unlace them. “These boots are soaking wet. She should have been taken to the med bay for a proper exam before she was dragged in here.” He clicked his teeth when he peeled off the first sopping wet sock. “She’s going to end up with trench foot if we’re not careful.”
“She’s a prisoner, sir,” Torment pointed out unhelpfully. “Savage has her on extreme restrictions because of the charges against her.”
“There’s no restriction against providing medical care to any prisoner,” Orion replied tautly. “You can pull that shit with someone else but not me. This is my ship, and I set the rules. Shadow Force will never again deny any prisoner medical care. Is that understood?”
Torment nodded. “Sir.”
Orion held her gaze, staring up at her from his crouched position, and seemed to be studying her face for something. Eventually, the admiral called out, "Noble!”
The admiral’s executive officer stepped through the door. Noble came from the same home planet as Terror. They had the same dark hair and dark eyes, but Noble was considerably taller, similar to Orion in build. A no-nonsense man who had an incredible sense of duty and honor, Noble was one of the few men he trusted with Maisie.
“Sir?” Noble stood at attention.
“Take this woman to medical. Risk is the only medical officer I want touching or treating her. Am I clear?”
“Crystal, sir,” Noble confirmed. “And if Risk isn’t on shift?”
“Bring her to my office. We’ll have Able brought over from the Mercy.”
“Understood.”
“After she’s treated, make sure she’s fed a hot meal. Whatever she wants,” Orion said with surprising indulgence. “Keep her under guard, but only use men you trust.”
“Done, sir.”
Orion helped Maisie stand. She swayed on her first step, and Terror immediately moved toward her. She shook her head, silently telling him not to interfere again. She wasn’t angry with him, but she didn’t quite trust him anymore. Not after the way he had taken her into custody and handed her over for interrogation. As if to remind him of their conversation in the dark hallway of the Ryderwood cabin, she lifted her trembling hands and gave him the same sign he had given her.
I promise.
Desperate for her to understand that he meant to keep that vow, he repeated the hand movements. She hesitated, as if trying to decide whether or not she could ever trust him again, before nodding. Noble dwarfed her as he gently took her arm and walked her out of the interrogation room, and she glanced back at him one last time before disappearing from sight.
Apprehensive about her safety, Terror said, “She needs an easier way to communicate with us.”
“She won’t be here long enough for us to make that happen,” Orion said as he glanced around the destroyed interrogation room.
Confused by Orion’s statement, he asked, “Are you really going to let them take her?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Orion picked up the tablet Maisie had been using and scrolled up to read her replies. “The Council wants her back on Prime. Flint is demanding she be placed in his custody. I can hold them off for two or maybe three days. Anything more than that, and they’ll give me orders that I won’t be able to refuse.”
Terror’s jaw clenched. “She’s not a terrorist. Surely, Flint isn’t going to let her rot in a cell.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Orion sounded tired. “Someone has to pay the price. She’s their perfect little scapegoat, and Flint is on the outs with the power brokers on the Council. I don’t know why either so don’t ask. I only know that he was blocked from receiving top secret communiques and barred from the Council chambers.” With a loud sigh, he said, “Come with me. We need to talk about your future on this ship.”
Terror didn’t want to talk. He wanted to grab Maisie and run. He wanted to give her the freedom she had been denied her entire life. Fully aware that was nothing more than a fantasy, he grudgingly fell into step behind the admiral and shadowed him on the trek through the ship to the bridge. He noticed the gawking stares from those he passed, all of them shocked at the state of his filthy uniform and Savage’s blood splattered across his skin. He was used to people staring at him because of his scarred face or his reputation as a stone-cold killer so the attention didn’t bother him. He made sure to stare back at them, holding their gazes until they grew uncomfortable and looked