Juanita’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she was afraid she wouldn’t hear the slaver speak. If he spoke.

He towered over her in gray armor, the dark, shiny faceplate impossible to see through, and his gauntleted hand wrapped around her arm. The grip was like a vise, and she knew right away, there would be no pulling away from him.

But she didn’t want to pull away. This had been her plan. Her ridiculous, ill-thought-out, spur-of-the-moment plan.

“Thank God,” she said, trying to appear relieved as she gazed into that expressionless faceplate. “Can you help me? We got away, but they’re all over out here, looking for us.”

“Huh?”

The inarticulate syllable gave her hope. Maybe she wasn’t dealing with a mental giant here. Or maybe her appearance had just flummoxed the slavers.

Or maybe, she realized with an abrupt thought, he didn’t have a translation chip. She’d assumed they would be ubiquitous among the humans of the galaxy, at least those who traveled, but maybe not.

The other three men set down the oblong metal object Orion thought was a bomb, and they came over, crowding around, as if to examine her like some strange scientific specimen.

“My friends and I.” Juanita flung her arm toward the woods, back in the direction she’d come from with the Star Guardians, and hoped at least one of them would understand. “The women that were kidnapped just a couple of days ago. Slavers took us. And then some people claiming to be Star Guardians took us from them, but we didn’t believe them. Real Star Guardians wouldn’t want slaves, would they?” She hoped not only that these men understood, but that they wouldn’t think to wonder how girls from “Gaia” who knew nothing about the galaxy would know all about Star Guardians. “We figured they were slavers, too, so we ran away as soon as they were distracted. And you…” She waved to their armored forms. “Are you Star Guardians? I heard they wear armor…”

“She thinks we’re Star Guardians?” a man in the back whispered, the words barely audible.

Good, they did understand.

Juanita kept gazing up at the one holding her and pretended not to hear.

“Of course we’re Star Guardians,” another one said firmly, coming up to stand by the one gripping her arm. “You said the rest of the kidnapped slav—er, hapless victims are out here?”

“Yes. Do you want me to take you to them? Can you help us get out of this awful swamp? Do you have a ship?”

“We would love to help you,” the man purred. “That’s what Star Guardians do.”

The one in the back snickered. The man next to him elbowed him. Juanita doubted the gesture was that effective when they were both in armor, but she pretended not to notice the byplay.

“Yes,” the speaker in the front said. “Lead us to them. We’ll take you to our ship, our Star Guardian ship, and make sure you’re safe. We’ll get you back home right away.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Juanita gushed, gripping his arm. If she were better at flirting, she would have batted her lashes and leaned her boobs against him. Not that he could feel boobs through that hard, cold armor.

“Our group is hiding over this way. I was supposed to go out and find someone to help. I can’t believe my luck coming across real Star Guardians out here.”

The one holding her released her and gestured for her to lead the way.

But one of the others cleared his throat. “We have another mission here, Jalk.”

“Stay with the bomb. Me, Jon, and Xavie will get the women.”

“The captain may want us to deploy it soon.”

“Then you can call over some others to help. Look, Darukor. We’re here to get the slaves—the poor victims. And any other victims that we can help in this part of the galaxy. Dealing with the… enemies is just a secondary perk.”

“The bounties on our enemies’ heads make them a pretty primary perk, I say.”

“We’ll get the women and then come right back and help out.” The one in the lead strode after Juanita, waving for her to continue on through the trees.

She did so, and was glad when two more of the men followed. She had hoped to lead all four away from the bomb, but hadn’t truly expected that to happen. Orion would have to figure out a way to deal with the last one. She would keep the others busy for long enough for him to do so. She hoped.

“Oomph,” she blurted as her toe caught on a root.

She stumbled several steps, her foot landing in mud. She yanked it out before she could sink in too deeply, but she still almost lost her shoe. Her “trail running” shoes had held up well thus far, and weren’t the worst thing she could have been kidnapped in, but true hiking boots would have been better for this planet.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s dark out here. Anyone have a light?”

