceeya jerked almost imperceptibly as she was pulled out of her thoughts. “Just wanted to give you an update on our ordnance levels.” She gave a quick rundown of how many proton torpedoes, ion torpedoes, concussion missiles, and breacher missiles the Ethereal had left after the recent battles. They’d used up a good number, but still had at least half or more of a full load of each variety.

  “Thanks for the update, Shyka,” Laceeya said, giving her a faint smile..

  “Of course, ma’am,” Shyka responded. It was important for her to know the ordnance status, but Shyka knew she’d likely already checked from her command chair. Really, she’d just wanted to get Laceeya over here and hopefully keep her distracted from her thoughts. “It sure is pretty, isn’t it?” She gestured to the view lying ahead of the Ethereal.

  “It’s amazing,” Laceeya agreed. “And who knows what else is in it. The colors are beautiful.” It was true, the swirling mix of different shades of red and purple clouds all entwined together was incredible.

  “Reminds me of someone I know…” Shyka murmured thoughtfully.

  Laceeya narrowed her glowing red eyes, looking a little embarrassed, but a small smile was playing across her lips. She glanced over at where Ensign Frenara was seated at the sensor console only a couple meters to Shyka’s right. Despite their relationship, Laceeya always tried to keep things professional between them while on duty, as did Shyka herself. But…that didn’t mean she couldn’t make a little comment or minor display of affection like that every now and then. Frenara seemed to have found something incredibly interesting to look at on his display.

  Laceeya was looking down at her, staring at her face in profile.

  Shyka noticed her staring and smirked, throwing a glance Laceeya’s way. “Do you need something, Commodore?” She asked innocently.

  “I was just…looking over the weapons status,” Laceeya said, her face warming slightly again. Shyka was particularly skilled at making subtle yet flirty comments that caught Laceeya off guard. But she knew she didn’t mind, and anything that took her mind off the dark thoughts that plagued her was a benefit.

  “Ah, of course.” Shyka replied knowingly.

  From beside her, Frenara’s voice suddenly cut into the ambiance of the bridge. “Commodore!” He exclaimed. “I’m picking up that thing again. It’s moving around, coming in and out of our sensor range, to the starboard side.”

  Laceeya immediately snapped into action. “Ready the turbolasers and laser cannons and stand by to fire, and load concussion missiles in each launch tube,” She ordered. “If that thing comes into range, fire. Aim for the head if you can, its mouth and eyes are likely the most vulnerable parts.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Shyka replied, her hands already flying across her controls.

  Laceeya turned slightly to face the opposite row of consoles. “Apoyarp, be prepared to dodge around that thing if necessary. Bring the shields up to full power, Asmaril. And Frenara, keep me updated on that thing’s position.”

  They acknowledged her orders with a chorus of confirmations.

  “Still staying at the edge of our sensor range, ma’am.” Frenara reported.

  “Thanks Frenara.” Laceeya said with a brisk nod.

  Shyka double checked that the concussion missiles were readied in their launch tubes, and that the gunners were standing by. She stole a quick look out the viewport, but there was still nothing to see but the clouds of the nebula, and the large asteroid that Apoyarp was maneuvering the ship around.

  “It’s heading straight at us, Commodore,” Frenara called out.

  “Got it,” Laceeya said, nodding again in acknowledgment. “Apoyarp, Shyka, be ready.”

  Materializing from the haze like some image from a nightmare, the huge creature came into view, its long serpentine body twisting as it moved, heading straight towards the Ethereal’s bow. “Get ready to dive under that thing,” Laceeya snapped out. “Open fire with lasers, and once you get a shot lined up with missiles, take it.”

  ”Yes ma’am.” Shyka said, promptly relaying the order for her gunners to fire as it entered range, and brilliant green bolts of plasma shot out at the creature. Lasers impacted its body and head, and it thrashed slightly in pain but continued onward. Shyka tapped her foot softly in anticipation as the creature appeared to get bigger and bigger as it neared.

  “Lining up the shot right now…” She said slowly, as she carefully targeted the creature's head with the missile launchers, trying to get a solid lock as it twisted through space. Its thrashing movements made getting a lock difficult, but she diligently worked her console, her lips pursed in determination and focus.

