I remain at attention, not sure what to do or say. Did Chief Nekkal expect a response?

"At ease Zea." Running a hand through his mussed-up black hair like it was the millionth time that day, Nekkal does the most un-Zukrog thing ever. He lets me see his emotions behind his eyes.

Zukrog's have one very distinct and strange feature. Well, besides their alabaster skin and pointy ears. Their hair changes colour on a whim, usually with their emotions or physical distress.

All military-trained Zukrog learn how to suppress their emotions and usually keep their hair either devoid of colour, pure white, or black.

Black is said to be easier as it is as simple as harnessing your feelings of anger and aggression. Dark thoughts equalled dark hair. When in battle, not hard to do.

White is another story. Only those from the royal bloodline, or the descendants of the original Priests and Priestesses, seem to have that ability. It means they can fully detach themselves emotionally from their physical form.

Or so I have been told.

There is a lot of speculation about what that implies, but unless you are a part of the group, you'll never know. So for Nekkal to even let me see a glimpse of the turmoil behind his eyes is surprising.

"We have new information from the Orikai. We don't have much time. We have already cleared the last continent of survivors. The Species Salvation Team and Historical Artifact Recovery Team have been sent back to the station." The storm brewing behind Nekkal's eyes seems to intensify.

Damn! Those are Armada's real moneymakers. Armada always makes themselves look good by publicly broadcasting how they "saved" the latest planet or planets from war.

Or, in this case, how they saved an entire species from going extinct, along with the planet's unique wildlife, vegetation and historical artifacts. Yup, it makes you look damn good to save an entire species along with their heritage.

What they don't broadcast, though, is the large sums of credits they will get selling the plants and animals to the highest bidders.

Exotic animals and plants are a huge black market industry in the Universe these days. Some of the Human's historical artifacts will end up in a museum. Armada won't pass up the opportunity to make a daily income on them, but others, the ones that are worth big money, will be replicated, and the originals sold like the animals and plants.

I don't have much respect any more for Armada. I had enlisted young, buying their bullshit. Now they remind me of a scavenger pickpocketing the dead bodies of war for whatever they can make a profit on. There isn't anything honourable about it.

Armada is amazingly clever at twisting their motives and actions. So much so that hundreds of Galaxies have united, announcing Armada as the Multi-Galaxy Peace Keepers. All bullshit.

Yet if the money makers have been sent home, most likely job done, that almost explains why it is time to go. They won't keep us here if there is no more money to be made.

Part of me suspected the calvary wouldn't come until the money mission had been completed. I have a brief moment of regret for the people here. Their lives have been pretty much normal in the compounds. Not varying much from the way they had lived before we arrived. Today that changed. Dramatically!

It isn't my problem. None of it is. That's why you can't bring emotions into your mission. Eventually, you always have to move on.

For some reason, my mind wanders to Nadia again. Fuck.

I had wanted to learn more from her. Again, not my place or my problem anymore. I am fighting to control my frustration. It's not working.

They are probably being forced onto one of the four ships at gunpoint as I stand here. Should I mention the cannibalism?

I feel myself getting pissy. This stinks. The whole thing stinks to the stars. What am I going to do about it, though? Not a damn thing. Time to move on, so I finally speak.

"Permission to speak, Sir?"

"Granted." The Commander-in-chief permits me. If I had been a proper Marshal, he would be my boss, so to speak. I get the feeling neither of us wants this.

"It has come to my attention we may have missed survivors on our sweep of this continent."

This is bloody embarrassing, but I will be punished more if they find out later without my confession. As my mother always said, "If you're afraid of something, do that first. Once you've faced your fears, they lose the power to scare you."

She will never know how right she had been.

I swallow my trepidation and keep my face blank, staring directly at the Commander. His eyes narrow coldly at me. Yup, I am fucked.

He turns, stepping a few feet away, mumbling something into his communicator that I can't hear. He comes back looking only slightly less annoyed.

"We'll take care of it, Captain Zea!" He says the last part like it is the worst insult in history.

Perhaps if I gave a fuck what Commander-in-chief of lying, cheating, stealing dishonourable douchebags thought, I would be offended. Yet the idea of being demoted to captain instead of returning to being a Major, stings a little if I am honest.

Between my training and lack of 'give a damn,' though it is easy to keep my expression blank at his jibe.

Until he continues, that is. "I am sure you did all you could, Captain. I am sure it was unavoidable. Especially with your inexperience."

What the fuck is this guy's issue? He sure has some serious hate on. But he succeeded. I am finally pissed off.

"With all due respect, if it is so damn easy for you and your men, Commander-in-chief, why the hell have we been here for so long? Perhaps we wouldn't have had to deal with the Zu'Lar. Perhaps soldiers wouldn't have had to die needlessly... Sir."

I keep my voice in control, only letting the tiniest hint of my contempt slide through. I am pissed, but I am not completely stupid. Well, that may be debatable.

