Page 18 of Alien Protector's Mate

“Reav, wait!” One of his friends grabbed his arm, stopping his movement as he nodded at the braids in S’aad’s hair. “He ain’t a civilian.”

Reav’s eyes narrowed as S’aad shrugged. He folded his arms over his chest as he waited for the lad to make a decision that could ruin his day. The movement pulled his jacket, revealing the scars across his chest and abdomen.

The group’s demeanor changed immediately. Bravado gave way to uncertainty and then to poorly concealed fear. Reav’s hand dropped away from his belt, and he stepped back.

“We… we was just leaving,” Reav muttered, looking away and not meeting S’aad’s eyes. “Come on. Let’s go.”

The group melted into the crowd, casting wary glances over their shoulders. S’aad watched them go with a shake of his head. Lathar youths acting like common thugs already on the station… what the draanth had things come to?

A grateful chirping drew his attention back to the vendor. “Thank you, honored sir,” it said, trying to bow and keep eye contact with him at the same time. “Those younglings have been causing trouble for many of us for a while now.”

“No problem at all,” S’aad said with a smile. “But be careful. They might be back looking for some payback after being run off.”

“You must be careful too, sir healer!” the vendor chirped, concern in its dark eyes. “They may come after you next.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s tried to shove a knife between my ribs.” He chuckled. “Usually, my patients make the attempt.”

The vendor let out a surprised trill. “Very funny, sir healer! But truly, sir, take care. And thank you again.”

S’aad inclined his head and kept walking through the market. A frown creased his brow as he walked, searching down the pastry stall. A gang operating so boldly on the station already was a real cause for concern—one he couldn’t ignore.

He tapped his comm. “LMP Medical Technician V’Renn to station security chief, please.”

The device chirped, and then a gruff voice answered. “Z’yan here. What can I do for you, Technician V’Renn?”

“Chief,” S’aad paused by a stall to talk. “I’ve just had a run-in with some punk kids in the market. Led by a kid called Reav. I don’t know his clan name, if he or any of them have one. I think they might become trouble if left unchecked.”

Z’yan sighed heavily. “Yeah, Reav and his merry band of draanthic. We’re aware of them.”

S’aad frowned. “If you know about them, why the draanth haven’t you dealt with them? The safety of the station?—”

“Is our top priority,” Z’yan cut him off. “But it’s not that simple, Technician. These boys are orphans from the outer colonies. When they don’t have a home, the damn colonies just ship them off here. They’ve been arriving on every ship. We’re trying to rehabilitate them, not just throw them in the brig.”

S’aad’s jaw clenched. Great, just draanthing great. As if they didn’t have enough trouble keeping the human females safe, now they had hordes of hormonal teens running around the place.

“I get wanting to help, Chief, but we can’t let this slide. What about the human females in the mating program? Their safety comes first, and we can’t just keep them locked up in the LMP sector all the time.”

Silence stretched on the comm, and then Z’yan sighed. “You’re right. We’ll step up patrols in the market and keep a closer eye on Reav’s gang.”

“Thank you,” S’aad said. “The vendors here would appreciate it. V’Renn out.”

He cut the comm and, spotting the pastry stall, headed that way. Standing in front of it, he looked at the assortment and tried to figure out which ones Sadie liked. As he deliberated, movement caught his eye.

For a moment, he thought one of Reav’s gang had come back as a small figure darted between stalls. But then he realized whoever it was, they were too small. It was a human boy, barely in his teens, his clothes hanging off his frame. S’aad watched out of the corner of his eye as the boy approached the pastry stand, his movements casual.

In one smooth motion, the kid’s hand darted out, snagging a pastry and hiding it in his oversized jacket as he turned.

S’aad froze, torn between the healer who recognized desperation and the warrior who knew the law. The boy’s eyes met his before he could decide what to do.

Time slowed. Fear filled the boy’s eyes, and S’aad realized this wasn’t malice like with Reav and his gang. It was survival.

Turning back to the vendor, S’aad reached into his pocket and placed a credit chit on the counter.

“For the boy’s purchase,” he said quietly, tilting his head at the young human as he made his escape. “And a little extra for your trouble.”

The vendor, a portly thrakren with a bushy mustache, looked confused before he spotted the fleeing human. “Right you are, healer.”

S’aad’s jaw tightened as he turned around, but the boy had already vanished into the crowd.

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