By Jean Johnson
Her tale started within the nationwide bestsellers A Soldier?™s accountability and An Officer?™s accountability. Now Ia is captain and commander on the helm of Hellfire, the place she is ultimately loose to chart the direction for the success of her destiny…
As captain, Ia needs to now gather a team which can upward thrust to the final word problem of saving the galaxy. the toughest half should be getting them to think her, to belief in her prophecies. in the event that they don?™t, her personal workforce will prove being the largest concern in her race opposed to time.
The Salik are breaking in the course of the Blockade, plunging the recognized galaxy into conflict. Ia can't cease it this time, nor does she are looking to. this is often the negative rate she has obvious all along?"that a few needs to pay with their lives in order that others may dwell. Now basically time itself can end up even if every one member of her group is in simple terms a soldier or actually considered one of Ia?™s Damned.
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Additional info for Hellfire
Y…You…” the greying brunette panted, eyes wide. ” Carefully, she lowered the older woman back to her feet. “I apologize for my instinctive reaction just now—and I’m grateful I didn’t hurt you with my combat reflexes—but it was either grab you with my mind, or let you injure your mind precognitively. ” Licking her lips, the woman clutched her portable workstation in her dark brown arms and nodded. “Uh, yes, sir. We’ve completed your roster for you, Captain. All it needs is your…your…I can’t believe I’m saying this,” the reservist master sergeant muttered, her shock fading, replaced by a touch of startlement-induced anger.
It’s incredibly shortsighted of them because I’m not their enemy, but there it is. ” She glanced briefly at Sergeant Plimstaad. “And I did mean it when I said do not touch me. You do not want to see what is inside my head; I’m dealing with scales that most people aren’t prepared to deal with, at speeds that would give you a raging migraine. “I do thank you for your efforts on my behalf,” Ia added. “I’ll try to be quick about this, but there are a lot of lives at stake. ” Closing her eyes, Ia breathed deep and let it out, then did it again, calming and centering her mind.
Arstoll it is, then. ” Ia shook her head. “I won’t sign that, Sergeant. ” The impatient question came from the oldest man in the room, and the only soldier whose rank matched her own. The main differences between them were that he wore brown stripes on his black uniform, and that his brass eagle did not carry the rockets in its claws that hers did, making her a ship’s captain and him a lieutenant colonel. As dark-skinned as the sergeant, but with three times as many wrinkles and none of the hair, Lieutenant Colonel Luu-Smith flicked his hand irritably.
Hellfire by Jean Johnson