"What will happen to Commander Corwin?" asked Tierney, hoping First Arrat -- now Commander -- wouldn't see through her carefully constructed facade of professional curiosity.

"Tausson is no longer a commander," said Commander Arrat, sitting across from Tierney at her desk. It wasn't a dig at him -- just a statement of fact. "He is currently confined to the Irral, without conveyance or communication privileges. If Control accepts his defense of accidental killing of the human, then he may be reinstated, although that is unlikely."

"But it was an accident," said Tierney, forgetting to keep her emotions hidden. "I was there. He was devastated when he killed that man. There were three others, and he could have used his weapon on them too, but he didn't. He hardly touched them -- just got their weapons away from them so they'd leave us alone."

Commander Arrat gave her a sympathetic smile. "I can take your testimony and deliver it to Control, but that incident is not why he will not be commander again."

"You mean the bomb?" Tierney scoffed. "Come on. There's no way that was him. Even MI5 concluded it was planted by the Director General herself. Her social media posts and personal correspondence were packed with anti-Relican propaganda. She just wanted to frame you guys in hopes of keeping humans from going along with the plan."

"Correct, and I am pleased that her actions appear to have backfired. We have already conveyed twenty million of your people to their communities on the cart, and the process is going smoothly. Surprisingly, Minister Zhou has become one of our strongest advocates. But still, that is not what I am referring to."

The Relican's unflappable patience was wearing on Tierney's nerves. It had been a week since the incident on the cart, and Tierney had held her tongue that whole time, hoping that Commander Arrat would volunteer news about the commander's -- Tausson's -- status. Now that she'd finally broken down and asked, she wanted an answer.

"What then?"

Commander Arrat pressed her lips together. Having worked with the Relican woman for several days, Tierney had come to see other differences between the males and females of her kind. Not only was Commander Arrat's skin black as charcoal and her voice slightly higher, she was broader. Tausson's chest was wide and muscular, but it tapered as a human man's would, into a thinner, flat stomach. Commander Arrat's middle was the same width as her chest -- which, though as muscular and defined as Tausson's, did have discernible, if small, breasts.

If Relican women were built so similarly to men, why was Tausson interested in her as a mate? If he could choose his Asteroid Mate, why wouldn't he go with a female body builder, or someone more like the women of his own species? Usually, when work wasn't so crazy, Tierney exercised in the White House gym in the evenings, but she was nowhere near as muscular as the woman sitting before her.

"Tausson has not mentioned Yarkinda to you?"

Commander Arrat's question brought Tierney back to their conversation. She searched her memory of her time with Tausson, and couldn't come up with anything.

"No, never."

The commander's eyes, though the only patches of white against her black skin, darkened. "Yarkinda was Tausson's most recent first contact. The Yarkin were afraid of the Relicans, as your people are. Tausson tried to give them time, to allow them to ease into the realization that they were endangered, and that we were there to help."

Commander Arrat's dour expression made it clear that this story didn't have a happy ending. Even though Tierney didn't want to hear any more bad news, she let the commander continue, knowing she was getting a critical glimpse into Tausson's past.

"By the time the Yarkin confirmed the existence and trajectory of the asteroid, it was too late. Thousands more than could fit flooded the conveyance zones, and the Squad was forced to hold them back so that some might be saved. Many Relicans were attacked, and some even died."

The commander turned stern eyes on Tierney. "Because of their own doubt and fear, only one-third of the Yarkin people were conveyed. Millions died, needlessly."

The fact that humanity could meet this same fate made the already burdensome yolk on Tierney's shoulders feel even heavier.

"So that's why Tausson was so blunt and harsh when he first arrived?" she asked.

Commander Arrat nodded.

"How long ago was this?" asked Tierney.

"Almost one year. Tausson was granted a leave of absence, but when the asteroid heading to Earth was discovered, he requested command, and Control was eager to approve."

Although Tierney sensed there was more of a story here, she left it alone. As much as she wanted to understand Tausson, she wanted to save her people more. She clicked on the website that the White House IT had created for all of the conveyance zone monitors to track the progress, and saw that everything was on schedule.

"Well, the evacuation of our country is making solid headway," she said. "The Vice President is already on board, as well as local leaders, and the President and I are scheduled to join the final batch the morning before collision. When's the latest you can stay until?"

"The cart must be approximately half a million miles from Earth when the asteroid enters this sector of your galaxy. Although it's unlikely, there is a small possibility that the cart could attract the asteroid because of its size."

"Then all of this would have been for nothing." Tierney closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples.

"Correct. The cart must be towed at a speed of no more than 100,000 miles per hour, so the latest we can begin the journey to Lota is five hours before collision."

Tierney clicked on the site to double-check the time of their conveyance. "And we're scheduled to leave eight hours before collision. That doesn't leave much room for error."

"Indeed."

* * *

Tausson paced the halls of the Irral, feeling like an andat prowling its cage.

