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Prince Hyg’s eyes widened. “Excuse me.”
“This one.” Nam shook her head. “He pushed every button in the ship on the way over here.”
“Not now, Sazahk.” Patrick pulled Sazahk back and pinkish purple plumed up Sazahk’s throat.
“I may not get another chance.” Sazahk’s lips pinched into a point. “These negotiations aren’t guaranteed to succeed. We might destroy each other before we ever get to have another civil conversation.”
Prince Hyg’s lips curled into a smile. “I encourage you to impart your scientific curiosity to your emissary then.”
Sazahk scoffed. “The emissary you’re about to meet wouldn’t know scientific curiosity if it bit him in the ass.”
Fal’ran’s eyebrows shot up and Patrick blushed darker, but Prince Hyg tilted his head back and laughed with a tinkling, musical sound.
“I see your kind have all the same tensions between castes as we do.” Prince Hyg shook his head as his laughter died away. “Perhaps these talks will go better than you expect.” A low grinding shook the ground below them. “We are about to find out.”
The floor continued to vibrate, accompanied by the low, echoing sound of heavy machinery. It reminded Fal’ran of the all-encompassing rumble of the Moon Projects’ outer hatch sliding open for a freight. The thick plates of the enormous wall behind their ship ground together, slotting on top of one another, and spiraling open to form a large hole. Through the hole sailed a sleek Qeshian ship.
Chirps loud enough to be heard over the ship’s engines swept through the hangar. As the ship lowered, the Insects on the floor swarmed away, leaving a sizable landing zone.
“Everyone, to me.” Patrick raised a hand and their squad fell into formation. He nodded at Prince Hyg. “It’s been an honor to speak with you, Prince Hyg.”
Prince Hyg nodded regally back. “Likewise, Patrick Smith, Battalion Four, Squad M.”
Patrick huffed through his nose. “Those titles may not be accurate by the time we meet again. If we meet again.”
Prince Hyg raised an eyebrow. “Promotion for peacekeeping?”
“More like the opposite.” Patrick motioned them forward and toward the ship as its gangway opened. “Move out.”
They moved in single file toward the ship, Patrick, Fal’ran, Sazahk, Bar’in, and Tar. As they approached, the edge of the gangway ramp touched down and a form appeared, silhouetted against the light of the ship’s interior. Fal’ran missed a step when a massive klah’eel strode down the gangway instead of a lithe qesh.
“Patrick Smith, you crazy bastard.” The klah’eel shook her head with a growl, her gatlung held tight in both hands.
“Lar’a.” Patrick’s smell filled with unadulterated joy. “A fucking sight for sore eyes, as always.”
“Yeah, I bet you’d like another gatlung in a place like this.” The klah’eel woman, Lar’a, rolled onto the balls of her feet and scanned narrow eyes over their audience as though sizing up an opponent she legitimately meant to take on. Her gaze caught on Fal’ran and, to Fal’ran’s surprise, she bared her teeth in an expression both teasing and challenging. “I heard this one’s good with his staff, though.”
“Lar’a—now—” Patrick choked as the back of his neck flamed red and embarrassment flooded from his pores.
Fal’ran smelled his own embarrassment at Lar’a’s shit-eating grin, but he forced his chin up, anyway. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Maybe later, pup.” Lar’a turned her head to call over her shoulder. “Serihk. To me.”
On cue, the tall, elegant qesh Fal’ran had expected, glided toward them, his robes sweeping behind him.
“Patrick Smith.” Emissary Serihk nodded to Patrick before stepping to Sazahk. “Sazahk. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you safe.”
“No, I’m sure you can’t,” Sazahk hissed back.
Emissary Serihk clasped his hands behind his back and squeezed them tightly enough to turn his knuckles pale. “I mean that. And father—”
“I don’t need to hear about father.” Sazahk’s shoulders pulled up and blue crawled up his jawline. “And we don’t need to do this now. You’ve got a job to do. And my team is tired. Are you going to let us in or not?”
Emissary Serihk’s skin didn’t betray a single color, but Fal’ran suspected that betrayed more about his feelings than he intended. But the qesh didn’t argue. He stepped aside and motioned them up the gangway. “Of course. Please, come aboard. You’ve all done this sector a great service.”
Patrick tossed his head and Bar’in, Sazahk, and Tar shuffled up the gangway. Fal’ran didn’t leave Patrick’s side.
“Good luck, you two.” Patrick smiled at Lar’a and Emissary Serihk and Fal’ran could see in the twitch of his arms how much he wanted to embrace Lar’a. But he didn’t, and Fal’ran squeezed his shoulder as they walked up the gangway and passed the fate of the sector into Emissary Serihk’s hands.
