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presence was no longer necessary, he knew he’d overstepped a few invisible boundaries. His need was showing.
    “Uh … I’d … I’d better get back to the bridge,” he loudly affirmed.
    “I’ll relay any changes in her condition,” Gemma said as she grinned up at him. “If she looks so good lying there with a big laser hole in ’er, I’m sure she’ll clean up
quite
prettily.”
    He squared his shoulders and glared down at the med-tech.
    Good-natured snickers at his discomfort made their way around the space.
    “That’s of little to no consequence to me!” he declared, a little too forcibly. “Just … just do what you can to help her. I’ll speak with you about your lack of decorum later!”
    He quickly turned and strode away.
    • • •
    Hours later, Darius ran one hand across the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders in weariness. Since the bridge crew had no immediate need of him or his second-in-command, he and Barst walked to the detainment section. When they got there, they mutually considered their prisoner. Goll was quite thoroughly contained in the stasis cell before them.
    “You need to rest,” Barst recommended. “It’s been many hours since we left Earth and you haven’t taken a break.”
    Darius stared through the icy-looking clear pane of the unit. Through it Goll appeared even more gruesome than when he’d been awake. Hatred for his captive rose within him like morbid pestilence.
    Goll couldn’t see, hear, or move. He wouldn’t need to be fed or removed from the cell for any reason, not until they landed back on Luster. That was the advantage of the stasis technology. A prisoner could be kept there for up to one year, without sustaining permanent injury. Yet, Darius wanted to turn the cell’s controls off, jerk the malignant creature from his cryo-slumbering state, and beat him to death with his own two hands. Nothing would have given him greater pleasure than to tear the filthy murderer apart, bone by nasty bone. Something of his thoughts must have become obvious to Barst. His second-in-command kept trying to get him away from the cell before he acted on impulse.
    “Commander, everyone in the Constellation League knows of your loss at the hands of Goll’s sire, but we’re enforcers. We must abide by the law or we become just like those we hunt.” Barst paused and waited for a response. When none came, he tried again. “We’ve been together a long time. I’d hate to see you lose your freedom and your career over
this
bottom-feeding scum. And I’d hate to have to break in another commanding officer. It’s hell on my nerves.”
    “I’ll let him live, old friend. Only long enough to see him executed on Luster,” Darius muttered.
    “There’s no doubt that will happen. He killed an ambassador, and we witnessed him destroying Earthers. The penalty for just contacting an isolation-class world is life in prison, never mind the murders.”
    “I want to be there when he dies,” Darius blurted. “Forgive my callousness but I pray it’s slower than usual.”
    “Darius, you need to rest,” Barst reiterated as he dropped his superior’s title. Perhaps you could stop by the med lab and have Gemma concoct some medication or other to help you sleep. Please, old friend … take my advice?” Barst placed his hand on the larger man’s shoulder.
    “All right. I’ll do as you recommend.” Darius turned with a sigh. “I want to see how our passenger is doing anyway. Creator only knows what I’m going to do with that one. I’ll stand before High Council for taking her.”
    “Gemma will vouch for your reasoning. The woman’s injury was caused by our prisoner. What can the admiral say? Were we supposed to let her lie there, suffering from a horrible wound before she eventually died? We certainly couldn’t kill her, and she had a class one laser wound that could have never been explained to her contemporaries. Worse, she might have been accused of something when she