He couldn't stop thinking about Tierney. Had Jonas been telling the truth? Had Tierney been hiding her true self from him the whole time?Because he'd had nothing better to do for the past two weeks since he'd become a prisoner on his own ship, Tausson had done more research into human relationships and found that many didn't end amicably. Perhaps Jonas was simply behaving as -- what had they called it? -- a spurned lover. Yet, he had been frighteningly accurate in his prediction that the two women would seek solitude.

For the hundredth time, Tausson wished he could have made it to that dwelling, to see for himself if the accusation was correct.

He passed the free room and paused, placing his hand on the hatch, remembering when Tierney had been there. She'd been so frightened by the weightlessness. He'd wanted to hold her, comfort her. In all the hours he'd spent with her since then, why hadn't he ever asked her why she was so scared? He slammed his fist against the hatch, welcoming the pain it brought -- at least that made sense, at least the pain in his hand could hide the pain in his soul, for a few moments, anyway.

Continuing down the hall, he saw Chief Raleth and Rasmus down a side corridor, speaking in hushed conversation. They looked up and both scowled at him, though the Chief's was simply his default annoyance -- Rasmus's was loathing.

"I trust you're managing to stay out of trouble," said the Chief, walking over to him, with Rasmus close behind.

Tausson flexed his still smarting hand. "Squad. How is the evacuation progressing?" Not that he had any right to know, but he could at least hope for an answer.

The Chief must have been feeling generous, because he said, "On schedule, although these humans are a surly bunch. Two weeks of nothing but squabbles -- over every little thing! This one wants that dwelling, that one brought more than the allotted personal belongings, they want more nutrient rations." He rubbed his stubbly bronze chin. "It's a wonder they survived this long."

That reminded Tausson of a question that had been nagging him since they arrived. "Why were the humans selected for relocation in the first place? They're the least advanced species I've encountered during my tenure with the Squad. They have no central government, they have a currency-based economy, their technology is laughable."

"They were deemed sufficiently advanced," snapped the Chief, pushing past Tausson, "and that's all you need to know."

Tausson turned to go in the opposite direction, but Rasmus, his bronze skin glimmering in the hall lights, blocked his way.

"I've been wanting to thank you," he said with a mean smile.

"You're welcome," said Tausson, trying to move past. Whatever trap his former Third was laying for him, he wasn't going to get caught.

Rasmus moved with him, preventing his escape. Tausson could have forced his way through, but laying hands on another could be interpreted as an invitation to spar, and he had a feeling that was exactly what Rasmus wanted.

"With you out of the picture," said Rasmus, "and Carterra about to return to Relica for birthing, I will become Commander of the Irral."

Tausson had come to the same conclusion a few days ago. While he pitied those who would be under Rasmus's command, there was nothing he could do about it. He had made up his mind to resign from the Squad anyway. He hoped to find peace back on Relica.

"I hope you'll prove worthy of her," he said. "She's a fine vessel." Once again he tried to pass, and once again he was forced to remain.

"When I'm commander, I'll get to choose my own Asteroid Mate." Rasmus moved to hardly an inch away from Tausson. "And you know who I'm going to pick?"

"I feel sorry for her already."

Rasmus closed his eyes, then bit his lip, rocking his hips as if breeding. Bronzes were known for their overly libidinous natures -- their frenzy never truly ended. Back on Relica it was more manageable, with daily pairings, and placing them with a new pair as soon as their current mate was gestating, rather than letting the cycle run its course. Rasmus had been assigned to the Irral with a mate, but she had begun gestating earlier than anticipated, and sent back to Relica. A replacement hadn't yet been sent, and Tausson was certain that the bronze pleasured himself daily with hardly a thought to the shameful nature of the act.

Rasmus bumped his shield against Tausson a few times before opening his eyes and saying, "You know that dainty, delicate-looking female you spent so much time with?"

Tausson's entire body went stiff. How could Rasmus know that he had asked Tierney? Or was it just coincidence? Was he simply rubbing it in Tausson's face that he could no longer choose an Asteroid Mate?

"Oh yeah," said the bronze, now squeezing himself through his shield. "I look forward to that. And I'm not like you quick dip silvers -- I take my time with my pairings." He closed his eyes again, and Tausson had to close his own to try and think of something else, anything, to keep from punching Rasmus in the face. But then Rasmus opened his mouth again.

"I like to feel around a bit," he said. "What the monitors can't see under the pairing cloaks can't hurt 'em, and when the females get into it it gets even better. I hope that rooter of yours has the stamina --"

Before he knew what he was doing, Tausson slammed Rasmus against the wall, his arm pressed against his throat. "I swear I'll tear off any body part of yours that touches Tierney."

By the shocked yet pleased look in Rasmus's eyes, Tausson knew he'd made the wrong move. He'd fallen into his trap. Jumping back, Tausson held up his hands, but it was too late.

"A spar, then!" Rasmus shouted, shoving Tausson back against the wall.

"It has to wait until after evacuation," said Tausson, furious that he'd lost his cool.

With narrowed eyes, Rasmus nodded, saying, "When the last human is on board." After one last spiteful grin, he left Tausson alone with his thoughts.

Why did I react that way? Why do I even care?

