On the deck on her back, Tala lifted her hands to protect her face and neck from the massive alien, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. And there wasn’t room to get up or roll away. The Zi’i pinned her chest down with one massive paw, a disturbingly hand-like paw with clawed fingers that curled to grip her. The creature’s fanged maw lowered and opened, leering closer and closer.

Something struck the alien from the side, and Tala glimpsed black armor. One of the Star Guardians.

“Nobody gets the captain’s woman,” the man yelled, and with a whoop that might have been a war cry, he climbed atop the alien’s broad back. His arms snaked around the thick neck, and he squeezed.

The Zi’i reared up, clawing behind it in an attempt to get the man. But the Star Guardian held on tight, like he was riding a bucking bronco in a rodeo.

Tala took advantage of the moment and rolled to her hands and knees. There wasn’t time to wonder when the Star Guardians had started to think of her as “the captain’s woman.” Not now.

She scrambled for the relative safety of her office as weapons fired behind her. Energy bolts slammed into the side of the Zi’i as the Star Guardian did his best to choke the alien through all that thick muscle.

Juanita appeared out of the chaos and helped Tala to her feet. They ducked behind someone firing as relentlessly as the Star Guardians. Katie. She was like a mad woman pouring energy bolts into the creature.

With a hint of relief, Tala saw that it was the last one in sickbay. Another one lay dead or unconscious on the deck, and the other two must have been driven back into the corridor.

“Where’d Orion go?” Juanita asked, gripping Tala’s arm.

“To make sure that robot got where it was going,” Tala said, still leery about saying too much when the Zi’i could hear. What if some of the ones in the corridor had chased after Orion and the robot?

“What’s it doing?”

Tala shook her head.

“The robot has reached the access panel,” Eridanus said, his voice barely audible over the shouts and cries in sickbay. “A Zi’i is attempting to stop it. Orion is battling it to protect the robot, but there isn’t time to delay. Shall I have it pour the substance into the ventilation ducts, heat it, and turn it into a gas for distribution?”

“Does Orion need help?” Juanita asked.

Tala’s eyes locked onto the still-open sickbay door. If the gas started now, they would all be knocked out right alongside the Zi’i. Or, if the dosage was too high, they could be killed.

“Close that door first, Eridanus,” she ordered.

“I have attempted to do so, but it is damaged.”

“Shit.” Tala pulled away from Juanita and risked picking her way past the battle to reach it.

“Orion is struggling to keep the Zi’i from getting to the robot,” Eridanus informed her with irritating calm. “He may be defeated soon.”

“What?” Juanita cried.

“Tell the robot to compete its task,” Tala said. There was little choice. “And then tell Orion to run back here as fast as he can.”

She reached the door, hoping Eridanus had heard her. He did not reply.

Tala slapped the panel in the spot that usually opened and closed the door. It didn’t budge. Damn it, they were all going to get knocked out. She still wore the mask, but it was only a filter, and she doubted it would protect her fully. Besides, even if it did, nobody else had a mask. There hadn’t been more than a couple in the cabinet.

She tugged and pushed at the door, trying to force it shut as energy bolts sizzled past in the corridor. The Star Guardians out there were clearly busy.

When the door didn’t budge, she looked behind her, hoping to spot the man who had helped her escape the alien.

“He’s dead,” someone cried triumphantly as the Zi’i that had nearly eaten her collapsed to the deck.

“I need this door closed now,” Tala yelled over the victory whoops. “Or we could all be dead.”

Technically, the people in combat armor would be fine, but the melodramatic warning worked, cutting through the rest of the noise in sickbay. Two armored men turned toward her, one springing over a Zi’i body—and the unmoving body of one of the women—to reach her. Tala stared at the woman, not sure if she was dead or unconscious. She wasn’t the only person who’d fallen in sickbay.

Tala would have to grab her medical kit and start to work right away.

“No rest for the weary,” she whispered as the Star Guardian, with the armor enhancing his strength, tugged at the door.

It squealed and groaned as it closed inch by inch.

“Wait,” Juanita yelled, lunging for the door. “What’s going to happen out there? Orion is still out there.” She looked at Tala.

“He…” Tala didn’t want to say that he’d sacrificed himself—the poor man hadn’t even known what he was getting into.

“There he is,” the Star Guardian at the door said, pausing. It wasn’t quite closed all the way.

