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bandages left on the table, tied my hair
back, and tucked it into the back of the suit.
    Meir appraised me. “Well, hopefully they
won’t be paying too close attention.”
    I looked down and realized the uniform was a
little more than a tad big. The flexible armor plates hung off my
limbs while Meir’s fit tight against his muscles. I hadn’t realized
until just that point how massive Meir was. His long, gray beard
and defined wrinkles had given the illusion of weakness, yet out of
his loose robes and in this form-fitting uniform, Meir looked more
like a war hero than an old man.
    I took a deep breath and shrugged. “I guess
I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”
    Meir chuckled and put his hand on my back to
lead me out the door. “Come on.”
    Apparently, our uniforms were not complete.
When we got to the shipyard just outside the city limits, Meir’s
friend, Pallaton, handed us two helmets with grotesque metal faces
of snarling mouths and deep, soulless eyes. I shuddered.
    Two heads taller than me, Pallaton was about
Meir’s height, but much paler. His skin was more like a creamy
olive and his well-trimmed, black beard had been brushed into
glossy waves.
    He appraised me with grey eyes—not nearly as
friendly and welcoming as Meir’s. I put my helmet on to escape his
searching gaze. When he didn’t look away, I lowered my head and
shuffled my feet. I knew I shouldn’t have been embarrassed. With my
uniform now complete, he couldn’t see the guilt written all over my
face as if “Shadra” had been tattooed onto my skin. But I was
embarrassed, and terrified. I knew right then and there Pallaton
was not a man to be trifled with… or lied to.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Five :
    The Meridian
     
     
    Pallaton did finally look away from me, to
my great relief, when his son walked down the loading ramp of the
smaller, shinier vessel in the yard.
    Black robes billowed around the son’s
muscular form as he joined our small group. He looked very much
like his father—the same olive skin, same clear grey eyes—though
he’d kept his beard trimmed close to his face and his hair short.
His glossy curls pooled tight against his head.
    I looked away and bit my lip. This was the
first time I could ever remember being in front of someone my own
age. Something warm and altogether pleasant broiled beneath the
surface of my skin. I wondered if he would think I was pretty. Then
I remembered what I looked like—my skin was sallow from poor
nutrition and my bones jutted out at every angle. No, he wouldn’t
find me pretty at all.
    But I could pretend.
    He had two weapons in his hands that he
handed to Meir and me. I took mine and nearly dropped it, surprised
by its sheer weight. The boy scowled at me. Although that wasn’t
quite the right term—he was hardly a boy, but I needed to believe
we were equals in some way. I was by no means a woman. The Mamood
had taken that away from me when they’d chosen to have me live on
nothing but a loaf of stale bread for a whole week. I knew my
growth had been stunted. I would never recover.
    “You are lucky.” Pallaton turned his
piercing eyes back to me. “The Meridian is the only ship
permitted to leave Talia since,” he grimaced, “your escape.”
    Ah, so Meir told him I’d been a prisoner,
but Pallaton knew nothing of my being named Shadra. It was a tight
line Meir and I were walking. I’d owe him forever.
    “It is also lucky that my son, Malik,” he
gestured to the boy next to him, “will be escorting the crew of the Meridian to Soltak.”
    “We owe you many thanks, Pallaton.” Meir
squeezed his friend’s shoulder, and then put his own helmet on. I
recoiled from him, nearly forgetting it was my savior in the suit.
With the uniform now complete—the screaming face and ghostly
eyes—Meir looked like a monster.
    Malik ignored my reaction as he stepped in
front of us. “Have either of you ever handled an NK-4 assault