Milla fell silent for a moment, while Saraf just shook her head.

“This isn’t done,” the older woman said firmly. “It’s not an—”

“I’ll tell you,” Milla spoke up.

“Ithan!”

“He is right,” Milla sighed. “He has his own council to answer to; we cannot expect more than he has given us already. I will tell him how to find Ranquil.”

Saraf’s eyes widened. “You cannot.”

“What does it matter now? The Drasin have penetrated our borders. What will these people do that they won’t?” Milla snarled. “I am sorry, Titualar Saraf, but I am with the fleet, and you are not. I will give him the coordinates.”

Weston let out a low sigh as he settled back in his seat, wondering if he’d done the right thing.

Later, on the refugee decks, Milla found even more problems to consider as she tried to get the refugees to accept sedation prior to the ship’s transition.

“Why would we want to sleep?”

Milla sighed. “The technology of this ship is undoubtedly effective, but it is not pleasant. What they call ‘transition’ is…difficult to describe. Please accept my word that you would prefer not to experience it.”

While some of the people were inclined to accept Milla at her word, the majority voiced strong objections when Dr. Rame walked in with a contingent of medical personnel.

“I’m afraid the captain has ordered short-term sedation for all passengers.”

Immediately, protests were heard through the room, causing Titualar Saraf to step forward.

“I object, Docteur. You cannot drug us like this.”

Rame sighed. “We don’t have a choice, ma’am. Right now, your people outnumber our crew. We have had to completely clear most of this habitat and a sizable portion of the other decks to house your people. We don’t have sufficient security or medical personnel to deal with the effects of transition on your people.”

“If it’s that dangerous, Docteur, why do you use it?” she demanded.

“The transition drive is physically harmless. However, none of your people have been cleared psychologically, and you are unprepared for the effect it may have on your minds,” Rame told her flatly, without rancor in his voice.

Saraf was about to argue further when Weston stepped through the door into the room.

“I’m sorry, Titualar, but this is necessary.” Weston paused for a moment, considering. “I will permit you and Milla to join us on the bridge while we transition. But the rest of your people must sleep through it.”

Faced with Weston’s implacable position, Saraf and the others backed down, leaving Weston breathing much easier. An uprising among the refugees would have complicated matters incredibly. He quietly lead Milla and Saraf toward the ship’s lift, the three of them stepping aside to make way for the medical personnel.

“Why are all these medics here?” Saraf watched the men and women passing with suspicion.

“When we pump the anesthetic into the air system, they have to watch for potential allergies and the like. We want your people to sleep through the transition, but we’re not willing to risk their lives or health for it.”