“Captain Trevan,” she said, during a lull in the conversation. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Dr. Desai.”
The title startled her. No one had called her that since before the abduction. “I’m not… I mean, I don’t know if that title even applies out here.”
“You earned a doctorate in reproductive medicine, did you not? The accomplishment does not disappear simply because you crossed star systems.” Trevan’s scarred face creased into something that might have been a smile. “What did you wish to ask?”
“What’s the process like? For someone like me to get… certified? Recognized? Whatever the term is for being able to practice medicine in galactic space.”
“Ah.” He considered the question while chewing thoughtfully. “It varies by species and by sector. But generally, there are standardized examinations administered by the Medical Guild. Your existing knowledge would need to be validated against their standards, and you would need to complete additional training in xenobiology and cross-species treatment protocols.”
“How long does that take?”
“Depends on the individual. I have known humans who completed the process in two years. Others who took five.”
“Two years.” She processed that. It was longer than she’d hoped, but shorter than she’d feared. “And the cost?”
“Significant, but not insurmountable. There are scholarships for refugees—you would likely qualify, given your circumstances. And some facilities offer apprenticeships that combine work and study.”
“Apprenticeships.” Her mind immediately began spinning with possibilities. “Where would I find those?”
“The Patrol could direct you. They maintain records of licensed facilities throughout the sector.” Trevan’s orange cybernetic eye flickered towards Becsul. “Your mate’s testimony about the Cire reproductive crisis may also open doors. There will be great interest in anyone with relevant expertise.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You have been somewhat preoccupied.” His tone was gentle, understanding. “But consider: you have firsthand knowledge of a crisis affecting an entire species. Knowledge the Medical Guild will want to hear. That has value, Dr. Desai. Significant value.”
She looked at Becsul, who was listening to the conversation while pretending to focus on Katie’s latest silly face. “What do you think?”
“I think Captain Trevan is correct.” His voice was measured, but she could hear the undercurrent of hope. “The situation on Ciresia is dire. Any expert who might offer solutions would be… welcomed.”
“Even a human expert?”
“Perhaps especially a human expert.” His tail found her ankle under the table, a reassuring touch. “The mate bond theory is controversial, but if it proves true—if human-Cire compatibility is real—then human reproductive specialists will be invaluable.”
“No pressure,” Sarah muttered, but she was smiling.
Wei-Lin spoke up for the first time. “The Patrol will want statements from all of us. About everything. The facility, the experiments, Naran’s operation.” Her dark eyes were sharp. “That information is valuable too. We should be strategic about how we share it.”
“Strategic?” Melissa frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we shouldn’t give everything away for free.” Wei-Lin set down her fork, her expression hardening into something that reminded Melissa she’d been a soldier. “We have leverage. Information the Patrol wants. We should use that leverage to secure our own positions before we hand it over.”
“That seems…” Melissa hesitated. “Mercenary.”
“Surviving is mercenary. You think they’re going to help us out of the goodness of their hearts? They’re law enforcement. They want convictions. Closed cases. Public victories.” Wei-Lin shook her head. “They’ll help us as long as we’re useful to them. The moment we’re not, we become paperwork.”
“Wei-Lin’s perspective has merit,” Becsul said carefully. “But the Patrol are not all self-serving. Many genuinely seek justice.”
“Many. Not all.” Wei-Lin shrugged. “I’m just saying we should protect ourselves. Make sure we get what we need before we give them what they need.”
The table fell silent, the earlier warmth cooling slightly. Katie looked between the adults with a confused expression, and Sarah quickly distracted her with another bite of the not-quite-chicken.
“I don’t want to be adversarial,” Melissa said finally. “But I don’t want to be naive either. Maybe there’s a middle ground. We cooperate, but we also advocate for ourselves.”
“That seems reasonable,” Trevan offered. “The Patrol respects those who understand their own worth. Groveling earns nothing but contempt.”
“I don’t grovel.” Wei-Lin’s smile was sharp. “Never have.”
