Screams erupted, and the crowd scattered.
Next to Jenna, Pelicon Mir-Barus grunted, clutching at his side. An instant later, his long body folded in on itself and her aide sank to his knees upon the pavers.
“Pelicon!” Jenna let go of the suitcase she’d been towing and dropped to a crouch next to him.
“Run, Lady Jenna!” the Nandoon wheezed, clutching at the dark, wet stain that flowered through his robes.
“Not without you.”
Chin kicking up, she realized that her bodyguards had formed a circle around her and Mir-Barus. They’d drawn laser-pistols and were firing back at the unseen assailants.
“Who’s attacking us?”
None of the security team answered.
Two of them fell, sprawling to the ground, and a scream clawed its way up Jenna’s throat.
Her aide staggered to his feet, his breathing labored. “Come … we … must—”
Pelicon Mir-Barus never finished his sentence, for a laser bolt hit him in the back. The Nandoon lurched forward, colliding with Jenna—and the pair of them went down.
Pinned under his body, she struggled to free herself. Her breathing came in pants now, fear thundering through her. Pelicon had been right. She had to run—flee like a rock-bounder.
Scrambling out from under the Nandoon on her hands and knees, she saw that three more of her bodyguards were down—their black-armored bodies spread-eagled upon the ground. Just the captain and one of his guards remained. They both had cyan-shields up—glowing blue spheres that projected from their wrist-comms—yet they wouldn’t hold off the hail of laser bolts for long.
Captain Malik and his companion were edging back, stepping over the bodies of the fallen, as they fired into the crowd—at the figures who were closing in on them.
Nothing about them identified the attackers. It was difficult to get a proper look, but it appeared they were men and women dressed just like the workers surrounding them—in well-cut tunics and pants.
The captain reached her then, grabbing Jenna by the arm, and hauling her to her feet. “Time to go.”
Chaos reigned in the plaza now, as workers fled, their screams echoing high into the sphere. In the distance, the wail of sirens cut through the din.
The plaza was rapidly clearing, making it even easier for their attackers to surround them.
An agonized cry sliced through the air as the last of Malik’s guards fell.
Now there was only Jenna and the captain left.
Malik unhooked something from his belt. He then hurled the object at their attackers and threw himself at Jenna, knocking her to the ground once more.
An explosion rocked the space station, causing the ground beneath Jenna to buck and shudder. A wave of searing heat broke over them, and then debris rained down. Jenna cringed under her bodyguard’s muscular form, her ears ringing.
Moments passed before Captain Malik climbed off her and rolled smoothly to his feet, pulling Jenna with him.
Thick dark smoke billowed around them, momentarily obscuring their surroundings. Jenna coughed as acrid dust caught in her throat. Her ears were still ringing, and she felt unsteady on her feet.
“What was that?”
“A pyro-grenade,” he replied tersely. “Come on.” With that, he took hold of her arm and hauled her after him.
Jenna stumbled as she ran. Her legs suddenly felt rubbery, as if they might give way from under her at any moment. Terror had rendered her clumsy; her feet wouldn’t seem to cooperate. After a few meters, Captain Malik was dragging her through the panicked crowd. Jenna didn’t care. She was desperate to get away from their attackers; she didn’t mind if he threw her over his shoulder, as long as he got her to safety.
Leaving the square behind, and dodging workers, who were also trying to escape, they headed between two buildings.
“Wait!” Jenna gasped, clawing at the captain’s arm. “Shouldn’t we be heading for the conference center?”
“Whoever wants us dead is blocking our way.”
