Page 220 of Red Scale Daddy
“A touching reunion,” he says, and the speakers crackle with feedback. “You are making a mess of my ship.”
“Your ship is making a mess of itself.”
He laughs, low and oily. “Still proud. Still pretending control is something you own.”
Dux fires again, dropping a Zenos that skitters too close. “Roma, tell me he’s not in the system.”
“He’s in what remains of command,” I say, forcing the control thread open. “Trying to reclaim bulkhead authority.”
“Can he?”
“Yes.”
Dad’s voice jumps. “That was not the inspirational answer I wanted.”
Throgg’s tone sharpens. “You will not reach the launch spine. I have sealed the auxiliary bays. I have vented your routes. I have your pretty little choices in my hands.”
My jaw tightens. “He’s bluffing.”
Dux glances at me. “Is he?”
“No.”
“Roma.”
“He’s partially bluffing.”
“Better. Hate it, but better.”
The battle surges closer. A Zenos crashes into the wall above me, claws carving sparks from plating. Dux drags me down as a Reaper blade slices where my throat was. His shot explodes past my ear, deafening, and the Reaper drops.
Heat washes my cheek. The smell of scorched flesh follows.
I swallow and keep working.
Throgg’s voice lowers. “You always were useful under pressure. How charming that you now waste your talents saving lesser men.”
Dux’s eyes harden. “Lesser?”
Dad raises his weapon, shaking. “I know he’s probably talking about me, and frankly, rude.”
I rip another wire free. “Don’t engage.”
Throgg chuckles. “Let him snarl. It will make the breaking sweeter.”
Dux leans toward the speaker. “Come down here and try.”
“Dux,” I warn.
“What? He started it.”
“He wants you angry.”
“I am angry.”
“Then be useful with it.”
He turns back to the fight, firing clean and controlled.
