Trevon widened his eyes at Nessa, and she stumbled backward. Elektra grabbed her forearm and steadied her. Trevon spilled his steaming liquid on the floor and dropped the container.
“Jamison,” he said slowly. “Did you get the alien out?”
“Nah,” he denied. “She did that herself. No point in trying to put her back.”
He looked at his father.
“She has the passcode, and she has our protection.”
Trevon sat back, muttering, “I’m going to get in trouble for this, son.”
The kids and Nessa tightened the huddle.
“In my hearts I always felt a connection to the elder race,” Nessa confessed. “Even though I’d never met any of you, and our history learning is messed up.”
“What do you want from us?” Eklun questioned.
Nessa wrung her hands and said, “I need your help. We need a new trading alliance before my people starve and suffer. We’re pretty much running on rations right now.”
The elder race members conferred with each other, but without using words.
“It’s not our place to establish,” Elektra admitted. “We look like the humans--so we’ve lived in harmony--but we are not humans.”
“Humans are usually hostile to outsiders,” Skyla added, “even though they’re constantly trying to make contact with beings from other worlds.”
“What can you do?” Nessa interrogated. “We’re in a crisis.”
Scion joined the conversation.
“Our ship is on stealth mode outside. It’s a home ship. We have enough nourishment packets to feed a small army. Our parents and other adults brought us, and then died off.”
“Most importantly,” Eklun weighed in, “we can teach your people to care for themselves so they don’t have to depend on outside worlds.”