It was the almost idealism that Lucien had which won them over. Theyâd been abandoned by their squadron, alone, and the VIth had found them. But they had intelligence, and unfortunately - the cohortâs position.
âWe offered them service,â the kir said low, one of the few times he seemed willing to address or speak up against what they had been doing. Â
âThey have none to give,â was the reply finally, the tone affronted that the kir had questioned. Then a slight smile, turning to the engineer.  âBut it shouldnât be a cold death, no?â The pistol was turned, offered with the implicit message that the man smiled to see Lucien got.  âItâs better when you see a friendly face, first.â
The gun wasnât hidden - what engineer worth their salt didnât have a weapon on hand when they were in dangerous, hostile territory? Lucienâs smile was stiffer, a little bit, enough that the miqoâte seemed just a little bit worried, a little curious. The miqoâte started to look surprised when Lucien drew the pistol but there wasnât much time for it, because Luc was close enough that the shot was almost point-blank. Â
The miqoâte crumpled, and Luc turned back, walking as easily to hand the pistol back as heâd done to fire the shot, stopping at the almost polite hand on his shoulder. Â
âTheyâd refused, though, kir Korbinius. We agreed for release but the area is too dangerous and their affiliates wouldnât have allowed them back after so long, not without making them give up us.â
It was surcease, apologetic - and probably honest. It didnât help much.