He stepped aside and tugged it back open. Orion turned sideways, his face contorted with pain as he stumbled into sickbay, his hand grasping at his bloody abdomen. Tala stared, horrified. It was more than bloody. He’d been cut open, and his entrails were hanging out, with only his hand holding the rest of them in.

As soon as he made it inside, he tumbled to the deck.

Juanita screamed his name and flung herself down next to him.

The Star Guardian got the door shut, but Tala feared it might be too late for Orion.

Nevertheless, she ordered, “Help me get him onto one of the beds.”

Juanita looked up at her with hope in her eyes. Tala didn’t reassure her, not when she had no idea if she could save Orion.

It took Sage longer to get back to the airlock and his own ship than he anticipated. Even though Hierax and Mikolos had made it to the bridge, appearing none the worse for wear, he encountered his men in other spots, battling the Zi’i crew. Though Sage wanted nothing more than to check on Tala and the others, he had to trust that the men he’d left behind were qualified to do the job. His people here had a daunting challenge, facing off against the nearly one hundred Zi’i crew members aboard, so Sage jumped in whenever he came upon Star Guardians in battle.

Fortunately, Hierax’s bombs had delivered devastating damage to the surprised Zi’i. Some were simple explosives, but others flung acid that ate through alien fur—and the ship’s bulkheads. He’d started a lot of fires on the way to the bridge.

Sage wielded his only weapon, the death launcher, and re-collected the spears every time, until he got ahold of a bolt bow. Then he ran through the corridors with a weapon in each hand, feeling like one of Orion’s comic book heroes—or maybe one of the megalomaniacal villains.

“Good to see you, sir,” Ensign Hammer said. He was guarding the airlock with Ensign Bystrom, keeping the Zi’i from sending reinforcements over to the fire falcon.

“Good to be seen by someone without fur,” Sage said.

“Without fur, sir? Have you seen Bystrom's hair?”

“My hair isn’t furry,” Bystrom said.

“It’s green and sticks up in clumps. What would you call it?”

“Perky.”

As Sage jogged for the airlock, trusting that those two didn’t need help, the comm built into his armor chimed.

“Sir,” Hierax said, “we’re going to need Lieutenant Coric over here to decipher the controls. The Zi’i were inconsiderate and labeled everything in grunts and growls.”

“I thought you’d memorized the schematics to every ship in the galaxy and didn’t need to read labels.”

“I’ve memorized the schematics to over three hundred ships, but not the most recent grunty-growly ones.”

“That seems short-sighted.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t expecting to battle Zi’i warships as a Star Guardian. I’m quite positive the job description mentioned dealing with smugglers, thieves, and pirates.”

“And all threats to humanity,” Sage said, quoting the end of the oath they had all taken. “I suggest you rectify the hole in your knowledge.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll patch it up with some gum as soon as possible. But Lieutenant Coric?”

“I’ll send her over as soon as I can,” Sage said as he jogged into the cargo hold of his own ship, his weapons ready in case enemies jumped out. But it didn’t look like the Zi’i invaders had tried to retreat yet. He didn’t find that particularly promising.

“You want us to find the controls to release the Falcon, sir?” Hierax asked.

“Absolutely not.”

“Er, all right.”

“Those seven Zi’i war ships are still out there, along with the Scyllans. As long as everyone thinks we’re still Grsh’s prisoners, we’re safe.” Sage ran through the familiar corridors of his ship, appreciating their brightness after the gloomy passages of the Zi’i vessel, and headed for the bridge. He ached to veer toward sickbay, but he needed to make sure Zakota and Korta had everything in hand up there, as well as seeing if Coric wanted an escort to the other ship. With Zi’i warriors roaming the corridors, his people shouldn’t be walking about alone.

“I understand, sir, but we can’t fly through the gate while attached by an umbilical cord.”

“We won’t.” Sage switched channels. “Bridge, report.”

He frowned as he came to an obstacle, one of the blast doors down, effectively cutting off the corridor. It wasn’t surprising to find some of the doors down—blocking intruders during a forced boarding was their purpose, after all. It was surprising to find them down without any enemies banging at them. If they’d been lowered to halt the Zi’i incursion, the aliens should have been stuck on this side of them.

“Just sitting up here whittling a new talisman, sir,” Zakota said. Despite the drawl, he sounded breathless, as if he’d been running. Or fighting. “I’m thinking of asking for the gods’ help in creating an anti-Zi’i one. It could repel all evil throughout the galaxy. Especially evil with stinky rotten vegetable breath.”

