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Loka had to smile. “She has a sweet tooth. Heather often has candy in her office.”

“She is your mate?” Aho asked. “I did not realize Heather was looking. She is not supposed to find a mate.”

“How do you know that?”

Aho looked down. “Well, when I first started running the station’s store, I might have asked her out.”

Loka found himself growling under his breath. He did have a rival. It was not the bronzed, muscle-bound Galaxar but the black-eyed Koob.

Aho raised his hands in supplication as if sensing Loka’s anger. “Heather very sweetly turned me down. She told me her job kept her too busy to have a romantic life. She is saving for something big and can’t afford to be distracted by love.”

Loka shared a knowing look with Hoan. That had been his argument. Heather was too busy for him. She was too busy to find love with him. Loka realized he didn’t care. He still wanted Heather in his life. Even if he had to wait, he would do so. Heather was a woman worth waiting for.

“Do you really think we can get out of this cell?” A Draxdan walked over. “I’m about ready to chew my own arm off if I don’t get something to eat soon.”

“You will fight with us?” Loka had not expected a Draxdan to be interested in conflict.

The Draxdan smiled and extended a hand. “I’m Blian. We might be known as the stars’ peacemakers, but push us too far, and we are happy to break a few heads. And when I’m hungry, I’m not pleasant to be around.”

“That is so true,” another Draxdan said. “Blian needs topping up every few hours, or he turns into a complaining asshole.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“No one likes a complaining asshole. We need to get out of here and get your friend a meal,” Loka said.

Blian grunted and then nodded. “I claim the badge of a hungry alien asshole. I’ll let my hunger fuel my rage.”

“The Banti and Vincole have no interest in us,” Loka said. “They’re here for one thing only, to take the humans.”

This comment got several more aliens involved. It seemed Loka wasn’t the only one with an interest in the humans. They formed a loose semicircle around Loka and Hoan.

The Galaxar extended his uninjured arm and fist bumped Loka. “I’m Padam. They cannot take the humans.”

“You have a mate here?”

“No, my friend does. I’ve been tasked with keeping an eye on her when the boss is away on business. Solan left two weeks ago. He has no idea what’s going on. If he did, he’d take the first flight back and destroy the place and any Banti or Vincole who stood in his way.”

Loka recalled seeing pictures of a huge Galaxar sitting on a desk in Heather’s office. “Do you mean Vegas?”

Padam smiled. “That’s right. Heather is Vegas’s best friend. Solan and Vegas have been mated for months.” His smile faded. “If Vegas is in trouble, then I must ensure her safety. Solan will string me up if I fail him. I took my eyes off her for five minutes to chat with a charming human. The next thing I knew, cyborgs were attacking.”

Loka looked down at Padam’s damaged arm. “You don’t look like you’re in much of a position to fight.”

“I have one arm that works. That’s all I need.”

Loka knew the warrior reputation of Galaxars. This Galaxar would be strong in a fight, broken arm or not. He looked around at the group. They were in a bad way. Most had bloody faces or held their sides, suggesting they’d been kicked or punched. At least their injuries showed they did fight and were willing to do so now.

“The cyborg guards will be here in a few minutes,” Hoan said. “We overpower them and get out of here.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” the Retar asked.

“There’s enough of us to take them down,” Loka said.

“That won’t work.”

“I’ve disabled cyborgs with my horns,” Loka said. “They are not indestructible.”

Padam clapped him on the shoulder. “Nice work. I was admiring your horns. I wouldn’t mind a pair myself.”