Captors. That word put it all into stark contrast. “We lost colonists,” Reyes said slowly. “Rebels. They were kidnapping them. I never thought—”

Because he would have fought back, if it was him in the crosshairs, with his not-inconsiderable resources at hand. He was in a good position. He had technology, a stable port, power, weaponry, and most importantly, information. They’d won the battle for the galaxy. So why the fuck was he here?

That cool facade was starting to splinter, but the smuggler took a deep breath. In, and out, counting one two three, willing his pulse to settle.

“Do the captors ever come out to interact with people? Have you seen them?” Aliens was where his mind automatically went; in his experience the most sensible and rational explanation for something like this. Some mysterious force out of the darkness of space, whisking people up and taking them away.