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“He was protecting my mate.” Drift utilized the Cancri word for genetic matches. “And for that, he has my sincerest gratitude.”
Hut grunted.
“He would die for your mate.” Gnuck smiled. “We would all die for her. And that was before we found out the Fates were helping her.”
Hut nodded.
“She would be honored to hear that.” Drift watched as his female chattered with another male.
She would also feel guilt over their expression of loyalty. His caring human would project they were taking their roles in the mission because of their allegiance to her. And not because they truly wanted a hero’s death.
“We had misgivings about volunteering for the Plan.” Gnuck reached out and grasped Hut’s hand. “Because if she survived it, and we were all trying to figure out how to ensure that happened, we wouldn’t be here to protect her. But now she has you and the blessing of the Fates. We can participate with no concerns.”
Hut nodded again.
Drift studied them. His female was the reason they’d considered not joining the mission. She wasn’t the reason they were taking it.
Their motivation was their own.
And… “You want her to survive?”
He was 100.0000 percent certain his female didn’t process that either.
“Someone has to ensure all the Invaders are dead.” Gnuck shrugged.
Hut frowned at his mate.
“And we love her.” Gnuck relayed intel Drift already processed.
Everyone in the structure loved his female.
“I felt the Fates were close to us that planet rotation.” Olds pushed his way through the crowd. “I drew my gun ‘cause everyone else was, but I wasn’t worried. I knew nothing would happen to her.”
More beings gathered around them.
The weathered male’s eyes glowed. Drift projected he liked having an audience. “That wasn’t the first time the Fates have visited Cancri B.”
Olds told a long weaving story that had, Drift calculated, a 14.2563 percent probability of being based in reality. Portions of it defied established science. And it centered on the male as the hero.
Beings asked questions, both of Olds and of him.
Every couple of moments, Drift’s female returned to him. She pressed her flight suit-clad form against his body armor-covered physique. They touched, kissed, chattered.
And then she continued her one-on-one exchanges with her team.
Drift tracked his female’s movements and monitored the area around them, looking for possible threats, and he chattered with the growing crowd forming around him.
He relayed advice on how to deal with the battle. He talked about the moments of bravery he’d witnessed. And he reassured the males that his female would survive and their sacrifice would be valued.
His female finally completed the circuit. “It’s time.” She moved with him to the vat.
The Cancris grabbed their tools and their packs, and they formed a line along the bar.
Drift’s female gave each male their assignment, relaying what they were to do, when they were to do it, and where they should place their concealed explosives.
Drift inserted the cylinders into the handle compartments in the males’ tools.
The two of them worked closely. As a team.
