"And like I told you—there's no way I'm trusting any humans to work on my ship." Pallas tapped his forearm, dismissing the map. "Besides, didn't you say you wanted to do this as quickly and discreetly as possible?"
Kira spread her arms to indicate the desolate landscape. "Look around, brother dearest. Does it look like we've accomplished either of those objectives?"
They were lost. Not to mention, they were being followed.
A fact all of them were aware of but had chosen to ignore in the interest of finding out more about their trackers.
They'd picked up the first a few miles back. Since then, others had joined.
Kira counted at least six out there. She'd yet to determine whether they were hostile or simply curious. It was possible they were locals who were exercising an abundance of caution. A smart choice given the current state of the galaxy.
Or they could be part of the roving bandit clans Kira had heard plagued the planet's surface.
They usually only targeted outsiders.
And who fit that description? They did, of course.
Pallas raised his voice to speak to those using the landscape as cover. "You might as well come out. We know you're there."
The wind blew, stirring the snow and making the branches of the nearby trees creak.
"Choosing to ignore my advice?" There was a brutal twist to Pallas's lips. "Very well. You can't say you weren't warned."
By tacit agreement, Graydon and Kira put their backs to each other as they watched their surroundings.
The night stilled as they waited to see what their followers would do.
Pallas's shadow stretched, darkness pooling under him.
"Do not kill them," Kira warned.
She'd already caused enough death on this planet. She'd prefer not to add more blood to her hands.
"It amazes me how someone who experienced the same upbringing as me still manages to be so soft." Pallas looked toward the spot where Kira's senses warned her someone was hiding. "Our masters would be most disappointed in the way you turned out."
Kira glanced from the barely discernible bulge in the snow to Pallas. "I decide what I am. Not them. I refuse to be what they made me."
"I guess that's why you're you and we're the forty three."
Pallas's smile was slightly sad as the shadow under his feet swallowed him.
He vanished, reappearing an instant later right next to that bulge in the snow, sword in hand, his gaze trained on Kira. "Unlike you, we embraced what we were forced to become."
He stabbed downward.
"Pallas!" Kira screamed.
Snow exploded upward as the person underneath scrambled out of range. Pallas's insane laughter filled the air.
Kira caught a glimpse of all white cold weather gear. A pair of goggles that covered half the person's face. An antique-looking rifle in their hands.
They rolled onto their back, the rifle held up like a shield to block Pallas's next attack. A second person appeared like a ghost on Pallas's other side, their rifle pointed at his head.
Everyone froze.
"Cool trick, but I really wouldn't," a woman warned.
Despite Pallas's ability to kill both the person on the ground and the woman, he made no attempt to do so. He held still as four more people emerged out of the snowy landscape.
