There was a shuffling noise in front of her. Someone moving around. Park stopped, closed her mouth, and strained to listen.

Suddenly a shape resolved itself before her in the darkness. A human shape, tall and still, assessing her. Park had to choke down a scream. She came to a dead stop, waiting, unsure if it was an android or a crewmember—or something else.

Then: “Park.” A familiar voice, to Park’s short-lived relief. Sagara’s voice.

“Captain Sagara?” She hated that she used his official title. It was a fear reflex, she told herself. She wanted an authority figure.

He clicked on a small utility light. Park closed her eyes against the sudden glare, but before she did she caught a glimpse of his dark hair, his fine-boned face looking damply unimpressed. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “I got turned around. Lost. My inlays seem to be malfunctioning.”

“So are everybody’s.” He frowned at her. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask her why. “Are you? Why did you come down here?”

“Fulbreech said you went off somewhere.” Sagara sounded annoyed. “Everyone else is accounted for. You weren’t in your bunk, so I went looking for you. Why did you leave the medical bay?”

“I was hungry,” she told him, biting back a defensive tone. The exchange calmed her, somewhat; it was familiar, almost comforting. It made her forget to be afraid. “Is that a crime? To need food?”

“You should have told me. You left Hunter unguarded.”

“I left three androids with her.”

“They weren’t there when I checked.”

“I assumed as much. I don’t know where they’ve gone. Hunter—?”

“Sedated, for now,” he said darkly, switching his light to his other hand. “I’ve left her in Chanur’s care.”

She made an exclamation, shielding her eyes against the beam. “She’s as good as frozen, then!”

“Maybe,” he snapped. “But it’s not as if I had a choice. Who else was going to go looking for you?”

“Oh,” Park said. She cleared her throat and tried to bank the sudden ember of shame in her stomach. “I see. That is . . . unfortunate.”

Sagara was silent for a moment, gazing at her. Finally he turned his back on her, and for a horrible moment Park thought he was going to leave her there. “Hold onto my belt,” he said, his voice now stiff and toneless.

She didn’t want to touch him. But he had the light, and seemed to know his way back to the others; what other choice did she have? So she reached out and slipped her fingers under his belt, following him as he walked back into the dark. There was surprising heat trapped there, rather than the chill she had been expecting. So he was human, after all.

“Thank you,” she said as they walked along. She tried to calm her heart’s clamoring—afraid that he might pick up on it, like some kind of night-hunting predator.