Vanguard

Chapter 3

“We’re going to be kidnapped?” Lochan said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why? Because of all the technology available these days? I told you, there’s a shortage of people in Apulu Star System to handle the sort of hard, backbreaking jobs that Apulu needs done and their own people don’t want to do.”

“Forced labor,” Lochan said. “Why aren’t they using machines for those jobs?”

“Because those machines may be commonplace in the Old Colonies, but they are scarce and expensive out here, and keeping them running is expensive. Importing stuff like that also costs a lot of money, but you guys have paid your own way out here.” The doctor bared his teeth in a humorless smile. “People are adaptable and versatile, and relatively cheap, and if one breaks they are very easy to dispose of. You guys will disappear, no one will be able to track where that freighter actually came from, the records on this station will be clean, and we’ll get a payoff from Apulu along channels that nobody can trace.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Not my problem. But I won’t let you go into that without being warned. If you can come up with an answer, more power to you. Here’s another warning. Don’t try anything while you’re still on this station. They’re prepared for that. I don’t want to have to put in all the work that might be required to fix you guys up after the riot suppression is finished.”

Lochan eyed the hard young man. “What if I threaten to tell them that you warned me unless you help us?”

Another false smile came and went. “I’ll say you’re lying. And before you say they’ll scan me to see if I’m lying, I’m the one who set up the parameters on the scans. I’ve already rigged them so they’ll always say I’m being truthful, and no one else on this station has the skills to know differently.” The doctor held up an injector. “I’m supposed to tell you that you’ve got a developing immune ailment that this shot will cure. It’s actually a compliance drug. Knocks down your ability to think independently and resist instructions. You’ve become the leader of your group, and the people running this station don’t want you leading. Lower doses of the same stuff will be fed the other refugees with you in your meals starting today. Just enough to keep them a little complacent until all of you are locked down on that freighter. After you leave this office, act a little confused, a little hesitant, like someone with a few too many drinks under their belt trying to play chess.”

“Thanks,” Lochan said.

The doctor nodded once, then tapped his pad again. “That shot should take care of it,” he announced for the benefit of the surveillance systems, putting down the injector as if he had just used it.

“I feel a little dizzy,” Lochan complained, playing along.

“That’s normal. Don’t worry about it.”

“Um… okay,” Lochan said.

He left the infirmary, noting just down the hall a couple of other crew members from the way station, looking very much like they were pretending not to be watching him. Lochan paused, looking up and down the corridor as if indecisive, started down the wrong way, then hesitated before turning and walking slowly past his audience.

A brief, low laugh sounded after he had passed. Lochan pretended not to have heard.

He spent the short walk back to the refugees’ living area trying to figure out how to let Mele Darcy know without anyone else hearing. He wasn’t sure how to get out of the mess they were in, but he was positive that telling Mele was the right first step.

“Still not interested,” she told him when he suggested getting together in his bunk.

“But I really need you,” Lochan said in a low voice. He lightly tapped the table in front of him. Three times fast, three times with a pause between them, then three times fast.

Mele tilted her head slightly, regarding him, only her eyes revealing that she had recognized the signal. “Oh, why the hell not? Your bunk? Tonight?”

A communal hall wasn’t the most private place, so anyone wanting to engage in personal activities used blankets to offer a pretense of solitude. Mele lay on top of him, a couple of blankets covering both of them. Her murmur in his ear was soft but also full of warning. “This better be a real emergency.”

“It is.” Lochan kept his own voice as low as possible as he whispered what the doctor had warned him of.

When he had finished, Mele stayed quiet for a few minutes as she thought. “That doctor is right,” she finally murmured. “I’ve been checking things out. They can flood this room with gas, and they’ve got a good supply of antiriot gear. We wouldn’t stand a chance if we tried something here.”

“What about on the freighter? Marines do that stuff, right?”

Her breath gusted his ear in a very light laugh. “I’m one Marine. No gear. And they’ll be ready to lock us down on the ship. No. We have to take over the shuttle that the freighter sends for us.”

“Then what?” Lochan asked. “There’s no place else to go in this star system, and a shuttle can’t jump between stars.”

“We wait for another ship. I looked at the schedules before I booked this trip. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of days after we take the shuttle before another ship shows up.”

She made it sound easy, but Lochan thought about everyone cramped onto a shuttle not designed for long-term life support and without much in the way of food and water. He didn’t have any better ideas, though. “All right. What do we do?”

