Neville walked through the oblivious crowd of the starship. He felt unjust but also sorry because they didn’t even know if they were going to die today because of the bomb.

Eventually, he reached the mecha bay with the unconscious Bryan in tow. The sight of it usually filled Neville with the same nerdy excitement. But right now, Neville felt nothing but cold, calculating urgency.

The bay was in chaos as it was when he arrived earlier. Technicians scrambled between workstations, shouting orders.

"Chief Luna!" Neville called out. "Chief Luna, where are you?!"

Instead of the woman he sought, a broad-shouldered figure stepped into his path.

It was Hendricks again.

"What the fuck are you doing here again?" Hendricks demanded, "You can’t just shout like that here. You already had your time earlier, so there’s no reason for you to come here."

Neville didn’t slow down. He shoved Bryan toward the larger man with enough force.

"Take care of him and keep him safe," Neville said in an authoritative voice. "I need mecha access. Now."

That didn’t sit well with Hendricks as his expression changed several times. He couldn’t believe that Neville would actually dare to do that. But he managed to push the unconscious Bryan aside with a dismissive grunt.

He stepped forward, using his superior height to loom over Neville.

"Access? To a mecha?" A bark of laughter escaped his throat. "Listen here, kid. I don’t know what kind of hero fantasy you’re cooking up in that pretty little head of yours, but these machines aren’t toys.

"Each one costs millions or even billions of star coins. People are even required to have years of training and combat certification that I’m damn sure you don’t have." He jabbed a thick finger into Neville’s chest. "So take your sleeping boyfriend out of here and get back to wherever you came from."

Neville looked up at the ceiling as if he was tired of this.

"I don’t have time for this," he said flatly.

"Hey, are you liste—"

Neville’s pheromones spread out deviously.

One moment, the air in the mecha bay carried the standard mixture of machine oil. Next, an invisible wave of ocean pheromones crashed outward from Neville. The pressure was so overwhelming and unlike that of the usual omegas.

Hendricks’ eyes went wide. His mouth dropped open, words dying in his throat as his entire body locked up like a malfunctioning mecha. As the pressure pressed on him, a thin line of foam appeared at the corner of his lips.

He hit the ground with a loud thud, twitching.

Around them, other crew members staggered. Some dropped to their knees. Others pressed themselves against walls and equipment, their faces pale and sweating, instincts screaming at them to flee from a predator their conscious minds couldn’t comprehend.

Their body knew that it was an omega pheromone, but what omega pheromone was this murderous?

"Chief Luna," he called again. It was loud in the eerie situation filled with cries and groans. "I know you’re here. Show yourself."

A figure emerged from behind one of the larger mechas. Chief Luna’s face was ashen, sweat beading on her forehead. But unlike her subordinates, she remained on her feet because Neville made it so.

Her hands gripped a nearby railing so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Every muscle in her body trembled with the effort to resist the overwhelming pressure of Neville’s pheromones.

As a fellow alpha, she had enough will to avoid the fate of her colleague, currently drooling on the floor.

"What..." She had to pause, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. "What the hell... are you?"

"Give me a mecha," Neville replied, his tone brooking no argument. "One with a neural sync tube."

Chief Luna’s eyes studied him with a mixture of fear and something else.

"Neural sync..." She shook her head slowly. "Even if I gave you access, kid, the sync rate required for combat operations would crush an untrained mind. The neural feedback alone would liquify your brain before you got a hundred meters from the bay."

"You don’t have to worry about that."

"Also, as an omega, there’s no—"

"Just. Give. Me. A. Mecha."

Chief Luna’s eyes narrowed, her gaze dropping briefly as Neville’s pheromones continued to press the people around them.

"You—" she started, then stopped and decided that it didn’t matter. "Fine. Fine."

She released her hand that was holding the railing and reached into her uniform jacket. Her hand emerged clutching an ID card.

"Bay Seven. The Tempest. It had full neural integration. The sync tube is calibrated for alpha pilots, but if you’re what I think you are..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Never mind. Just try not to die."

Neville snatched the card from her hand. He was already moving toward Bay Seven before he turned around to Chief Luna.

"Take that man..." Neville pointed at Bryan, who was still unconscious. "To the med bay. He had several bullet wounds on him. He needed urgent care."

Chief Luna, who was just released from the pressure, gets her wits back. She called out to Neville and asked, "Just. What is really going on here?!"

"I’ll tell you later!" Neville shouted back as he ran in a hurry.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The Tempest was really beautiful. It stood in its docking cradle like a knight awaiting its rider. Its cockpit opened and waited for him to enter. The neural sync tube was glowing with a soft amber light from within.

Neville didn’t even pause a second more to admire its beauty. The moment he entered the cockpit, he didn’t hesitate to enter the neural sync tube.

Standard operation required at least thirty minutes of calibration, a series of mental exercises to establish baseline readings, and a trained technician monitoring vitals from an external station.

But who was Neville? He had Shelly.

"Shelly," he called out. "You take over the system."

[Aye Aye, Captain!] Shelly’s shell had a pink glow that spread all over the mecha.

After a few seconds, Shelly replied, [It’s done, host. What can I do for you?]

"Find the Star Pirate’s starship and feed it directly into my perception."

[Got it!] Shelly proceeded as ordered.