Page 37 of Warrior’s Mate

"I'm working."

"So am I."

"Then drink yours."

"I did."

She stared at him. He held out the pouch.

"Is this an order?"

"No."

"Good."

She took it. The water was warm. It was the best thing she had tasted all day. Kaiven leaned against the wall beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

"Any word from the Brigade?"

"Fragments. Main forces are trying to return."

"Trying?"

"Communications are compromised across multiple systems."

"Consortium?"

His gaze shifted toward the civilians.

"Not here."

Maelis understood what he would not say in front of the civilians. If the Consortium had interfered with Farseek's warnings while the Brigade was away, there would be time for anger later—if they lived long enough to have it.

"How bad is the district?" she asked.

"Three confirmed Sargan ground teams. Possibly more. They're moving fast and avoiding hardened military positions."

"Because they want civilians."

"Likely."

She closed her eyes briefly. The Sargans were not targeting land or factories as the true prize. The people were the resource.

Not strategic resources. People were the resource.

"Maelis."

She opened her eyes. Kaiven had moved closer.

"Your family?"

The question struck harder than she expected. She had been reading names all morning, routing other people's parents and children and grandparents, and had not allowed herself to look at her own.

"My brother works north terraces."

"Have you contacted him?"

"No."