Page 53 of Lorran
Saavi had placed the newcomers in a wing opposite of where the original crew holed up. An interesting choice, as it stressed the aging power and utilities, and suggested secrets to be kept.
“Power generators. Food supplies. This facility has been used recently,” Mylomon said.
“Did you find a weapons cache?”
“No, but I expect I will. The lower levels are a warren of tunnels.”
“Smugglers,” Lorran said. Abandoned and far from normal trade routes, the base provided an ideal location as a hideaway. “Any evidence that they transported sentient beings?”
Mylomon shook his head. “I believe this is more the bolt hole of one individual rather than a gang.”
Lorran had a strong idea who that individual might be. He disliked this situation, and hereallydisliked Caldar.
The base unnerved him. Neglected for decades, yet conveniently habitable, if barely. He wished he could bring his mate somewhere comfortable, somewhere safe.
He wanted to spend time with Bronwyn and to know her. He wanted to hear her laughter again. He never wanted to hear panic and fear in her voice again. Mostly, he wanted to complete this mission and return to theJudgment.
“How difficult will it be to get the female and child to return with us to the centralized sector?” Lorran asked.
“They cannot stay here. They are not authorized,” Mylomon said with such certainty that it startled a laugh out of Lorran.
“Authorized? This base does not exist as far as the Council is concerned.” The female might be of no concern for the Council, but the child needed to be brought to Sangrin. Mikah required training. The Academy was the place for him.
As for Calder, the male could go kiss an asteroid for all Lorran cared. If he wanted to stay by himself in a derelict base, trying to grow enough food, so be it.
“Let us send Ulrik off to the elders. Tomorrow we determine what supplies the base can offer to repair the shuttle and plan accordingly. We also need to monitor the Suhlik in this sector.” Mylomon’s desire to return to his mate remained unspoken.
“Agreed.” Lorran wanted to return to his mate as soon as possible too.
“We must also determine the nature of Ulrik’s research,” Mylomon said.
“Yes. About that—”
“What?” The question came out as a growl.
“So friendly,” Lorran quipped. “Let me lead the questions.”
“I am—”
“I am very aware of who you are and I happily follow your instructions, but if you go in there all snarls and fangs, they will clam up.”
“Clam up? A mollusk?”
Lorran nodded. “A human idiom. Is it not delightful? Clams have a shell that snaps closed when threatened. And that is what Calder and the female will do if you start demanding information. I, meanwhile,” he placed a hand over his heart and widened his eyes, “will bumble through and ask harmless questions and acquire the information.”
“Are you sure you won’t annoy them into submission?”
Likely.
Lorran grinned. “This. Right here. We are bonding. We are friends.”
“Do not dare repeat those words.” The male’s growl filled the corridor, bounding and rebounding off the walls.
“You are correct. There is no advantage in making theSRV-P11’screw jealous of our friendship.” Lorran held out his fist for the bumping ritual.
Mylomon gave the fist a cold look before walking away.
Saavi, Calder, and the youth waited outside. They followed a sandy path through the grass down to the beach, where a pyre had been built. The body had been prepared with oil, to aid the burn. No trace should remain, as was tradition.
