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"The Lizordian claimed to be a reaver," Mordox says.
"Why would Valosians place bounties on humans?" Bruke asks, sounding as confused as the rest of us. "They know nothing of life beyond their own world."
"Rumors throughout the galaxies say the Gretolics have gone rogue," I say. "Their masters, the Grites, no longer hold dominion over their creepy, gray creations. It's said they have found ways to sneak past the Yulineon patrollers and steal human females to sell at the flesh market on Tirius."
"Yet that does not explain Valose," Slye pipes up.
"No, it doesn't," I agree, growing concerned. "Tasha and I saw the Lizordian when we visited the Gilded Orb. I think he followed us to Crao."
"You're a wanted male." Rooke turns suspicious eyes on me. "How were you on there without being seen?"
"We both wore hologuises, but Tasha bumped into the Lizordian and hers blinked off for a split second."
"A split second long enough to reveal her true species," Drax sneers.
"Be that as it may, it still doesn't explain the bounty placed on their heads by the Valosians," Mordox ponders. "What would they want with humans?"
The air between us crackles with unanswered questions and tension born of the need to get our females back. A bond forged between us from the heat of battle and the shared agony of loss.
"Does this ship have access to the Universal network?" Drax asks.
"Yes," I say and point to a terminal at the back of the command deck.
"I'm going to search for what I can on the Gretolics." Cradling his injured arm, Drax winces, then sets his jaw stubbornly. "See if there's any talk of Valosian activity."
"I have limited weapons on board," I say, telling Mordox where to look inside my quarters. "Arm up. My fellow Star Maverick is closer to intercepting the Lizordian than we are, but once we catch up, we'll board the ship and get our females back. I'll morph into my sivot and take the lead."
"Even if we're not outnumbered," Mordox begins, "all of us squeezing through the hatch single file is a bad idea. We'll be picked off before we can get off a shot."
"We hit the ship with a blast from the forward dyri cells and kill the power," Drax says from the terminal behind me. "The electric jolt will knock them unconscious, then we can board."
"As well as our females," Rooke adds.
"Better they be knocked unconscious than in the custody of that reaver," I growl.
TASHA
The chill of the medical bay seeps into my bones, but it's nothing compared to the icy dread coiling in my gut. Trapped in this transparent prison, I can't help but replay the moment we were ambushed, the way Qhix's sivot crumpled to the ground, the sound of his beast's body hitting the hard ground of Crao echoes in my mind like a haunting refrain. My heart clenches at the thought of him lying there, vulnerable and alone.
I press my palm against the cool clear wall that hems us in and study the thin, sleek device Lena found. "We must act now. Every tick of the clock takes us farther and farther away from Crao and our males."
I look around, taking in the clinical atmosphere. Soft, artificial lights illuminate every surface, yet there is no warmth here, no comfort, only the relentless reminder that we are not in control.
If abduction has taught me anything, it's that control is just an illusion, and sometimes you have to shatter the illusion to seize your destiny. I scan the determined faces of the four women who have become my sisters. We've all changed since Tirius, become something fiercer, wilder... survivors.
"We need a diversion, something that'll keep Rex's attention while I cut through the lock," my voice is low and steady as I take the tool from Lena’s palm. Its cool surface kisses my skin, whispering promises of freedom.
"Something he wouldn't expect from us," Lena adds, her eyes glistening with the reflection of the sterile bay we were trapped in.
"He loves cowboys," Jules says, having finally emerged from the corner to join our group seated in the floor on the far side of the room.
"I've heard him humming before," Elle offers. "The tunes sound familiar. I'm not a huge country music fan, but the tunes he hums sound like popular songs I've heard before."
"Maybe we can engage him in conversation. Ask him what it is he's humming," Romy suggests.
"I think it will take more than the exchange of a few words to keep his attention focused on something other than Tasha cutting through the lock," Lena says. "The light it throws off is pretty bright. Maybe it should be me to cut us out."
"No. I'll do it," I say, sheepishly. "It's my fault five of us are in this mess."
