But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

Na’vak pulled back. His eyes zipped through the line of them. “Where are the rest of your zaptens?”

“They are where they should be,” Korben said briskly.

“That is a rather vague answer.”

“You are the one throwing vague accusations,” Lans growled through gritted teeth.

Na’vak’s eyes slammed into him and narrowed. “You have something you wish to say, Lans?”

“Neh.”

“Because it sounds like you do.” Na’vak’s boots thumped against the ground as he stepped closer. “It sounds like you and the others, encouraged by your terros, tried to take on a monumental Heronas problem on your own.”

Lans clenched his jaw.

“You deny it?”

“We only did what we had to.” He stared right at Na’vak. “We protected our tribas.”

“You endangered our entire species and when you had a chance to save the Healer you saved your comrade instead.”

Korben stepped forward. “If you wish to scold anyone, scold me. I was the one who insisted we follow the Heronas’s every instruction in order to protect my brother. I will admit,” he glanced aside, “I was conflicted and desperate. I am ashamed as the terros.”

“You may be the terros, Korben,” Na’vak said in a slow tone, “but every Plutonian is capable of choosing on their own. The principle of free will still applies and it will as long as there is Plutonian life on this planet.”

Lans stared a hole into the ground. If he caught one look at Na’vak’s smug face, he would explode. The problem with living forever thanks to the Healer’s skills was that the older generation never passed on to make room for new ideas.

He had long since been agitated against the elders’ unbending regime. It was why he’d gone far in search of a smaller cluster where he would not be so deeply scrutinized and controlled.

Korben was his comradeandhis terros. He did not rule by force. He did not expect those around him to obey simplybecausehe had a title. He earned their respect in battle. He put himself in danger for them countless times over and thus had gained loyalty. Many times, Korben encouraged others to take the lead.

But Na’vak?

Neh. This old warrior only wanted to hear himself speak.

“And,” Na’vak pointed a finger in Lans’s face, “there is the issue of the females.”

Every sinew in his body pulled tight.

Na’vak arched an eyebrow nub as he rubbed his chin. “If I know you all, and I do, there is very little chance that you failed to acquire these rare females.”

“What would you need of human females?”

Na’vak tilted his head. “There are rumors saying these females can carry Plutonian young.”

Lans jerked forward, but Pin slapped a hand over his bicep. His comrade spoke calmly. “You heard this from where?”

“Warriors who escaped from Heronas prisons.” Na’vak’s sharp eyes took in Lan’s agitation. “They overheard Heronas’ technicians speaking of the coveted blood from the offspring of humans and Plutonians. They seek the healing properties afforded by this blood as much as they seek the secrets of the Healer.”

Lans pulled his lips in and struggled to hold himself together, noticing that even Zar was keeping his peace. The warrior was usually the first to explode at the slightest provocation, and yet he was remaining stoic and tight-lipped.

Zar could not be as calm as he looked, which meant that he was keeping his emotions close to the chest to protect the females.

Lans determined to do the same.

Na’vak marched toward him. “Lans, is there something you want to tell me?”