  Finally the targeting indicator went green, and she successively launched two salvos of concussion missiles. “Missiles away.” Shyka stated, as the two pairs of ordnance arrowed in at the creature. Right after the missiles fired, the ship dove, its bow tilting downward as it maneuvered to avoid the huge creature. The monster clearly saw the incoming threat and turned to try and dodge the missiles, but Shyka had managed a strong target lock and they tracked it, with the first pair detonating against its head. The creature recoiled away from the blast, and the Ethereal slid beneath it.

  As the ship slipped by, the creature's tail whipped around, slamming into the hull of the Ethereal. The jarring impact shook the ship, and Shyka felt herself be jerked slightly in her seat.

  “Keep firing at that thing,” Laceeya commanded.

  The massive beast was off to the Ethereal’s starboard side, snapping its huge mouth in anger at the pain that was being inflicted upon it. Scanning her displays, Shyka made sure that concussion missiles had been reloaded and were ready in all the launchers. She felt her heart beating quickly in her chest as she focused on lining up another shot with the missiles.

  “Looks like it’s coming back, Commodore.” Frenara reported tightly. Snaking its long body around, the creature moved back towards the direction of the Ethereal. Laser blasts splashed across its armored scales as it weaved its way forward.

  “Understood,” Laceeya acknowledged. “Everyone be ready.”

  Clenching her jaw in determination and tapping her foot softly on the deck, Shyka worked her controls as she tried to achieve a solid targeting lock on the monster’s head.

  “Working on getting another lock right now.” Shyka said. She calmly focused on her task, patiently waiting for the opportune moment. She knew a hasty shot might miss, and they couldn’t afford that. The creature neared, and her targeting computer finally flashed green in confirmation. Waiting another second until she was sure the creature wouldn’t be able to dodge the projectiles, Shyka pressed the button to send two pairs of concussion missiles sailing toward the monster.

  With a flash of explosions, the missiles exploded against its mouth and head. The asteroid field outside the viewport shifted as Apoyarp again threw the ship into a tight and sudden turn. Glancing out the side viewport, Shyka saw the creature writhing in pain and rage from the missiles’ payloads.

  “Great shot, Shyka,” Laceeya said, as the ship continued through its turn.

  But the beast wasn’t going down without a fight. Twisting its body, the long tail whipped into the starboard side, smacking the middle of the ship around the docking port. Shyka saw that Laceeya had grabbed onto the viewport frame to brace herself against the impact. Everyone was jolted again in their seats from the creature’s attack.

  “Commodore, hull breach in section 6! That thing is breaking through our shields in that area.” Asmaril reported tensely.

  “Get that area evacuated and sealed off,” Laceeya snapped. “And get those shields up.”

  “Redistributing them now, ma’am.”

  Twisting around, the huge beast moved to strike at the Ethereal. Apoyarp tried to turn the ship out of the way, but there wasn’t time to get fully clear. Its head glanced off the middle of the ship, sending another jolt through the deck, and Shyka swallowed as her gunners continued to do their best firing at the monster’s head and eyes. She could see the wounds caused to it by the missiles, with raw skin showing where the explosions had torn through its thick scaly armor. Her heart was beating in her ears, but she didn’t allow fear to get a hold on her. There was another shaking impact from the monster’s tail hitting the Ethereal, as it passed over from the starboard to the port side.

  The monster had turned right around after it passed, its mouth wide open in anger. Shyka didn’t have time for a full targeting lock, she fired purely on instinct. The creature was preparing to clamp the ship in its huge jaws as the concussion missiles fired. They jetted out from the launchers, right down the throat of the creature. An explosion billowed out of its mouth as they detonated, and it jerked away from the ship. Stunned and wounded, the creature snapped its jaws together in rage and pain, its prey temporarily forgotten.

  “Fire another round at its head.” Laceeya ordered.

  “Yes ma’am.” Shyka replied, as a round of proton torpedoes were loaded. Proton torpedoes had a higher yield and were more powerful, however they were less effective at tracking targets. The creature was mostly stagnant now however, thrashing around in space. With the monster still, Shyka readied the torpedoes, and lined them up. Holding her breath, she got a lock on the creature, and immediately fired after the targeting computer went green.

  Thrashing around in the same spot, the beast was a far easier target than when it was moving, and the torpedoes arrowed in to strike its head. The large explosions blossomed outward, knocking its head back. Shyka let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “Is it…dead?” She asked, peering at the creature that lay still in space.

  Laceeya was staring out the viewport at the monster, her lips compressed in thought.

