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  “What…who are you?” she croaked.

  In an attempt to show he meant no harm; he bowed his head. He keyed another sentence into his chronograph. “My name is Fox. What’s your name?”

  “Corri,” she answered, her voice shaking. “Where are you taking me?”

  “I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything, Corri. I can take you home if you wish, but I’ve come here looking for a slave girl named Sasha. You may have met her inside the city?”

  Her nose flared, and moisture welled in her eyes, but her breathing slowed and her shoulders sagged as she gained control. “I spent years inside the city, but I know no Sasha.”

  Fox tapped on his chronograph. “She would have arrived recently. She’s seven.”

  He summoned her picture and held it out for Corri to see.

  “I hardly remember the name of every—” She stopped, recognition registering on her face. “Actually, I think I saw this one. She looks so different, but I remember her freckles…how one front tooth is slightly bigger than the other. We work in the same linen factory.”

  “Can you tell me how to get in and where this factory is?” his chronograph computer read.

  “Do you have water?” her voice crackled.

  Fox fetched a canister from a storage box in the cockpit and brought it to her, unscrewing the lid.

  Corri regarded the canister with suspicion before accepting. She sniffed the contents, and satisfied it was safe, drank deeply.

  She glugged several mouthfuls before he put his hand on hers, signaling for her to stop. Drinking too much too soon would make her ill.

  She cleared her throat. “The city has large gates. They’re heavily defended. But I did see a smaller gate once. It only has two guards. I’ll show you on your map. I know the factory well, but not the rest of the city. I’ll do my best to point you in the right direction.”

  Fox nodded, glad he‘d listened to his gut and rescued her.

  He accepted the canister and tucked it away.

  “You’re really going inside the city to help that girl?” Corri asked, a little more life returning to her words.

  Fox tapped his response. “It’s my job.”

  He summoned the map again. Most had moved deeper into the jungle, while others still combed the swamp around Hopper. If they moved further west, they would leave the way to the city wide open.

  Going back into the jungle too soon would be suicide, and even then…

  I’ll have to time it perfectly.

  “They could talk. The lizards, I mean. I know they click a lot, but I heard a few of them speak words I understand. Why can’t you talk?”

  He tilted his head back and pulled his neck fur out of the way.

  The girl’s eyes widened. “Oh no, that looks terrible.”

  He shrugged.

  “What happened?”

  He keyed his response. “The Drahk happened. I’ll get an implant someday. But show me these things you speak of on the map. I will have to leave the ship soon.”

  He kneeled down and shared his map of the city with her.

  She pointed at the edge of the city. “I think the smaller gate was around here.”

  He zoomed in and pointed nearer to the city center.

  “The factory isn’t right in the center,” Corri said. “It’s actually not too far from the gate…maybe a few kilometers. It’s the only building in the area with a black dome and a large red sign above the main entrance. Some of the slaves run errands, though, so it might take a while before you see the girl.”

  He tapped his chronograph. “Then I’ll wait.”

  Corri stared at him, her eyes suddenly filled with panic. “Are you going to leave me here in the swamp?”

  “It’s okay,” he tapped. “Hopper will take good care of you. I won’t take that long.”

  “You promise?”

  He gave a thumbs up.

  She attempted a smile, but her mouth widened into a yawn.

  Fox fought the urge to do the same. He’d come a long way, but the longer he left Sasha in the slave city, the longer she would spend at the mercy of her slavers.

  He fetched a survival pack from a locker and emptied its contents at Corri’s feet. She unrolled the bed mat and made herself comfortable before tearing at a ration pack.

  Fox held up two fingers with one hand and pointed at the cockpit with the other. He nodded at the ramp and made a shooting motion with his arms.

  “I like this game,” Corri said with a mouthful of protein bar. “You’ll…wait a few more minutes before going outside…or they’ll shoot?”

  He tilted his hand from side to side, communicating, “more or less.”

  The woman smiled and returned to devastating her ration.

