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After we'd strapped in those cases who were near-critical and prepped them for removal,

Jonak told me he was going to look for the Angel, and that I should take the casualties

to our own ship and stay there. It was a perfectly sensible idea: Someone had to tend

to the wounded and, if something went wrong, be ready to make a getaway. Everyone else

on the caravan was in good enough shape to live but not good enough to defend

themselves if some pirate started wreaking havoc. And besides, Jonak had a lot more

combat training.

I kept the criticals conscious as I shuttled them through the tube back to our ship. It

would make the ride more unpleasant for them, but until I could get them into our sick

bays and do a more thorough scan, I couldn't risk having them slip into a coma. I kept

up a gently rolling dialogue all the way, asking them about their trip here, and

keeping their minds off things as much as I could.

They told me things I already knew, that they were an Ammatar caravan that had gone to

the border of Angel space for some strange business. I nodded and hummed and encouraged

them to keep talking, trying to judge their state by the strength in their voices. It

was a secret mission, so the Ammatar corp they belonged to had washed its hands of them

beforehand. If they landed in trouble, they'd be on their own. Their Ammatar employers

had heard that the Angels had been making deep-space incursions into hereto unexamined

pockets of space and digging up various items, including some that might prove of

marked value in the future. The Ammatars didn't particularly know what these items

were, and had little interest in any particular ones, but they wanted to strengthen

their illicit trading ties to the Angels just in case they could reap some profits or

get first dibs on lucrative offers. That was why, I realized, they hadn't sent out an

emergency call to their company, but only to the Sisters.

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