Prologue
Cristox
I wiped the sweat from my brow for the third time in as many minutes, cursing under my breath as another wave of humid air rolled across the sprawling wetlands.
Planet Kwado.
Of all the godforsaken worlds in the outer rim, my cousin Siemba had to send me here. The amphibian Kwado thrived in this soup of moisture and heat, but for a Stranac, with our thick pelts and manes, every breath felt like drowning in warm bathwater.
I crouched behind a cluster of thick-trunked swamp trees, roots tangled in the murky water stretching endlessly in every direction. Through my optical enhancer, I could just make out the Baron's compound in the distance. A series of elegant structures rising from the swamp, the curved architecture mimicking the natural flow of water. Baron Oappo had built himself quite the palace here, far from prying eyes and the oversight of the Alliance Council.
My cousin Siemba, head of Asad Intelligence, had promised the mission would be straightforward. The parameters were clear. Gather evidence that Baron Oappo and his mate Ordeesia were keeping human slaves. Rumors had been circulating through intelligence channels for months, butrumors weren't enough. The Alliance Council needed proof, and I was here to get it.
I adjusted my position, my leather boots sinking slightly into the waterlogged ground. The air lay thick with the chirping and croaking of native fauna, the deep-throated symphony of a world ruled by water. Somewhere in that compound, behind those ornate walls, humans were supposedly being held against their will, forced to serve as sex slaves... or worse. The thought made my jaw tighten. I'd infiltrated smuggling rings, weapons dealers, and corrupt politicians, but slavers occupied a special place in my contempt.
As the twin suns of Kwado began their slow descent toward the horizon, casting the swamp in shades of amber and crimson, I prepared for nightfall. That's when I'd make my move, slipping past the Baron's security and into the heart of the compound. I just had to survive a few more hours in this miserable, sweltering hellhole first.
The temperature barely dropped as darkness fell. If anything, the humidity seemed to intensify, the air growing thicker with nocturnal insects emerging in thick clouds. I settled against one of the massive swamp trees, trying to ignore the fetid smell rising from its bark—a mix of rotting vegetation and something acidic that burned my nostrils. Everything on this damned planet reeked. The water, the air, the trees. Even the mud had its own particular brand of stench.
I'd worked with Kwado before. Disgusting species, but most were decent enough—efficient traders, skilled engineers, surprisingly good at navigation. But Oappo and Ordeesia weren't most Kwado. They were hedonists of the worst variety, the kind who believed their wealth and status entitled them to indulge every twisted desire that crossed their minds. Gambling, drugs, exotic delicacies harvested from endangered species—none of it satisfied them anymore. So they'd movedon to sentient beings. Humans, specifically, with their strange, delicate appeal.
The compound wasn't just a mansion. It was an entire estate. Six or seven buildings arranged in a rough circle, connected by elevated walkways that arched gracefully over manicured water gardens. Even from this distance, I could make out the shimmer of rare and expensive bioluminescent plants floating on the surface, mixed with remnants of flora and garish sculptures. Kwado loved their gardens. Beauty and decay, all mixed together.
My eyes tracked to the center structure. Smaller than the others, windowless, with walls that my scanner read as reinforced durasteel beneath the decorative facade. Four guards stood at the entrance, rotating in pairs every four hours according to the surveillance I'd run over the past two days. The fun room, as Siemba's intelligence report delicately termed it. If humans were being kept anywhere in this soggy paradise, they'd be in there.
The guards didn't concern me. Kwado were soft—literally. Their amphibious bodies had all the structural integrity of overripe fruit. No bones to speak of, just cartilage and water—saturated flesh held together by rubbery skin. I'd watched a Kwado take a punch once. The poor bastard's face had rippled like a pond, and he'd collapsed in a heap, unconscious before he hit the ground.
We Stranac were different. Warriors forged in the volcanic wastelands of Arslan Prime, where survival meant strength and strength meant everything. Our ancestors had been apex predators before we'd evolved intelligence, and that legacy endured in every molecule of our DNA. Dense muscle, reinforced skeletal structure, sharp claws and teeth, reflexes honed by millennia of hunting prey that actually fought back.
I settled into position, watching as the twin suns disappeared below the horizon. The humidity was murder on my gear, but I'd dealt with worse. Patience was part of the job—had been since my first assignment a dozen rotations ago. You learned to wait, or you learned to die. Simple as that.
The compound's lighting system activated as dusk fell, soft bioluminescent strips tracing the pathways between buildings. Aesthetic, but tactically stupid. The lights created predictable shadow zones, blind spots where the decorative foliage blocked the glow. I'd already mapped three viable approaches, each one threading through those dark patches like a needle through cloth.
My scanner picked up the guards' heat signatures, their cool amphibious bodies barely registering against the warm evening air. Creatures of habit, the Kwado. Same patrol patterns, same timing, same lazy confidence that came from never expecting trouble.
Then, movement caught my eye—eastern garden, near the compound's edge. I zoomed my optics, focusing on the disturbance. A figure moved between the twisted sculptures, hunched and furtive. Too small to be Kwado, wrong body shape entirely. Bipedal, but the gait was off, hesitant. The figure stumbled, caught itself against one of those grotesque statues depicting Oappo and Ordeesia fucking some six-legged creature, then continued toward the perimeter wall.
A human female. The size was right, and no Kwado moved like that—all jerky uncertainty and fear. This human was trying to escape.
I expected her to hit the wall and panic, maybe make enough noise to draw the guards. Instead, she dropped to her knees and disappeared into the dense foliage hugging the perimeter.
Through my optics, I tracked her heat signature as she crawled through the undergrowth. The foliage was thicker here than elsewhere, ornamental shrubbery the Kwado planted to make their prison resemble paradise. Broad leaves, tangled vines, enough cover to hide a body if you knew how to use it.
She moved parallel to the wall, staying low, her path taking her away from the nearest guard station. Smart. The bioluminescent lights didn't penetrate this deep into the vegetation, and the Kwado's vision would struggle to pick her out against the warm soil and decaying plant matter.
I adjusted my position, keeping her in sight. She paused, pressed herself flat against the ground as a guard passed on the pathway above. Waited. Then moved again, faster now, crawling toward the northeastern corner where the wall met the natural rock formation that bordered the compound.
She'd been here long enough to learn the landscape. Long enough to map the blind spots. Long enough to know that this corner had a weakness. Too long.
She pulled herself up against the rock face and started climbing.
Shit!
My infiltration window was closing. Another twenty minutes, and the guard rotation would shift, sealing off my entry point until the next cycle.
But this human was going to get herself killed.
The boulders were treacherous, even in daylight. I watched her pull herself up another meter. Her fingers found holds in the dark like she could see them, her body moving with the kind of confidence that came from training or desperation or both. But earlier today, I'd spotted pressure sensors at the top—small explosive devices spaced erratically. She couldn't see them in the darkness, and if she didn't know about them...
