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Strike folded his fingers over the handle of one of his guns, and he shifted slightly to the left, partially concealing his female from their view.
And from danger.
“Put the guns away.” The father stepped onto the vessel. “We’re not at war with my son.”
“Father.” Tsadok strode forward and clasped the male’s arm.
“Son.” The father smacked his son’s shoulder. Hard. “Are you a danger to all of Powlus Zetus? Because our new allies—” His face twisted around that word. “—contacted us and said we should shoot down any unidentified ships in our space. I didn’t do that. Why would I?” He snarled. “I don’t take orders from them. Though they seem to think I do.”
“Was that new ally…the Minister of Defense for Syndiculous 5?” the friend asked.
“That’s the one.” The father glanced at her.
“Fates.” Strike’s female’s friend turned pale. “He tried to kill us. My dad tried to kill us.”
“Oh, Talley.” Strike’s female rushed to hug her.
Strike moved until he blocked both of them from view.
“Syndiculs.” Tsadok’s father shook his head and shifted his attention to him. “You’re far from your sector, cyborg.”
“What do you process about my sector, humanoid?” Strike challenged him.
“I don’t process enough about it, considering it borders mine.” The male’s eyes glinted. “But we’ve all heard the stories about your kind, how you fought for your freedom against those Humanoid Alliance non-warriors, and then claimed an entire sector for your own. You’re warriors like us.”
“You fly a Humanoid Alliance-designed warship.” Strike narrowed his eyes at the father. Humanoids could flatter and lie. Their actions told the truth.
“Yeah. Like it?” The male looked over his shoulder. “I got it from a contact on Cancri B. Didn’t ask where he got it from.” He grinned. “I figured if it was good enough for your kind, it was good enough for me. And my warriors like it. They now mutter about us having the cyborgs’ luck with the Fates.”
The male admired cyborgs. Strike’s processors spun as he grasped that truth.
“Why does the Minister of Defense for Syndiculous 5 want me to blow up a freighter carrying his daughter and my son?” The male returned his gaze to his son. “Why is his daughter wearing the traditional garment of the females from Tsicariuk Plains? And what happened to the negotiations you were undertaking?”
Tsadok abandoned the story they’d fabricated.
That was a tactic Strike approved of. His father processed too much of the truthful situation.
The friend’s male, instead, relayed the events semi-accurately. In his rendering, however, he and his female had already freed themselves from their abductors when Strike and Strike’s female arrived to rescue them.
That modification earned the male and his female respect from his father.
And it didn’t damage Strike or his own female in any way.
He didn’t correct the male.
Tsadok then turned control of the intel exchange over to Strike.
Strike relayed the little information he processed about the pulsing sound. He emphasized that there was a high probability it was being emitted from a weapon. And he suggested the Powluks work with the Syndiculs to strength their security.
The father didn’t embrace that idea. “The Syndiculs tried to trick me into killing my son.” His nostrils flared and his face darkened. “They lie. They place their daughters in danger. They have no honor. And you want us to work with them?”
“That was one being.” Strike’s female defended her kind. “We’re not all like that.”
“My female flew to another planet. She ventured into danger to save her friend.” Strike supported her. “She has honor.”
“She also has no formal place in Syndiculous 5 leadership.” The father’s truth couldn’t be denied. Strike’s female’s advisory role to her mom wasn’t publicly recognized. “And that one being? He was their highest-ranking warrior.”
The Powluks belonged to a warrior culture. There was an 87.1288 percent probability they viewed the Minister of Defense to be of more importance than the Global Minister.