“Is Coric with you?”

“Yes, sir. Shall I take your lack of interest as a sign that you won’t be ordering an anti-alien-evil talisman?”

“I’m still waiting for the last one. Tell Coric I’m coming to get her and take her over to the Zi’i warship.”

“Doesn’t sound like an appealing date, Captain.”

“Her date is with Hierax.” Sage took off his gauntlet so he could press his thumbprint to the wall panel and override the door.

“That sounds even less appealing. What’s he going to do? Read her technical manuals?”

“Eridanus,” Sage said when the override controls didn’t work. “Why are the blast doors down?”

“I am measuring the parts per million of the toxic gas present in the corridors on the other side to see if it’s safe for humans yet, Captain,” the AI said.

“Of the toxic what? Will it go through my helmet?”

“No.”

“Then let me in.” Sage put his gauntlet back on so his suit would be fully self-contained and protected from exterior contaminants.

“Yes, Captain. It does appear that all the Zi’i are incapacitated.”

Sage wasn’t sure what the gas was or had to do with that, but it sounded like good news.

The door opened, and he raced to the bridge, passing a couple of dead Zi’i on the way. There was a whole pile of them in front of the blast door that led to the bridge. That door had suffered the expected gouges of Zi’i trying to force their way in. Sage couldn’t tell why these Zi’i were down, but they appeared to be… snoring?

“What does the gas do, Eridanus?” Sage asked, starting to get an inkling.

He hit the control panel. This time, the blast door rose for him.

“It is a neurotoxin that acts on the Zi’i brain chemistry. It is also harmful to humans, so everyone onboard has been instructed to either stay in rooms with the ventilation blocked or stay in their combat armor.”

“Instructed by whom?”

“Dr. Tala. She was the one who came up with the idea of sedating the Zi’i.”

“Really,” Sage said, the word coming out as a pleased purr.

More than ever, he wanted to run down to sickbay to check on her, but he hopped over the slumbering Zi’i and strode for the bridge door. It opened, and he found Lieutenant Coric in her armor waiting for him, with weapons in her hands. Korta and Zakota were at their stations, weapons leaning next to them. Nobody was whittling.

“I can make it there on my own, sir,” Coric said. “You had better go to sickbay.”

“Why?” Sage asked, dread dropping into his gut like a boulder.

“Your brother was injured.”

“I see. Thank you.” Sage made himself stay for the thirty seconds it took to leave orders that would get his ship out of their predicament. He hoped. “Zakota, stay in touch with Hierax and Asan, and prepare both ships to head for the 205 gate. We’ll want to slip away as soon as possible, but for now, we need to make it look like the Zi’i warship is taking us prisoner. Coric, you may need to take the comm over there and fake a message to the other ships.”

“I can understand their growls without trouble, but emulating them is another matter, sir.”

“I know. Do your best.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Comm me if you need anything, Zakota,” Sage called as he turned to run back through the ship to sickbay.

“Just your order of an anti-alien-evil talisman, sir. You’ll be upset if you’re the only one on the ship without one.”

Already leaping into a ladder well to skim down the rungs to the level below, Sage didn’t answer.

He almost tripped over a sleeping Zi’i at the bottom. No, that one was dead, en-bolt scorch marks all over his face and chest.

Sage had to maneuver around several other Zi’i, some unconscious and some dead, as he ran to sickbay. Blood spattered the metal deck and white walls in places.

Outside the door to sickbay, Sage found four of the armored Star Guardians he’d left to defend the women. They were leaning against the walls, looking utterly weary, but they straightened and saluted when they spotted him.

“Where’s Nox?” he asked, doing a quick count.

“Inside, sir. He was injured.” Ensign Lysan pointed toward the door, the very battered, scraped, and dented door to sickbay. It looked like it had been forced open and then yanked shut again. “I’m not sure if you’re supposed to open that yet though. There was some gas…” The ensign pointed at one of the aliens that wasn’t dead.

“I am venting the gas to space,” Eridanus chimed in. “The levels have currently lowered to limits acceptable to humans. The Zi’i will need to be dealt with before they start to wake up in approximately nine minutes.”

“Take care of that, Lysan,” Sage said, tapping the door controls. He wasn’t surprised when the door didn’t open. “You three, you’re with him.”

