By the time I had the Lady back on line, Caldswell was at the other end of the hall, and Rupert was with him.

After Reaper’s message, I’d been too busy to wonder where Rupert was, but apparently he’d made it back to the ship just fine, and he’d been busy. He was standing beside the captain with two giant weapon cases in his hands. Both looked heavier than my suit could handle one-handed, and the front of each was neatly stenciled with the letters ATSM.

My breath caught. Anti-tank strategic missiles. Now those we could use. But before I could get close enough to ask what the plan was, the captain gave what looked like a final order and Rupert turned and ran, hefting the huge cases like they were full of straw as he swept down the spiral stair to the Fool’s lower level.

“Please tell me that’s your trump card,” I said, running up to the captain.

“Afraid I’m all out of those. We’re playing this by ear now.” He shot me a grim look and pulled out his com. When he spoke again, his voice sounded over the ship’s system and in my helmet. “All hands to the cargo bay. Bring no arms. Prepare for surrender.”

Excitement turned to horror as I watched the captain close his com and stick it back in his pocket. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack,” Caldswell replied, walking into the lounge.

“I am not surrendering.”

Caldswell didn’t even dignify that with a look. “You’ll do as I say. Use your head, Morris. We’re caught tight. If we fight, we’ll just end up caught and dead. So we’re going to make the most of a bad situation. I need you to follow my orders exactly with no back talk, agreed?”

I didn’t, but I also knew I couldn’t take an entire xith’cal tribe by myself. So, grudgingly, I took my hands off my guns and followed the captain into the lounge.

By this point, Basil and Nova were right behind us. Hyrek was already there, waiting by the kitchen. Our xith’cal looked almost gray with fear under the orange emergency lights, but like everyone else, he was composed as he greeted the captain with a respectful nod. Rupert was nowhere to be seen, but that was to be expected. I just hoped he was as good with those tank killers as he was at faking being a Royal Knight.

Once we were all together, Caldswell told the rest of the crew what he’d just told me. To my surprise, no one argued, not even Basil. Every single one of them was looking at the captain with so much trust it made me feel a little ill, but then I suppose a bit of blind faith was a career necessity when you were one of Brian Caldswell’s permanent crew.

I hung back as Caldswell led his people down the lounge stairs to the cargo bay. This was partially because being on the ship again put me back in security officer mode, which meant it was my job to bring up the rear, but mostly I was mesmerized by what was going on outside the lounge windows. The enormous xith’cal battle cruiser that had shot out our hyperdrive coil wasn’t reeling us in as I’d first thought. It was towing us, pulling the junked Fool like so much space trash toward the enormous shadow of the tribe ship.

When I’d seen the dead tribe ship floating in the asteroids in the Recant, I’d thought it was the biggest ship I would ever see. Now I realized what Hyrek had meant when he’d said Stoneclaw was a small tribe. The tribe ship in front of me was so huge I couldn’t see the light of Montblanc’s sun anymore. Reaper’s ship was like a great black moon pricked with millions of tiny yellow-lit windows, and even though I knew the battleship must be towing us very quickly, compared to the huge curve of the hull before us, we didn’t seem to be moving at all.

“Morris!”

The captain’s sharp call made me wince, and I tore myself away from the window to join the rest of the crew in the cargo bay.

Mabel was already down there. Considering her real identity, I’d expected her to be with Rupert, but she was just standing with the rest of the crew. She wasn’t even armed. Actually, the only thing she was carrying was a small cat crate.

“You’re bringing your cat?” I blurted out.

“Of course I’m bringing her,” Mabel said, shooting me a scathing look. “I’m not going to abandon her here. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

I couldn’t answer that in present company, so I kept my mouth shut and got back to business. Since Mabel had chosen feline companionship over her gun, that left Caldswell and me as the only armed combatants. I had my usual load out, but all Caldswell had was his pearl-handled disrupter pistol, the one with two shots. That didn’t seem very useful considering I was pretty sure there were going to be a lot more than two xith’cal, but Caldswell didn’t look worried. He just stood in front of his crew, holding his ground while I checked and double-checked my suit and weapons.

After what felt like forever, I heard the unmistakable sound of a door opening. A huge one. With the screens out and no window in the cargo bay, I could only guess we’d been towed into a dock on the tribe ship itself. A minute later, my guess was proven correct when the artificial gravity grabbed us. With her thrusters dead and no one on the bridge, the Fool dropped like a stone, knocking everyone except myself and the symbionts to the ground as the ship crashed onto the floor. We were still being towed, though, and we scraped along the metal for several seconds before jerking to a stop.

While the rest of the crew picked themselves up, Caldswell motioned me over. I moved to stand beside him, but he motioned me closer still. Scowling, I leaned right into his face. “What?”

“Remove your helmet,” the captain whispered.

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“If I tell you, it won’t look real,” he said. “Just do it. You can put it on again as soon as this is done.”

The idea of facing a tribe ship with no cameras and nothing to protect my head made me panicky, but as I opened my mouth to tell the captain no, I realized I could hear xith’cal gathering on the other side of the cargo bay door. Lots of xith’cal. Way more than I could ever shoot before they took me down. I glanced back at Caldswell, but he was just standing there, looking at me with growing impatience.