  “No,” Laceeya murmured as the beast’s tail twitched, and it began to move its head slightly. “But I don’t think it’ll give us any more trouble.”

  The Ethereal was driving away from the wounded creature, as it began to move a little more, slowly turning away to flee in the opposite direction. The huge beast leisurely slinked away, fading into the haze. Shyka glanced over at Laceeya leaning heavily against the frame of the viewport, seeing her sag slightly in relief for a brief second.

  Laceeya straightened up, pulling down on the bottom edge of her tunic to get rid of the creases.

  “Commodore,” Harax said. “The hull breach has been sealed off, there were two minor injuries, but they’re being brought to the medical bay and will be fine. I thought you’d like to know, ma’am.”

  “Yes, thank you Captain. That was some great flying, Apoyarp,” Laceeya said, her voice minutely shaky, inclining her head in his direction. “And Shyka, that was an amazing shot,” She gave Shyka a faint smile. “Great work, all of you. Hopefully we’ll be in the clear from here.” She called out, raising her voice to take in the whole bridge.

  Shyka was relieved that they’d been able to fight off the huge creature. Facing the animal was unpredictable and unlike what she, and the rest of the crew, were used to fighting. Hopefully its wounds had taught it a lesson not to mess with the Ethereal anymore.

  Glancing over at Laceeya once more, Shyka focused back on her console, looking over the status of weapons. If they encountered any more resistance in the nebula, they would need to be ready.

  Finally, the asteroid field thinned out and eventually ended, leaving only the murky clouds of the nebula ahead of the Ethereal. Laceeya was exhausted. Now they just had to find their way out, and get back to Nyar Three. She grimaced to herself. The Grysks were up to something in the Kwenast system, that much she was sure of. Some sort of new space station had been constructed, far quicker than the Kwenast would have been able to build on their own.

  Turning away from the viewport, Laceeya looked back at the bridge crew, all diligently working their stations. But she could tell they were tired too. As was the Ethereal itself, for that matter. They were coaxing the best speed possible out of the engines, but they’d been dealt damage and weren’t running as efficiently as they should.

  However, the most important thing was that they were alive. Significant time would need to be spent repairing the battered Ethereal, which was time that the Grysks would certainly be using to their advantage. Hopefully, high command would be able to send reinforcements to Nyar Three, but the fleet was spread thin and there was no guarantee. The Chaos was a vast place, with many threats and dangers that occupied the Hand’s forces.

  “Commodore,” Shyka called into her thoughts. “Any idea what that new orbital station was at the Kwenast homeworld?”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  Laceeya shook her head. “It must be a Grysk operation,” She said, voicing her previous thoughts. “But it could be anything. I’d think there’s a reason for it being at the Kwenast homeworld, with there being something unique about that location. But that’s just a feeling.”

  Shyka nodded. “This turned out to be a little more than a simple scouting mission,” She said grimly.

  “Yes,” Laceeya murmured. “With the Grysks involved, nothing is ever simple.”

  “Thats for sure. Surely they’ll return to Nyar Three, don’t you think?” Shyka asked.

  “There’s a reason they were there in the first place,” Laceeya agreed. “So I’d say so.”

  “The hyperspace route,” Shyka said.

  “They don’t want us interfering or causing problems for them if they plan to extend their activities into the region,” Laceeya said, inclining her head in a nod. “We’re lucky we were able to get to Nyar Three in time when they launched their attack, but I have a feeling that when they come back they’ll bring a larger force.”

  “Nyar Three remains vulnerable, with the damage our ships suffered, Commodore,” Harax spoke up as he walked over to peer over Apoyarp’s shoulder at the display. “Let us hope the technicians are able to quickly return them to battle readiness. There’s still the business of repairing the communications relay that was knocked out, ma’am. Being cut off from the ability to make communications contact with high command is another weakness the Grysks could exploit, Commodore.”

  “I agree, Captain,” Laceeya said. “Commander Denau and the Crux will have reached contact with command by now. Hopefully they’ll be waiting with some good news when we return.”

  “A Star Destroyer or two sure would be helpful if they could spare them,” Shyka said. “Things are getting pretty serious out here.”

  “The fleets spread pretty thin as is,” Laceeya voiced grimly. She was still worried about whether the Crux had even been able to reach command. Although the Nyar system was a key spot on the hyperspace route, there were other ways to sneak past the Nyar system. Those paths were an arduous journey, requiring significant time to navigate through and containing additional dangers, but the Grysks must have utilized them already to reach the comm relay.