“Yes, sir. Do we, uh, put them in the brig?”

“I want them all off my ship.” Sage grabbed the door, intending to force it open, and considered what he did want done with the Zi’i. He was keeping their warship, at least until they got to the gate, to hide behind, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take it all the way home as a war prize—and as proof of what was going on in the Scyllan System. “Round up the injured and put them on a shuttle on their ship. Take the defeated ones over there too. We’ll launch it right before we go through the gate.”

“Yes, sir,” all four men said and trotted off to handle the task.

The sickbay door squealed as Sage opened it against its will.

Several faces turned toward him as he strode inside, including Miss Juanita and Miss Katie, both of whom pointed bolt bows in his direction. Tears streaked down Juanita’s face, and she lowered the weapon right away, returning her attention to the bed she stood beside.

Sage’s heart sank as he recognized the unconscious form on it, Orion. Tala was on the other side of the bed, along with one of the medical robots. An articulating surgical arm unfolded from the ceiling was also working on…

Sage swallowed. It looked like Orion’s intestines had been completely torn out. Tala’s face was tense with concentration as she and the robots sterilized and repaired. An oxygen aid stuck out of Orion’s nostrils, and IVs ran to his veins.

The other beds were filled, and another robot was inserting nanobots into the patient next to Orion—Ensign Nox. Injured women occupied the remaining beds and the exam table. The other women sat against the walls and in Tala’s office.

As Sage walked toward his brother, he spotted a dead Zi’i in the corner. One of the svenkars, the female Miss Angela favored, he assumed, lay nearby licking her wounds.

Judging by the shredded bed sheets, blood on the deck, and battered cabinet doors, a great deal of fighting had gone on in here. Later, Sage would have words with his men for allowing that to happen, but now, all he could do was go stand beside Juanita to look down at his brother.

Tala was so focused that she didn’t seem to see him. Sage didn’t speak, not wanting to distract her, but he was relieved she appeared uninjured. Later, he would find out more about the gas and thank her for helping his people once again. He owed her a thank you and an apology.

He removed his gauntlet and rested his hand on Orion’s leg. A lump formed in his throat as he once again imagined having to tell Mom that he’d lost his baby brother.

“He saved us,” Juanita said. Her hand rested on Orion’s shoulder, but she looked at Sage, tears brimming in her eyes. “More than once. When they came in, he fought them off. And then he protected the robot that went out to gas the Zi’i. He risked his life to make sure the gas got distributed.” Juanita blinked, and some of the tears in her eyes trickled down her cheeks, but she didn’t look away from Sage. She held his eyes with a determined expression. “He’s a hero.”

She said it like a challenge, almost defying him to disagree.

Once, perhaps he would have, but he hadn’t understood Orion’s choice to become a bounty hunter back then. He’d assumed it was about making money and snubbing the law. It hadn’t occurred to him that the young man who’d been repeatedly disciplined while in the fleet and then kicked out of it might actually care about helping people.

“Yes,” he said in simple agreement.

Seeming satisfied, Juanita turned back to Orion.

Orion’s head turned to the side at the sound of Sage’s voice.

Sage grimaced. He hadn’t expected his brother to be awake, not with wounds like that. He looked at Tala.

“He wouldn’t let us anesthetize him while enemies remained on the ship,” Tala said, somehow guessing his question without looking up.

Sage hadn’t realized she knew he was there.

“Last time,” Orion whispered weakly, looking at Sage.

“What?” Sage leaned forward.

“Last time I leave my ship… without my armor.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you say that since only soldiers and law enforcers are legally allowed to have armor.”

“I’m a rebel, Sage.”

“Clearly.” Sage patted his leg lightly, not wanting to do anything that might discomfort him. “If you’re going to stay on my ship and keep mooching meals, we’ll have to find you a temporary set of armor. Or a permanent one.” He thought of the job offer Orion had been sent right before they left Dethocoles, an invitation to join the Star Guardians and train under Sage.

That had been before Sage disobeyed orders and took the Falcon 8 on this private mission. He wasn’t sure if Orion would survive this surgery, but Sage vowed to try to make sure his brother still had the opportunity to become a Star Guardian, even if he himself was kicked out of the service.

“Someone cut up your head,” Orion observed, then smiled, as if seeing Sage injured was delightful.