  He picked a packet off the floor, tore the corner free, and squeezed sweet gel into his mouth. He checked the charge on his blaster and was happy to find the power cells in good order.

  All being well, I’ll not need to use it again. Something told him that was too much to hope for.

  He leaned against the bulkhead and sipped more gel. Half of him wanted to climb into the cockpit and take off. The other half reminded him of the illium.

  Checking Hopper’s security displays, he told himself that the chance to speak again was worth the risk. Two Drahk waded across the display, their boots splashing into the swamp-water.

  He looked to Corri and back to the display.

  If the Drahk found Hopper, the only thing he and the woman would get would be multiple bolts of plasma.

  2

  Delta’s Fleet Games

  Kelvin Terrence pulled back on the throttle, sharply slowing his Weiler T-class starfighter. The blurred, brown smudges outside his cockpit window became solid canyon rocks once again. He angled his fighter upwards and flew out of the crevice, emerging under the hulking shadow of Starship Discovery.

  Lora’s channel pinged on his commlink. “Lieutenant Terrance, what are you doing? This is no time for messing around. Bogey one coming in hot on your six. Evade! Evade!”

  He clenched his jaw, doing his best not to swear. “Lora, I’ve got everything under control. You’re distracting me.”

  “It’s Major Goff.” Her words dripped acid. “He’s opening fire. Get out of there.”

  Kelvin slowed further and sharply banked to the left, a stream of plasma passing under his right wing. “Lieutenant Boyd is a cocky bastard. He doesn’t even have me padlocked.”

  “The player’s rulebook states—”

  “We’re in the Fleet Delta Championship, Lora,” Kelvin cut in as he dodged another round of Boyd’s fire. “No one plays by the rules.”

  Especially with so many credits at stake. Not to mention one’s reputation.

  “I’m your instructor, so I’m instructing you.” Lora’s voice rose several decibels. “Stop flat-hatting and find a way to get out of this mess.”

  “Flying is an art not a science and you can’t rush art.”

  “It’s both, you dolt.”

  The T-class shuddered as he angled the fighter into another sharp turn.

  “Do I need to remind you that you’re talking to the highest ranked Delta Fleet pilot in the academy.”

  “Need I remind you that High Command is watching.”

  His eyes flicked between the Discovery suspended above and Atticus floating several kilometers ahead. “And I’ll give them a show they’ll never forget.”

  Kelvin pulled the control stick and rolled right, dodging another line of orange plasma.

  He swiped the cockpit controls and the holographic display console projected his rear-cam feed.

  The Lieutenant Boyd’s T-Class fighter closed in, guns blazing. Boyd fired without systems targeting, and he still almost landed a hit.

  Show-off bastard. I’ll show him how it’s done.

  “Dammit, Kelvin. Pull out—”

  Beeps interrupted Lora as warning lights informed him of a weapons lock.

  Shit!

  He pushed
hard on the control stick and punched the emergency fore-thrusters—the force slamming him against his harness despite the craft’s gravity dampeners.

  Unable to decelerate on time, Boyd thundered by…just as Kelvin had planned.

  Narrowing his eyes, Kelvin slammed on his aft thrusters, the sudden acceleration almost forcing him into the seat. “I can't believe he fell for that.”

  “You got lucky,” Lora hissed.

  Boyd’s T-class looped left.

  Kelvin followed. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it.”

  “Either way, make the next shot count. Two more rotations and you’re out of ammo.”

  “Don’t worry. Admiral Dyson will watch me blow his champion out from under his own battle cruiser.”

  “Eh…” Lora said, pausing. “I doubt that. Admiral’s Dyson and Rex have just left their viewing stations.”

  “What?” Kelvin had never heard of that happening during the Games before. “Why?”

  “If you ask me, they got tired of your cheap tricks,” Lora mocked, but she didn’t sound too sure of herself.

  Kelvin almost didn’t notice Boyd drop into another crevice.

  Dammit!