  Since they’d done that, Laceeya knew it was a possibility, however slim, that they’d snuck through and set up an ambush with a gravity well generator to intercept the Crux. “High command will certainly send something, but I wouldn’t count on an ISD.”

  Laceeya kept her fears about the safety of the Crux to herself. It was out of their control, and voicing those fears to the others wouldn’t do anything to help.

  “Lieutenant,” Laceeya said, getting Apoyarp’s attention. “How long until we can get out of the nebula and back to the hyperspace route?”

  Looking closely at his displays, Apoyarp pressed a few buttons on his console. “We were in pretty deep running from the Kwenast, Commodore,” He reported. “And the rightmost main engine is only running at 81% efficiency, so I can’t push it too much. At our current speed, it’ll be roughly six and a half hours.”

  “Understood. Thanks, Apoyarp.” Laceeya said.

  “No problem, ma’am.” He replied with a faint smile.

  Six and a half hours was still a ways to go, and from there it would still take another two days almost to reach Nyar Three. Laceeya sighed quietly. Who knew how long the battered Ethereal would be stuck in drydock after that. The near future clearly held additional conflict with the Grysks, and the ship needed to be at its best. She winced, looking out over the prow of the Ethereal. Her ship was precious to her, and Laceeya felt guilty about all it had been put through lately.

  Her heart sank, thinking again about the brave pilots who’d died in the recent battles. Laceeya knew all the pilots in the squadron, but Joak Cartova had been a close friend. He was a kind, soft spoken man, with a warm sense of humor. Many of the crew would deeply mourn his loss, Laceeya included. There’d been a number of casualties to crew members as well, but luckily they were injuries only.

  It could have been a lot worse, Laceeya thought darkly. Gravity well generators were powerful tools, and Laceeya felt a bit frustrated with herself for not foreseeing the trap. But no, she had considered the possibility. She’d weighed the risks, and the need for intel won over. Pursing her lips in thought, Laceeya decided that the knowledge of knowing the Kwenast were under Grysk control, and that the Grysks had some secretive operations going on at the Kwenast homeworld made the mission worth it. She had to try and find some meaning in the loss of life.

  “Commodore Laceeya,” Apoyarp said. “Looks like we’re passing by a planet.”

  Laceeya looked over at the navigation display screen. The nebula was vast and difficult to explore, and thus wasn’t fully mapped out. They had a general idea of where they were in it, but the specifics inside of the huge cluster of gas were largely unknown. The thick purple and red fog greatly limited sensor range, and because of that factor and the huge size of the Sharasil nebula, it remained unexplored.

  Out the viewport, Laceeya could see the form of a planet materializing from the clouds, filling the view ahead of the Ethereal. It wasn’t much to see, really just a big grey rock. Only a small portion of the world was visible, with the rest obscured by the haze.

  Shifting slightly, the Ethereal angled into a smooth and gradual turn to avoid the planet and its gravity well. Laceeya wondered what hid inside all the clouds of gas. Planets, forming stars, asteroids, and countless mysteries. The Ethereal had encountered that massive creature in the asteroid field, so who knew what else was out there in the haze.

  Turning away from the viewport, Laceeya walked back to the rear of the bridge. “Captain,” She said to Harax. “The bridge crew needs a rest, could you put in the order for the off-duty secondary crew to report to the bridge?“

  “Yes, Commodore,” Harax replied with a brisk nod. “May I suggest, ma’am, that you need some rest yourself?” Ho politely asked with a lifted eyebrow.

  Compressing her lips together, Laceeya reluctantly agreed. “I guess so,” She said hesitantly. “With all the challenges we’ve come across lately, it feels like anything could happen at any time, and I’d hate to be off the bridge in that case.”

  “I understand that Commodore,” Harax conceded. “But we all need to be at our best in case danger does strike. That requires you to be adequately rested.”

  “I know, Captain,” Laceeya said with a faint smile. “I’ll be heading to my quarters in a few minutes. I’d like to oversee the shift change before I leave.”

  A few minutes later, the door at the rear of the bridge slid open, the secondary bridge crew filing in.

