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Patrick shook the thought off and cleared his throat. “The Klah’Eel feed us, don’t worry. Though when you get a taste of army food, you might wish they didn’t.”
“What I eat isn’t important to me.” Sazahk’s tone indicated he’d already moved on and Patrick glanced back to see him studying the leaves of the jungle on the other side of a row of tents. “What sort of trees are those?”
“Um…” Big ones? Patrick had never thought about it. He just knew their broad leaves provided precious shade but held rainwater for so long that insects bred in the pools. “I don’t know.”
“They resemble a species that used to grow in the western hemisphere of Qesha. I wonder if someone brought them here.” Sazahk slipped in the mud as he stared up at the trees and stumbled but didn’t seem to notice. “It would have had to have been a very long time ago. The species went extinct about three millennia ago, but the Qesh and the Klah’Eel had already established diplomatic relations by then, so it’s not impossible.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Patrick held out an arm to block Sazahk from wandering out onto a busy road as a large squad jogged past in formation. “What I would like to know is why you’re here. I didn’t think you were with the Senate.”
“I’m not.” Sazahk tightened his grip on the strap of his duffel as they crossed the road and into the enlisted soldiers’ camp. “But there’s no better biologist than me and they’re desperate.”
That all tracked. The Insects had made no sort of formal stand or attack yet, and so far, no one had intercepted any communications. Ships showed up out of nowhere and disappeared again in seconds. Reports of sightings were haphazard and hard to verify. But there was a consensus that wherever the Insects were, it was in the Qeshian system.
“And you volunteered out of civic duty?” Patrick slowed as they approached Squad M’s tent. He wanted to solve the mystery of Sazahk’s motivations before he introduced him to the rest of the squad.
“No.”
Patrick raised an eyebrow that Sazahk wouldn’t be able to see from his angle. The strange qesh chose the funniest things to elaborate on and the funniest things not to. “Okay. Curiosity about a fascinating new life form?”
“Partly, but the Cartel could have given me that.” Sazahk stopped when Patrick did. “Zyk even offered to assign me a bodyguard so I could go wherever I wanted and do whatever research I wanted. Is this the squad tent?”
Patrick blinked at the non sequitur and followed Sazahk’s gaze to Squad M’s closed tent flap. “Yes. But alright, so I get why the Senate wants you, but what do you want from them?”
Sazahk had already turned and approached the tent by the time he answered. “A pardon.”
Patrick watched him go with a frown. A pardon? For his time with the Carta Cartel? Something told Patrick that wasn’t what Sazahk wanted the pardon for—maybe his ease at the camp or how he spoke of Zyk and Ha’ral as though they were old friends—but Patrick had no idea what else the Senate could have against him.
But Sazahk was already pulling up the tent flap and ducking inside, so Patrick filed the mystery away and hurried after him.
“What the fuck?” Fal’ran stood under the pull-up bar, a drop of sweat dripping over his jaw and down his throat. Patrick followed it all the way down over his collarbone until it soaked into the collar of his white tank before he yanked his gaze up to Fal’ran’s eyes. Fal’ran opened his hands in an expectant gesture and raised his eyebrows at Patrick. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Fal’ran, this is Sazahk.” Patrick stepped between them, surprised by Sazahk’s quick movement into the tent and that the introductions were already slithering out of his control. “Sazahk, this is Fal’ran.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sazahk inclined his head, the eddies of yellow on his throat coalescing into light green stripes. “I’m sorry to interrupt. Your form was very impressive. You must have excellent latissimi dorsi.”
Patrick cleared his throat to hide his laugh. He had to admit, Sazahk was right about that.
“Uh, thanks.” Fal’ran blinked and his shoulders dropped out of his aggressive posture as he watched Sazahk walk to the last empty bed and drop his duffel down.
“He doesn’t know what those words mean.” The lump one bed over shifted around and Bar’in sat up with a scowl, his dark brown hair mussed about his face.
“I know what those words mean.” Fal’ran’s shoulders shot back up into a tense stance and Patrick sighed.
“Bar’in, meet Sazahk.” Patrick waved between them. “Sazahk, Bar’in.”
“Hello, Bar’in.” Sazahk met Bar’in’s narrow-eyed glare with a placid innocence. “It’s nice to know there’ll be someone else that doesn’t fit the soldier mold. Your piercing looks well-healed.” Sazahk touched his own ear in the mirror location of the hole in Bar’in’s where his whore’s earring had hung. “You must have been very experienced. Have you found your unique skills to be helpful in this environment?”
Bar’in gaped and Patrick glanced at Fal’ran to see Fal’ran scenting the air with his eyebrows up. Fal’ran glanced back at Patrick and grimaced. Was Sazahk going to comment on every member of the squad as he met them?
Patrick stepped forward before Bar’in managed a response and turned Sazahk to their last teammate, who sat in uniform on the edge of his bed, as still and unobtrusive as a boulder. “And this is Tar. Tar, meet Sazahk.”
“Hello, Tar.” Sazahk started forward, then stopped and cocked his head. The light green on his throat spread up over his cheeks as he stared at Tar. “Oh.”
What the fuck? Patrick and Fal’ran exchanged glances again, but Fal’ran looked more thoughtful than confused and he crossed his arms as he looked away from Patrick and flicked his burnt orange eyes back and forth between Tar and Sazahk.
“Alright, well, that’s all the introductions.” Patrick clapped his hands. “Let’s get this day started.” He pointed at Bar’in and Fal’ran. “You two, in uniform.”
“What about the qesh?” Bar’in jerked a thumb at Sazahk without looking at him.
