Treyjon walked into the cargo hold in the belly of the Falcon 8, swinging his arms experimentally and prodding his chest to make sure nothing hurt too much. The ship’s AI had proclaimed him fully healed and ready to leave sickbay. The Gaian doctor, Tala, had frowned at him and suggested a week’s bed rest. He did still feel tired, stiff, and sore, but he didn’t want to miss a chance to walk outside and feel the sun on his face. Dethocoles, with its millions of people in the capital, wasn’t anything like his home world, but it was still a chance to spread his arms and breathe air that hadn’t been recirculated through a ship’s filtration system.

An auto forklift trundled up the cargo ramp, bringing a stack of crates aboard the ship under the watchful eye of Ensign Bystrom. Supplies for the next mission, no doubt. The slaves had depleted the food stores, and nobody had been feasting the last few days, not even the officers. Treyjon wondered if Sagitta knew yet where they would be going next. Had he reported into Headquarters and spoken with the government representatives? The ship had landed more than five hours ago, while Treyjon had been sleeping, so he had no idea what had been going on.

Halfway across the hold, he paused, catching sight of two women near the wide hatch. They were peering out into the city, pointing and talking to each other.

He frowned, wondering if he should send them back to the rec room. Sagitta had said the women were guests, not prisoners, but Treyjon doubted the captain would want them wandering out into the city without guides. Iolkos was as safe as anywhere, but they wouldn’t have banking chips and recognized Confederation accounts. They also didn’t have logostecs, so they wouldn’t know how to pull up maps of the city or order transportation. It would be easy for them to get lost.

One of them turned around, blonde braids framing her face, and he recognized Angela. She smiled shyly at him and offered a tentative wave.

Treyjon nodded and headed toward her. The other one was pointing a handheld computer at the skyline and hadn’t noticed him yet. He wagered that was Juanita. He’d heard a story about her falling out of the ship and into Orion’s arms while taking pictures.

“Hi, Treyjon,” Angela said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Less hole-filled, yes.”

The other woman turned around. Yes, it was Juanita. Judging by her dismayed expression, she expected him to send them back to the rec room. Ensign Bystrom apparently didn’t have orders regarding them—maybe he didn’t know they weren’t supposed to be down here. As a lieutenant, Treyjon would be more likely to say something. And he should, though he didn’t like disappointing women, children, or svenkars, not necessarily in that order. A part of him wondered if he should offer to show them around the city, but he ought to ask for permission for that.

“That’s good,” Angela said, then looked toward the ramp.

Sagitta and Lieutenant Commander Korta were heading up. The auto forklift maneuvered around them without pausing. Ensign Bystrom lowered a holo clipboard and saluted earnestly, clunking his elbow on one of the freshly delivered crates.

“Carry on, Ensign,” Sagitta said, stopping at the top of the ramp. “Korta, arrange for the makeshift cells to be turned back into cabins and rooms and—”

“And my science lab, sir,” Korta said, his voice coming out of the speaker hanging around his boulder of a torso. “It’s been dreadful not having access to it. How am I supposed to perform forensics science without a lab?”

“Fortunately, there was no question as to the slavers’ guilt, so we weren’t in need of forensics science.”

Korta made a sound like rocks grinding together—it was his equivalent of a haughty sniff. “There is always a need for science.”

“Just get everything put back to normal, Lieutenant Commander. And hose everything off that those brutes touched.”

“Oh, that’s a given, sir. I will start with hosing. Then there will be disinfecting. Scouring. Pesticide and insecticide spraying. Perhaps irradiating.” Korta shuffled across the cargo hold, the hundreds of tiny legs that propelled his mass out of sight under his sizable lower girth. He assured anyone who asked that his roundness and weight were perfectly normal for his kind.

“I may need to clear all people off the ship if he’s going to irradiate it,” Sagitta murmured, then frowned over at Treyjon. “Where are you taking these women, Lieutenant?”

“Uh, nowhere, sir. They were here when I got here.”

“We’re looking at the city,” Juanita said. “It’s magnificent.” She pointed her handheld computer toward the vista she seemed to be recording.

