I unhook myself from the captain’s chair. "I'll only need one."
Fuck, I'm scared. Every instinct screams for me to turn around and run as the corridor around me shakes with distant blasts. Sirens scream overhead, the station lights snapping into a brutal strobe—scarlet flashing hard against the metal walls.
The smoke has thinned, just enough. Each breath still burns, but it no longer feels like I’m choking on it.
I hold the blaster, my finger on the trigger, against my cheek. I've shot some on Earth, and while I wasn't the best marksman, if you give me two or three goes, I'd normally hit the target if I was motivated.
And I'm motivated—to save Mekkra and to fucking end the slug fucker.
My heart hammers in my chest with every step closer to the sounds of fighting. There are bits of the enemy droids strewn through the hall. That fact alone might lift my spirits if not for the trail of blood alongside their mechanical corpses.
Droids don't bleed.
There's a growl, then it's muffled right before I hit the atrium in the cargo bay where the fighting seems to have ended up. I slow my pace, press myback against the wall, and peek my head around the corner.
Chaos.
Cargo containers are toppled over and broken, and sparks rain down from broken electrical conduits above. At the center of it all, Lord Quldo is slumped, his large yellow slug body surrounded by a semicircle of droids with blasters and blades drawn.
On his knees, bleeding and bruised, with his arms restrained against his back, is Mekkra.
One of his eyes is so swollen that it's shut. His weapons lie on the far side of the room, smoking and out of reach. He doesn’t meet Quldo's gaze.
"Well, the human isn't here?" He taps a tiny two-fingered hand against the side of his slimy face. "Your sacrifice seems ineffective."
Mekkra spits at the floor in front of his captor.
"If she's not with you, that's a win," my future mate says sardonically.
"She should be so lucky! I was shocked when the Deenz wouldn't let me sample such a ripe fruit. Their war with the fi'len has made them wary. They've never told me no before. And all of this headache because she was promised to some insane warlord? I told them I could take care of you, but they didn't believe me. No bother, I'll take your station, and then I'll find the human," he says in annoyance.
I can see the subtle shift in Mekkra's posture, the dead stare rolling over his eyes. His gaze quickly darts to a smoking blaster that he won't get to before the droids execute him. It would be a stupid move, it would be madness to attempt.
But we aren't mated, and I panic as I see him fall into the madness, knowing it'll get him killed.
There's a crash as another one of the cratessmashes against the floor, the last bit of its support underneath giving out.
We both know this is our chance, and I can only hope that I'm faster than Mekkra.
"Hey, fucker!" I yell as I dive into the room.
I stand, square my shoulders, and take aim.
"No!" Mekkra yells as the droids register me as a threat. As if his restraints were made of dental floss, he snaps the high-tension coil with a flex of his biceps and chest. A split second later I pull the trigger, his big furry body covering the droids that have me in their sights.
In slow motion, I watch as the bright blue beam of plasma slices through the particulate-filled air and directly between Lord Quldo's eye stalks. I can smell burning meat as it exits the back of his head.
His mouth opens a few times before he slumps forward, face-planting on Mekkra's spit.
The droids around him buffer before dropping their weapons.
"What's happening?" I ask Mekkra.
"Self-destruct protocol!" he yells before running toward me and scooping me up in his big arms. He runs until we're behind a fallen crate on the far side of the room.
He pulls me against his chest, his head resting on top of mine, protecting me. I'm glad his arms are over my ears as the blast rings through the room. I open my eyes and pull back to see his bloodied and swollen face staring down at me. He's gritting his teeth, like he's waging an internal battle. Then his eyes glaze, and he starts muttering to himself as his grip on me loosens. I realize, in that moment, that we've too waited long.
Mekkrais slipping.