For Relicans, mating was nothing more than another task they had to perform. There were no monogamous mates, like there were on Earth. You paired with whoever you were assigned, knowing full well that your mate had likely already paired with many others, and would continue to mate with multiple partners after your cycle ended.

So why was Tierney different? Because she was human? Tausson had paired with other Asteroid Mates and never felt the way that he did now.

Tausson began walking back to his lodge, trying to make sense of his feelings. In his research into human relationships, he'd come across the word love many times. For Relicans, love was reserved for close friends, or love of their fellow Relicans in a broad, general sense. There was no such thing as romantic love for his people, but for humans "finding love" was the defining event in their lives, sealed by a vow that nothing would part them but death. Is that what Tierney wanted?

But there were many, many failed romantic relationships among humans, including breaking that same vow of eternal union. So if that was what she was hoping for, it didn't seem to work all that well either.

Tausson stopped, realization falling upon him like a collapsing silver mine.

Tierney was right. She wanted more than what he could offer her -- and so did he.

He didn't want to just see her by chance in the hall or once a day for pairing. He didn't want to leave her and their unborn offspring. He wanted to be with her all the time, to learn about her and hear her throaty laugh. He wanted to discover why she was afraid of the free room, and why she never slept at home.

He wasn't certain if the human way was the right path or not, but he did know that being his Asteroid Mate wasn't enough.

But what did she want? Did she want him? Or did she want the President?

As he tried to figure out how to get answers to his questions, the alarm sounded above him. Instinctively he ran to the command center. He might not be commander anymore, but he was still Squad. If he could help, he would.

Slamming open the hatch, he saw Carterra speaking on the sightscreen to Chief Raleth, who must have already conveyed back to his vessel. She spun around to see who had entered, and though she paused for a split second upon seeing him, she turned back to the sightscreen.

"You're certain of the timeframe?" asked the Chief. "We can't afford to be wrong a second time."

"I had Elic confirm it," said Carterra. "It's certain."

Tausson wanted to ask what was going on, but knew drawing attention to himself was a bad idea as long as the Chief was on screen.

"We'll have to increase the number of humans per conveyance," said the Chief.

Elic, her face tight with worry, said, "But ten thousand is the recommended maximum for mass conveyances. Any added stress to the vessels could endanger the humans."

"I'm aware of the risks, Officer," the Chief barked. Tausson felt sorry for his former Planetary Officer, but it wasn't his job to defend her anymore.

It was Carterra's. "She's right, Chief," said the commander. "We could lose as many as we hope to save."

"I'll take possible death over certain death any day. I'll inform each commander to increase to a minimum of 12,000, or more, depending on the capacity of their vessel."

"Twelve thousand!" Elic gasped.

Tausson still didn't know what the emergency was that was causing all of this, but what the Chief was ordering was unheard of. Yes, the Relican Squad wanted to save as many of each species as possible, and they all understood the inherent risks involved in that mission. But the lives of Relicans always came first. Placing such a strain on their vessels endangered not only the humans being conveyed, but the Relicans operating the transports. Why was the Chief so intent on saving a race that barely qualified for relocation?

"In addition," Chief Raleth continued, "we'll send every available Squad member to the planet to perform site to site conveyances for two humans at a time. Make sure those on the cart are prepared for the influx."

Carterra didn't respond. Tausson could see her weighing the risks, searching for safer alternatives.

"Do you acknowledge, Commander?" snapped Chief Raleth "Or must I relieve you of duty as well?"

The insult was directed at Carterra, but it was Tausson who responded. "You're not just risking the humans, but Relican lives as well. All this for some backwards race that still places greed over the wellbeing of its own people?"

"Stand down, Tausson," Carterra ordered, shooting him an angry look. Turning back to the sightscreen, she said, "Squad, Chief."

She nodded at the Communications Officer to sever the link. As the screen went black, she strode over to him.

"Carterra, this is a mistake --" Tausson began, but she cut him off.

"You are no longer commander of this vessel," she said in a sharp whisper. "You have no right to be in the command center, nor is it your place to question the orders of the Chief. Squad?"

Tausson's anger shriveled under her glare. She was right. He had meant to defend her, but instead had insulted her ability to command and speak for herself.

Lowering his eyes, he said, "Squad, Commander. I ask for pardon."

"Granted. Your conveyance and communication privileges are returned as well."

Although he was glad to hear that, the fact that he was being reinstated to even some degree before his conduct review by Control meant that not a body could be spared in whatever crisis was occurring.

"Can you tell me what this is about?" he asked. Meeting her gaze again, he saw the fear returning to her eyes.

"The humans have corrected a flaw in our calculation regarding the asteroid's trajectory."

"What? The humans?" It was almost inconceivable, with their limited knowledge and technology, that they could even identify a formula error, let alone correct it. "What does that mean?"

"The asteroid won't impact in twelve days, as we had calculated." His mate and former First placed her hands on her stomach, where their offspring was almost done growing. She looked at him and whispered, as if not wanting their child to hear, "It will collide in eight days."