The guard glanced at him.
Khalzin nodded. "Answer her question."
The guard sighed. "Twenty-six confirmed deaths at this time."
"How many were on the ship?" Khalzin asked.
"One hundred forty-two including passengers and staff."
Janae nodded. "Do you have a manifest yet?"
"They do at the recovery site," he said. "We are heading there now."
She sat up straighter, her face solemn, and she stared out the window, waiting.
So was he, as far as that went. The shuttle was tense and hushed; the only sound was the engine running, and it seemed incredibly loud to him. He was counting the pulses of the machine, making sure that it sounded like it should, and there were no strange noises connected to it.
Like something had been damaged or otherwise messed with.
It was probably his nerves.
The shuttle started to head down, and they circled a structure he'd seen many times but had never been in.
"Is that the maintenance workhouse?" he asked as they descended to land. The building, one of the ones on the perimeter of the landing pads, housed all the equipment necessary for, well, any maintenance work.
Whatever was needed to be done at the landing platforms.
The shuttle touched down, and the doors barely came open when Janae bolted from the ship.
"Janae," Khalzin called out to her.
She marched over to the entry without stopping and headed straight for the doors. She tried to run right through, but others were guarding the entrance, and they wouldn't let her in.
He increased his pace to catch her, and as he did, so did the guards.
"But I'm one of them. You have to let me in there," Janae said.
The guards were not letting her in.
She waved her hand. "Are you blind? I'm not Kantenan. I’m from the Galactic Alliance. I’m a part of that ship! I need to get in--"
"Let us through," Khalzin said.
The guards looked at him, then back at her, then at him. "We were told no one, for any reason, was allowed inside. Not until it was safe." The guard glared at her, then back at Khalzin.
"Move," Khalzin said.
"Oh, for the Light's sake, let them in here," came Stron, from behind the guards. "He's a Gol-Vett."
The guards blinked and glanced between Khalzin and Stron. "As you command."
"That's right, I do command," Stron mumbled as they walked through.
His friend looked like he'd been through hell in the short time since they'd seen one another.
"I'd like to say I'm happy to see you," Stron said. "But I'm not happy to see anyone right now." He gestured to the hanger before him that was a chaotic scene of Kantenans and the Galactic Alliance humanoids, many different species, and everyone looked to be moving like they were either on a mission or they were wandering.
"I can see why," Khalzin said. "But you're well?"
