“It still carries risk,” Janwar warned her and had to fight to keep from blurting out a drek no. He hated the idea of Simone diving into danger. But she had more than proven that she could handle it. “If any Gathendiens spot you, something I think likely since you’ll have to make your way to each of the labs to look for your friends or anyone else in need of rescuing, they’ll sound the alarm—”
“—and send the station a distress call,” Srok’a bit out, “all while hurling every warrior they can at the two of you.”
Soval nodded. “What if you find more than one or two lab subjects? What if there are multiple cells full of them? People go missing on Promeii 7 all the time. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if the Gathendiens were responsible for some of those.”
She shrugged. “Then I’ll hold off the warriors until more of you can join us.” She caught Janwar’s eye. And I’ll make damned sure Kova doesn’t fall while trying to aid me.
Startled by her voice in his head, Janwar clutched her hand tighter. It was the first time she had communicated with him thusly. He wouldn’t think he’d like it. He sure as srul didn’t like it when Taelon and other telepaths spoke in his head. But as with everything else, it was different with Simone. And he found he enjoyed it as much as he would a touch of her hand. “All the Gathendiens would have to do,” he countered, focusing on the topic at hand, “is distract you long enough to toss a stun grenade into the room.” He arched a brow. “Stun grenades do affect you, don’t they?”
She nibbled her lower lip. “Yes. But I recover quickly. More quickly than most.”
He shook his head. “You’re lucky they didn’t hit you with one on the other ship.” The thought chilled him.
She wrinkled her nose. “They tried, the bastards. But I managed to duck and dodge them all.”
“Because you’re exceptionally fast. Faster than any man sitting at this table, including Kova.” Who would be incapacitated by a stun grenade if Simone failed to protect him.
That seemed to give her pause.
Kova scowled. “Don’t worry about me. I can—”
Srok’a slammed a hand down on the table, startling Simone so much she jumped. “Drek you, Kova!” he snarled. “You are not dispensable! Stop drekking acting like you are!”
And there it was.
Silence fell.
A muscle in Kova’s jaw jumped.
Srok’a wasn’t the only one that had raised this argument. Every member of the crew had at one point or another. Like Elchan, Kova had been born different. But the difficulties Elchan had faced as a result had been solely his father’s creation. Women had avoided him because they feared his father, not because they found him lacking. Kova, on the other hand, had been hated on sight by everyone on his planet except for his brother. Perhaps his mother might have loved him had she not died birthing him. But everyone else had spent every day of Kova’s life making him feel worthless.
Before Janwar could add his objection, he became aware of Simone’s grip on his hand growing tighter and tighter until it felt as if she might break his fingers.
He glanced over at her.
Head bent, she stared down at the table, a muscle in her jaw twitching as she gritted her teeth.
Concerned, he leaned toward her. “Simone?”
Her eyes beginning to glow, she offered him a tight smile. “I’m an empath. Remember?” She jerked her chin toward the glowering brothers. “That’s a lot of anger to take.”
Janwar carefully kept his own fury from rising when he scowled at Srok’a and Kova. “Calm the drek down and rein in your anger. Now. You’re hurting Simone.”
Both looked at her with surprise, the rage swiftly fading from their expressions.
Sighing, she relaxed and cast them all a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Being an empath can suck sometimes.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Janwar assured her, tempted to take her in his arms. “Is it better now?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Kova and Srok’a watched her with remorse while studiously avoiding each other’s gaze.
“Look,” Simone said as her hand relaxed in Janwar’s, “you’ve all been good to me.” She studied each man in turn. “And I don’t want to put any of you in danger. If we decide to sneak aboard the ship to covertly search for my friends and others they might have captured, I would prefer to do it alone.”
Janwar might have been the first to bark a protest, but he wasn’t the last. Everyone jumped in, shouting over each other to ensure their objections were heard while Simone frowned.
“If I may interrupt,” a cheerful male voice said, startling them into silence.
Simone glanced up at T as he moved to stand beside her in one of his android forms.
“If we catch up to the Gathendien ship before it reaches its destination,” T said, “I would be happy to accompany Simone in the covert operation you’ve described.”
Janwar stared at him. “What?” T didn’t go on special operations missions. He only joined them in the rare instances that bura went sideways.
She looked at Janwar and shrugged. “That works for me. T’s android body looks much harder to damage than a mortal’s. And if Gathendiens do manage to destroy it, he won’t die. He’ll continue to exist since his primary programming and consciousness resides here on the Tangata, right?” She glanced at the others, who appeared as stunned as Janwar felt. “Would that be feasible?”
“Absolutely,” T answered before anyone else could. “I am fully capable of piloting a C-23. Once we cut through the hull and board the ship, I will find a conduit I can use to tap into the Gathendien ship’s computer. I can then infect their communication system with a virus that will prevent them from contacting the station on the moon if they detect our presence. I may even be able to deactivate their alarm system.”
“What?” Janwar demanded.
“You will also be happy to hear,” T continued brightly, “that this form can sustain a great deal of damage and continue functioning. I am also stronger and faster than the rest of the crew, so I would be a great asset if we were to find multiple captives in need of rescuing.”
No one seemed to know what to say to that.
Simone bit her lip. “Does he not usually do those sorts of things?”
“Drek, no, he doesn’t,” Janwar said, worry rising. “T, have you been infected with a virus?” It was the only explanation he could concoct for T’s wild claims. “Run a diagnostic.”
“Running diagnostic,” T said.
Simone remained quiet, looking from one man to another.
“Diagnostic complete,” T announced. “All systems are performing as intended.”
“I don’t understand,” Elchan said.
“Me either,” Soval murmured.
Kova and Srok’a nodded, all anger gone now as they studied the gleaming android.
Janwar shook his head. “You’ve never disabled another ship’s comm system before, T. Why would you think you can do so now?”
“I don’t think I can. I know it,” T replied, his tone both happy and boastful.
“How do you know it?” he pressed.