“They’re watching you. You act compliant like they expect. Keep everyone else calm. I know a couple of people who can help us, and as long as the way station crew keep their attention focused on you, I should be able to set things up. I’ve been careful not to act too smart, so they think I’m just a dumb Marine. They won’t watch me too closely as long as nothing tips them off.”

“How are we going to go over the plan?” Lochan objected. “How are we going to decide things?”

“We can’t hold planning meetings and debate options,” Mele said. “You’ve given me a job to do. Can you trust me to do it?”

That was hard. That was really hard. His fate depended on whatever Mele did, and he had never been happy with surrendering control. Not in his business dealings, not in his political campaigns…

Not in his marriage.

And look how well that had all turned out.

Maybe it was time to stop micromanaging the rest of the world and just focus on doing his part of things. Besides, Mele was right. The more they talked about stuff, the greater the chance the way station crew would suspect something and maybe even learn something.

“All right,” Lochan finally said. “You trusted me from the start. I’ll trust you. I’ll do everything I can to make them think we’re all being nice, happy, dumb sheep so they won’t be prepared for any trouble, and they’ll tell whoever is on that shuttle that there’s nothing to worry about.”

“And I’ll set things up to take the shuttle.”

As much as Lochan had to admit that his knowledge of how to do things like hijack a shuttle was limited to what he had seen on action vids (and he had a strong suspicion that what action vids portrayed had very little to do with the reality of such things) it was still hard to accept. “What if you run into problems?”

“I’ll let you know,” Mele said. “If everything goes fine, we’ll just talk openly like we have all along, but you’ll act compliant. Wow. It’s a good thing I don’t have to try acting compliant. I’m not very good at that.”

“I’m not surprised to hear that,” Lochan said.

“When I make my move on the shuttle, you back me, do whatever you need to do to help me, and keep the other passengers from freaking out.”

“Okay.” A thought came to him. “Why are you sure I’ll be able to back you up when you need it? That I’ll be able to improvise whatever needs to be done?”

“Because you’re pretty sharp,” Mele said. “If I do need to tell you anything, I’ll arrange another meeting like this. Otherwise, I’m off to do some thinking.”

“You’re leaving?” Lochan asked, not being very successful at hiding his disappointment.

She breathed a soft laugh in his ear. “Yeah. Sorry. You’ll get over it.”

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll feel real bad about that,” she said with another laugh.

Mele flipped the blankets off of them and slid away from him, leaving Lochan staring up into the darkness, frustrated and worried.

Three days later, one of the way station workers casually informed the refugees from the Brian Smith that a freighter from Varaha named the Harcourt F. Modder had arrived at Vestri and would be sending a shuttle to pick them up in a few more days.

Carmen stood in one of the passenger lounges on the Mononoke, gazing at an image of Brahma’s primary world that floated in the center of the room. The image was incredibly detailed and updated constantly by observations of the planet. Her short-term roommate had left, to be replaced by someone else heading out from Brahma.

She felt… anger as she looked at the planet. The only craters visible were ancient, the result of old, natural impacts. The customs officials had been almost comically relaxed and sloppy. The only armed guard that Carmen had seen was on a vid feed from the loading dock for the shuttle, and the guard hadn’t actually seemed the least bit worried about anything. Brahma was fat and happy and comfortable. It was one of the oldest of the Old Colonies, and had always been under the protection of Old Earth. The riches of the planet and the entire star system had barely been touched as yet by the growing population.

Carmen imagined for a moment dumping half the population of Mars here, suddenly flooding this island of contentment with the hungry and desperate and ruthless. Then she felt ashamed for wanting to inflict on anyone else what too many already endured. Dragging down Brahma wouldn’t pull up anywhere else.

But if only they weren’t so damned smug about everything. And so selfish in their smugness, thinking that because they faced no critical problems, no one else possibly could. Old Earth’s struggles and sacrifices were history, and the futures of others were not Brahma’s concern.

Whatever she tried to do in the down and out, it would have to depend on the resources available there, not on assistance from the Old Colonies.

Most of the refugees walking through Vestri’s way station toward the dock displayed a mixture of weariness after their enforced stay in the Spartan accommodations combined with hope of eventually getting where they were going. Lochan walked near the head of the group, frowning slightly as he had since his visit with the doctor, as if unable to mentally focus.

