She didn’t say it out loud, but she hoped the meaning was clear to Tim. If they got involved in the current…quarrel…was there any benefit to them?
They didn’t have to help him get killed or save him from being killed. She still felt a distinct qualm. She knew this was dancing on the head of a moral pin. But they also weren’t positioned to even help themselves at the moment.
“We couldn’t afford to tell him we’re lost,” Tim said, his tone matter-of-fact.
It was interesting that Tim was so good at seeing and understanding the motives of bad people, and so lost where it came to, well, women. Though, probably not a surprise. He’d spent his formative years with bad people.
She wasn’t sure why her senses all of a sudden went on the alert—even before she received a warning signal from Trac. And before the low, menacing growl from behind them.
She put a hand on Tim’s arm, turning with him to face…
It was large. It was canine, judging by the teeth currently bared at them. The teeth were huge and looked sharp, though maybe it was the dripping saliva making them glisten and look sharp.
More shapes emerged out of the shadows. At least six of the canines.
“Of course there’d be junkyard dogs,” Lt. Dish said over the comms.
Tim pulled her next to him, so that their backs were against a large ship. She wasn’t sure it helped their situation that much when a large string of saliva dropped at their feet from above.
She risked a look up. Why yes, there was one of the canines up there, too. She was pretty sure she counted six—that they could see.
At least, she thought somewhat distantly, she probably wouldn’t have to make a decision about whether to save that doughy alien. They’d be fortunate to save themselves.
“If this situation weren’t so crappy,” Tim heard Lt. Dish say over the comm, “it would almost be hilarious, it is such a cliché.”
Tim ignored her interjection. It wasn’t relevant that he could tell. His sensors had found at least eight of the canine creatures, with other stealthy movement that might indicate more of them closing on their position.
It would have been ridiculously easy to deal with them if he weren’t half human. And if Riina weren’t here? He might have found it, not easy, but manageable.
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said, shifting so that she was mostly behind him.
“Probably not,” she agreed.
She didn’t sound upset. He didn’t dare look to see if she was upset.
The canines were pacing slowly closer, their tails snapping from side to side. He had the sense they were trying to discover how well armed they were.
His initial thought—to boost Riina up on the ship at their backs—had, of necessity, been abandoned. These predators had done a good job of cutting off all retreat.
He wondered how sentient they were or if they were acting on instinct.
He shifted again, so that Riina was fully behind him. He released the longer weapon strapped to his back. He could operate both, but he was looking for the best, first target.
If these were canines, if they had canine instincts, then there might be an alpha, a leader. He wanted to target that one.
His sensors noted and cataloged the canines in each position, comparing size and other factors.
“I think that one’s in charge,” Riina said. “The one in the center. Typical pack behavior,” she added.
His own calculations had determined the same thing, but he had to smile that she’d done it using her eyes and from behind him.
And then the smile faded as he braced, noting that the leader was bunching for an attack. Tim aimed, but before he could trigger his weapon, there was a roar of motion overhead, like a burst of wind passing overhead.
He didn’t take his eyes off the pack. He didn’t dare, but his other sensors noted—with considerable surprise—that it wasn’t the shuttle, but the ship that the flyer pilot had entered.
Was he trying to help them? Or just passing by?
The canine pack retreated some, as if they were also uncertain.
