Shy shrugged. “That depends on Locke and his contact, but I don’t think any of us are in a position to keep pushing like we have been.”
Tayel thought immediately of Fehn; no one had been pushed as hard as him. “Has anyone gone to see Fehn since this morning?” she asked.
“Locke was going to ask for help transitioning him onto the ship,” Shy said. “Hopefully some medical supplies too.”
“Fehn is the young man who can wield dark aether?” Arcen asked.
Jace nodded. “Yeah. He’s awesome.”
Otto looked up from the tower of supplies before him. “Speaking of Locke…”
Locke and an elderly Varg Tayel had never seen entered the armory, speaking in low tones. Even using a cane, it was obvious Locke slowed his pace to match his companion’s.
“A lot of damage has been done,” he said as they approached. “You could use me here, Paru, or at least some of the help I can send in my stead.”
“We came to an agreement last night,” the Varg said. “You have done much for us, but it is time for you to move on. Your own people seem in desperate need of their prince’s attention, and mine desperately need to rebuild what we have left.”
Locke’s mouth twisted like he was holding back a retort, a feat he managed as he and the Varg stopped before everyone else.
“Everyone,” Locke said, “this is Kalanie Outpost’s leader, Paru. He was my contact here on Modnik, the one who worked with me to discover the Rokkir invasion.”
Paru sniffed. “Evening, outworlders. I’m glad you met with some success during yesterday’s mission. Forgive our outpost’s hospitality coming to an end so soon. My people are eager to be rid of outworlders, no matter how useful.” He bowed his head to Locke apologetically.
“What’s going to happen to the rest of the Delta refugees?” Arcen asked.
“We are making plans with the Elshan government to come pick them up. Modnik has few space-faring vessels, so the council is generating resources to help.”
Locke scowled. “The council we both know is run by covert invaders.”
“So long as Delta’s refugees stay out of politics—”
“Or the military,” Shy snapped. “You can’t send those people there.”
Paru’s expression darkened. “Renowned princess, I am what’s left of the political hierarchy on this planet, and I must send these refugees elsewhere. So I will send them to wherever they will be taken.”
“Just getting them out of your fur, then,” Tayel muttered.
“Judge my decision if you wish, but we don’t have the resources to help. With Rokkir forces reportedly scouring the mothership’s crash site, this outpost has enough to worry about without the Deltians.”
Nita perked up. “Rokkir? None near here, I hope?”
“You would hear the war pack’s cry no later than the instant a shadow slithered into our city,” Paru assured her. “But considering Balcruf’s recounting of the fight with the Rokkir leader, I can only assume that if they wanted to destroy us utterly, they would have already done so. We’re likely safe for now.”
Even so, the idea of Ruxbane poking around the outpost rose goosebumps along Tayel’s arms.
“How is Balcruf?” Jace asked.
“He won’t be seeing you off, if that’s what you’re asking,” Paru said.
While the silence allowed everyone to develop their own interpretations of Paru’s answer, Tayel knew she understood his exact meaning. She remembered how Balcruf stared at her when faced with the disappearance of his people on the mothership. She remembered how defeated he’d looked and how curt he’d been after the fact. It was understandable, but understanding it didn’t make him hating her any easier. In his mind, had she gone with Ruxbane, he’d be celebrating with all the family and friends who he instead watched vanish.
Jace had called her paranoid when she told him about it that morning. Then again, he’d called her paranoid when she complained about a weird girl in Sinosian clothes stalking them around camp, so there. She was probably right.
“Anyway,” Shy said, breaking the silence. “How’s my ship?”
“It is ready,” Paru said. “Although we are unable to spare any fuel.”
“Figures. Most of the trip will be FTL travel, anyway.”
“Thank you, Paru.” Locke looked pointedly at Shy. “The repairs are appreciated. I hope we’ll stay in touch.”
“Of course. It is to both our advantages,” Paru said. “Farewell, outworlders.” He turned, his tail swooshing across the thin layer of snow atop the floor, and walked away.
“What an ass,” Shy said.
Otto chuckled.
“It always pays to be a gracious guest, sister,” Locke said. “Anyhow, since we’re cleared for launch, I’m going to help the Varg get Fehn onboard. They’ve agreed to part with basic monitoring equipment and antibiotics.”
“That’s great,” Tayel said.
“Might consider a pre-flight check before we go,” Otto said. “Who’s our pilot?”
Shy rose her hand slightly. “I am. Pre-flight check is a good idea.”
“I can help if ya like.”
“Sure.”
“The rest of us can start bringing supplies onboard after we finish taking inventory,” Arcen offered. “Where are we parked?”
“I can take us there,” Tayel said. “We should probably ask for some kind of supply lift, though. There’s a lot of stuff.”
With the game plan set, everyone set about their duties. Tayel exchanged a quick smile with Shy before parting ways. It was still so weird — too weird — seeing these two groups mesh together like this, but it was nice, too. With Shy’s smile fresh in Tayel’s mind, and a new task to complete, she eagerly took up Nita’s offer to find a lift they could borrow. The prospect of leaving had put Tayel in a much better mood.
Over the next three hours, she helped pack the ship with supplies. Everything they’d counted and inventoried went onboard, stacked and netted in the hold or secured in the short hall between the hold and the bedrooms. Locke helped bring Fehn inside halfway through the process, and with him, the supplies, and everyone else onboard, the ship would be just a few kilograms under the maximum weight, according to Otto. It was a lucky break, he’d said. They almost had to throw Tayel out.
She was making the point that he was the heaviest of them all when Shy swung out of the open hold door and announced they were about ready to depart.
“And, Tayel!” she called. “Co-pilot?”
“Sure,” Tayel called back. “I’ll meet you up there in a few minutes. Gonna check on Fehn real quick.”
Shy gave her a thumb’s up, and Tayel left to skirt around supplies, making her way through the ship toward Fehn. If she thought his room was cramped before, it was absolutely packed now that they’d put medical equipment inside. A small computer with wires leading to parts of him under the blanket tracked various readings, and boxes of stuff labeled with thick, red crosses sat stacked and netted to the wall. Fehn himself looked happy, the color back in his face and his voice evidently stronger as he laughed with Jace.
“Hey,” Tayel greeted from the doorway.
“Hey, Red, we were just talking about you,” Fehn said.
Jace’s feathers puffed.
Tayel crossed her arms. “Oh?”
“Yeah, well, you and Shy,” Fehn said. “Definitely news worthy.”
“I didn’t realize anyone saw.”
“I didn’t mean to start gossiping,” Jace said. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t care if anyone knows. In this proximity, you all were going to find out anyway.” She grinned at Fehn. “Jealous?”
“Not at all. Now I get to come up with gross couple nicknames.” He arced his hand through the air. “The Princess and the Mag Player. Or: The Raider and the Tramp.”