He noticed Mele with a group near the middle. Mele appeared to be completely carefree and wasn’t wearing her betraying earring, but a couple of those near her seemed visibly more tense than the other passengers. Hopefully, the way station workers would set that down to the final accounting payments that had just been wrung out of the visitors. Lochan, still playing the role of someone who couldn’t help but comply, had nodded in dull acceptance of every charge presented to him personally. If universal wallets actually carried physical currency, his wallet would have been much lighter by now.

Any lingering doubt that Lochan had about the doctor’s warning vanished as he saw the three crew members from the freighter who were waiting to herd everyone on the shuttle. Two men and a woman, all with the powerful builds, sharp eyes, and lazy smiles of people whose job was to keep other people in line. All three wore long jackets that mostly concealed the shockers holstered at their waists, revealing only slight bulges on one side that wouldn’t have aroused concerns in anyone not already on the alert.

As he boarded the shuttle, Lochan heard Mele giggle behind him like a harmless young soul without a single worry.

The hatch was closing behind the last refugee when Mele tripped, stumbling toward two of the guards, who tensed then relaxed as she caught her balance and smiled sheepishly at them. “Get strapped in,” the woman ordered as if speaking to a child, pointing to the rows of bare seats.

Mele half turned toward the seats, then erupted into sudden motion, her arms and hands blurs as they struck. The male guard nearest her slammed against the side of the shuttle, already unconscious, then the woman guard fell to her knees, both hands going to her throat as Mele followed up with a blow that knocked her out as well.

The third guard had barely begun to shout and reach for his shocker when a short refugee named Lukas sucker punched him, following up with a series of blows that laid that guard down as well.

Up front, a refugee named Cassie had already slapped a device onto the bulkhead next to the hatch leading onto the flight deck, and another next to the camera that allowed the pilots to monitor the passenger deck.

“Everybody stay quiet!” Lochan warned as the rest of the refugees stared in disbelief. “These guys were going to kidnap us. We’ve got everything under control, and we’re going to get everyone out of this.” He bent down next to one of the fallen guards, finding, as he expected, that the guard had rapid-apply wrist ties in his pockets. “You and you, help me bind these guys. Mele?”

She was by the hatch, accompanied by Lukas, both holding shockers taken from the guards. “Cassie rigged something to jam the camera in here and also a skeleton key to override the lock on this hatch,” Mele explained. “As soon as it works we’ll take the flight deck and lift out of here. Lochan, take the other shocker and get by the main hatch in case the way station workers figure out what’s going on and try to force it.”

Lochan took the shocker, holding the weapon cautiously. Could he use it against another person? He took another look at the heavies who had been their guards and gripped the weapon more firmly, taking up a position by the hatch.

The electronic skeleton key chirped softly as it broke the lock code, and the hatch leading forward swung open. Mele went through in a rush. Lochan heard the pop of a shocker going off.

The warning light at the main hatch blinked, indicating someone was trying to open it from the outside.

The shuttle lurched sideways, bobbed upward, then began climbing fast, the refugees falling and grasping at any available handhold.

“We’re all right!” Lochan called. “We’re going to be okay. Mele’s a Marine. You all know that. She’s got this.”

“What the hell’s going on?” one of the refugees demanded. “Why would they want to kidnap us?”

“Forced labor on Apulu,” Lochan told him and the others. “Just stay calm, and we’ll get through this. It’s under control.”

He had wondered whether he could enforce his will on the group this way, but either his voice, his outer confidence, or the mild compliance drugs that had been in their food worked. The others got into seats, strapping down, as Lochan made his way forward against the force of the shuttle still accelerating.

One of the pilots, knocked out by the shocker, was sprawled near the hatch. The other, sweat running down her face, was at the controls. Mele was in the seat next to the pilot, her shocker almost touching the pilot’s temple. Lochan had a vague memory that a shocker going off that close to someone’s brain could produce a fatal result, which explained the nervousness of the pilot.

Lukas nodded at Lochan, smiling. “No worries.”

“Thanks. You took out that guy pretty quick.”

Lukas’s smile broadened. “When you’re a small guy, you learn how to take down big guys.”

“Where do you want us to go, boss?” Mele asked Lochan, keeping her eyes on the pilot.

