Treason was a big word for a Tofflar. Thax flipped out his slot screen, waggled his head for a minute, and tucked it away again. He glanced up at the Gannagen girl and saw her watching him with her eerie unfocused stare. To avoid that, he took out his screen again and checked it against the holostrap display on his wrist bracer.

Treason. What the banana blazes was he going to do about that. He tried to think about what Hammond would say, and a moment later stood up quickly. If there was to be another scouting party within the next twenty-four hours, he wanted to be in it.

"Quick thinking, Gannagen," he said, inadvertently looking around for the brother. The big guy was never far away. "If this is what I think it is, things have just taken a turn earlier than we thought they would."

He tucked away the slot screen, unsure if what he had said made sense, and stepped around the barrels in a determined stride.

"Wait," Challis called.

"I got this," he said and kept going before she could say anything else. She'd heard what he had, and this was above her level anyway. Thax wondered again why Chief Bosk had allowed those two on the excursion and what good they were going to be in the face of a herd of packers.

The officers' building was not far away. Thax kept to the lit portions of the streets and put a firm step in his boots, leaving all passersby with the impression that he was on duty. The spontaneity of the whole business so far was getting on his nerves, but he could work with that. It was to be expected when everything that was supposed to be coordinated over two months was suddenly forced into one week and decisions were on the fly. Just not his decisions. Thax paused, puffing out his cheeks. On that note, he should go ask Hammond to come with him, as Mackrowe had given him orders to stick close to his mentor. Orders were orders. And Hammond would go with him in a second after news like this.

He turned toward the lodges, cutting through an alley that was short enough to be safe, he supposed. And if there was one thing a Tofflar wasn't, that was afraid.

But overconfidence can blind the eyes and deafen the ears. He remembered the two little shrapnel blades in his arm bracers, but only just in time for an arm to clamp over his face and yank him back into the shadows. Thax stumbled into a backwards bear hug while a leather bracer jammed into his mouth to muffle his yell.

Thax tried to fight, but it took two seconds for him to realize that it was no good. A stone wall flattened his front, while the man behind him wrapped both of Thax's arms in his own until the young thrike patrol captain was immobilized. His mouth was free, but at the first sound of protest, his attacker shoved his arms upward hard enough to make Thax's shoulders scream, and drag the whole left side of his face eight inches down the wall.

He panted in harsh rhythm and tried to turn his thoughts back on. All that came to him was, one, it was an impressive hold, and two, it was utterly unnecessary. And it hurt like the blazes.

"I don't like spies," came a voice from somewhere behind him, but not from the one grabbing him. Thax let out a grating gasp. The other went on. "And I really, really hate traitors."

If Thax could hardly move before, that made him go completely still. Was that it, then? This night was just getting weirder.

He suddenly recognized the voice, which had been nagging his brain since it first sounded from the other side of the rain barrel. This would complicate things, as he hadn't had any doubts about the chain of command for this expedition until now. He spoke, his words a slur as he couldn't move his jaw or the left side of his mouth.

"It's not me, I promise." Then he added, the words especially hard from this position, "Director, sir."

Drunnel Haske gave a low 'Hmmm'. Then, "How much did you hear?"

Thax tried to shift, but the movement shot pain down his neck, so he stopped.

"Enough," he gritted, "to make me want to help, sir. I swear by heaven, my mother, and this old wall you've got me smooching."

At that, Lakko let out a bark of laugh. His voice, thick with scorn, spoke right in Thax's ear.

"Help? By doing what?" he snarled, tightening his grip even more. "Running off to tell everyone? Make it public? Stop the whole expedition in its tracks before it's gotten off the ground? You're too kind." At the last word, he thrust Thax sideways, just a bit, but enough to make his face scrape against the bricks a second time. The buttons on Thax's collar squealed.

"Gah! Really, man?"

The Director broke in over Thax's smothered wheeze. "You need to understand. The fewer who know about the situation, the better for everyone. Of course, you can help – but if we let you go, you'll answer to me alone from now on."

Well, crapnoodles.

Thax was quiet except for his heavy breathing.

Boots crunched in closer, and Thax felt a hand dig around in his pockets to pull out the slot screen. He bit back an expletive and tried to twist away.

"Sir! What kind of bully are you? The ones from school at least had the sense to knock me out before robbing me."

Lakko redoubled the pressure on his shoulders and Thax's knees almost gave way.

"Until we reach the maccotons, young sir," Drunnel said lightly, pausing for a moment as he tapped at the screen before tucking it away in his own pocket, "your primary task will be to report to me any behavior that exposes loyalty to a rival corporation of the FHF. Or, if you prefer…" He cleared his throat. "We can simply tie you to a horse next to me for the remainder of the trip."

Thax tightened his fists and didn't care that it hurt. He was a patrol captain, doggone it, responsible for the wellbeing of his companions over the success of the expedition. Until now, he and these men were not in any sort of disagreement. But by forcing Thax to do what he would probably have done in the first place, and pinning it down with threats, Director Haske and his Haske hound had just broken open something deep inside him. Something he didn't want to give a name to, as it sounded too much like 'revenge'. And that sort of thing was out of his league. Or so he'd been taught.

But all he said was, "Fine. Can I have my face back, sir?"

His shoulders twanged as Lakko unwound his arms, surprisingly gentle but only because Lakko was aware of the two shrapnel blades Thax still clutched between his knuckles.

Thax stepped away with affronted dignity, his face stinging.

"Impressive, Captain," he said to Lakko as soon as he was out of reach. "I mean, I'll say it. You must have been really strong when you were younger."

If Lakko was annoyed by the implications, he didn't react. Thax, as any good thrike handler would, positioned himself where he could see both men so that, as much as he hated it, his back was against the wall. By now the Haskes were only silhouettes, each blocking the light from either end of the alley. The Drunnel-shaped outline was taller and narrower, misshapen at the top by a hood, and the white glow of the confiscated slot screen showed through the fabric of his chest pocket. Thax made a move to hide the holostrap on his wrist, but instantly regretted it with both pairs of eyes on him.

The director held out a hand. "That, too."

"Oh, come on." Thax hid the arm behind his back, though the movement ached after the Lakko treatment. "What do you expect me to use instead, Director? Smoke signals?"

Drunnel sounded like he was speaking through a smile. "I'll give it back when you need it. Lak, do you mind?"

The other looming shadow took a step toward Thax, who retreated with his hands up.

"Easy." He unwound the holostrap himself and tossed it to Drunnel, as cool as anything. The threats were getting on his nerves.

The other slid it around his own wrist and pulled down the display screen to shine on his forearm. The light was dim, and against the black of the director's tunic, it hardly made a glow in that dark alley.

"Toffee, is it," Drunnel murmured. "Hammond's understudy?"

"Tofflar." Thax folded his arms, annoyed. "Rhymes with, 'I'll kick your crap in if you don't give that back eventually because it cost me a lung and a kidney', sir."

Director Haske, task manager and overseer of all progress operations of the FHF maccoton expedition, laughed.

"Deal," he said when he had gotten his breath back. "Now run along and tell Hammond your change of allegiance, so we can see if that tracking device we put on you is working properly."