  He aimed his fighter’s nose at the rocky opening and accelerated in pursuit.

  Why would Lora tell me something like that in the middle of a fight? Is she trying to make me lose? He smiled as he finally worked it out. Ah, she’s testing me.

  “You still think I can’t handle a dogfight under duress,” Kelvin said with a grin. “Well, watch this.”

  “Wait. That’s not—”

  He cut the commlink as he dipped into the ravine, red-brown walls rising to meet him on both sides. She was right. He had to make the next shot count, and he couldn’t do that with an instructor nagging in his ear.

  Boyd swayed left and right, weaving between rocky outcrops. Kelvin followed his every move, losing himself in the flow, whispering to himself as he ebbed one way or the other.

  “This Discovery flyboy is nowhere near as good as everyone claimed. Maybe he’s playing with me. Don't let him fool you, Kelvin. Just focus.”

  They rounded a bend and exploded from the ravine.

  Kelvin pulled the trigger.

  A line of blue plasma rounds sailed into the sky as Boyd barrel rolled at the last second.

  The Discovery pilot ascended into an upward loop.

  Kelvin mimicked the maneuvers, focusing on the white blaze jetting from Boyd’s boosters.

  The ascended toward the two hulking cruisers in the sky.

  Kelvin grinned. It would make for a good angle at the respective observation decks when he took the final shot. Climbing through the championship ranks, the crowds had already witnessed his brilliance. He’d come out of nowhere, taking out pilots representing various starships in the Fleet, one by one until only he and Lieutenant Boyd remained.

  It was time to take things up a notch and become the new champion.

  Boyd leveled out and Kelvin followed, holding his stick tight, trigger finger ready.

  He pushed the T-class hard, closing the distance.

  He activated his sky cannon and a low ammo warning flashed on the dash. He drew a deep breath, the air inside his helmet damp and stale.

  One more shot. Better make it count. His eyes flicked to the automatic targeting controls. No! Keep it together, Kelvin. You’ve got this.

  Switching to AT would ruin the moment, spoil the perfect ending to the most awaited fight in the history of the Games.

  He lined the T-class up with Boyd’s, almost disappointed that the jock wasn’t making more of an effort.

  He’s already accepted defeat. What a coward.

  Kelvin squeezed the trigger. An explosion rumbled in his cockpit speakers.

  “Direct hit,” his onboard flight system announced.

  “Woohoo.” Kelvin fist-pumped the air, tapping the top of the cockpit window.

  He wasted no time reconnecting Lora.

  “Did you see that?” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Easy as pie.’

  “A little too easy if you ask me.” Lora sounded uncertain.

  “Making this shit look easy is what I do.” He dismissed her concern and ignored the inkling of doubt he felt himself. “You can’t even be happy for me when I’ve won.”

  “Well done, Lieutenant,” she mocked. “And congratulations.”

  Boyd pulled his T-class next to Kelvin’s and tipped his wings, confirming his defeat.

  “The guy has good manners even if he has a high drift factor.” Kelvin smirked. “He put up a tough fight early on, but he pretty much gave us that gold medal.”

  Lora sighed. “Something tells me we’ll find out when you get back. Bring your bird in. Landing control are opening the bay doors as we speak. No doubt your buddies will be waiting for you in the hangar.”

  He angled the fighter right and flew towards starship Atticus.

  “Tonight’s party is going to be wild. I hope you come to this one.” Kelvin couldn’t think of a worse person to meet at a party, but it felt like the right thing to say. They were part of a team after all.

  “Don’t take too long,” Lora said, ignoring him. “Admiral Dyson has ordered that you meet with him before the awards ceremony.”

  His ears pricked up at that. “What? What for?”

  The speakers chirped in his ear as Lora cut their connection.

  He tried to reconnect. “Lora? Lora? Answer me dammit.”

  He punched the dash. The damn woman had a knack for spoiling his finer moments, not to mention that she always found a way to get back at him.

