Jr.'s head felt funny, the skin oddly tight on his skull.
He'd been too impulsive, making the sloppy assumption that his father would be waiting at the Merkabah's core. He should have thought harder about how Dmitri Yuriev would act with the Durandal nearby, and the Zohar Emulators stored within.
Good God, Jr.'d been raised by Yuriev and he'd still read the man wrong.
But Yuriev wasn't just Yuriev anymore—he was Gaignun, too.
And Gaignun had the Durandal's access codes.
Yuriev never cared who he hurt.
A monster was headed for Jr.'s ship, unleashed by Jr.'s own lamentable rashness.