“And now that I've bandaged the Mighty Warrior,” Stal rasped, “I suppose I should go down to the planet's surface and see to the slaves you've inherited thanks to this raid. Unless, of course, you were planning to bring them up here?”
I shook my head. “No room. This vessel wasn't exactly built for taking prisoners. It was all we could do to find adequate accommodations for the human woman.”
Stal nodded wearily. “Then I'll take the next drop-shuttle down. We wouldn't want any of the poor dears suffering from untreated wounds or ailments. It might detract from their resale value.”
“My sentiments exactly,” I agreed. “But before you go...you did conduct a thorough examination of the woman, yes?”
“Quite thorough.”
“And you didn't find any anomalies?”
Stal scowled at me impatiently. “Well, I didn't find any cosmic wormholes, warp bubbles, or tears in the space/time continuum in her large intestine, if that's what you're asking.”
I tried to keep my composure. Stal was a brilliant healer, and I was extremely fortunate that he'd been assigned to the Wyvern. Still, his persistent sarcasm and generally obtuse nature could be quite grating. “I mean viruses, bacteria, or any other sort of infections or maladies that could endanger the welfare of the crew.”
“Oh. That. Yes, now that you mention it, I did find that she was incubating several unknown but potentially dangerous extraterrestrial parasites, not to mention a bad case of Volarii Green Plague.”
“Really?!”
“No, Captain, of course not,” he snapped. “It's my job to make sure any entity brought aboard is quarantined and given a clean bill of health before anyone else is allowed to interact with them, and that's exactly what I did. I've inspected her for every known disease in the galaxy, checked every cell in her body for unknown elements, and scrubbed her with a laser bath just to be sure. She's probably cleaner and healthier now than she was the day she was born.”
I stiffened, trying to adopt a commanding tone of disapproval. “Doctor, I'm well aware of your credentials and I'm prepared to give your—shall we say, unorthodox manner some leeway. But I don't find those kinds of jokes particularly amusing.”
“I know you don't, and I know why,” he replied dismissively. “Your mate. Giliu Syndrome. Very tragic. Permission to speak freely, Captain?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you haven't been up until now?”
“You seem like a good man. You might even be a good warrior, though it's not for me to say. But I've spent all of ten cleks with you, and I can already tell you're deeply insecure about your first command, not to mention so germophobic you're practically paralyzed by it. You've just seized control of a planet but keeping control of it will be another matter entirely, and there's a ship full of Hielsrane looking to you for leadership. If I can smell the fear on you, so will they – so I suggest you show some backbone, quickly, before you fail everyone on board and bring disgrace to the entire fleet.”
I couldn't believe his audacity. “Is that all?”
“For the moment,” Stal replied, slinging his medical kit over his shoulder. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere.”
Stal left, and I headed toward the makeshift brig I'd had set up for the human woman, pondering his words. He was blunt nearly to the point of malice, and what he'd said to me had stung plenty, but I knew he was right. If I was going to impress anyone with the results of my first command, I figured I'd better make a more convincing show of being unflappable.
Before I reached the room with the cell, Ranel caught up with me.
“What's the situation on the surface?” I asked.
“Not ideal,” he rumbled. “We've got N-7 locked down tight, and the drop-shuttles have managed to take N-2 and N-6 as well. The others are proving...problematic.”
“They're fighting back?”
“The opposite, actually. They must have received an emergency transmission from the N-7 overseer before we scrambled their communications array. They've gone to ground. Vanished. Some of the Pax left slaves behind, while others appear to have massacred them on the way out, probably so we couldn't have them. Bottom line? We were prepared for barrages and firefights to subdue them, but a siege? Insurgents? Much trickier.”
“What are the chances they'll be able to mobilize against us?”
Ranel shook his head. “Uncertain. If they're able to cobble together a rudimentary comm net, they could meet up, form resistance cells, and start fighting back from the rocks and shadows. Our mission just got a hell of a lot more complicated, Captain.”
I sighed, irritated. This was the last thing I needed. “I suppose we'd better hope the human we captured has information we can use. Do you want to come in and conduct the debriefing with me? You're more imposing, and you already threatened her down on the colony, so she might be more afraid of you.”
Ranel crossed his large arms over his chest, smirking. “Good thing there are no other crew members around, or they'd know this was your first interrogation. Haven't you ever heard of the sugarfruit and the voltstick?”
“No, but I suppose you're about to tell me.”
He sighed, indicating that I was a hopeless case but that he'd magnanimously waste time explaining it to me anyway. “The farmers on the Gruulian moons use pack-beasts called Skulfurs to drag their heavy ploughs. Skulfurs are big and strong; the problem is, they're also stubborn and stupid.”
“Kind of like you.”
Ranel ignored my joke at his expense, as he so often did. “Sometimes, the farmers can coax the animals to pull the plows by rewarding them with sugarfruits. But when that doesn't get results, they jab their voltsticks into the creatures' fleshy hindquarters to shock them into doing what they're told. The point is, if one doesn't work, the other certainly will.”
“And I'm supposed to glean what, exactly, from that analogy?”
“You're the sugarfruit. You're the one who saved her from my wrath, remember? She might be inclined to
