Chapter 9

Taryn watched intently as Rhys approached the lone human, his muscles tensed and ready to spring into action at the first sign of betrayal. The very thought of Rhys deceiving him caused a strange tightness in Taryn"s chest, a feeling he couldn"t quite place.

Humans were treacherous beings, capable of great cruelty and deception. Taryn had seen it firsthand, had lost his beloved brother to their violence. Every lesson from his warrior training screamed at him to never trust a human, to assume the worst of their intentions.

And yet...

There was something about Rhys that gave Taryn pause. The human had shown no signs of dishonesty or ill intent since being brought into the Borraq camp. In fact, he had been remarkably cooperative, even offering up this daring plan to catch his own kind.

If this was all an elaborate ruse, if Rhys meant to betray them to aid his own kind...

The sting of that potential betrayal was sharper than Taryn expected. He found himself hoping against all logic and experience that Rhys was true to his word. To be deceived by a human, after Rhys had looked him in the eye and promised to help, after Taryn had begun to sense a strange appreciation of the alien...

It would cut like a blade.

Mal finally saw Rhys. The other human whipped around, shouting something. This far, Taryn couldn"t hear the words, just the faint sound of their voices.

Rhys froze, acting surprised, and then looked overjoyed, shouting back. His body language was perfect: at first, his shoulders hunched, head down, the very picture of a tired, hungry, lost human desperate to rejoin his kind — and then bursting into relief.

Even from this distance, Taryn could see the way the other human"s posture shifted, his interest piqued by Rhys"s act. Mal shouted something back to Rhys, his voice still loud, but his posture was softer.

So far, so good. Rhys was playing his part flawlessly. But the true test was still to come.

If the other human took the bait and let Rhys approach, letting his guard down in the belief that he was collecting a lost compatriot, then the trap could be sprung. Rhys could get Mal"s gun from him, and then the Borraq could close in.

But if Mal sensed the deception, if he stayed wary and kept his distance...

Taryn"s heart thundered in his chest as the two humans spoke, their voices too low to make out now. He watched Rhys"s every micro-expression, searching for any hint of falsehood, any sign that would give away to Mal that this was all a ploy.

There was none. Instead of mining, Rhys should have got into performing.

Or was this performance for Taryn?

Taryn squared his jaw. Mal was focused on Rhys. Signaling silently to the others, Taryn began to slink down the wooded face of the ridge, keeping the humans in sight as he slipped through the cover of the trees.

Finally, he closed in on the scene. Taryn watched, his muscles taut with tension, as Rhys approached the other human.

The man"s weathered face was set in a scowl, his grip tight on the weapon he held. "Huh, can"t believe it really is you. How"d you get away?"

"I"m quick on my feet." Rhys grinned with feigned exhaustion and relief. "Not as quick as you, though. Thank god, I"ve been trying to catch up with you guys for days."

Mal spat. "Pity."

For a moment, Taryn tried to work out what he"d just heard.

And then Mal leveled his gun at Rhys.

Taryn had to give it to Rhys — he really was quick. Rhys jerked to the side, throwing himself behind a tree. Rhys"s eyes were wide, his expression one of genuine shock. "Mal? What are you doing?!"

His gun held in front of him, Mal began to step towards Rhys"s hiding spot. "Shut your mouth," he snapped. "You were expendable from the start. I won"t have you slowing us down right when we"re nearly there. You"ve already probably left a trail a mile wide! Christ, those horned bastards will be on your heels."

Fury blazed hot in Taryn"s chest. How dare this human treat one of his own with such callous disregard? Rhys had done nothing to deserve such cruelty, such utter disloyalty from his own kind.

Rhys was shaking his head, his eyes wide with a hurt that cut Taryn to his core. He tried to keep the tree between him and Mal, moving around it as Mal stalked closer. "Mal, please, you can"t—"

"Shut up." Mal shifted his weight, ready to spring around the tree. If Taryn had had any lingering hopes that the runaway humans were just simple miners, they would have disappeared at the way that Mal held his gun: solid and military, a trained killer. "Better me than the bastards. Time to say goodbye."

In that instant, Taryn saw everything with blinding clarity. He saw the malice in Mal"s eyes, the hard truth that he fully intended to murder Rhys in cold blood. He saw the betrayal etched on Rhys"s face, the honest pain and fear of a soul who had given everything, only to be discarded.

Most of all, he saw a future where Rhys ceased to exist, his light snuffed out by one of his own kind.

It was unacceptable.

Gun raised, Mal lunged around the tree.

Taryn moved without thought, without hesitation. His blade left his hand in a flash of blurred motion, the metal singing as it sliced through the air. "Down!" he roared, his voice a thunderous command that brooked no refusal.

To his relief, Rhys obeyed instantly, dropping into a protective crouch. Taryn"s blade found its mark a heartbeat later, slamming into Mal"s chest with deadly accuracy. The human"s scream of shock and pain drowned out by the thump of his gun hitting the ground.

