Alexia Under gritted her teeth as the electrodes were applied to the exterior of her suit once again. She fought the urge to scream, but a squeak came out.

Being a Negotiator was supposed to be the safest of all occupations. No one was supposed to be able to get anything into her suit. Supposed to was becoming a really old phrase for her.

“It is simple, Negotiator Under. Merely sign the contracts that allow us access through Nyal space and this can all stop.” The voice was hissed and it came to her via the sensory systems in her suit.

The language was one of the hundreds downloaded directly into her mind, along with their laws and trade sanctions.

Alexia was the prime Negotiator for the Nyal, and she had a lot of clout, but after being kidnapped and tortured for a week, she was feeling a little delicate. Her suit had two weeks of nutrients left in it, but she was unsure that she could make it that long.

The shocks came again, and she thankfully blacked out. They would still be there when she woke up, she was sure. They always were.

* * * *

Guardian Winger looked at his companions. “So, how are we going in?”

Pulse smiled. “I am going to take out the main systems and jack the doors open.”

Captain Strike nodded. “I will fire at these areas around the base.”

The projection rotated and Theory blinked. “Winger needs to fly in and get her out. I hope you have been working out, that armour is not light.”

Winger nodded, bemused as always that he had been a pariah in his own system, but in Nyal space, he could be a hero and change one life at a time. Today, he was on a mission to find an armoured Negotiator and get her out alive.

The Guardian project offered him a chance to use the wings that every Enjel had and enhancements that made him stronger and faster than any of his people.

“Can she get healing when we get her out?”

Patches shook his head. “Not if she is in the suit.”

Damn. They all knew that if she was in the possession of the Drafu, she was not going to be in good shape.

Winger asked, “When do we go?”

“The moon is rising, so we leave an hour before dawn. Those bastards hate the dawn.” Strike blinked both sets of lids and flexed his fingers.

Winger paced in the cloaked ship and waited. To fly off their world was unusual. Whiccin was a charming place with a delightful populace that appreciated their Guardians. Finding this Negotiator was a matter of urgency. She held the keys to an entire system’s government in her hands, and they needed either to retrieve her or to kill her. It was just that simple. They needed her out of Drafu hands, dead or alive.

Winger was going to make sure it was alive. He wanted no more blood on his hands.