They crossed the landing pad at a controlled pace—fast enough to cover ground, slow enough not to draw attention. The maintenance workers glanced up as they passed but didn’t comment. Why would they? He was a captain, in uniform, walking with purpose. Nothing suspicious about that.
The shuttle’s loading ramp was down, its cargo bay open and dark. He guided Melissa up the ramp and into the shadowy interior, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dimness.
“Becsul?”
A voice from the back of the cargo bay—female, human, trembling with fear and hope. He recognized it immediately.
“Sarah.” He led Melissa towards the sound. “We’re here. Everyone all right?”
Two figures emerged from behind a stack of supply crates. The first was a woman with pale skin and hair the color of driedgrass, her blue eyes red-rimmed from crying. The second was smaller and younger—a girl of perhaps ten years, clinging to her mother’s hand with white-knuckled intensity.
“This is my daughter Katie.” Sarah pulled her daughter closer. “They took her too. To make sure I cooperated.”
He couldn’t stop himself from flinching. He’d known about the child, of course, and he’d suspected that Naran was holding her as leverage, using a mother’s love as a weapon. But hearing it spoken aloud and seeing the fear in the girl’s eyes…
What have we become,he thought bitterly.What have we allowed ourselves to become?
“Where’s the other one?” Melissa asked. “You said there were two other women.”
“Here.”
Another voice from deeper in the cargo bay. A small female with dark, close-cropped hair and an expression of wary determination. Wei-Lin.
“Three women and a child.” Wei-Lin’s voice was flat, controlled. “One Cire captain. A cargo shuttle with no weapons.” Her gaze swept over him, assessing. “Please tell me you have more of a plan than ‘fly away and hope for the best.’“
“I have a plan.”
“Does it involve more people who want to help us, or is this it?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Melissa grabbed his arm and yanked him sideways.
“Someone’s coming!”
He spun, reaching for his weapon, and saw a figure ascending the loading ramp. Male, Cire, dressed in pilot’s coveralls?—
Melissa moved faster than he would have believed possible. One moment she was beside him, Robbie tucked securely against her chest. The next, she’d snatched a cargo hook from a nearby crate and was swinging it towards the pilot’s skull with lethal intent.
“Wait!” He caught her wrist inches before impact. “Melissa, stop! He’s with us!”
The pilot stumbled backwards, eyes wide, hands raised. “Ancestors’ mercy! Is this how humans say hello?”
“Sarven.” He released Melissa’s wrist and stepped between them. “Melissa, this is Sarven. He’s our pilot. The one I told you about.”
She didn’t lower the cargo hook. “You didn’t mention he’d be sneaking up on us.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” Sarven straightened his coveralls with offended dignity. “I was returning to my own ship. How was I supposed to know you’d brought a tiny human warrior with murder in her eyes?”
“She’s protective.”
“I noticed.”
She finally lowered the hook, though she didn’t put it down entirely. “You’re the friend? The one who’s committing treason?”
“I prefer ‘righteous rebellion against tyrannical authority.’“ Sarven gave her a broad grin. “But yes. I’m the friend.”
“Why?”
The smile faded. “Because Becsul saved my life during the Battle of Karren’s Ridge. Because he carried me twelve kilometers through enemy territory with a plasma burn through my leg. Because when he asked for my help, he didn’t have to explain why—I already knew.” Sarven’s gaze moved to the women huddled in the cargo bay, to the child still clinging to her mother. “Some things are simply wrong. This is one of them.”