Maybe he wanted someone he could commiserate with. Or maybe he liked seeing signs that Sage had screwed up. Sage knew his success had sometimes made his little brother bitter, perhaps because such success had eluded him. Sage didn’t blame him for feeling that way. There had been times in his life when he’d felt like the gods were watching out for him, and he was never sure what he’d done to deserve that.

He liked to think he was brilliant, but these last few days certainly seemed a testament to the contrary. He was probably just lucky. But he wouldn’t reject luck. One of his old commanders had often said being lucky was just as valid a way to win as being good.

Sage hoped his luck would last a little longer, so they could escape this system. And so Orion would pull through.

“I thought fighting Zi’i without a helmet would be a good idea,” Sage said, realizing Orion seemed to expect an answer.

“Sounds dumb.”

“It was.”

“I didn’t think you could do anything dumb,” Orion said.

For the first time, Tala looked up, quirking a single eyebrow at Sage. Or perhaps at the comment. She, no doubt, disagreed with it.

“My superiors discourage it, but sometimes dumbness outs itself.”

“Very poetical.”

“I strive to be quotable. The journalists appreciate it.”

Orion winced, whether at the comment or at having his innards probed, Sage didn’t know. But he looked at Tala and said, “Why don’t you knock him out, Doctor? The Zi’i all seem to be unconscious.”

Tala looked toward Orion.

“Hells, go ahead,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “It’s not like my brother is a good enough conversationalist that I’d be distressed to miss him talking.”

“The love you two are expressing for each other is the warm fuzzy stuff of greeting cards and Hallmark movies,” Tala said, shifting a step so she could slip something anesthetizing into Orion’s IV.

“Not sure what she’s talking about,” Orion said, “but I think she’s insulting us, Sage.”

“We probably deserve it.”

“I know you do.”

Juanita and Tala looked at each other and rolled their eyes in unison.

“I’m glad you didn’t die over there, Sage,” Orion said, his eyelids starting to droop. “There was… something I meant to tell you.”

“What?”

“If things work out… somehow… I’d like to train with you. Become a Star Guardian.”

Juanita’s eyebrows drifted upward, but she didn’t say anything.

Sage squeezed his brother’s leg again. “Believe it or not, I’d like to have you train with us—with me. And I’d like to see you become a Star Guardian.”

“Huh. I should probably live then.”

“It does seem advisable.”

Sage’s comm beeped.

“Sir?” Hierax asked. “The other Zi’i ships are getting uppity and comming here a lot. Coric made it over here, and she’s trying to imply that we’re having a communications problem and can’t respond, except in text, which she’s supplying, but I’m not sure they’re buying it.”

“Have all the Zi’i been contained in a shuttle?” Sage asked.

“Three shuttles, and we’re working on it.”

“Good. Lay in a course for the gate home. We’ll take both ships and hope we can fool them a little longer into believing the Falcon 8 was taken prisoner by—what was the name of that ship? The Star Stalker?”

“Something grunty.”

“I think it’s a very good thing that you called Lieutenant Coric over,” Sage observed.

“Got no doubt about that. I know my limitations.”

“Just make sure Asan gets that ship flying. I’ll be on the bridge in a minute to ensure Zakota does the same.”

“Yes, sir,” Hierax said. “You might want to make it fast, sir.”

“I’ll make sure Zakota keeps his talisman rubbing to a minimum.”

“Did that sound dirty to anyone else?” Orion mumbled, the words slurred, his eyes closed now.

“No,” Sage said, as Juanita said, “Yes.”

Sage looked at her, glad to see the tears had dried. Maybe Orion’s banter had convinced her that he would pull through. Sage certainly hoped he would. For more reasons than not wanting to disappoint Mom.

“I need to get to the bridge,” Sage told the women. “But I’m glad you all seem to have survived the Zi’i.” He paused at the doorway. He hadn’t wanted to interrupt Tala, but he also felt he should say something specific to her, to let her know that he cared, that he’d worried about her, and that he was tickled that she’d helped with the Zi’i.

She turned her head and caught him looking at her. “If my patient cooperates and lives, I’ll be coming for my apology later.”

Juanita looked curiously at her.

“It’s yours whenever you want it,” Sage said softly, though she looked weary, like she needed a nap more than sexual adventures. He probably did too. He vowed to take it, as soon as his people were safe.

His comm beeped.

“Coming, Zakota,” he said and left.