Nalea followed Roden past the guards posted at the doorway, out of the room, and into the hallway. It didn’t take long to catch up. After several swaying steps, he leaned against the wall. With his eyes closed, he rested his head back and took a deep breath. His wings hung limply.

Despite still being angry at him for writing her off as dead, she took a step closer. Cautiously, she slid her dark glasses down her nose to look him in the eye. “And what happens when you take down Otas? What then, Roden?”

His gaze met hers then. “Then you’ll have one less Draeken to worry about.”

“Amen to that,” Sienna called out as she appeared around a corner and into Nalea’s line of sight. “But Nalea’s right. You’re in no shape to be out of bed.”

“Eavesdropping again?” Roden asked.

“When it comes to my best friend being in the same room as my worst enemy, you’re damn straight. And you better get used to it because The Roden Show is on twenty-four/seven around here.”

Nalea pushed the dark glasses back up her nose.

Roden grunted and pushed off from the wall. “Get me Sommers.”

“I don’t follow your orders,” Sienna snapped back.

“Please,” Roden said, except the word came out as an order.

Sienna shot him a hard glare but picked up her cell phone.

Roden stepped forward, but his knee buckled. Without thinking, Nalea slid herself under his shoulder, taking on some of his weight. He grumbled but didn’t push her away. As she hefted his dead weight, she looked up at Sienna. “A little help here?”

Sienna looked aghast as she slid her cell phone into her pocket. “Uh, hello? Cripple here.” She motioned to her leg.

Nalea snorted. “I’ve known you long enough to know that you would never, ever consider yourself crippled.”

Sienna rolled her eyes before sliding her arm around Roden’s other side. They’d walked only a few steps before Sienna was pulled away.

Nalea glanced up to see a glaring Legian standing in the hallway with an arm wrapped around Sienna’s waist. Major Sommers, along with three human soldiers, approached from several feet away.

“Glad you could make it,” Nalea said. “It seems Roden is intent on killing himself, and we’re helping him.”

Sommers smirked. “Well, if that’s the case…” He motioned, and two of his men stepped forward and took on most of Roden’s weight. Nalea stepped back with relief. Being in such close proximity to Roden was unnerving.

Sienna and Legian led them down several long hallways before coming to a large room, one wall of which was covered in windows. His ships had already begun to arrive. Armed soldiers—all human aside from a few Sephians—flocked onto the tarmac. Humans and Sephians alike looked more than a little apprehensive, but Roden’s people must’ve provided the clearance codes to land, or else they would’ve been shot down.

“I would thank you for the assistance, but I much preferred the company of the two women—ow!” Roden sniped, and Nalea noticed one of the soldiers had roughly grabbed a wing as they stepped away from the Draeken. Roden stretched his wing, glancing back. “Your people are quite clumsy.”

“Mm,” Sommers replied with a smile.

Roden leaned against a window, his pale skin even paler in the light. He looked absolutely exhausted, probably as much from blood loss as from the tiscalin. “Major, my ships will have room for more if you have any soldiers you’d like to send along. But, if they come, they’re under my command for this one.”

“Giving orders now? That wasn’t part of our deal,” Sommers said, his armed crossed over his chest. “You better tread softly, Commander.”

Roden sighed. “If Otas has partially completed upgrading power cells on the base, then the core ships won’t be far behind. We’re on borrowed time as it is.”

“And what do you propose?” Sommers asked, leaning forward in his chair. “We can’t breach that force shield.”

“Ah, but we can now,” Roden replied. “My teams have just finished updating the power cells on several ships.”

Legian frowned. “Who’s to stop you from turning that power against us after we take down your competition?”

He won’t. Nalea suddenly noticed everyone looking at her and realized she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. “It’s true,” she said. “Roden doesn’t want another war.”

“I do want peace,” Roden said before turning back to Sommers. “And I also don’t renege on my promises. I’ll keep to the terms we agreed on. It is not my intent to cause friction at the onset of our relationship. However, we simply don’t have the time to negotiate right now. Otas won’t suspect that my teams have upgraded the cells so quickly, but he has to assume we’ve been working on them. We must move quickly, because I doubt you’ll like the outcome if he’s still in charge when the core ships are at full power.”

“Do you propose the same mission plan as before?” Sommers asked.

“Same plan, but we use my ships this time. They have the power necessary to take down the force barrier.”

Sienna held out her hands. “You can’t be seriously considering this.”

Nalea frowned at her friend. She’d never noticed how much Sienna hated the Draeken before. Then again, she’d never noticed because she had hated the Draeken so much herself. Roden was right: Nalea had lumped his entire race into one bucket labeled ‘unworthy of living’.

“We can take your ships,” Sommers said, ignoring Sienna. “But we’re doubling the human troops. You run the show to take down the force shield, and I run the show on the ground.”

Roden nodded. “As long as I lead the team that goes for Otas.”

Sommers thought for a moment. “Yes, as long as Apolo goes with you. And I select your team. I want people who’ve worked together before. We won’t succeed without cohesion.”

“I have to be on that team,” Nalea added. When everyone turned to her, she added, “Otas knows he needs me. We can use that to our advantage.”

“As long as you wear that disjunctor, you pose a risk to the entire team,” Roden said.

“I’ll keep the vest on. If Otas sets it off, that should protect everyone from the blast.”

“Except you,” Sienna said.

“I’m not safe wherever I am as long as I wear this. I may as well do some good instead of sitting around.”

