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Wren spotted a large cage at the base of the Gente’s docking ramp as they approached. Her heart raced at the sight of the ibex slumped in the bottom, and anger boiled through her veins.

“We need to hurry. That creature doesn’t have much time,” she said.

“If we sprint, we’ll pass out,” Eden said. “Take it steady. If the animal’s really that sick, there’ll be nothing we can do for it.”

Wren resisted the urge to run, being careful to keep her breathing as level as possible.

The two Gente standing by the cage watched as they approached.

Wren’s gaze traveled over them. They had no weapons, but they were still strong. Both were a head taller than her and came with muscles.

She was the first to reach the cage, her lungs tight and her vision hazy from walking too quickly in this shitty atmosphere. “I’m Wren Tulloch from the Apocalypse. Open the door. Let me see the fleur ibex.”

The Gente exchanged a glance.

“Hurry! This animal is sick.” Eden stood to Wren’s left, her gun raised. Daisy was to her right, her attention on the ship.

One of the Gente moved toward the cage.

“Is everything good?” Wren said to Eden and Daisy.

“There are more Gente inside the ship,” Daisy said.

“Are they making moves to come out?” Wren said.

“Nope. They’re just watching.”

“Eden? How’s it all looking?”

“Just peachy,” she said.

Wren addressed the Gente unlocking the cage. “Tell the rest of your crew to back off. The deal was two Gente outside when the transfer is made.”

He glanced at her, and for a second, there was amusement in his eyes. “Of course. Examine the creature.”

“Back away from the cage door.” Wren lifted her gun.

He smirked, raised his hands, and stepped back to join his colleague.

“Make sure he doesn’t try anything.” Wren nodded at Eden.

“He’s in my sweet line of sight. If he so much as breathes funny, I’ll take him out.”

Wren hunkered down and took out the medical kit from her bag. She ran a scanner over the ibex’s pale yellow neck and scrolled through the readout. It was dehydrated, malnourished, and had several open wounds on its head. “You’ve beaten this animal?”

The Gente said nothing.

“How’s it doing?” Daisy said.

“It’s unconscious. I’ll give it two shots to stabilise it. The injuries are treatable, so long as we’re quick,” Wren said.

“Where are your profiles?” one of the Gente said. “We only have one.”

“You’ll get the other two once the final animal has been transported, as per our agreement.” Wren injected the ibex, ran a check of its vital signs again, and nodded. “That’ll have to do.” She opened a comm link. “Cleo, the animal can be transported.”

“Confirmed. Get the Gente to move it to the pickup point,” Cleo said.

Wren nodded at the Gente. “You can move it. Be careful.” She waited until the animal was clear of the ship before contacting Cleo again. “Okay, all the animals have been moved.”