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Jo
And he ricocheted off the ceiling to slam to the deck behind the four guards, fingertip lasers blazing.
The communications box went first, fried instantly by a blast from his arcthrower. Two of the guards' guns hit the deck midway through that first salvo; the other two guards made it nearly all the way around before their lasers also erupted with clouds of vaporized metal and plastic and went spi
With the translator link down his words were unintelligible, but none of the aliens seemed to mistake his meaning. All remained frozen where they stood or sat, arm membranes stretched wide, as Jo
He heard them coming down the boarding tu
The door caught the nearest Troft full in the back, jolting him forward and clearing just enough room for Jo
And then, for a long moment, the corridor was a silent, frozen tableau.
"All right," Jo
Still no one moved, the twelve laser muzzles forming shining counterpoint to the arched arm membranes spread out behind each of them. "I told you to drop your guns," Jo
The Troft leaning against him stirred slightly in his grip. "They have no concern for my life," the translator voice said. "I am not the Ship Commander, merely a Services Engineer in his uniform. A crude trick, but one which we learned from humans."
Jo
"They will not shoot," the Troft in his grip said. "You are a koubrah-soldier from the Aventine world, and if killed you would merely fight on until all aboard were dead."
Jo
"You need not deny the truth. We have all heard the report."
What report? Jo
MacDonald. Somehow they'd heard about MacDonald.
He looked at the circle of Trofts again, seeing their rigidly stretched arm membranes with new eyes. Determination, he'd thought earlier, or perhaps rage. But now he recognized the emotion for what it was: simple, naked fear. D'arl was right, that same detached fragment of his mind realized. They are afraid of us. "I don't wish to kill anyone," he said quietly. "I want only to free my companions and to continue on my way."
"To what end?" the same flat voice came from the direction of the boarding tu
"That of protecting my world, Commander," Jo
The other said something in catertalk, and slowly the circle of laser muzzles dipped to point at the floor. His eyes on the Troft commander, Jo
"Perhaps," the commander said. "You spared the lives of the Trof'tes in your control center when you could as easily have killed them. Why?"
Jo
"Koubrah-soldiers were created to kill."
"We were created to defend. There's a difference."
The other seemed to ponder that. "Perhaps there are grounds for compromise," he said at last. "Or at least for discussion. Will you and your companion come to my bridge?"
Jo
The commander was silent a moment. "I believe I understand. If so, I would still invite her to accompany us."
Turning, he disappeared into the boarding tu
He was back on the Menssana side of the tu
"What the hell happened?" Wrey asked, his bewildered tone making the words more plaintive than demanding. "No questioning, no demands—no talk, period—and suddenly they're letting us go?"
"Oh, there was talking, all right," Jo
Tarvn's eyebrows arched, but all he said was, "Got it," before heading forward at a fast trot.
"What's going on?" Wrey demanded as Jo