I am already at risk of severe punishment as it is. The Commander's nostrils are flaring, but he keeps his hair black and face stony. Impressive control.

"Enough, Izka. Your penis is bigger, don't worry." The Secretary of Defense, her name still escaping me, shoots the Commander an impatient glare. "We'll discuss her rank and competence at a later date, as I had already said." She is pissed too. It is easy to see there is no love between them. I get the feeling she wants to rip his throat out.

Looking back at me, she schools her features, removing the death glare from her eyes and replacing it with a look of admiration and respect. Huh?

I somehow manage to keep my face blank, even though this unexpected act has shaken me to my core. She has to be to playing with me. Well, I will play along. Why not. Then she shocks me again by sticking out her arm in greeting.

"Sorry, I should have introduced myself. But time is short, as mentioned. I am Sica, Secretary of Defense for the United Galaxies." I try to control my surprise, but I can't help the slight hesitation as I reach out to grasp her forearm in the Universal greeting of friends.

"We don't have much time before the Zu'Lar figure out how to get around the damage we have done to their ship." Ahhhh, the explosion in the sky that at any minute would turn what is left of this continent into a pile of dust.

My eyebrows lift at this revelation. Damaging a Zu'Lar ship is impressive, but she continues like it is nothing. No big deal. We finally found a way to damage that massive Zu'Lar ship. You know, everyday stuff.

"Once they do, their military personnel on the planet will be here in a heartbeat. I suggest you have your men get on board one of the ships as soon as possible so we can be on our way. We plan to warp out within three planetary hours. But we need you to come with us right now, Zea. That's an order."

"We had to remove some people from the compounds for security purposes..." I trail off. It sounds so wrong when I say it out loud, but a vision of Britt in the back of my mind forces the words out.

"We are aware. We have read the reports. Not to worry, all living persons on the planet will be collected unless the Zu'Lar find them first. We cannot afford to engage with them at this time."

Collected. Now there is an appropriate word.

I hope Britt has stayed safe. I think of him as I had seen him last. I am not sure he will have made healthy choices, but I can hope. This is so fucked up. Suddenly I am not very successful at controlling my emotions. How long did it take them to clear the last continent?

We have been stuck here for six fucking sun rotations. Unnecessarily if you ask me. The moneymakers should have been here without us struggling to survive on this dying shit hole and fighting off the Zu'Lar. What the hell was Armada playing at?

However, I have no right to answers, and I am in no position to ask questions. So I need to get over it.

Breathing in deep through my nose, I nod to Sica. Giving my silent understanding.

I find myself struggling with one last thing. I need to decide what I want to do. For some reason, I can't shake the image of Nadia's face. The whole thing has gotten to me. I can't explain why.

I almost don't say anything but finally, decide I will hate myself more if I don't.

"The three small encampments to the South have several Humans who have turned cannibal. I just found out moments before your arrival. We don't know the exact numbers or who. But they haven't shown any effort to control it."

I feel like shit. It is incredibly possible children will now be aggressively extracted from their parents while everyone is tested. Armada is all about efficiency, not tact. But it is better than finding a half-eaten Human on the ship at a later date.

"That's extremely unfortunate," Sica says it like it is truly a shame, but her eyes hold no sympathy. She taps something wrapped around her wrist, it flickers to life, and she speaks, "Captain Gour."

"Here, Lady Secretary."

"The encampments you are rounding up in the South, they have a cannibal issue. Quarantine everyone until we have time to test them." She states it so matter of fact. Like she hasn't just commanded the imprisonment of innocent men, women, children, old and sick alike along with the cannibals.

I feel my stomach churn in distaste. She is cold and efficient. I see why she is the Secretary. It is out of my hands. I hear Captain Gour give confirmation. I turn to my Lieutenant-Generals. Well, I guess they aren't mine anymore.

"You heard. Pass it on, and hopefully, I will see you all up top when this is all over."

I look at each of them, making sure to make eye contact, connecting one last time. I want to give them what reassurance I can. This should all work out. It always does, as long as you keep your head down and do as you are told.

Now and again, something happens to you, giving you the warm fuzzies. I'll be honest. I haven't had many of those in my life.

So right now, as all of the Lieutenant-General's stand at attention, saluting me, chorusing, "Yes Marshal!", giving me their support in more ways than one, I am beyond moved.

Part of me wants to turn smugly to the Commander. So there, asshole. But that won't do anyone any good. Even though I may not be classy, I do have some dignity. So I ignore the Commander. Instead, I turn to Sica.

"Lead the way Lady Secretary. I am ready when you are."

I see a slight smirk play at her fur-lined lips. She noticed. Maybe her respect for me has just jumped a notch? Perhaps not, but she enjoyed my men's direct jab at the Commander's attempt to demean my position here. They may as well have all flipped him a rude hand gesture.

"Is there anything else Gentlemen, or may we proceed and brief Zea on her next mission?"

Whoa! What?

I see her smirk grow a little more prominent as a wicked glint touches her eyes.

Fuck!