Treyjon agreed that the city was impressive, with its skyscrapers, sporting arenas, tiers of monuments and gardens, and elevated trains going up to floating suburbs. Shuttlecraft and drones flew through it all. The Falcon 8 had landed at the open-air space base on the west side of the city, next to two other Star Guardian ships with almost identical wing-shaped bodies. To the left and right of the Star Guardian vessels were big military battleships and dozens of private and public civilian air and spacecraft. Since this part of the base was elevated, with ships berthed on platforms hanging out over the sea, the women had a good view.

“Can we go out and explore?” Juanita added, turning her computer toward Sagitta. His stern face appeared on its little camera screen.

Treyjon couldn’t imagine why someone would want to record that.

“Now that I’ve seen to it that all the prisoners have been properly incarcerated for their coming trials,” Sagitta said, “I’m turning around to go to a meeting at the agora. That’s where the archons convene. I’ll explain your situation to them, and they’ll let me know your fate. I will argue for you being returned promptly to your home world.”

“He didn’t answer our question, did he?” Juanita whispered to Angela.

Angela shook her head. She had a pretty face with a few freckles dusting her cheeks.

Treyjon hadn’t let himself notice whether any of the women they’d rescued were attractive, figuring it wouldn’t be appropriate to make overtures to any of them—not like that ass, Jarok, had done. But it was hard not to notice her warm green eyes and fine features as the sun poked through the clouds outside and lit up her face. Admittedly, he was more intrigued by her now since she’d shown an interest in the svenkars. Indeed, he needed to ask how that feeding had gone. The pups hadn’t seemed overly agitated when he visited, suggesting they’d been fed in a timely manner.

Sagitta sighed. “I don’t want you ladies to feel that you’re prisoners, but I’d also hate for you to go out and get lost—or run into trouble. It’s a metropolitan city, and the jewel of the planet, but it’s not entirely without crime.” He winced, as if it were his fault that his home city wasn’t perfect.

“We’re willing to take that risk,” Juanita hurried to say, with Angela nodding.

“I’m dying to find Oreos,” Angela added. “Or something like them. You mentioned donuts.”

Treyjon blinked. The captain had mentioned sweets? Treyjon was fairly certain Sagitta would cut off a few fingers before digesting something as hedonistic as syrup crystals.

“I said I recognized the word,” Sagitta said dryly. “Perhaps if you could find a native guide willing to take you around, you could go for a tour, though I ask that you not be gone for more than a couple of hours, until I’ve gotten back from the agora and learned… what needs to be learned.”

It wasn’t like Sagitta to be vague, so Treyjon wondered at those last words. Did he have reason to think the archons would say the women couldn’t be taken home? And if so, what would be done with them?

“I asked Orion already,” Juanita said. “He said he could tonight, but that he had to take a few of the slavers to a different place than you were taking the others.”

“Those with bounties on their heads, yes. He plans to turn them in, as if he captured them.” Sagitta sniffed. He did a much better haughty sniff than Korta.

“We did help,” Juanita said.

“Oh, I know you did. I retrieved those three you left in the sinkhole myself.” A rare pleased expression crossed the captain’s face.

Was he impressed by one of their guests? Huh.

“Tonight is a long time from now,” Juanita said, turning her camera toward the sky view again.

“But night is romantic,” Angela said, then lowered her voice to whisper, “Maybe Orion will take you out to dinner and then someplace where you can have exciting and passionate sex.”

Sagitta’s appreciative expression turned to one of distaste. Not interested in hearing about his little brother’s sex life? Treyjon smirked. Maybe Sagitta was jealous that Orion had one. Not that Treyjon had any reason to feel smug about any of this. It wasn’t as if he had a sex life. He supposed he could seek out company in the city tonight, but the idea of having sex with some strange woman didn’t excite him as much as it sometimes did. Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood.

Sagitta glanced at his logostec where a message had popped up. “He’s actually on his way back now. You should only have to wait a half hour before…”

“Exciting and passionate sex?” Treyjon suggested.

