There was no hope for it, though. He had to do the right thing. Even if it killed him. “You Th caste males, always thinking you’re more talented than you are.” He evaded the first blow, but not the second. Down he went again, and, for Frey, he got back up.
“Nobody move, speak or even fucking breathe. Not yet.” Clamping his mouth shut, Dax followed his own orders. He strained to hear if anyone came running.
A minute ticked by, then another and a few more before he felt comfortable believing they’d managed to board the alien ship undetected. “I guess our friends really did right by us.”
His crew had formed a half-circle around him, guns at the ready. They all smiled with relief. Cleo had managed to dock them against a narrow hatch in the belly of the larger ship. Given its size, Dax bet Travians used it to funnel really small supplies from one ship to another. The opening wasn’t big enough for a Travian to squeeze through easily, if at all. He and Branch had struggled to wriggle themselves through, that was for sure.
“What now?” Ben whispered.
Dax hated having the kid along, but given the limit of his ship’s complement, he hadn’t had any choice. If they stood any chance of finding and freeing Frey, he needed all the help possible. The moral implications of risking one kid’s life to save another were too difficult for Dax’s soldier’s brain to work through. Ben’s question was a good one, though.
“We move forward, quietly and methodically. We avoid as much as possible, kill when necessary.”
Branch looked disappointed at that last order, the blood-thirsty son of a bitch. Still, if it did come down to a firefight, Dax appreciated that the man would be on his side of it. The alien rifle he held in his arms felt foreign, even though their Travianfriends had trained them on their use. He would have preferred his familiar human weapons, but while humans still had projectile-based ones, the Travians had harnessed lasers. There was really no question they were better off with the alienware.
Taking point and gesturing to Branch to cover their six, Dax started the slow journey through the stacks of plastic boxes. The hold wasn’t quite as big as he’d expected, although big enough to be carrying a few dozen containers of what he assumed were weapons. If only he had the time to stop and inspect them. Maybe on the way back with the boy, assuming they weren’t running for their lives.
Something flashed overhead, a blur of movement that had him and the others lifting their rifles. A ball of purple landed a few meters in front of him. Everyone retrained their rifles down toward it until Dax held up his hand to hold. The ball unfurled to a small, monkey-like creature, and its arms were raised in a universal sign of ‘I’m unarmed.’ It stared at Dax, unblinking. He stared back, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. This was no Travian, but what was it, and was it friend or foe?
“Can you understand me?” he asked in a hushed voice.
The creature shook its head, which might mean no, except that would be stupid. How could it answer with a no if it didn’t understand the question? Before Dax tried again, the creature started walking backward with a rolling gait. It gestured with one of its hands, paws—whatever—and that signal was pretty damn clear.
He looked over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Cleo grabbed his arm before he took a step. “How do we know we can trust this thing?”
“We don’t,” he retorted. “But I can’t see why the Travians would employ it to lure us into a trap when it would be so much easier to wait until we walked ourselves right into their arms. Let’s play this out.”
So saying, Dax stepped forward. He swore the purple monkey grinned in encouragement. “We’re here to rescue Frey.” This time he was sure the creature grinned, and it waved them forward with greater urgency.
Frey couldn’t hold back the whimper when Kuren reached for him again. Words of pleading pressed against his closed lips, desperate to come out. He held them back with effort, knowing they’d make the asshole even happier than he already was brutalizing his human pet. No, he was Rone’s pet. This wasn’t over yet. Kuren kept his weapons in the quarters with him. He obviously didn’t think Frey was any kind of threat. Too bad they were laying so far from the bed. Frey had no hope of reaching them unless Kuren fell asleep. So far, he showed no sign of flagging energy.
Kuren’s meaty hand wrapped around Frey’s arm and squeezed as he pulled him closer. “I can see why Rone became so possessive of you. I almost hope he succumbs to Avith’s efforts. Keeping you will help ease the irritation of finding a new runner.”
Frey said nothing, as there was nothing to say. He just went boneless in the alien’s hold, letting him put Frey’s body in whatever position he wanted. Closing his eyes, he tried to drift to that place in his mind where things hurt less.
“How the fuck did you get in here!”
Kuren’s weight lifted suddenly off him. Frey opened his eyes and saw Preen had come into the room. Kuren was already moving to grab a gun. Frey didn’t even form a coherent thought before launching his aching body off the bed. He leaped onto Kuren’s back before the guy had fully stood. Frey snaked hisarm around the thick neck and tightened his hold with all his strength. His small body had little impact on the larger creature.
But suddenly there was a commotion by the door. A man strode in, rifle at the ready. He homed in on Kuren and Frey in an instant. Frey hurled himself off Kuren to avoid the line of fire. The man didn’t hesitate. He dropped Kuren with a single shot to his face. The Travian fell heavily right by Frey’s foot, which he pulled out of the way just in time. Panting with pain and exertion, dazed and confused, Frey watched a woman, another man and a kid no older than him file in, then shut the door.
It was Preen, though, who raced to Frey first and put its furry little arms around him. Frey hugged the creature close, tears clouding his vision for a moment while he pulled himself together. He gently pushed Preen back enough to sign.
“You led them here?”
“They’re your people, yes?”
Frey grinned widely.“Yes, except I’m not sure who they are or what they’re doing here.”
The man who had shot Kuren came over to kneel by Frey’s side. “Frey Bjorkson, right?”
Frey blinked back at him in surprise. “Yes, sir. How did you know?”
The man’s expression turned grim. “We found Halo III.”
Frey sniffed back his tears. “Did they get a proper burial?” He didn’t know why that mattered, yet it did. His mother had once said it was the final act of the living for the dead.
