“I should fill you in on the Silsviss? Where the hell did that come from?”“If a large, aggressive, reptilian species are joining the Confederation ...” One foot pressed against the edge of the control panel, Presit rocked the pilot’s chair back and forth. Unlike the chair in the Promise, the pivot point was mercifully silent. “. . . I are thinking smaller mammalian species are wanting to know about it.”She had a point, Torin acknowledged. On Silsviss, small mammalian species were considered snacks. “Well, you’re out of luck because I can’t talk about them.”“Can’t or won’t.”“Both.” Sitting up, Torin scraped a clump of silver-tipped fur off the blanket and wondered just why she’d agreed to have Presit come along. They’d established beyond a doubt that the reporter was Craig’s friend, but she wasn’t Torin’s. No more than Torin was hers.The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Faulty logic from a military point of view, where nothing prevented the enemy of an enemy from also being an enemy, but Torin supposed it worked in this instance.
