Page 18 of Commander’s Mate

“Name?” the woman asked.

“Harper Avery.”

“World of origin?”

“Earth.” I hesitated. “Planet Earth. Not Dirt.”

The woman blinked, then smiled faintly. “Earth. Species?”

“Human. Homo sapiens, I guess.”

“Translator functioning?”

“I think so. It hurts a little.”

The woman’s expression tightened. “Cheap slave chip. We will scan it when medical has capacity. Any immediate injury?”

“Drugged. Headache. Cold. Scared out of my mind.”

“That last one is expected,” the woman said, not unkindly. “You are safe aboard Dreadnought One.”

Safe.

I wanted to believe her.

Then another alarm ripped through the hangar.

The amber lights turned red.

The ship shuddered.

Every rescued woman in the hangar froze.

The Farseek crew did not.

Soldiers moved. Orders snapped. The intake woman caught me by the shoulders before I stumbled.

“Do not panic,” she said.

I stared at her. “I’m trying not to.”

From somewhere above, weapons fired. The sound was distant but unmistakable, a deep pulse that vibrated in my bones.

The woman released me and turned to the next rescued captive. “Continue intake.”

Continue intake.

As if the ship was not under attack. As if this happened every day.

Maybe for them it did.

I pulled the blanket tighter and searched the hangar despite myself.

I did not see Zared.

That should not matter.

It did.