Moving with the speed that had kept him alive through countless battles, his hand closed around Wren’s throat, lifting the Plumevian until his feet dangled above the floor.
“The key,” he growled.
Wren scrabbled at his belt with two of his limbs, producing a small electronic fob. He snatched it and tossed it to Kara without releasing his grip.
“Open it.”
She quickly unlocked the cage, but the child remained pressed against the back, clearly terrified.
“It’s all right,” Kara said softly. “We won’t hurt you.”
Rory made a gentle humming sound and extended his hand, palm up, toward the cage opening. The girl stared at him, then at Kara, then at Thraxar still holding Wren against the wall.
“She doesn’t understand your language,” Wren gasped.
He tightened his grip slightly. “Then how have you been communicating with her?”
“Translation device,” Wren wheezed, pointing to a shelf with his lower right limb.
Kara retrieved a small silver disc. “How does it work?”
“Press the center,” Wren managed. “Speak, and it translates.”
Kara activated the device and held it toward the cage. “We’re here to help you. You’re safe now.”
The disc emitted a series of musical tones. The girl’s eyes widened, and she responded with similar sounds.
“She asks if we’re taking her to her new owners,” the device translated.
Kara’s face hardened. “No. We’re taking you home.”
More musical tones, then: “I can’t go home. The blue man said my family sold me.”
Thraxar slammed Wren harder against the wall. “Is that true?”
“Not exactly,” the Plumevian admitted. “She was taken from a refugee transport. Her family is probably dead.”
Kara knelt before the cage. “We’ll help you find your people. But first, will you come out of there? No one is going to hurt you anymore.”
After the translation, the girl hesitantly crawled forward. Rory remained perfectly still, hand extended. When she reached the cage opening, she cautiously placed her small blue hand in his.
The simple trust of the gesture made something in Thraxar’s chest constrict painfully.
“What now, Captain?” Wren asked, his voice strained. “Surely we can come to some arrangement? I could offer you a substantial discount?—”
“Silence,” he growled. “You have two choices. I can deliver you to the Patrol for child trafficking, or?—”
“No! Please, not the Patrol! They’ll execute me!”
“Or,” he continued, “you can provide me with complete information on the Vedeckian trafficking network, free of charge, and never engage in sentient trafficking again.”
“The information! Gladly! And I swear on my ancestors, never again!”
He released him, and the Plumevian collapsed to the floor. “If I discover you’ve broken that oath, there will be nowhere in this galaxy you can hide from me.”
Wren nodded frantically. “Understood, Captain. Completely understood.”
He turned to Kara, who was watching the interaction between Rory and the alien child. They were sitting together now, Rory showing her how to arrange some small objects he’d pulled from his pocket.