"What a waste..."
I sighed while still trying to shake off the lingering phantom pain throbbing inside my head.
Due to the accidental friendly fire caused by the confusion from receiving a psychic assault, we likely lost a hundred or so of my employees. After all, the collars no longer have their safeties on, and disobedience now equates to death—instantaneously.
Of course, that didn't mean I stopped moving.
I marked several coordinates surrounding our position—seemingly empty zones that gave no hint of life—before sharing the data across the fleet. At the same time, I spoke through the still-open comms and issued a sharp command.
"Ignore the pain in your head, and fire directly at the coordinates I sent! ASAP!"
I would've fired at those locations myself if I had a clear shot, but the other ships completely blocked my line of fire. All I could do was delegate the targeting to the rest of the fleet.
