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Leon’s face went through a series of expressions—first stoic, then pained, then furious, and then just grim and tired. “The Klah’Eel want us to hand over Sebastian.”
“What?” Garrett shoved to his feet, his fists balling and righteous indignation bursting in his chest. “They want us to what?”
Leon raised an eyebrow, and despite the exhausted look on his face, his lips quirked. “I’ll have to tell Sebastian how ready you are to jump to his defense.”
Garrett gave him a disgusted look. “It’s not about him, and you know it. He’s one of ours. They don’t just get to ask us to betray him.”
“They’re asking for it as a show of goodwill.” Leon spread his hands. “They returned our prisoners to us, and in return, they want the individual that blew up half their leaders not that long ago. It’s not an unreasonable ask.”
“You’re not…” Garrett stared at his leader, his friend, his mentor, the closest thing he still had to family, and his heart plummeted. “You’re not considering—”
“Of course not,” Leon snarled. “I would fucking die before I let them lay a goddamn hand on him.”
Garrett’s heart reinserted itself into its rightful spot, and he settled back onto his seat on the edge of the desk. “Good.” He drank some klak to cover the awkwardness. “I hate him and think you’re crazy to trust him, but if you’re going to love him, you might as well do it properly.”
Leon smirked. “Defending his person and his heart. Sebastian will be so touched.”
“Don’t you dare tell him.” Garrett pointed a warning finger at Leon. “Like I said, it’s not about him. It’s about the principle of the thing.”
“Well, the principle of the thing is making intergalactic relationships even harder.” Leon shoved his data tablet at Garrett, who picked it up and took a quick scroll through the various missives.
The Humans offered aid but buried in their bureaucratic politeness was an understanding that any aid was contingent upon Southern Tava taking steps to rejoin the Human species state. Bastards.
The Qesh were frankly tired of mucking about in other people’s wars and were deciding to divert their resources to some mysterious threat from a new species from another quadrant. The serious concerns they expressed seemed genuine, but Garrett didn’t buy it. Bastards.
The Klah’Eel were weakened and practically impoverished from the war and long occupation, sore over their defeat, and tired of being painted as the villains. They’d returned the prisoners and offered the aid of the unit of soldiers they’d sent over with them but insisted they would need to see a little give on Southern Tava’s side in the form of handing over one of their own or some other financial concession. And Southern Tava had no financial resources to speak of. Also bastards.
Garrett shrugged and passed the tablet back. “No one wants to help us. What else is new?”
“Fucking nothing, I guess.” Leon tossed the tablet to the other side of his desk and raked his hands through his hair. “We’ll take the unit of klah’eel, though.”
“The fuck we will.” Garrett scowled and tried to toss the thought away with his hands. “We’ll escort them right back off Carta and back to Klah, thank you.”
“No.” Leon shook his head, and Garrett recognized that tone. “We will be polite and thankful and fucking welcoming, and when Patrick meets you at the shipyard in ten minutes, you will cooperate with him.”
“Cooperate with him on what?” Garrett sprang back to his feet. “Are you sending him down there with me? No Klah’Eel soldier should ever be allowed to set foot on Southern Tava soil ever again.”
“He’s not going with you.” Leon leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. Garrett felt a pang of guilt for adding to his burdens, but dammit, what sort of decision-making was this? “He and his pilots are just going to run security for you in the debris field. They’ll deal with the pirates.”
“They shouldn’t even be allowed to stay.” Garrett crossed his arms. “What if they try to nab Sebastian?”
“I already sent him off-planet.” Leon shook his head. “Last night, as soon as they made their request.”
That would explain why Sebastian hadn’t shown up to help with their Kurt situation. Garrett had honestly been a little surprised by that. Sebastian might be a ticking time bomb just waiting to betray them all, but he and Maxwell seemed genuinely close.
“Get going, Garrett.” Leon waved a hand. “Patrick will be there soon, and people need saving.”
“But what if they—”
“Dammit, Garrett.” Leon slammed his hand down on the table and finally stood. He wasn’t as tall as Garrett, but he always managed to seem like it, and Garrett winced under his glare. “We can’t keep expecting betrayal from every ally. We just can’t.”
“And why not?” Garrett snapped back. “If we expect it, we can prepare for it, we can prevent it, we can—”
“We can’t go it alone.” Leon grabbed Garrett’s shoulders. “Not forever. Even as the Resistance, we needed friends. As a country, we need even more. We can’t afford to be alone, Garrett. We won’t survive.”
Garrett pressed his lips together. He wasn’t used to hearing that desperate tone in Leon’s voice. He had a feeling it wasn’t so far off from how Leon usually felt, but he’d never let his façade drop before.
“Our planet is dying,” Leon continued, his hands shaking on Garrett’s shoulders. “Everyone who could help us has moved on to deal with bigger problems, and we don’t have anywhere near the resources to do anything about it. We have to accept any aid we can get.”
