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The Insects parted before them, and in seconds they reached the edge of the hangar. Prince Hyg touched his antenna to the wall, and the two sides of a double door folded open. They revealed what was obviously a break room, shockingly normal despite the furniture’s organic shapes.
“It’s not normally where I’d receive an audience with foreign dignitaries.” The prince walked to the far edge of the room and clasped his hands in front of him. “But I understand we’re short on time.”
“We’re not dignitaries, anyway.” Patrick shrugged a shoulder as the door unfolded shut behind them. “Simple soldiers. Right place, right time.”
“Or wrong place, wrong time.” Nam stationed herself against the wall behind her prince.
“I guess we’ll see.” Fal’ran’s fingers twitched with the urge to hold his rifle in his hands.
“The navies of every major force in the sector bear down on this location as we speak. Is that correct?” Prince Hyg’s wings snapped, and Fal’ran clenched his fist to keep from grabbing his gun. Prince Hyg shot him an apologetic look and his wings settled against his back again.
“That is correct.” Patrick crossed his arms. “And I won’t lie. A good number of them want to see you destroyed.”
Prince Hyg nodded a few times. “I’m sure they do. You stopped them. Why?”
“I paused them.” Patrick shook his head. “Only you can stop them. And even then, maybe.”
“Why did you pause them?” Prince Hyg pressed. “Why give up the advantage? Why risk your own life?” Prince Hyg pointed to Fal’ran with his chin. “Why risk the lives of your people?”
Patrick met Fal’ran’s eyes and twitched a smile. “Because we’re not the bad guys.” He looked back at Prince Hyg. “Not anymore. I’ve gunned down countless ships and people to protect my country and its interests and…” Patrick huffed an empty laugh. “Guess I’m sick of it.”
Prince Hyg pursed his lips, and his antennae curled around his shoulders. “What a privilege you have.” Fal’ran frowned, but Prince Hyg continued before Fal’ran questioned the statement. “I don’t think you’ve lied to me, so I won’t lie to you. My people aren’t going anywhere.”
Patrick sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. “That’s what I was afraid of. Is there anything short of genocidal threats that would convince you to move on?”
“Even if there were, we couldn’t.” Prince Hyg paced back and forth across the room, his back bowing as though he held the entire weight of the Colony Ship on it. “We ran out of fuel months ago. We thought we’d found a uranium stockpile large enough to get us to a new system but—”
“But the Carta Cartel and a Klah’Eel squad showed up at the last minute to defend it.” Patrick groaned and pressed his middle fingers to his temples.
“Yes.” Prince Hyg eyed him. “A Klah’Eel squad lead by a human in a Klah’Eel uniform.”
“Goddammit,” Patrick muttered.
Fal’ran put his hand on Patrick’s shoulder and squeezed but spoke to Prince Hyg. “So, we get you your uranium from somewhere else. That seems an easy negotiation. The sector’s governments all cough up enough uranium to get you on your way and then you leave.”
Prince Hyg’s wings buzzed. “It’s not that simple now. My people cannot survive on a ship, and we have been on this one for longer than we should have already.” He sliced his hand through the air. “No. We will build a new home and it will be here—” he pointed to the floor below him “—in this sector.”
“And if the species already living here don’t allow that?” Patrick spread his arms and looked around and for a moment they all saw the battleships encircling the Colony Ship. “What then?”
“My people need a home, and we will take yours, if we have to.” Prince Hyg pointed a long, black-nail-tipped finger at them. “My kind have done it before, and we can do it again. If you’ve done any research into us at all, you’ve heard the stories.”
Fal’ran glanced at Patrick. They’d heard…whispers. Rumors. From dubious sources, according to Sazahk and Patrick. A planet going dark with ships of refugees telling stories of being overrun by hive-minded monsters. Maybe Insects. Maybe not. Maybe nothing at all. But their sector was remote and isolated. Even the Qesh, the most advanced of the species states, had few diplomatic ties with governments or entities outside the systems.
But even if Fal’ran believed the worst version of every story he’d ever heard, he didn’t believe Prince Hyg. Even with his teeth bared in a snarl that would have made a klah’eel proud, Fal’ran didn’t feel the threat in his bones. He doubted Patrick did either because he didn’t rise to the bait. He watched Prince Hyg silently and blankly until Prince Hyg’s finger dropped.
“But those wars cost many lives.” Prince Hyg’s shoulders slumped, and his voice softened. “And a lot of time. And to be frank, we have little of either of those left.”
“You’re not in a strong negotiating position,” Patrick observed gently.
“No,” Prince Hyg admitted with a deep sigh. “We are not. My people…” He clasped his hands in front of himself again and turned away, staring into the wall. When he spoke again, his voice was small. “Halfway across the galaxy in a Colony Ship with no Nest is not where I ever thought I’d lead them.”
The smell of sympathy rose from Patrick’s skin. “Are you fleeing something?”
Prince Hyg’s antennae twined around themselves. “In a manner of speaking.”
“Maybe we can help you with that?” Patrick glanced at Nam, but she stared at her prince’s back, the tips of her own antennae curled up in as clear an image of misery as tears in a human’s eyes. “Give you something to fight back with, or support, or—”
“There is nothing anyone in your sector can do.” Prince Hyg’s voice hardened. “And even if there was, the details are far too sensitive to disclose.”
