Ow! Bastard managed to sink a fang into my forearm. Not deep enough to poison me fully, but it burns like hell.
Annoyed, I kick him hard in the throat. As he gasps, I draw two shurikens from my jacket. One lands dead center in his forehead. The other hits his jugular. Case closed.
I glance at the lynx. It's watching me, alert, ready to pounce if I make a wrong move. I turn my back, approach my last victim, retrieve my weapons, clean them, and sheathe them again. I hear the cat retreat into the forest.
All four two-seaters cleared. I could grab one and escape with Neela—but I hate sloppy work. One transport ship left, and a hangar full of "cargo," both inanimate and breathing.
No time to check on Neela. I need to strike while I have the upper hand.
I circle the main hangar and approach the transport ship. Guns drawn, I sprint up the ramp. The cargo bay’s half-filled with opaque cages—no idea what’s inside. Access to the upper deck is by ladder. I climb quickly. To the left: cockpit. To the right: four doors, one labeled restroom.
Doesn’t matter. I check them all.
A few minutes later, I’ve cleared the ship. Empty. That means the crew’s in the hangar. I hope they haven’t found their fallen comrades yet. Better to keep the surprise factor on my side.
Before entering the final building, I adjust one of my pistoblasters to stun mode. If I’m sure someone’s a smuggler, I’lluse the lethal setting. But if there’s a chance they’re a civilian, I’d rather not add innocent blood to today’s mess.
I take a long breath to steady my heartbeat—and to sniff the air. Can’t see inside, but I can hear and smell. Urak. Coffee. Sweat. Not helpful. Still… I pick up sounds. Something being moved? A cage?
I rush in and scan fast.
To the left, multiple holding cubes. Some transparent, others not. Inside, Humans—prisoners. One Penubian sits in a chair, watching them with a smug look. I shoot him without hesitation.
Three left. Two pushing a crate toward a loading rig. One guiding them. They turn when they hear the body fall—perfect. I shoot a second.
Then, a violent blow slams into my back. I’m thrown forward, guns slipping from my grasp.
Shit! Didn’t see that one coming. Must’ve been hiding in the shadows. Great. Another brawl. And it’s not even noon yet. What a crap morning.
Like earlier, the fight’s savage. I dodge a punch from the right, then land a kick. One guy lunges—bad move. I nail him with an elbow to the ribs. He squeals. Yeah, pal. Cracked ribs hurt. I’d know.
The third screams and charges headfirst. I sidestep—but not in time to dodge the fist that slams into my cheekbone.
Damn it. I’m already beat up. They’re fresh. I’m outnumbered. My confidence dips.
We keep trading hits. Sweat and blood blur my vision. My ears ring. But then—I hear a new arrival. A high-pitched whistle.
My blood runs cold.
Bully.
“Stop!” he shouts.
My former partner turned enemy stands at the hangar entrance, holding my mate in front of him, a weapon pressed to her temple.
26-Neela
I wake up slowly, tickled by Pallas’s whiskers and his soft purring. I cuddle him for a few seconds while waiting for my handsome Sadjim to come back. But after a few moments, I have to admit the truth: he’s not here.
I get dressed and step out of our shelter. He’s probably gone to hunt something for us to eat, or maybe pick some berries for me.
When I realize he’s nowhere near our camp, I start looking for him. I head toward the smugglers’ base, guessing that’s where he went. He must’ve taken advantage of me still sleeping to go scout it out.
We reach the edge of a wide clearing fairly quickly. Five small spacecraft are parked to the right. A large structure made of some strange material sits at the center. And a bigger aircraft is stationed on the left. I don’t see anyone. I don’t dare call out for Prax—it’s pretty clear that would be a terrible idea. Instead, I watch carefully from the trees, staying hidden.
A low rumble suddenly breaks the silence, and I turn my head just in time to see my very first reptilian man. With a powerful kick, he silences Pallas. My little manul collapses without a sound.
Letting out a desperate cry, I rush to his body.
