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The human leader of the visiting unit of Klah’Eel stood at the bottom of the gangway with a smile in his bright blue eyes and the rising sun glinting off his salt-and-pepper hair. Looking at the straight-backed and admittedly handsome older man, Garrett had a sudden flashback to his father, and his gut clenched unpleasantly.
The man reached out a hand as Garrett came down the gangway. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Patrick.”
Garrett stopped halfway down the ramp—too far to shake hands and far enough up that he kept the height advantage. “We haven’t.”
Patrick dropped his arm and huffed an unsurprised laugh. “Garrett Twal, right?”
Garrett crossed his arms. “That’s right.”
“My men and I will be running security detail for you on this mission.” Patrick mirrored Garrett’s stance, crossing his arms but tilting his head back to look at Garrett. Somehow, he managed to make the posture look comfortable. “If you think forcing me to look up at you gives you an advantage, you’ve forgotten I work with klah’eel.”
“I haven’t forgotten that at all.” Garrett raised his eyebrows. “Hard to forget that a human decided to side with the enemy over his own species.”
“I sided with my country,” Patrick replied without even a flash of defensiveness in his eyes. “But the war is over now, and we’re here to help.”
Garrett sneered. “You’re here for our torvar.”
“If you hand him over, sure.” Patrick shrugged. “Otherwise, I’m not in the business of kidnapping.”
“Sure you aren’t.”
Patrick chuckled and shook his head. “You’re free to believe otherwise, but I’m not your enemy, Garrett. Though I certainly understand your hesitation.”
Garrett ground his teeth together. He didn’t understand how a human could have joined the Klah’Eel army, though Patrick certainly wasn’t the only one who had. Technically, most, if not all, the humans living in Tava were Klah’Eel citizens. Those that had lived on the Klah’Eel side of the border before the invasion twenty-five years ago and then all who had continued to live in Tava after the Humans had signed away their rights to the Klah’Eel. Part of the peace treaty had been to transfer citizenship of all humans in the empire to the Klah’Eel so that they didn’t become a stateless people.
Hell, Garrett was pretty sure he was even a Klah’Eel citizen. Which, as far as he was concerned, only added insult to injury.
But Leon had ordered him to play nice, and the decrepit old ship behind him couldn’t fight off the pirates by itself.
Garrett jabbed his thumb over his shoulder to point at the ship. “This thing won’t withstand a single rocket. I need at least two fighters glued to its side in and out of that debris field to shoot down any incoming projectiles.”
“Understood.” Patrick nodded. “We can give you three and have the other four flying a patrol orbit to take out any pirates before they can get a shot off.”
“Tell your men to keep an eye on their sensors. These fuckers like to lurk behind debris chunks and spring ambushes.”
“We have some experience with sneaky and outgunned forces, but I’ll let them know.” Patrick quirked a smile, and Garrett let the jab at the Resistance slide.
Garrett loosened his stance and finally unclenched his jaw. Even he was too tired to stay braced for a fight that clearly wasn’t coming. “They probably won’t be much of an issue while we head down, but they’ll be a menace while we’re trying to leave.”
“I hear they’ve been experimenting with kidnapping.” Patrick’s eyes darkened.
Garrett nodded grimly. “Kidnapping and charging ‘fees’ for escort out of Tava’s orbit.” Garrett’s upper lip lifted.
Patrick growled lowly in the back of his throat—a distinctly klah’eel vocalization that gave Garrett chills coming from a human. “I’m sure my men will enjoy shooting them out of the sky.”
“Just try not to take me out with them.”
Patrick narrowed his eyes, and they stared at each other for a few moments. The thought had occurred to Garrett more than once since Leon had told him the Klah’Eel would be running security for them. It would be a simple thing for one of the Klah’Eel fighters to “misfire” and “accidentally” bring down the Resistance’s second-in-command. Garrett was known to them, and while he didn’t have quite as much Klah’Eel blood on his hands as Sebastian, they certainly weren’t clean.
Patrick kept his voice serious, not doing Garrett the disservice of pretending he was absurd. “We don’t currently have any orders to take you out.”
“And you’re not in the business of murder, I take it.” Garrett raised his eyebrows and parroted his deflection about Sebastian back at him.
“No, we’re not.”
They stared at each other for a while longer until Garrett broke the standoff and put his hands in his pockets. “Good. Any questions about the job?”
“Nope.” Patrick uncrossed his arms as well and raised his hand in farewell as he turned away. “We’ll be on standby and wait for your lift-off to follow you.”