Sommers nodded. “You have a point. You go with us. While that thing around your neck is still an unknown risk, we need to get to Otas quickly, and you might be the diversion we need.” Sommers motioned to a soldier who pulled out a syringe and approached Roden.

Roden took a step back. “What is that?”

“This,”—Sommers held up the syringe—“contains a tracer. Consider this an assurance that you don’t plan to leave us high and dry once this is done. Any Draeken and Sephian on Earth soil also gets a tracer.”

Nalea stood there, holding her breath. A tracer would effectively put a bulls-eye on each of them. The humans could take out any of their people whenever they wanted.

Roden pursed his lips before speaking. “An assurance it is then. I’ll make arrangements for my troops.” He held out his arm.

Sommers shook his head. Then pointed to Roden’s neck.

“I do believe that you enjoy this.” Roden lowered his head and winced when Sommers injected him.

Roden looked back up, rubbing his neck. “Happy now?”

“Mm,” Sommers replied. He then looked across the faces in the room. “We leave at 1730. That gives us nearly four hours to prepare our teams for the mission.”

“One last thing,” Roden said. “I’d like my people back.”

Sommers frowned. “And exactly which ones would that be?”

Roden cocked his head. “Talla Kohlm, for starters, who I know for a fact the Sephians have had the pleasure of hosting for the past year, as well all my compatriots abducted from Club Mayhem.”

“I can’t confirm we have any of your people, but I’ll look into it,” Sommers said.

“You do that,” Roden said, the challenge clear in his words.

The door opened, and a small Draeken female stepped inside, escorted by two human soldiers. She glanced around, and once she saw Roden, she headed directly to him. She pulled out a small black case from her pocket. He nodded in the direction of the Sephians. “That belongs to them.”

“My end of the bargain,” Roden said. “We’ve made adjustments to the prototype to make the update process more efficient. With this, you should be able to get all the Sephian power cells updated within a month, at which time any Sephians who wish to return to Sephia can. I’m working on the conversion on my base now.”

“I’ll take that,” Sommers said, taking the package. “We’ll work out the conversion timetable together.”

Interesting. A sense of foreboding filled Roden. The humans had even more control over the Sephians than he’d first realized.

“Let me get this straight. Your entire base, not just your ships, will be running at full power soon?” Sommers asked, looking skeptical and not a bit pleased.

Roden nodded. “Soon, and I suspect you’d like to continue our discussions of a more permanent alliance after this mission because I can assure you, you don’t want me for an enemy.”

Sommers bristled. “You won’t intimidate me, Zyll. And, don’t forget, this planet doesn’t belong to you. We’ll fight tooth and nail to keep our home.”

“As long as the alliance we reach is mutually beneficial, I assure you that things will go smoothly.” His voice then lowered, the words more drawn out. “I would hope your people have learned from past mistakes, such as how the natives to this country were originally handled. My people would find that kind of treatment… unacceptable.”

“We have no intention of mistreating our new guests,” Sommers said tightly.

Roden’s lips curved upward and he clapped his hands once. “Then we’ll get along splendidly. I already have some ideas for how you can leverage our power cells.”

Three hours later, Nalea sat in a lounge with Roden, Sienna, Legian, Sommers, and several other human officers, finalizing plans for the mission. A female Draeken stepped into the room as though she were unsure she should be there. She was the first Draeken Nalea had seen on Earth who was shorter than her. She watched with suspicion as the winged female pulled out a fabric case and opened it to reveal a syringe of black fluid. Nalea sucked in a breath and glared at Roden. “Merr? You can’t be serious.”

Roden glanced down at her. Hard truth shone in his eyes. “You want peace? You want a shot at Otas? Then this is it, my dear. There’s no time to lose, and my body isn’t strong enough.”

“But that drug has a seventy percent death rate,” she countered.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve used it more than once before and I’m still here,” he said. He nodded to the Draeken at his side.

Nalea stared as Roden was injected with the highly illegal drug. He gave a sharp wince as the drug entered his bloodstream. Merr was a last resort drug, used to increase adrenaline for several hours, most often used during warfare to allow wounded soldiers to continue the fight.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You’ll be helpless for days after it wears off.”

Roden stretched his wings, then his arms, clearly still in pain but already moving with more fluidity and strength than seconds earlier. He glanced her way. “Then I’ll be sure to be in bed and ensconced safely in your arms by then.”

Nalea scowled at the comment. “I see the merr has already affected your brain.”

Roden stood, at first wobbly on his feet, then more secure. “My ships depart for the base in fifteen minutes.” With that, he walked outside.

Nalea jogged to catch up. “Hold up,” she said, grabbing Roden by the shoulder.

Gix grabbed Nalea’s wrist, but after a nod from Roden, Gix stepped away, glared at Nalea, and walked ahead.

Roden turned his attention on Nalea.

“There’s something I can’t figure out,” she said quietly. “You went after Hillas before your ships were at full power. If you’d waited, you wouldn’t have needed help from the humans and Sephians now. Why?”

His lips curved upward. “Hillas had bragged too soon. Until he had operating power cells, he was weak. It was the optimal time to bring in humans to take down Hillas with minimal risk. Battles are always good for alliances. If he hadn’t initiated the force barrier, we would have succeeded in taking Otas down.”

“But the mission failed.”

He shook his head. “No. I rescued my consort.”

“Ah yes, your endgame,” she said drily. “After all, you need a Puftan to make everyone fall in line.”

He glanced over to his ship, then back at her. In his eyes, she saw emotion; disappointment, sadness, and something else. “Yes,” he said finally. “Everything is about the endgame.”