“When he'd told me of his plan to get us past the Pax outposts, I was so impressed.” My voice was trembling, barely above a whisper. “I remember thinking that with such a sharp mind and fearless heart, it wouldn't be long before he had a command of his own. I was going to recommend him for a promotion as soon as we got back. I can't believe he's gone.”
“Well, he is,” Ranel answered coldly, “along with a dozen other officers who didn't have adequate time to impress you on a personal level. If I were you, I'd be a hell of a lot more concerned with the loss of the drop-shuttle and its weapon systems.”
I stared up at him, feeling as though he'd slapped me across the face. “Ranel, how can you be so damn unfeeling?”
“Because I'm a commanding officer in the Hielsrane fleet just like you are, and I've been given an important job to do,” he roared, his gruff voice filling the cabin like a sudden burst of flames. “We don't have time to mop up the mess from your bleeding heart right now. We don't have time for you to roll around on the floor whining and weeping like a hatchling. You want to be sad and introspective about the horrors of war? Fine, you can be as sentimental as you like...later, when we've won. When we return to Thirren, you can dedicate a monument to the slain and make a speech about the brave crew members we lost in our path to victory and blah-blah-blah. Until then, there's no time for that nonsense. The crew look to you to be their leader, not their mourner, so snap out of it before you're relieved of command.”
I stood up, trying to keep my back straight and my expression neutral. “Anything else to report, commander?”
“Yes,” he replied through clenched teeth. “The Pax insurgents are uniting and mobilizing in large numbers across the planet's surface. They've successfully hit about half a dozen targets so far.”
My guts wriggled as though they were full of cold worms. “How many more losses have we sustained?”
“None. They're not engaging our forces directly. They don't seem to have the offensive capabilities to do that, at least not yet. They're blowing up the mine shafts, igniting and destroying the mineral veins within. And they're focusing on killing the remaining slaves we've kept on the surface. They've exterminated roughly forty percent of them so far, with new reports coming in every hour.”
I blinked, confused. “What? Why would they do that?”
“Because those fuzzballs are smart little sons of bitches, that's why. They know our personnel are so limited that we have to dedicate them to hunting the remaining Pax down, rather than defending what we've already taken. So they're hitting us where they know we're spread the thinnest. They figure if they can't take us in a straight battle, they can make sure there's nothing left on this ball of rock for us to fight over—no more slaves, no more precious metals, no reason for us to do anything but abandon the place before we lose more shuttles and crew.”
“And if we leave, it'll give them time to rebuild,” I said slowly. “But this time, with heavier planetary defenses, courtesy of their Pax Alliance pals.”
“Exactly. Plus, they'd be a lot sharper about monitoring their outposts between here and Thirren, so we can forget about any cute tricks to avoid their sensors. No one gets that much free pussy twice in one lifetime.”
I nodded. “Not that I'd be involved anyway, since I'd be relieved of my command for failing in my mission. Suggestions?”
“Well, we're not leaving, that's for damn sure.” He thought for a moment, scratching his chin with a claw. “The way I see it, we need an edge, something that will give us a decisive advantage over the Pax. At the risk of bringing up an unwelcome subject once again, our best bet seems to be extracting information from the prisoner.”
“She doesn't know anything useful,” I said quickly.
“We don't know that for sure. With the right tactics, the proper motivation...”
“I won't order her tortured, commander.”
Ranel bared his fangs. “Just because you've had relations with her...”
“This isn't about that. Torture isn't an effective means of getting accurate information.”
“Neither is sex, but that didn't seem to stop you.”
I did my best to control my temper. “Another answer will present itself. I'm certain of it.”
“Very well,” he rumbled. “I'll return to my post and read more reports about our crewmates being slaughtered, while you sit in here waiting for a fairy to magically appear out of the bulkhead and give you the answer you're looking for. Sir.”
He left, and I sank into my chair again. I was furious with myself for not being able to come up with a solid plan, but I refused to resort to torture. The Hielsrane were warriors, and certainly bloodthirsty on the field of battle – but we weren't sadists.
Suddenly, I heard a soft scratching noise emanating from one of the panels on the bulkhead. I got up to investigate and the panel popped off, hitting the floor with a dull clang.
Natalie emerged, her torn overalls still hanging from her body.
“Did someone call for a magic fairy?” she asked, standing up and brushing herself off.
9
Natalie
All of it – being captured by the Hielsrane, the threats I'd gotten from Ranel and Dashel, the grimy nightmare of making my way through the passages behind the bulkhead filled with grease, dust, and toxic coolants – was almost worth it just for the look on Dashel's face when I stepped out of the wall in his cabin. He gasped, then sputtered. I didn't know how many hearts the Hielsrane had, but for a moment, I was sure the one in his body was going to go into cardiac arrest.
“How did you get in
