The Beag-Liath ship settled less than a kilometre from the enormous docking facility they had obliterated during the Port Authority battle several annum prior. The crew removed their Serefim captives from the stasis chambers and laid them outside the ship. They were given stimulants and a few had revived enough to sit up. One of the Beag-Liath wove its way among the twelve soldiers offering them small cups of water.
“It seems they aren’t being dumped as unceremoniously as we were back on Domhan Siol,” Egan observed wryly.
“I doubt they’re infected with a potentially lethal pathogen.”
“So you think that makes a difference?”
“Oh husband, you’re just so funny,” Althea replied in a monotone.
Egan hid a smile behind a gulp from his water bottle. He pulled binoculars from the side pocket of