"You will not harm him," Taryn snarled, his words laced with the promise of violence as he advanced on the now-disarmed human. "He is under my protection."

He risked a glance over his shoulder at Rhys. The human was staring at Mal with naked shock, his dark green eyes searching the man"s fallen body as if seeing him for the first time.

"Are you unharmed?" Taryn asked, his tone softening ever so slightly.

Rhys nodded mutely, seemingly at a loss for words. Taryn felt a strange sense of relief.

And then Rhys suddenly broke away. He rushed to the fallen human"s side. Taryn watched in surprise as Rhys fell to his knees beside the man who had intended to kill him mere moments ago.

"Mal!" Rhys cried, his voice tight with desperation. "Tell me, where"s the pick-up point? Where?" He shook Mal. "Where"s the extraction point?!"

Taryn froze.

Thatwas why Rhys had wanted to approach Mal. He wanted to escape from Taryn, and flee Vasz. He needed to know where and when to go.

That was all.

But Rhys"s last grasp at hope crumbled before his eyes.

Mal"s laughter was a gurgling, bloody rasp. "You really are dumb as a rock, aren"t you?" He fixed Rhys with a sneer, his eyes glittering with cruel amusement. "There was never any extraction. This was a one-way trip from the start."

The color drained from Rhys"s face. "No..." he whispered, shaking his head in mute denial. "No, that can"t be right. You"re lying!"

Mal let out one final wheezing chuckle. "Stupid kid..."

With those last mocking words, the human fell still. Rhys stared at the lifeless form for a long moment, his expression one of stunned disbelief.

Taryn watched him carefully. Fear, anger, sorrow — they all flickered through those expressive eyes before being subsumed by a bone-deep weariness.

"He"s gone," Taryn said, keeping his voice low and steady. "There is nothing more to be done."

Rhys didn"t respond at first. He simply knelt there beside Mal"s corpse, his shoulders slumped in dejection. Taryn could practically see the weight of his situation crashing down on the human.

His last hope at fleeing the planet was gone. Stranded. Alone. Cut off from everything and everyone he had ever known.

It would be enough to break a lesser being. Rhys had proven himself resilient thus far, had demonstrated a core of inner strength that Taryn could not help but admire.

But even the strongest will could buckle under such a staggering burden. If Taryn had found himself stuck in human space, never able to get back to Vasz…

Slowly, Rhys lifted his head to meet Taryn"s gaze. There was no accusation in those haunted eyes, no resentment or fear. Only a hollow sort of resignation, as if he had finally accepted the cruel reality of his circumstances.

"What do I do now?" he asked, his voice little more than a cracked whisper.

In that moment, with Rhys bowed before him — vulnerable, adrift, bereft of hope — Taryn felt an unexpected swell of protectiveness. This human, this fragile creature so far from home, had been thrust into Taryn"s world through no fault of his own. Left to fend for himself against dangers he could scarcely comprehend. Betrayed by his own kind.

It was unacceptable.

A Borraq warrior did not leave the helpless to suffer, no matter their allegiances. Rhys may have been born human, but in this moment he was simply a lost soul in need of support.

Taryn held Rhys"s gaze. "Now?" he said. "Now, you come with me. I will keep you safe until we can find a way to return you to your people."

Rhys turned that bleak, hopeless gaze up at Taryn. "But you hate me."

Taryn didn"t answer that. He extended his hand, offering Rhys the same steadying grip he offered his own warriors in their moments of doubt or weariness. "You have my word."

For a long heartbeat, Rhys simply stared at Taryn"s outstretched hand. Then, almost imperceptibly, some of the tension seemed to bleed from his body.

He reached out to grasp Taryn"s hand, allowing the Borraq to pull him to his feet.

As Taryn watched the play of emotions chase themselves across Rhys"s features, he felt an unexpected pang resonate deep within his chest. A protective instinct, familiar yet distinctly new, that urged him to shield this human from any further hurt or hardship.

It was the same driving force that had moved him to intervene when Mal"s weapon was leveled at Rhys"s heart. The same impulse that had his blade leaving his hand before conscious thought could even take shape. He had acted without hesitation, without regard for allegiance or custom, driven solely by the need to preserve Rhys"s life.

His act had compromised his mission. It had saved Rhys"s life.

Taryn wanted to dismiss that impulse as little more than muscle memory. A knee-jerk reaction born from decades of shielding his younger brother from the harsh realities they had faced together. Vasz was an unforgiving mother, and protecting those weaker or less experienced had become as natural to him as breathing.

Seeing Rhys in peril had simply... triggered that old instinct. A brief flash of misplaced protectiveness that would soon fade.

That was all.

And yet… Taryn could not bring himself to silence that tantalizing inner voice. Could not entirely shut himself off from the alien yet intriguing emotions that seemed to unfurl within him whenever Rhys"s bright eyes met his own.

It went against every lesson, every ingrained truth that guided him as both warrior and Borraq.

But it felt right.