  “Lieutenant Apoyarp,” Laceeya called out as a young woman with an Ensign’s rank plaque on her chest walked over to the helm console to stand beside Apoyarp. “Be sure to give Ensign Barklii a rundown on the navigation route.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He replied, and began conversing with Barklii to prepare for the shift rotation.

  Turning around, Laceeya watched as the officers and crew swapped out, making sure everything was going smoothly. As she’d expressed to Harax, she was hesitant to leave the bridge with all the dangers the Ethereal had encountered recently.

  But he was right. She was tired, her eyes felt heavy, and the stress of battle had left her with an uncomfortable headache. She felt strangely distant and detached, a numb and empty feeling inside of her.

  Giving the senior off duty bridge officer–a man named Lieutenant Commander Preshaw– a briefing of everything, Laceeya scanned the bridge, lingering a moment longer. She noticed Harax still standing reluctantly around. ”You too, Captain.” She said.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “I was just waiting to be sure you left yourself, ma’am.” Harax countered.

  “Fine,” Laceeya said with a tired smile. “We’ll go together.” They departed the bridge, and began making their way to their rooms.

  Walking down the corridor to her quarters, Laceeya was filled with exhaustion. She’d spent much of the day standing, going from the viewport to various stations around the bridge. It had been an intense day, and she couldn’t wait to collapse in her bed and sleep.

  Arriving at the door to her room, she pressed the control, and with a hiss the door slid open.

  Bren was waiting, seated on the edge of the bed, wearing a grey tank top and shorts. Laceeya stepped in, closing the door behind her.

  “Hey,” Bren greeted her, smiling wearily. “Long day.”

  “Long day,” Laceeya agreed with a sigh. “The ship took a beating. They may not have killed us, but it still benefits the Grysks to have us stuck completing repairs.” She pursed her lips in frustration. “They’re up to something, Bren.”

  “They always are,” Bren said. “But we’ll be ready for them. Try not to worry about that right now, okay? You need some rest.”

  Laceeya was silent a moment before responding. “I can’t believe we lost Joak,” She said, her voice quiet.

  “I know,” Bren replied softly. “Me too.”

  Stepping over to the bed, Laceeya sat down wearily next to Bren. She felt numb. It was like her mind was trying to tell her it hadn’t happened, despite the fact that she’d seen her friend’s fighter get vaporized before her eyes. There was just a hollow feeling in her stomach, and a strange dissociation from everything.

  They sat in silence together, Bren giving Laceeya a worried look but not yet saying anything. Laceeya had lost friends before, but it never got easier. How many more friends, colleagues, subordinates, would be lost? She didn’t have an answer for that. But she did know it would be too many.

  Faces of the dead flashed through Laceeya’s mind. People she’d failed to save.

  Bren laid an arm around her shoulder. “Hey,” She said gently. “I can tell you’re spiraling. I know what you’re thinking. You know as well as I do that it’s not your fault.” Bren paused looking over at Laceeya. Laceeya raised her head, gazing into Bren’s brown eyes. “This is war. People die, and you’re forced to carry the weight and burden of that far more than most. But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

  “I guess I know that, deep down,” Laceeya conceded. “The problem is actually believing it.”

  ”I know. Let’s get some rest, okay?” Bren said, giving Laceeya a reassuring smile. “You’ll feel a bit better after you get some sleep.” Laceeya nodded, and leaned over to wrap her arms tightly around Bren, resting her chin on her shoulder. She took comfort in the warmth of Bren’s body, the feeling of her arms around her.

  After a moment, Laceeya forced herself to get up and get undressed, and got ready for bed. Staring at the mirror, Laceeya had the feeling that she was looking at someone else, and not herself. Splashing cold water on her face to try and combat the feeling of dissociation, she took a deep breath, letting it slowly out. She still felt unable to shake the empty numbness inside her.

  Exiting the refresher, Laceeya joined Bren where she lay in the bed. Crawling under the blankets, she snuggled up close against her. Bren shifted an arm over, running her fingers slowly through Laceeya’s dark blue-black hair.

  Bren leaned over to gently kiss Laceeya, feeling the soft touch of Bren’s lips against her own. “Sleep well, okay?” Bren whispered into her ear. “I’m here if you need anything, so don’t hesitate to wake me.”

  “Thanks, Bren,” Laceeya said in return. “Same goes for you.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t dare,” Bren said mock-seriously. “An important Commodore such as yourself needs her sleep.”

