The air in the room was suddenly so heavy with tension you could physically feel it.
Under its weight, the portly captain swallowed hard and shrank back into his chair.
I stared at the General, briefly unable to believe what I had just heard.
Did he just reject an order from his superior?
No, fuck that. Did he reject an order from me?
"General," I said, forcing a calm and reasonable tone because I was, after all, a calm and reasonable man. "I am the Heir Apparent now. By military decree, my word on this ship is law."
"Your word is law during peace, or during an authorized engagement," Marcus replied while stepping away from the map table and closing the distance between us with slow strides. Before long, he was towering over me by at least a few inches. "Right now, we are entering a warzone shrouded by supernatural mist and an EMP field. If something happens to us while we are outside formation, it'll be no less than committing suicide."