He leaned forward enough to view the display before the pilot. The freighter from Apulu was easy enough to spot, only a light minute away. So were the symbols marking the jump points in Vestri. “Head for the jump point the Brian Smith arrived at,” Lochan said, pointing. “Any other ships coming in should show up there.”

“How much endurance do you think this thing has?” the pilot snarled, her face tense with fear. “With all those people aboard? Life support won’t last more than a few hours.”

“We can do better than that,” Mele said. “Cassie is checking it over now.”

“Cassie has some unexpected talents,” Lochan remarked.

“She’s an engineer,” Mele said. “The sort of engineer who has trouble just following instructions and refuses to overspecialize.”

“There are advantages to being part of a group of misfits,” Lochan said. “Looks like you did everything that we needed.”

Mele glanced at him for just a moment before returning her gaze to the pilot. “You thinking you didn’t do much? You identified a big problem, figured out who to task with dealing with it, then let her do the job without trying to interfere or micromanage. You kept an eye on the big picture, and trusted me to do it right or let you know if there was a problem. And when everything went down, you backed me up. That’s a pretty good boss from my point of view.”

Despite the tightness riding his guts, Lochan couldn’t help smiling at her. “You’re saying I did something right?”

“Yeah. Sorry to ruin your perfect record of failure.”

“We’re not out of Vestri yet.”

“I don’t know what anybody told you,” the pilot interrupted. “We’re just regular merchants. We were just going to take you to… to… Vahala.”

“Varaha?” Lochan said.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve already searched your copilot. His ID is from Apulu.”

“Where’s your ID from?” Mele asked, tapping the pilot’s forehead with the shocker. “Your copilot was carrying a military-grade pistol before I took it away. Lethal weaponry. What’s that doing on a regular merchant?”

“If you want to get out of this without a prison sentence,” Lochan said, “you’ll cooperate with getting us another ride out of this star system.”

“None of this was my idea,” the pilot insisted.

“Then you’ll be happy to help us, won’t you?”

“They won’t just let you walk away with their shuttle,” the pilot said. “The ship is going to come after us.”

“Do they have any weapons?” Mele asked.

“Yeah… a… pulse particle beam.”

Lochan saw that the pilot had hesitated for just a moment before replying. “You know,” he remarked, “I have some experience as a politician, so I know it takes a little longer to think up a lie than it does to give an honest answer. If that freighter wants to chase us, fine. He’s got a lot more mass than we do, and not all that much thrust. He’ll take a long time to catch us, and once he’s close we can outmaneuver him.”

“This shuttle is expensive!” the pilot said. “They won’t let it go! They’ll wait until life support on this bird is failing and you guys have to give up or die.”

“We’ll find another ride before then,” Lochan said with a confidence he didn’t really feel.

A day and a half later, Lochan Nakamura’s ability to fake such assurance was being tested as never before.

“Toxic levels in the air are close to critical,” Mele Darcy told him in a low voice.

Lochan glanced back at the other refugees, slumped in their seats, all of them showing the effects of thirty-six hours with little water, no food, rising temperatures inside the living compartment, and steadily deteriorating air quality. “How long do we have?”

Cassie shrugged, looking like someone who had spent the last day digging ditches in the hot sun. “I’ve tweaked the gear as best I can. Maybe six more hours before people start passing out. About eight hours maximum before we start losing some of them.”

He looked forward to where Lukas was keeping an eye on the pilot. The freighter had indeed lumbered into pursuit of the shuttle, not able to keep up but staying within several light minutes. The shuttle itself wasn’t built for long-distance acceleration, and the pilot had been complaining with increasing urgency that fuel was getting low. “I figure we’ve got about four hours left before we’d have to give up. If we wait longer than that, some of these people will die before we could dock with the freighter.”

Cassie nodded. “That’s probably right. The question is, do we give up now or wait those four hours?”

“Wait the four hours,” Mele said. “We’re not beaten yet.”

“I don’t see how it makes much difference right now,” Cassie said. “I’d hate to cut it too close. I think we should give it up to make certain we don’t lose anyone.”

Mele looked at Lochan. “Lukas already told me he doesn’t want to have to decide life and death for people. So I guess your vote decides it.”

Mele and Cassie watched him, waiting for a decision. If there had been someone else here to pass the buck to, he would have done it. The idea of someone dying because he made another mistake was unbearable. But so was the possibility that another ship could show up after they had surrendered.