With a long sigh, I reached up and popped my helmet. I didn’t remove it completely, just hinged it back so it was hanging behind me, but that was still enough to make me feel like an exposed moron. I didn’t know any other word to describe a merc who removed her helmet seconds before an attack. I did it, though, because if my months on Caldswell’s Fool had taught me anything, it was that the captain was a sneaky bastard. There was no way we were gunning down an entire tribe ship anyway, so I had nothing to lose by putting myself in Caldswell’s hands. Except my head, of course.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I muttered.

“Just hold still and keep your hands off your guns,” Caldswell said quietly, nodding for Mabel to open the cargo bay door. “And whatever you do, don’t say a word.”

That was not reassuring final advice, but it was too late now. Mabel had already unhooked the counterweight, starting the cargo bay’s unpowered door rolling up toward the ceiling. As the metal barrier rose, Caldswell put his hands out in front of him, away from his gun. I kept mine clear as well, though it nearly killed me once I saw what was on the other side.

A sea of xith’cal was waiting for us. I’d never seen so many lizards in one place before, not even on the ghost ship. There had to be thousands of them packed into the cavernous landing bay, swarming the warship that had dragged us in like ants on a carcass.

They’d swarmed us, too. There were xith’cal on our ramp, xith’cal on top of the Fool’s flat roof, xith’cal putting out the electrical fires that had sprung up on our busted hyperdrive coil now that there was oxygen. There were so many xith’cal they started swimming together in my vision, but not before I’d noted that every single one was armed to the teeth and pointing their weapons at us.

At the front of the pack, though, one xith’cal was different. I now recognized the small bright-green lizard as a female, and though she was dwarfed by the males around her, she was clearly in charge. Like the Highest Guide back on the asteroid, she had a human slave on a chain. It was a middle-aged woman this time, probably another interpreter, but she didn’t get a chance to interpret anything. The Fool’s ramp was barely half down before the female xith’cal sniffed deep and jumped back with a metallic shriek.

Something nudged me from behind, and both Caldswell and I looked to see Hyrek’s handset held out between us.

She is screaming that you are the plague, it read.

Caldswell nodded and looked at me. “Ready?”

I frowned. “Ready for wha—”

Before I could finish, Caldswell’s arm was around my throat and his gun was pressed against my temple.

I jumped on instinct, but Caldswell’s arm clamped down tighter, holding me still. “Easy, Morris,” he whispered. “Just roll with it.”

I do not roll with guns pointed at my head unless I’m the one holding the trigger, but as much as I hated it, Caldswell’s ploy seemed to be working. Down in the crowd, the female’s shriek cut off like it had been chopped with a knife. In its place, the air filled with the click of claws on triggers as the whole room prepared to fire, and I gave myself up for dead. But before a single shot could go off, the female held up her hand and barked a command. Beside her, the human slave stepped forward.

“Do not shoot, Brian Caldswell, sworn prey of Reaper,” the woman said, her voice shaking in terror. “Step away from the plague bearer.”

“Hyrek,” Caldswell said quietly.

Our lizard nodded and stepped forward, standing beside his captain much as the human slave stood by her xith’cal master. When he was in place, Caldswell lifted his chin. “Flesh of Reaper,” he said, his captain’s voice filling the room. “I have brought the woman as demanded. Call off the siege of Montblanc or I will kill her right here.”

I nearly choked. Logically, I knew this had to be a bluff, but the captain didn’t sound like he was bluffing. He sounded deadly serious, emphasis on the deadly.

Hyrek lifted his own snout and started to speak. I hadn’t actually heard our xith’cal speak much, and the effect was surprising. His voice was deeper than the female’s but clearly not male. It was its own thing, and the xith’cal reacted, hissing and snarling. Even the female bared her small fangs when she replied, and though her words sounded like spent bullet casings going through a shredder, there was no mistaking the scorn in them.

“What insult is this?” the slave woman said, completely failing to replicate the haughty disdain of her mistress’s voice. “You bring a child to lay down terms to the great Reaper?”

Hyrek looked at the captain, but Caldswell only narrowed his eyes and tapped his finger on the trigger. The female xith’cal winced at the motion, and the huge male beside her leaned down to hiss something in her ear. The female shook her head and began speaking again.

“Your terms are accepted, sworn prey,” the human slave woman translated. “We shall allow the weak planet to live. Now, give us Stoneclaw’s weapon.”

“I’m not done yet,” Caldswell said, wedging the gun harder against my temple. “I also want a guarantee of safe passage for my crew and my ship.”

This time, the female didn’t even wait for Hyrek to translate before giving her answer with a squeal so sharp it made my ears ring.

“You are sworn prey,” her slave said haughtily. “There can be no escape for you. The great Reaper will eat your flesh this day in glory.”

“I never said me,” Caldswell replied. “I said my ship and my crew.”

As he spoke, the hard pressure of the pistol’s muzzle vanished from my head. I blinked in surprise and turned just in time to see Caldswell step back and press the gun against his own temple.