Oh boy. I am about to make his day so much worse. I lean forward, rubbing my hands together. "Is now a good time to tell you guys what the cargo is?" "It's silks, right?" Straik leans forward on his desk, his hands splayed atop it. There's a desperate look on his face. "Tell me that it's silks." "Wrong," I tell him gleefully. "It's more keffing humans. A shit ton more. A hundred and thirty-two more." Straik's bellow of anger echoes down the halls.
