But Cynara had denied his request to accompany her in the rescue attempt. He had not fought Toussaint and Janek when they took him to his cabin. His one thought was that Cynara was about to go into danger, accompanied only by a healer and a female an’laik’in, a fragile technician with no skill to protect her First.
And here he was, in the cockpit of a vessel bound for some unknown destination.
The shuttle. He was on the shuttle Thalassa. He crossed to the console and scanned the configuration of the controls. They were locked on autopilot, but he could assume command with no difficulty.
“Poseidon!”
He spun to face the voice. The young female Lizbet Montague crouched in the doorway, clinging to its frame as if hard vacuum waited on the other side.
“An Montague,” he said, raising his hands. “I mean no harm.”
“How did you get here?” she whispered. “The captain said—” The skin of her throat quivered. “You escaped from detention.”
He tried to smile. “I am not armed. Bring the captain, sh’eivalin-an. I will remain here.”
Montague scuttled backward, more shock than fear in her posture. Bootheels rang on the deck beyond the door.
Cynara stepped through with her sidearm at the ready, brows arched high.
“I should be surprised,” she said, “but for some strange reason I’m not. Put your hands on top of your head, Ser Ronan.”
He obeyed while Montague reappeared at Cynara’s flank and Healer Zheng loomed behind them, her bulk filling the doorway. Cynara strode up to Ronan and patted his shipsuit with one hand. All the insignificant hairs on his body stood erect.
“I am not armed,” he repeated.
She stepped back. “I doubt that would make much difference in your case. How the hell did you get on my shuttle?”
“I do not know.”
“You just ‘appeared’ here, the same way you did on the bridge?” Her expression hardened. “How did you escape the guard? What did you do to him?”
His ears twitched in negation before he remembered to shake his head. “I do not remember. The last I knew I was in my cabin.”
It was evident from her stance that she did not believe him. “Every one of my crew had better be in good health when we return.” She gestured him away from the pilot’s seat. “Lizbet, hail the Pegasus.”
The young female slid into the seat with a swift glance at Ronan. Adumbe’s voice answered the hail.
“Taye, has there been any kind of disturbance on the Pegasus that you failed to mention?”
“Disturbance, Captain?”
“We have a stowaway on the Thalassa. He seems to have escaped a locked cabin and eluded his guard. Perhaps you have an explanation?”
Silence, and the hum of distant voices. “Captain, I have no explanation. Toussaint has just located Bhruic, who appears to have been sleeping on the cabin bunk. He has no recollection of how he came to be there, or how the prisoner escaped.”
“I see. Get Bhruic to the infirmary and have Ardith check him out thoroughly. I want a full report.”
“Acknowledged, Captain. Will you be returning?”
“Negative. Carry on.”
Montague broke the connection. If Cynara had been shaauri, Ronan would have prepared for imminent attack. He had begun to learn better.
“I’d turn back for the Pegasus and toss you in the brig if we hadn’t come so far,” she said. “But your good fortune is temporary, my friend. When we get to Dharma…”
“I came to help you retrieve your ve’laik’in,” he said. “What you do with me afterward is of no concern.”
She paused, pushing a loose strand of russet hair from her forehead. “What do you make of him, Zheng? I suspect that he combines the worst of human and shaauri.”
Ronan turned up the corners of his mouth, making another attempt at human levity. “So shaauri and Kinsmen have told me.”
“I am inclined to believe him, Captain,” the healer said. “He seems to feel he owes you some personal allegiance.”
“Scylla’s teeth.” Cynara moved very close and stared into Ronan’s eyes. “Is that what you want to do—swear allegiance? You broke your word to me on the ship, when you came to the bridge and again when you escaped—”