One second we’re in the Esos system, and the next we’re in the Diadem system. The dual stars at the center shine brightly into the bridge, forcing all of us to shield our eyes from their intensity. We all relax as the solar screens deploy, dimming the light that filters through the screen at the front of the bridge.

“Report.”

“Life support systems at one hundred percent. No injuries,” Mydax calls out.

“Engineering reports minor damage from the blast we took when shields were down,” Vynia says. “We’ll know more soon.”

I pull my harness off and stand. “You have the bridge, Altis.”

He nods and sits in the seat I just vacated. The doors to the lift open, and I step inside. “Med bay,” I command to the ship controls.

The doors slide open to the long corridor that leads down to the bright space where Hyva and his assistants move around, running tests on the human. She’s on a table, her eyes closed, and a blanket pulled up to her shoulders. A monitor shows her life signs, none are flashing which means she’s stable, but that’s the most I can infer.

“Commander.” Hyva doesn’t look up from the tablet in his hand as he scrolls through lines of text at an impressive speed.

“How is she?”

The cut on her temple is closed, but a purple bruise has bloomed across her forehead. I move my hands behind my back, tempering the compulsion to move the lock of hair hiding part of her injury from my sight. My eyes track down her body, watching as her chest rises and falls with relaxed breaths.

“Unconscious but otherwise okay. I’ve never treated a human, so I’m cross referencing all medical texts to ensure I’m not overlooking anything. Her heart rate is normal, and her oxygen levels are good.” He finally looks up at me. “You used your gift to put her to sleep? How did she receive her head injury?”

“Yes. I strapped her to the bench seat in the transport, but even with the strap tightened all the way, she still hit the side of the ship when we took fire.”

He sends me a sharp and disapproving look, something not many would even consider doing. “Humans are much more fragile than we are.”

“I’m aware.” I look away from him and back to the female. “When will she wake?”

“I don’t know. That will depend on how she reacts to your power.”

Unease swells within me. I loathe the gift I was cursed with. Having the ability to enter another’s mind, to bend it to my will, has always left me feeling disgusted. It doesn’t stop me from using it when necessary, but it never gets easier.

“I used touch.” I frown down at the human. I’m skilled enough to not need to use touch to bend a being to my will, but at that moment I couldn’t risk her not responding immediately. Some species are more resistant or have an innate shield against my type of gift. I wasn’t sure about her.

“Could be days then. I’ll make sure she's given everything she needs to recuperate.”

“Inform me as soon as she wakes.” I hesitate to give the order, but who knows what her mental state will be when she comes to consciousness. “Restrain her in case she wakes angry.”

“Commander.” Altis’s voice crackles through the communicator on my shoulder. “You’re needed in engineering.”

“On my way,” I reply, turning to leave med bay without another word.

The red lights that line the corridor brighten marginally as I walk down the hall to this level’s engineering entrance. I walk through the doors as they slide open for me, looking around to see where our chief engineer is. A plume of steam and muttered string of curses comes from the level above me. I cross to the metal staircase and jog up to the catwalk, crossing to where I see Cuna’s legs sticking out of an opened panel in the wall.

“Cuna,” I greet them.

“Commander.” They slide out, their dark eyes locking on mine as they sit up to give me a report. “I have bad news and then really bad news.”

I drag a deep breath in. “Let me hear it.”

“The bad news is that the last blast we took hit the hull when the shields were down, it held, and there’s no structural damage.”

“And the really bad news?”

“I’m not there yet. Several of the jump drives were knocked free from their bindings.” They set their tools down on the counter. “I can’t fix them until I replace their housing, which I have none of.”

The closest trading outpost will take at least ten days to reach without jumping. And it’s on a pleasure planet, which are notoriously unsafe for humans, especially this far out in the galaxy. The species is prized for its delicacy, bodies that are soft and supple. Easy to break.

Frustration swells inside me, my senses becoming unnervingly keen as I fight to stay grounded. I’m going to need to spend the night sparring, otherwise I’ll be no use to anyone. I flex my hands to keep them from fisting.