One of the men grumbled something, but then a headlamp shot out of his helmet.

It made it much easier to see where she was going, but all the trees looked the same, and she wasn’t sure she could find the spot she had in mind, especially since it had been dark when they’d left it. All she remembered was that the lake had been off to one side.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going, woman?” one slaver asked.

“No,” she answered honestly. “But it hasn’t been long since I left them. The whole group is back here, and we weren’t far from the lake. We might hear them talking any minute.”

“How many are there?”

“Over forty.”

“Excellent,” someone breathed, and she could almost hear him calculating what his share of the slave-selling booty might be.

A leaf-strewn area ahead caught her eye, one where no trees grew. And then, to one side, stood the massive tree with a big knot on it at head height. That was the one she had leaned against with Orion.

A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and she squawked as she was brought up short.

“That’s far enough, woman. We got orders to get back to our load.”

“But what about the other women?” Juanita asked.

“We’ll get ’em later.”

The man pulled Juanita around, pushing her roughly back in the direction of the hill.

She groaned inwardly. She hadn’t given Orion enough time to do anything.

Orion crept down the back side of the hill, using it as cover so the remaining armored man wouldn’t see him. That might not be enough if the slaver was paying attention to his armor’s sensors, but he was leaning his hip against the bomb case and looking out toward the lake. A shout came from that direction, followed by several more shouts in rapid succession. And then the first weapons fired.

A boom sounded, and soon en-bolts streaked through the night out by the ship. They seemed to come from all sides and even from across the lake. Or in it. Was someone swimming across? Or using a hovercraft?

Orion hoped Sage knew what he was doing out there. Judging by the way things exploded from so many directions, there were hundreds of enemies to deal with.

The man next to the bomb straightened, a hand shifting to his weapon.

Orion aimed his bolt bow at him, but the slaver stood behind the cylindrical case. He needed to get closer before risking a shot.

But he couldn’t wait indefinitely. The man might call the others back, or he might receive orders to get that bomb out there at any second.

Orion picked up his pace, doing his best to approach the man’s back from an angle instead of straight behind. That armor would have rear cameras built into the helmet. It was dark, but with the moons out, the man could see movement.

Despite Orion’s best efforts to take care, the slaver seemed to sense something. He whirled around, lifting the z-bow attached to his armor with a sling. Orion fired first. His bolt bow blazed, lighting up the trees, and a blue en-bolt slammed into his target’s chest.

The man lurched back a step, but that was it. His cuirass absorbed the energy.

Anticipating return fire, Orion dove behind a copse of trees.

Red en-bolts zipped into trunks and branches, and leaves and shards of wood rained down atop him. Orion rolled between two stout trees and rose to his elbows.

The man was charging away from the bomb, realizing he wouldn’t want to use it for cover.

Good. Orion fired twice more, his accuracy unerring. The en-bolts slammed into the side of the man’s armor. He hoped they would find a seam.

But the man sprang behind a tree without faltering. He leaned out on the other side, returning fire.

Orion ducked and rolled back the way he’d come, hoping his enemy would anticipate him moving in the other direction, trying to work his way closer. Fortunately, the groundcover camouflaged his movements. He came up at the edge of the copse as blasts slammed into the hillside on the other side of the trees.

Only his foe’s weapon and arm were visible. Orion started to fire at the tree he hid behind, but then shifted his aim. His en-bolt slammed into the z-bow itself, blowing the weapon out of the man’s hands.

On his next shot, Orion hit the tree. The slaver bent over, probably pulling out another weapon, and he ignored the fact that the trunk was getting a battering and that shards of wood were slamming into him. He wouldn’t feel it through the armor.

Orion got an idea, and he lowered his aim, blasting across the trunk in a straight line. His mother, known for loving gardening, trees, and all things plant-related, wouldn’t be happy with him if she found out about this, but he kept firing.

The man produced another weapon and returned fire again.