Mele was in favor of waiting, though, and if he had to make a choice of whose judgment to trust, she would be very high on the list. “Let’s keep heading for the jump point,” Lochan said.

“For how long?” Cassie asked, looking resigned.

“You said it. If nobody has shown up in the next four hours, we’ll have to give up.”

“Live to fight another day,” Mele corrected him, grinning as she wiped sweat from her face. “If it comes to that, Apulu is not going to be happy they caught me.”

“Here, too,” Cassie agreed.

Lochan looked away, knowing that someone with political skills like his might be able to work his way up even within the confines of a forced labor system.

If he was willing to abandon Mele and Cassie and Lukas. Maybe sell them out.

He was tired of that kind of thinking.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding toward the others. “If it happens, we’ll make Apulu regret catching us. Is the shuttle’s distress beacon still on?”

“Yes, sir,” Mele said. “It’s on the emergency rescue setting.”

“That won’t help,” Cassie said, “unless somebody shows up in time to respond to it.”

“Truth,” Mele admitted. “But it can’t hurt. And if anyone shows up, they’ll know right away that we need help.”

Cassie shrugged, making it a gesture of surrender to Mele and Lochan, then pulled herself upright before walking with slow, careful steps back to check on some of the others.

Lochan watched her go, feeling morose. “How the hell did I end up here?” he said, not expecting a response from Mele.

But she gave him an arch look. “You tell me.”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Usually.”

Lochan couldn’t help smiling slightly at that. “You know I’m a failure.”

“No,” Mele said, shaking her head at him. “I know you’ve said that you’ve failed at a lot of things. Not the same.”

“All right,” Lochan said. “If that’s how you want to see it. I’ve admitted to trying to micromanage everything. But I haven’t told you, or anyone, why.”

It was Mele’s turn to shrug. “Does the why of it matter?”

“Yeah. It does.” Lochan paused, tasting something bitter that didn’t come from the foul air he was breathing. “Micromanaging lets you pretend to control things without understanding them or caring about them. And that’s what I’ve done. I’ve never cared enough about anything to really try to understand it. Even my marriage. She should have been everything to me. Instead, I let being in charge be everything to me.”

Mele cocked a disapproving eyebrow at him. “You didn’t love her?”

“I thought I did. I swear I thought I did. But what I loved was…”

“The thought of her being in love with you?”

Lochan stared at Mele. “Yeah. I guess so. So I gave up. That’s the truth about me, Mele. I’m out here because I’m looking for something that will make me care enough to try enough to be something other than a serial failure.”

Mele looked around the cabin of the shuttle. “It looks like you cared enough about not becoming slave labor to try.”

“Yeah, but assuming we get out of this—”

“Was it just you?” Mele interrupted. “Or did you care about what happened to the rest of us?”

He took a moment to think, trying to sort out what would sound right and what he really felt. “Yeah. I cared about the rest of you.”

“Say we get out of this. We’re home free. How many other people have already been hauled to some place like Apulu? Can you care about them? What about other places? This can’t be the only star system where someone is taking advantage of the lack of adult supervision.”

“There must be others, yeah.” Lochan shook his head. “But that would be too big for anyone to tackle. One person couldn’t make a difference.”

“Did one person hijack this shuttle?” Mele sounded exasperated with him. “You’ve been going through life solo, even in your marriage. Haven’t you figured out teamwork yet? It’s not that you don’t care, it’s that you don’t want to share the credit for what goes right. Stop pretending it’s anything else. If it’s worth doing, it doesn’t matter who gets credit. What matters is that it gets done.”

Lochan sat silently for nearly a minute, trying to come up with arguments that would refute Mele Darcy’s blunt statement. And failing. Trying to get angry. And failing. But, for once, those failures weren’t a bad thing. “I’m going to think about what you said, Mele. Thanks.”

She grinned. “You’re welcome for the chewing out. And lucky you, we’ve got nothing much else to do for the next few hours but think.”

The next three hours would have felt longer if not for the way the increasingly foul atmosphere inside the shuttle and Lochan’s growing fatigue kept causing him to drift off for short periods of unconsciousness that didn’t feel like sleep and gave him no sense of having rested. Fortunately, that same lassitude was keeping the other refugees from panicking or demanding immediate surrender. As the final hour began ticking down he moved up to the flight deck again, where Mele had relieved Lukas and was once again watching the pilot.