Juanita grinned and looked down the ramp, as if she might be able to spot Orion from here. Angela also grinned, but she looked at Treyjon. It was an appealing gesture and made her eyes light up.

“I need to change into formal attire for the meeting,” Sagitta said with a sigh—even their noble and highly decorated captain did not like the stuffy dress uniform—and started into the ship. After only a couple of steps, he paused and looked back. “If you don’t want to wait for my brother, perhaps Treyjon would like to give you a tour.”

Treyjon found himself blinking again, surprised both at the suggestion and this friendly, almost playful side to the captain. He was being far more normal—more human—in the presence of their female guests. Usually, he wore his distant, stern commander face all the time.

“I’ve only been here three times, sir,” Treyjon said. “I don’t think I’d be a very good native guide.”

“I just don’t want them getting lost, Lieutenant. Someone would have to jump you from behind and tie a bag around your head to keep you from making your way back to the ship, whether you’d been to the planet before or not.”

Treyjon appreciated the compliment to his skills, but felt the need to protest its inaccuracy. “Really, sir. A bag? I’d still have my nose and ears working. I’m certain I could find my way back, even wearing a bag.”

“I would be happy to go out with Lieutenant Treyjon,” Angela said.

“Me too,” Juanita said. “Orion can catch up when he gets back.”

Treyjon rubbed his jaw. “Maybe I should get the female pup and take her out. It would be a good opportunity to get her used to the noises and smells of a city. Might have to track people in one eventually.”

“Your pup? One of those big, scary slobbery things?” Juanita wrinkled her nose. “I can wait for Orion.”

“Not me.” Angela’s grin returned, broader and brighter than before. “I like the female. Do you have a name for her yet? I was calling her Lulu. I’d love to see how you train her.”

Sagitta snorted. “You should definitely take her if you’re taking the svenkar, Lieutenant. The female likes her.”

“What do you mean?” Treyjon asked. “I haven’t seen the female like anyone yet. She doesn’t even like me, and I’m charismatic to svenkar.”

“It sat down and waited patiently to get its steak from her. And then let her rub under its chin.”

Treyjon nearly fell over. “You saw this?”

Tank, the youngest male, let him handle it and came over and wanted scratches under the chin from time to time, but it was harder to develop that kind of bond with the ones that were brought into the pack later in life. And that mean female? The one that had belonged to Captain Cutty? He couldn’t believe it had wanted affection of any kind.

“Yes,” Sagitta said. “I was on the verge of yanking her back to make sure she wouldn’t be hurt. The female growled at me to back off, then let Miss Angela rub its chin.”

“I… I’ve definitely seen that the males are more likely to bond with men, and I’ve heard the opposite can be true with female svenkar, with them being more likely to bond to women, but I’ve never seen it. Of course, I think I’ve only come across one female svenkar trainer in my life. Not many women are interested in having anything to do with them.” He turned from Sagitta to regard Angela with new eyes.

Her cheeks had flushed pink, and she looked down, only shrugging at the words. Had the attention embarrassed her? It was hard to imagine someone shy appealing to the fierce svenkar.

“Imagine that,” Sagitta murmured, glancing at his logostec. “I need to go. If you take the women out, don’t stay too long. We could be leaving as early as tomorrow morning, depending on how the meeting goes and what orders come down from Headquarters.”

Treyjon barely heard him. He was looking at Angela and thinking about stories he’d heard of female svenkars. If a man—or woman—could win a svenkar’s loyalty, it was amazing. He or she had a devoted bodyguard for as long as the creature lived. He didn’t have that kind of relationship with any of the animals in the pack now—he’d had to pick creatures who were particularly skilled in the field, and those weren’t always the most affectionate ones—but he’d known that kind of loyal relationship as a boy. Svenkars came from his home world, after all.

“I’m going to go get her,” he blurted, excited at the idea of taking the pup out, but also at seeing if Angela truly did have a knack for handling svenkars. The captain wasn’t someone given to hyperbole. “We can go anywhere in the city where they’re allowed then.”

He waved and ran off, suddenly looking forward to more than stretching his arms and experiencing the sun.