Civilians

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“THEY BROUGHT THEIR slaves with them, eh?”

“Yes, sir—from a dozen different species, at least.” Major Dromio laid a stack of reconnaissance pictures on the desk in front of Admiral Vancouver. “Our Khalia have been busy boys.”

The admiral nodded, his mouth a grim line. “Pirates have always taken prisoners for slaves. Well, we won’t add ourselves to their trophy case.” He frowned down at the reconnaissance pictures, each one showing a clothes-wearing animal tagging along after a Khalia. “The scout made it back in one piece?”

“Yes, sir. If they found out he was there, they didn’t even try to do anything about it. Not a single shot.”

The admiral nodded. “Well, we can’t be sure. That might have alerted them, and they might be waiting to sucker us in. When we hit, we’ll hit fast, Dromio.” He pointed at one of the pictures. “This one here?”

“Yes, sir. The computer analyzed all the pictures and found slaves of this race in ninety-three percent of them—ninety-eight percent of all the ones that had sentient beings in them. There are more of them than of all the other slave species put together—22.7 times more, the computer says.”

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