Page 39 of Warrior’s Mate

"How close?"

"Less than one kilometer."

The grain complex changed around them. No alarm had sounded. No civilians had heard. But Maelis saw the battle enter Kaiven's body: shoulders settling, attention narrowing, softness disappearing without becoming cruelty.

He touched her elbow.

"Get everyone deeper inside."

"I know."

"Maelis."

She looked at him.

"I need you away from the outer doors."

The protective instinct surfaced again, but this time it arrived as a request shaped by fear rather than an order disguised as affection.

"I'll stay where I can run the movement network," she said. "If that's deeper inside, fine."

His eyes searched hers.

"Thank you."

"Don't make me regret agreeing with you."

"I wouldn't dare."

He left. Maelis turned toward the shelter coordinators.

"Move families into the lower storage corridors. Quietly. No lights near exterior vents."

People obeyed. A mother picked up a sleeping child. Two teenagers helped Elder Sava into his repaired lift chair. The old man grinned at Maelis.

"Military finally found you a battery?"

"Try not to sound disappointed."

"I was hoping the captain would carry me."

"You'd enjoy that too much."

Sava laughed softly as he moved away. The humor helped. So did the work. Maelis checked the civilian streams still in motion.

Three groups had reached safe sites, two were still moving, and one had stopped transmitting. Maelis stared at the silent marker.

"Come on."

For several seconds the channel gave her nothing. Then a new signal appeared—narrow, directional, close enough for the local system to translate automatically, and unmistakably not Farseek.

A harsh voice spoke in accented trade language.

"Remain where you are. Cooperation preserves value."

Maelis's skin went cold. Around her, several coordinators heard it too. One whispered, "Value?" The transmission repeated.

"Remain where you are. Cooperation preserves value."