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here?”
    “No, they were just jumping away from the main battle for a moment and didn’t realize we were waiting.”
    “But what if more come?”
    Releasing one of his hands, Athee ran her fingers through his hair. She touched his mind and tried to sooth his troubled thoughts. If more come, we will fight to defend Tgren .
    “We won’t fight alone, either.”
    Turning to face her mate, she shot him a puzzled look. Byron approached them, his fingers adjusting his fresh shirt.
    “Another flagship, the Litheron, will arrive tomorrow. Three Cassan flagships should discourage them from getting too close to Tgren,” he said.
    Bassan’s fingers slipped from hers, and he moved toward his father. Byron’s arms dropped to his side and he looked down at his son. Without speaking, Bassan reached for one of his father’s hands. They stared at each other for a moment, and Athee waited for her mate’s reaction. Byron was tired and hungry, his mind preoccupied. He handled their son better after an hour or two of relaxation time. To her surprise, he smiled and tousled Bassan’s hair.
    “If the Vindicarn come anywhere near Tgren, they won’t know what hit them,” Byron said.
    “Did you shoot any today?” said Bassan, bouncing on his toes.
    “I’ll tell you about it before you go to bed. Right now I need some food in me.”
    Athee retrieved two bowls, a smile on her face. Her mate had handled that well. Even after twenty years, Byron still knew how to impress her.
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    Byron could hear the angry voices emitting from the counsel room all the way down the hall. He grasped his computer tablet tighter and clenched his teeth. Today’s meeting would be volatile at best.
    His liaison officer strode ahead of him, her boots striking the floor with force. Pausing just inside the doorway, Athee waited until Byron joined her before announcing his presence to those gathered.
    “Cassan Commander Byron, in attendance!” she said, using her mental voice as well to draw attention.
    The voices paused. Byron surveyed the room of prefects and council members with caution. Judging from the numbers, every city and tribe had sent representatives. Those gathered stared at Byron and his senior squadron leader for a moment before launching a volley of questions and accusations their direction.
    Byron’s body went rigid and his head pounded. He was in no mood for this today.
    “If you don’t want us here, we can pack up and leave!” Byron said, broadcasting loud enough to silence the protests. “Let the Vindicarn come in and strip Tgren clean of all resources. Is that what you want?”
    “You don’t have the authority…” said a visiting prefect, his words spluttering with indignation.
    Byron glared at the man. “I am commander of the Cassan base, and if you were to determine we’re not wanted, I’d instruct the Nacinta to retrieve all personnel before nightfall.”
    The room fell into shocked silence, broken only by the scuffling of shoes. His mind shielded, Byron caught only a whisper of his mate’s surprise. It wasn’t an empty threat, although not the path he would choose. Byron forced his anger to subside. He had to remain in control of this meeting.
    “However, it is not my intention to abandon Tgren,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “The war has entered your solar system, whether you like it or not. The Vindicarn and Narcon will invade your planet regardless of your position.”
    Those gathered shifted in their seats. One prefect leaned forward on the table, his grizzled features contorted. “Those races wouldn’t be here now if not for your presence,” Anchore said.
    Holding his indignation at bay, Byron scowled at the man. “If we weren’t here, then the Vindicarn would’ve already come and gone.”
    The man’s lip twitched, his dark eyes giving no sign of acceptance. Before Anchore could utter another word, Prefect Enteller intervened.
    “Gentlemen, we are not here to throw