“How much longer are you going to do this?” the pilot asked Lochan in a dull voice.

“A little while longer,” he replied.

“The kids will die first, you know.”

“I’ve heard that, yeah. How long do they live on Apulu? What do you make them do?”

“I’m not a player in that,” the pilot denied. “But the pretty ones… I’ve heard it’s ugly for them.”

“How do you play at all with a system like that?” Mele asked, angry enough to twitch her finger toward the trigger of the shocker aimed at the pilot.

The pilot shook her head. “You go along with something, then something else, then a little more, and before you know it you’re neck-deep and can’t see any way out. I’m not proud of myself. I’m not like those three apes who were going to guard you. They like treating other people like cattle. I just got stuck in it before I knew what was happening.”

“Maybe you can help us even if we give up,” Lochan said. “Give us some aid after we’ve been captured.”

The pilot shook her head, her expression dreary. “I’m no hero. I’m not brave. I’m nothing except a bird driver.”

“But the kids—”

“I try not to think about it. I’m not going to stick my neck out.”

Lochan glanced at Mele, who shook her head to indicate that arguing with the pilot was a waste of time.

Forty-five minutes left before he had to make a decision.

Something new appeared on the display.

The pilot looked up, her face reflecting surprise. “Another merchant ship. Mixed passenger and freight.”

Lochan exhaled slowly, fighting down an urge to laugh out of fear that it would sound half-hysterical. “How long until we can reach them?”

The pilot extended her hand, sweeping it through the virtual display. “On our own? Four hours.”

“Too long,” Mele said.

“You have to give up.”

“What if they come to meet us?” Lochan asked.

“We’re still half a light hour from the jump point,” the pilot complained.

“Give me communications with them,” Lochan said, letting his voice go rough and threatening. “Don’t mess up anything because we’re going to meet up with that other ship in time or you’re going to die along with us.” Did he mean that? He wasn’t sure.

The pilot seemed convinced, though. She hastily tapped controls, then nodded to Lochan.

“This is Lochan Nakamura aboard the shuttle signaling an emergency, calling the freighter that recently arrived in Vestri Star System. We are former passengers from the freighter Brian Smith, stranded here by pirates. The freighter pursuing us is from Apulu and is trying to take us from here by force. We urgently request that you alter course to meet us. Our life support is badly strained and won’t hold out much longer.”

He stopped speaking, staring at the display and wishing that he believed enough in his ancestors to pray for their help.

“You can’t wait for a reply,” the pilot said, sounding desperate. “They’re half a light hour away, which means half an hour for them to get your message, and another half an hour before we hear their reply. In another hour, it’ll be too late to meet up with my ship before the air gets too bad to sustain life. We’ll all die.”

“Maybe they’ll come to meet us,” Lochan said.

“They’ll think it’s a trick! They’ll think we’re pirates who want to trick our way aboard their ship!” the pilot insisted. “They won’t change course! Everybody on this bird will die because of you!”

He almost wavered then, thinking of the others in the passenger compartment, thinking of the kids.

Lochan looked at Mele. “What’s your advice?”

“Me?” Mele grinned. “I say we go for it. I wasn’t going to live forever, anyway.”

“She’s a Marine!” the pilot hissed at Lochan. “They’re all crazy!”

“I guess it wore off on me,” Lochan said. He knew what Cassie would vote, not out of fear for herself but worry about the others aboard, and Lukas was still making it clear he didn’t want to have the burden of decisions laid on him. Which meant that he was deciding this one. No, not just him. He and Mele. A team. He had never been a team player, but as Lochan confronted what might be his last decision he finally realized the truth of what Mele had told him, that being a part of a team wasn’t about diffusing responsibility as he had long thought, or letting others claim credit, but about fostering support for both decisions and individuals. Something he could not have decided on his own, he could do with Mele’s support. “We’re going for it. Adjust course to intercept that new ship as soon as we can.”

“It won’t be soon enough!”

“Do it,” Mele said, something in her voice causing even Lochan to feel a thrill of fear.

Shaking her head, the pilot made the adjustments, then sat back in her seat, eyes closed, her lips moving in silent prayer, or maybe in silent curses aimed at Lochan and Mele.

The last minute left before they could have still surrendered to the freighter from Apulu came and went. Lochan watched the slow progress of the new ship, wondering if he had doomed everyone aboard the shuttle.

It sure seemed like he had.