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Patrick’s lips quirked. “That’s my army unit, yeah.”
She studied Sazahk, Tar, Bar’in, and Fal’ran. “These are your men?”
“They are.”
“They came here to rescue you.” The woman turned her eyes back on Patrick. “They must love you very much.”
Patrick blushed, and Fal’ran inhaled to smell his embarrassment and pride. He swept his blue eyes over each of them, catching on Fal’ran longest. When Fal’ran nodded, they skittered away again. “I…think they do, yeah.”
The woman’s antennae smoothed down her shoulders. “Alright, Patrick Smith. My name is Nam Drone. And you’re in luck.”
Patrick raised both eyebrows with a smile. “Am I?”
Nam lifted her chin and if Insects had scents klah’eel recognized, Fal’ran was sure she’d smell of pride. “I have served the prince my entire life and most of his. If I advise him to hear you out, he will.”
Patrick leaned forward. “And you’ll advise that?”
“If when we arrive at the Colony Ship, you’ve kept your word and we’re not under attack—” Nam paused and fixed Patrick with a stern glare “—then yes. I will advise that.”
“That is all I ask.” Patrick bowed his head. “I’m eternally grateful, Nam Drone.”
Nam chittered in clear laughter. “Don’t be so sure. I said he’d hear you out, not that he won’t kill you afterwards.”
“We take our wins where we can find them.” Patrick clapped his hands on his knees with a crooked grin and stood. “I hope you understand we still can’t let you up.” Patrick tilted his head to indicate Tar and his rifle. “Can’t have you making a dash for a control panel and sabotaging our flight path.”
Nam flicked an antenna. “I understand.”
“Speaking of which,” Patrick put his hands on his hips. “Any idea how much longer we got?”
“I expect us home any second now,” Nam replied.
Patrick blew out a deep breath. “Alright then.” He turned from the Insects and to the rest of the team. “How’s everyone feeling?”
“Ecstatic,” Sazahk lifted his head from his tablet long enough to flash Patrick a genuine grin.
“Yeah,” Bar’in added flatly. “What he said.” But when Patrick opened his mouth, Bar’in waved him quiet again. “I’m fine. We’re fine. This was all our idea, anyway. Well—” he wobbled his head back and forth “—I said we shouldn’t shoot down their ship, I didn’t say we should fly right into it, but you know, beggars, choosers, something.”
Patrick huffed a laugh and turned to Fal’ran. “You?”
“It’s better than the Moon Projects and it’s better than being stuck on Base Givast, so I’m great.” Fal’ran grinned from his seat on the floor and, as if he couldn’t help it, Patrick’s lips split to match his. “Also, I’m still replaying the way you looked when you told Minister Hashi to suck your dick.”
Patrick’s face flamed redder than Fal’ran had seen it in weeks. “I did not say that.”
Fal’ran snorted. “You basically did.”
“I did not.”
Bar’in interjected without looking up from poking at an Insect’s energy rifle. “You did.”
“It was hot,” Fal’ran added.
“Okay, enough.” Patrick covered his face with his hand and Fal’ran snickered.
He was about to keep pushing, wondering if he could make the tips of Patrick’s ears blush so hard, they turned purple, when the ship lurched hard enough to make Fal’ran sway, and reality curdled his stomach back into seriousness.
The Insects chittered amongst themselves. Only Nam spoke loud enough to be heard. “We’re landing.”
Patrick picked his gatlung up off the ground and swung it over his shoulder. “Form up everyone. Sazahk, Bar’in, behind me. Fal’ran, on my left. Tar, on my right. Nam, get your people in front of me and on their feet.”
