She studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she set the cargo hook down on a nearby crate.
“Fine. What do we do now?”
“Now we leave.” Sarven moved towards the cockpit, his limp barely noticeable—a permanent reminder of that plasma burn. “Strap in back there. It’s going to be a rough ride.”
The shuttle lifted off with a shudder that rattled his teeth.
He stood near the cockpit entrance, watching through the viewscreen as the secret facility shrank beneath them. Smoke still billowed from the lower levels, a grey-black plume against the amber sky. Emergency vehicles clustered around the main entrance, their lights flashing. From up here, it looked almost peaceful.
That place held three innocent women and a child prisoner, he reminded himself. There’s nothing peaceful about it.
“Patrol craft on approach.”
Sarven’s voice was tense but controlled. His hands moved rapidly across the controls, adjusting their course, their speed, their trajectory.
“They’re hailing us.”
“Answer it.” he moved to stand behind the pilot’s chair. “Standard supply run, returning to the central depot. If they ask why we left early?—”
“Emergency evacuation protocols. Already thought of it.” Sarven activated the comm. “Patrol leader, this is supply shuttle Seven-Seven-Three. Responding to your hail.”
A burst of static, then a gruff voice: “Seven-Seven-Three, you’re not on the departure schedule. Explain.”
“Fire emergency at the research facility, patrol leader. All non-essential craft were ordered to evacuate. I’ve got a hold full of sensitive equipment that can’t be exposed to chemical contamination.”
A pause. Becsul held his breath.
“…Confirmed, Seven-Seven-Three. Proceed to Central Depot Gamma for inspection and manifest verification.”
“Understood, patrol leader. Seven-Seven-Three out.”
Sarven killed the comm and exhaled heavily. “That was too close.”
“Can we avoid Depot Gamma?”
“Already plotting an alternate route.” Sarven’s fingers danced over the navigation controls. “There’s a secondary landing zone near the eastern mountains—used for emergency evacuations during the Red Death quarantines. It’s been abandoned for years, but the infrastructure should still be functional.”
“And from there?”
“From there, we need to get them off the planet.” Sarven glanced back at him, his expression serious. “You said you had contacts in the merchant fleet?”
“One contact. A freighter captain who owes me a significant favor.”
“Significant enough to transport five humans and a Cire deserter off-world without asking questions?”
He thought about the warehouse fire on Kolvan Station. The bodies they’d hidden. The evidence they’d destroyed. Captain Veran’s voice, rough with gratitude.I owe you my life, Becsul. My ship. My crew. Anything you need, anytime, anywhere. Just say the word.
“Yes,” he said. “Significant enough.”
In the cargo bay, Melissa sat with her back against the hull, Robbie sleeping peacefully in her arms.
The other women had arranged themselves nearby—Sarah and Katie on one side, Wei-Lin on the other. They weren’t speaking, not yet, still processing the reality of what was happening. Escape. Freedom. Concepts that had probably seemed impossible an hour ago.
He crouched in front of Melissa, his tail automatically seeking her warmth, curling around her waist.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.” She smiled faintly. “I keep saying that, don’t I?”