  Laceeya snorted gently, smiling. ”Goodnight, Bren,” She said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Bren replied, giving her a warm smile in return. She reached over to flip a switch, turning out the dim glow panels.

  Eventually, Laceeya dozed off, falling into a restless sleep.

  Laceeya woke to the sound of alarms blaring loudly in her ears. She rolled out of bed, noticing Bren was already gone. Grabbing her comlink, she keyed in the bridge, and began quickly pulling on her uniform.

  “Commodore!” Rikal’s voice urgently came through the comm. “We’d arrived back at Nyar Three to find a huge Grysk fleet. We’re under attack.” As if to drive her point home, the Ethereal shook violently. Laceeya managed to catch herself on the edge of the bed.

  “I’ll be right there.” Laceeya said, closing the comm. More shudders ran through the deck beneath her feet. Her mind felt hazy, and her body practically seemed to move itself without her telling it to.

  Hastily sealing her uniform, she rushed out the door as another few impacts jarred the ship, jogging down the corridor. The doors to the bridge slid open, and she arrived to find a scene of pure destruction and chaos in space ahead. Grysk warships filled the view, streams of lasers and missiles pouring out from them. All of the Ethereal’s turbolasers and laser cannons were blazing, green flashes of light streaking out at the swarms of enemy ships.

  Laceeya saw their most powerful ship, the Victory-Class Star Destroyer Shadow’s Bane, with gouges deep into its hull and covered in flames. As she watched, a Raider-Class corvette broke apart under a withering barrage from a Grysk destroyer.

  “…Help us…taking heavy fire!” A static filled voice was calling from over the comm. “We need…Commodore, help…” The voice cut off, leaving only static remaining. Laceeya could hear her heart pounding in her ears.

  “Commodore, what are your orders?” Harax asked, his voice tight. Laceeya opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find any words. Her body seemed frozen, unable to move. A volley of missiles struck the bow of the Ethereal, violently shaking the whole ship. She managed to catch herself on the back of Shyka’s seat.

  Shyka glanced up at Laceeya, her normally confident expression instead replaced by fear. Laceeya felt her stomach turn. She’d failed Bren, the woman she loved. She’d failed the whole crew.

  “What are your orders?” Harax demanded. More voices were coming in from the comm, requesting help. But they ended one by one as Laceeya saw the Hand’s remaining ships get completely torn apart by the massive Grysk fleet. A massive explosion erupted through Shadow’s Bane, and the once mighty ship began to split in half.

  But Laceeya still couldn’t seem to find any words. All she could think of was the death and destruction happening. Her breathing was shallow and fast, her heart felt like it wanted to jump out of her chest.

  She saw the Ethereal’s TIE Squadron sweep through the battle, hordes of Grysk fighters picking them off one by one. A sick sensation grew in her stomach.

  “All shields are down!” A voice called desperately from behind.

  Out the viewport, Laceeya saw a barrage of a dozen missiles being launched from one of the Grysk destroyers, arrowing in on the Ethereal.

  “Fire on those missiles.” Laceeya heard herself say, finally able to speak.

  “Yes ma’am.” Shyka replied, her voice quavering slightly. That wasn’t like Bren at all, Laceeya thought. It pained Laceeya deeply to see her afraid. The sick feeling inside her rose, an overpowering nausea filled with guilt and dread. I failed her, I failed everyone.

  Lasers lanced out toward the approaching missiles, but Ethereal’s typically pinpoint accurate gunners seemed unable to hit them. Lasers stitched the space around them, but somehow not a single one hit.

  “Close the viewport blast shields.” Laceeya ordered. She looked expectantly out the viewport where concealed thick armored panels were supposed to slide over to cover the windows. Yet nothing happened.

  “I said close them!” Laceeya snapped, her mind racing. The missiles were getting closer heading straight toward the bridge. The blast shields still remained open.

  Laceeya looked around, finding all the officers and crew looking at her. Their faces were a mix of fear and disappointment. She felt incredibly nauseous and lightheaded. I got them into this. I failed to protect them.

  Bren’s gaze cut into her, seeing her warm brown eyes filled with despair. Laceeya felt tears come to her own eyes.

  “You failed them,” A voice spoke from behind. Laceeya spun around. A figure in a black TIE pilots flight suit stood before her, his arms crossed. It was her friend Joak, a mixture of disappointment and anger on his face. “Just like you failed me.”