This time, Orion was almost too slow in ducking. An en-bolt skimmed above his head so close that he felt the heat scorching his scalp through his hair. Clumps of earth and plants flew free, striking his back, and he wondered if his enemy had guessed what he’d been trying to do and meant to beat him to it. The slaver kept firing into the copse, and flames erupted from the trees.

The slaver’s tree was burning, too, but he paid it no heed, once again protected by his armor.

Not waiting for the smoke to clear, Orion scooted away from the copse, slithering on his belly like a snake. If the man’s sensors were working well, he might see through the grass Orion used for camouflage, but hopefully the fires burning in the trees would interfere with the heat detection.

The slaver kept shooting at those trees, spraying the area. No, he didn’t know exactly where Orion was. He was hoping to get lucky.

“You’re about to get flattened,” Orion whispered.

He reached a tree several meters from the others and rose to his knees behind it. This gave him another angle from which to fire. When he leaned out, he could see his enemy’s armored butt. He could also shoot at a different side of the tree trunk.

The slaver stopped shooting. His helmet swiveled left and right as he searched for sign of Orion in the smoke and fire. But he didn’t realize how fast Orion could move, even at a crawl, so he didn’t look far enough to his left.

Orion fired.

Even though he doubted it would do any good, he pegged the man’s armored ass with his first shot. At the least, he had the satisfaction of seeing the slaver jump.

Without hesitating, Orion unloaded into the tree. The man hunkered down behind it.

A great snap echoed through the woods, rising even over the sounds of hundreds of weapons firing down by the lake. The trunk leaned, slowly at first. The man noticed it was moving, and he jumped up. He skittered back, but his heel must have caught on a root. He flailed for balance.

Abruptly, gravity caught up with the tree. It slammed down in an instant.

The slaver tried to spring away, and with his armor’s help, he almost made it. But the falling tree caught his arm and shoulder, pinning him to the ground.

Orion raced to him, certain he would survive that—and that he might have some fight left in him.

Indeed, as Orion approached, the man patted around, trying to find the weapon he must have dropped.

Spotting it a few feet away, Orion kicked it into the woods. He pointed his bolt bow at the man’s faceplate. With enough shots, he could blow his way through that helmet and kill him. But the slaver wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything else, not while trapped under that tree. Sage would want prisoners to take home, not corpses. Orion had no doubt of that.

He left the man under the tree and sprang over it, running to the bomb. Disarm it, Juanita had said. He didn’t know if he had the expertise to do that, but he couldn’t disappoint her by failing.

As he reached it, light flashed through the trees, and a boom came from the lake. It wasn’t the kind of boom that would sound if this huge bomb blew, but lots of people were hurling grenades out there. Grenades could blow through a Star Guardian’s combat armor.

“Focus on your own problem,” he muttered, tapping his logostec to turn on a light.

It would make him stand out in the dark woods, but he couldn’t deactivate a bomb in the dark. He patted all around it, looking for a panel to open. He found legs that could unfold, creating a launching platform, and there were even fins that popped out of the back.

It was as much rocket as bomb, he realized. Maybe the slavers had intended to set it up pointing at the fire falcon, and once the women were pulled out, blow the ship to pieces. If so, that would disprove Sage’s hypothesis that they wanted to capture the Falcon 8 to sell or use for themselves. And it would do so in a fiery and spectacular way.

A roar came from the dark woods behind Orion, from the opposite direction of the lake. An engine firing up.

Soon, a ship flew over his head, its running lights brightening the woods below. Its helmsman wasn’t trying to be sneaky or hide the vessel’s approach. The ship flew straight for the lake. No, straight for the Falcon 8.

Two weapons ports under the nose of the slaver vessel flared a hot white as they prepared to fire.

Orion stared, his stomach sinking. Had the slavers given up on reacquiring the women? As long as the fire falcon was powered down, with its shields down, it would be helpless. The slaver ship could mangle it with one round of fire. Everyone inside, including all those women, would be slain. Everyone outside, including Orion, Juanita, and all the Star Guardians, would be stranded. Or worse, the slavers would capture them, strip them of weapons, and sell them to the Zi’i.