materials needed, and she called for a tank.
“I am going to walk you through the procedure, little soul.” Illuma gave Yimeera a tour while her mind grappled with doing surgery on an elemental Vorwing. It was the first time that one had come forward to escape.
While Yimeera was on the exam bed getting scanned, she asked, “Why do you call me little soul? ”
“It is what Yimeera means in Breethin. Are you ready to rest?”
Yimeera nodded.
“Good, when you wake, you will be in a tank. Don’t panic. Someone will be with you. Someone will always be with you.” Illuma smiled, and she meant that smile.
Yimeera clung to her hand for a moment, and then, she lay relaxed on the table. The sedative was administered and the machines went to work.
Iara watched the machines through the window in the sealed lab. “How long will it take?”
“My lab will be busy for nine days. After that, Yimeera goes in a tank and we will watch as the changes and grafts take hold.”
“Who will watch her when you sleep?”
“Bot nineteen. His name is Werker.”
Iara chuckled. “You name them?”
“I spend a lot of time up here on my own. If it moves here, it has a name.” Illuma shrugged.
“I should send up a Yaluthu for you.”
Illuma summoned one of the bots and gave it instructions to watch closely and call if there was a problem.
“Come for tea?”
Iara smiled. “I would love to.”
“I know very well that the Yaluthu choose their partners carefully. I have never come up in one of their minds, so I am content to find entertainment and companionship where I can.”
They walked to the observation deck and had tea under the stars. The bright spinning of the planets wasn’t visible, but the distant nebula cast a pink and yellow glow. It was lovely.
“Do you enjoy your work, Illuma?” Iara’s question came out of nowhere.
“I do. The people I change for assignments come back with the most marvellous tales. I am of use to those who need me, and no one can beat my skins.”
“That is true. The Sector Guard marvels at your success rate in creating stealth agents.”
“Do they want to hire me?” She chuckled. Mirth was coming easier.
“Yes.”
That word hung in the air between them as the galaxy spun above.
Two days later, Yimeera was coming along and the distant warning alarm went off. Something was approaching the station.
Illuma headed for the command deck and opened up the scanners. “Approaching vessel, identify yourself.”
There was silence for a moment, and then, a gravelly voice came through the coms. “You have what is ours.”
“This station is under the protection of the Sector Guard and Citadel. You are not authorized to approach.”
“We will take what is ours.” The harsh voice was barely understandable.
Illuma sent a distress call to Udell and Lowel before activating the incursion protocol.
The lab locked and the machines kept working; their power supply was separate from the main systems of the station.
Illuma forced her Nishan form to emerge and fill the station in a thin layer.
The bulk of the station lost its heat and power. If they were forcing themselves in, they would be attacking a dead station.
With everything ready, she waited. Citadel or Sector Guard staff would have overrides that would turn everything on. Until that happened, Illuma was guarding her station and her patient.
In the vacuum of space, she floated through her station and kept her senses alert to possibilities.
They attacked shuttle slip B and pried the doors open. The moment they opened the door, they reeled back and had to get breathers.
She waited with the patience of her mother’s people. When they ran, they had pulled a portion of her mist with them. She counted the men on the ship, and her mind filled with laughter. Two men on the ship and four men were in her station.
She thickened and blinded them, cutting off their com units as they blundered about in the station. One man tried to burn