Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series by Ruby Lionsdrake Page A

you going to manage it? Helping you would make her a traitor. The military probably still shoots traitors.
    Makkon didn’t respond to the inner voice, but he did acknowledge that it would be much easier to knock her out with drugs until they needed her for the messages. If she were a man, he wouldn’t have any problem making that decision. If Dornic found a way into the comm system, and they could send the message without her, then none of this would be needed. He wished that mining craft they had salvaged had a way to contact the government, though even if it had, they would have needed the powerful satellite that this station used to get the signal all the way back to the core worlds.
    “Do I have something in my eye?” the woman asked, watching him warily.
    He realized he had been staring at her. Thinking perhaps his humor might appeal to her, or at least soften her attitude toward him, he hmmed and pretended to examine her eyes. As if he hadn’t already noticed everything about them, the gray-green that was more gray than green against the backdrop of her dark uniform and that a darker rim ringed her irises, giving them a striking look. “No, they’re fine.”
    She glared back at him.
    “Listen,” Makkon said, “I meant what I said. If you cooperate, I’ll make sure you’re still alive when your ships arrive.”
    “Bite my ass.” She twisted in his grip as much as she could and faced the door.
    “Well, I suppose that’s a possibility too.” A wild notion that he might somehow seduce her jumped into his brain—possibly the lower brain instead of the upper one.
    But from the tense way she stared straight ahead, she didn’t find the idea appealing. Sighing, he waved at the sensor to open the door. He walked in first to make sure his people wouldn’t twitch and fire at the sight of a soldier. Zar’s rifle pointed toward them, but he immediately lowered it.
    “Good to see you, sir.” Zar glanced at Makkon’s leg, but he didn’t say anything about it.
    Makkon gritted his teeth. He thought he’d been hiding that limp well.
    More than thirty men and women in civilian clothes sat on couches, at tables, or against the walls, all with their wrists bound behind their backs and their feet tied together. Most of them were older than forty, with at least half having gray hair. He wouldn’t dismiss anyone on age—Brax was nearly sixty and still fought like a monster—but he didn’t spot any among the scientists who looked like trouble. There were two injured soldiers sitting against the far wall under a porthole that looked out over the shuttle bay doors and the mining ship. He knew the solar storm had kept the station’s sensors from noticing its approach but almost laughed when he realized that if someone had been sitting in here, playing games and looking out the window, they would have seen everything.
    One of the soldiers was unconscious, his head lolling against his shoulder and blood smearing the floor under him. The second was also injured, one arm blown off with laser fire. His eyes were open and alert—the laser must have cauterized the wound so he hadn’t lost too much blood—but he didn’t look like he would be much trouble, either. Good. Aside from Zar, Rebek and Kumar were the only ones standing guard in the lounge. Once his team had control of all the necessary equipment on the station, and everyone had been captured, he should get more people down here. He wanted to make sure there were enough personnel to ensure his woman wouldn’t be able to plot up an escape attempt.
    When did she become your woman?
    He flicked an imaginary finger at the voice and walked the woman to a table. He could have told Zar to search and tie her, but didn’t want anyone else groping her.
    “Comm officer?” Zar asked, walking along beside him.
    “Yes.”
    Zar glanced at his leg again, probably wondering if she was the one who shot him. Fortunately, he didn’t ask. That was good, because Makkon didn’t