  He drew several deep breaths, trying to remain calm.

  What the hell have I done this time? Was my flying really that bad? Maybe they were listening in on my comms channel. Shit.

  He spluttered and cursed as the Atticus grew before him like a city-sized jagged shard.

  Lora could have given him more information.

  So much for being part of a team.

  He slowed the T-class as he approached the hangar opening and exhaled. There was nothing he could do about it now. He would have to hear what the admiral had to say and take it from there. He just hoped he didn’t spend the remainder of his time on the Atticus cleaning lavatrons with a toothbrush.

  Again, he wondered what the Admiral could possibly want, but a summoning from Dyson usually meant bad news. He pushed the thought aside as he guided the T-class through the bay opening and along the approach avenue.

  His crew would be waiting for him on the landing bay. He’d have to wear a smile, put on a happy face, or they’d think him weak…but no matter how hard he tried to ignore the Admiral’s order, it stared at him from the corner if his mind, glowering, waiting to pounce like some demon.

  Damn you, Lora.

  3

  Hunting Hunters

  Fox slowly peered out from behind a large waskani-like tree, moisture sweating from its frond leaves drizzling around him.

  He wiped dripping water out of his eyes and looked in each direction. Endless jungle stretched on in every direction, but his nose informed him that he was getting close to DR-3, the Drahk stench palpable despite the city’s dome.

  No doubt the beasts had named their planets and cities something more meaningful even if only to them, but the ASTRA star-charts this deep in Drahkonis space were incomplete.

  He hurried across the opening; the thick green moss absorbing is boot-falls. The spongy organism carpeted the jungle floor here, helping him advance silently so long as he avoided dead branches and other things that crunched under the surface.

  He crept behind fern-like bushes jutting from a cluster of rocks half-covered with lichen. Sniffing the air, he guessed he would start to see signs of the city soon. He’d slipped past the hunting party, but other Drahk likely went about their business outside the city and guards might be patrolling the perimeter. It suddenly dawned on him how foolish a task such a rescue was…even if it did mean more credits. What use was the promise of
money if he were dead?

  Fox cursed accepting the mission. It wouldn’t be his first time slipping in and out of a Drahk stronghold, but he tended to avoid such stupidity when he could. Those who ventured into such places rarely emerged again.

  Then again, the highest risks earn the highest rewards…if they didn’t get you killed first.

  He looked back in the direction he had come. Hopper was several kilometers back that way.

  It’s not too late to go back, he told himself. What if Corri messes with Hopper?

  He’d locked the ship’s controls, but there was no telling what an unsupervised human would get up to.

  He figured he could tell her that he went inside but couldn’t find her sister. That the guards caught wind of him and drove him away. That they needed to get off the planet before they found the ship.

  A Vosan who breaks a promise is a Vosan no longer. Vosans reserve deception for when it is truly needed.

  Fox clenched his teeth. Even in death, his father’s words continued to haunt him.

  He continued forth, brushing dangling purple vines out of the way as he went, his finger resting on the trigger guard. As he brushed a section of vines aside, he emerged on the edge of a low hill and the sparkling city dome a plasma blast ahead. The dome rose like a perfectly curved mountain before him, its iridescent panels shimmering between blue green and purples. An area, about ten meters wide, had been cleared and flattened around the city’s base. On the dome side of the clearing, a dirt road circled the base, narrower tracks spiraling off into the jungle at increments. Fox was glad to find that he had emerged far from the nearest track.

  The nearest entrance jutted from the dome further to his right. Several walls jutted from the structure around the entrance, blocking his view. He stepped back into the jungle and skirted the hill for a better view all the while sniffing, ensuring the Drahk couldn’t sneak up on him.

  Fox stopped. His nose picked up a particularly strong whiff of human.

  They must have recently brought in a new shipment.

  He lifted the stuffed bear to his nose and inhaled its scent. He couldn’t pick it out on the air currents. He hoped he’d be able to find the girl amidst so many slaves.