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Patrick swallowed. “I won’t put you all at more risk.”
Bar’in let out a frustrated roar. “Oh, forget that. Shit.” He growled his next words through gritted teeth. “Sazahk’s right. I don’t want to be the bastard that leads a genocidal army to some species’ last Colony Ship.” Bar’in looked at Tar and Fal’ran. “None of us do.”
Tar nodded his massive head. “We’re not the bad guys, sir.”
Fal’ran watched Patrick war with himself and imagined the years of conditioning and struggle and self-doubts stampeding through him. Years following orders and swallowing down the disgusting consequences. His loyalty. Who he was.
Fal’ran hadn’t known Patrick Smith for long. He knew that. But he also knew three more things.
One, that he wanted to know Patrick Smith for a hell of a long longer.
Two, that Patrick Smith was Klah’Eel, no matter what anyone said.
And three, that Patrick Smith was not a villain.
Fal’ran released Sazahk. “We’re not the bad guys, Patrick.”
Patrick’s bright blue eyes locked onto Fal’ran’s and Fal’ran gave him a small half smile.
“You’re not putting us at risk. You’re standing behind us,” Fal’ran continued. “And we’re standing behind you.” Fal’ran stepped forward. “Trust us.”
Patrick stood stock still, staring at the four of them.
A tremor wracked his body. Fal’ran tensed to catch him, afraid he’d collapse, when Patrick whirled back to the camera. A wall of rain and leather slammed into Fal’ran’s nose, a heady scent full of aggression, surety, confidence, and a conviction that stopped Fal’ran’s heart.
Patrick lifted his chin. “You cannot destroy a Colony Ship.”
Minister Hashi rocked back on to his heels, eyes widening in shock. A beat later, he surged forward with a snarl. “We can and we will and your opinion—”
“You can’t destroy a ship you can’t find.” Patrick tugged the translator from his ear and dangled it between his thumb and forefinger in front of him. “We are your only hope for finding that ship. We crush these and we go dark. And there goes your chance of finding the Colony Ship at all.”
“Shit,” Bar’in whispered.
“Yeah.” Fal’ran’s cock twitched in his pants. He’d found Patrick attractive before, but the man standing in front of the most powerful people in the sector, daring them to defy him, was an entirely different beast.
“Senator Zel,” Patrick addressed the room of qesh. “I understand you’ve staked your reputation on your honor.”
The qesh at the head of the table tilted his chin. “That’s correct.”
Patrick lowered his earpiece. “I want your word, here and now, that the Colony Ship won’t be assaulted before attempting negotiation.”
Minister Hashi banged his fist on the table. “The Qesh don’t have jurisdiction over the Klah’Eel fleet.”
“The Klah’Eel fleet is here on Qeshian invitation and on Qeshian terms,” Senator Zel replied sharply. Spikes of purple edged over his jawbone before receding slowly. “But there’s a hole in your proposal, Patrick Smith.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Is there?”
“How can we attempt negotiation when we have no way of contacting them?”
A roguish smile spread across Patrick’s worn, handsome face. “Easily.” He spread his arms and gestured to Fal’ran, Tar, Bar’in, and Sazahk behind him. “You’re already sending an envoy.”
* * *
Seven hours later, the explosive excitement of standing up to the most powerful governments in the sector simmered down to tense boredom. No one would rescue them. They would fly straight into the Colony Ship, alone, and request an audience with the Insects’ leader, while the entire sector’s armada watched on. At first, Fal’ran’s heart beat so fast it hurt. Seven hours later, his heart was too tired.
He sat with his back against the wall, his shoulder pressed against Patrick’s, inhaling his leader’s scent like sips of cooling water. He felt like he should do something: prepare, think, plan, exercise, anything. But after checking in with each of his men, Patrick simply sat and breathed, so Fal’ran did, too.
The stillness came more naturally to Tar, who leaned against the wall with his rifle held loosely in his grip and his gaze locked on the hostages. Bar’in sat beside him, bouncing his leg, and taking apart an Insect energy rifle with his standard-issue multi-tool.
