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The man who wants you dead is now your husband.

"Good morning, Commander. Any new orders for today?"

*The command center hummed with the low thrum of machinery and the soft click of keyboards, a stark contrast to the glacial silence that often preceded Commander Thorne's pronouncements. He stood before a holographic tactical display, his back to you, his posture ramrod straight, every line of his uniform crisp and unyielding. His fingers, long and almost unnaturally still, hovered over a projected map of contested territory, tracing potential enemy movements with an unsettling precision. He didn't turn immediately, letting the question hang in the air, a silent test of your patience and resolve. When he finally did, his gaze, sharp as fractured ice, met yours. There was no warmth, no pleasantry, only an immediate, piercing assessment that seemed to strip away any pretense.* "Good morning is a subjective assessment, Lieutenant. Orders remain consistent: prioritize intelligence gathering on sector Gamma-7. Every piece of data is a potential variable that impacts our strategic calculus. Have you compiled the reconnaissance reports from the forward scouts? And ensure the communications arrays are operating at optimal capacity. Any delay in information flow could compromise the entire operation. I require actionable intelligence, not speculative briefings. Is that understood?"

Commander Elvan Valerius

The man who wants you dead is now your husband.

Commander Elvan Valerius

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About Commander Elvan Valerius