  Laceeya couldn’t find any words. She felt tears wet her eyes. She felt her body turn back to face the viewport.

  The volley of missiles were approaching, nearing the bridge. Laceeya knew this was the end, but all she could think about was how she’d failed her crew. Tears were running down her face, and her eyes again met with Bren’s. She wanted to run to her, but her legs felt stuck, like they weren’t connected to her body. As the missiles neared, all she could do was lock eyes with the woman she loved, knowing her imminent death was Laceeya’s own fault. Laceeya’s mouth opened to speak, trying to tell Bren how much she loved her, how sorry she was for failing her. But no words came.

  Fire billowed out as the first few of the missiles successively exploded against the viewport. It shrugged off the initial explosions, but more kept coming and burst through. The last thing Laceeya saw was a bright flash of light.

  Laceeya jerked awake with a cry, gasping for breath. Sitting up in bed, confused and afraid, her eyes flicked around the room.

  “Hey,” Bren said softly, resting a hand on Laceeya’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m here.” Laceeya flinched initially at her touch, before realizing it was Bren and attempting to reorient herself with her surroundings.

  “Sorry.” Laceeya murmured, her voice cracking. She leaned against Bren and wrapped her arms around her, clinging to her tightly. The images and feelings of the nightmare were stuck with her, running repeatedly through her head.

  “It’s okay,” Bren said quietly, holding Laceeya in her arms.”It’s over now. You're safe, okay?”

  Laceeya gulped in a few more breaths, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to calm herself. “Okay,” She whispered, noticing she was trembling. “It felt so real.” She couldn’t get the image of Bren, looking up at her with despair in her eyes, knowing she was about to die. The picture of Joak, staring at her accusingly, haunted her mind. And the feeling that it was Laceeya’s fault, her fault that the entire crew of the Ethereal, and the other ships would die because of her.

  Laceeya realized tears were starting to run down her face. She squeezed her glowing red eyes shut, trying to focus instead on the feeling of Bren holding her tightly in her arms. Laceeya inhaled deeply, taking a deep breath. But the tears kept coming.

  Noticing Laceeya’s crying, Bren pulled back just far enough to look into her glowing red eyes. Bren’s expression was filled with concern and worry. Averting her gaze, Laceeya sniffled, and brushed a hand over her face in an attempt to wipe away the tears.

  “It’s okay,” Bren repeated. “You can let it out.”

  Laceeya just nodded slightly as her body shook from crying, not knowing what to say. She felt embarrassed that she, a commander of a formidable task force of warships, was sobbing in her room from a bad dream. Reaching over, Bren gently brushed a lock of hair away that had fallen into Laceeya’s eyes. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, and her sobs racked her whole body.

  Bren pulled her close again, and Laceeya buried her face against Bren’s shoulder. She was squeezing Bren very tightly, she realized, but she didn’t want to let go or loosen her hold on her.

  “If you need to talk about it, I’m here, okay?” Bren murmured in her ear. “I’m sorry I can’t do more to help.”

  “You are,” Laceeya replied. She didn’t know what she’d do if Bren wasn’t here. Her presence felt like the only thing that was keeping her grounded in reality, the only thing keeping her safe.

  “I love you, Laceeya,” Bren said. “More than I could ever love anyone or anything in the galaxy. Just know that.” She shifted her position slightly, pulling Laceeya closer to her body.

  “I know.” Laceeya managed hoarsely, her voice wavering.

  They sat together for a while, clutching each other tightly. Laceeya continued to lean against Bren and cry, her tears wetting the smooth skin of her shoulder. Her sobs heaved her chest as she gasped for breath. Bren stroked a hand through her dark hair in silence.

  Finally, Laceeya felt the tears slow, her breathing becoming more steady.

  “Don’t let go,” Laceeya whispered.

  “I’m not,” Bren assured her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  A powerful sensation of fear and guilt hung over Laceeya, resting heavily on her. The nightmare had provided a chilling reminder of the loss of her friend. The feelings of fear at the thought of Bren dying were palpable, almost unbearable.

  She was still tired, but the idea of returning to sleep filled her with dread. Laceeya didn’t want to risk entering another terrible nightmare. She laid clutching tightly to Bren, with the reassuring pressure of her arms and body against her own. Bren stayed awake, comforting Laceeya. After what felt like forever, Laceeya drifted off again into a dreamless sleep.