The tinny shot rang in Kalie’s ears, and her cheek burned from the laser’s searing heat. That was too close. Way too close.
Vega dusted off her filthy black uniform. “Four.”
“Three.” Wells jerked his head towards Krii’s corpse. “But he counts as two.”
Kalie gawked at them. They were comparing kills. Wonderful. She’d traded legionnaires for people who made a game out of murder.
Vega scoffed. “Yes, but I saved her, so that’s an extra?—”
Alarms whined. Pain jolted through Kalie’s skull, and she clapped her hands to her ears. Vega’s grin slid away as Wells’s expression hardened.
“We need to get out of here.” Vega grabbed a device from her pocket, a thick piece of metal resembling a remote. “I’ll take you one at a time. Grab my hand. You’ll go first.”
Kalie tensed. “Go where?”
Vega snatched her arm, and nausea crashed over Kalie as she lurched into a black void of nothingness. Panic crushed her lungs. Vega floated beside her, rigid, her lips set in a flat line. Arcs of color sprang to life and danced around them. Whistling wind rushed against Kalie’s skin, but all she could focus on was the pure terror coursing through her veins.
Bile lurched into her mouth. Within seconds, it was over.
Stargate Route 219, Sector 7
Decemmensis-9, 817 cycles A.F.C.
Pain joltedthrough Kalie’s bones as she slammed into the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of her. Gasping, she rolled over. Patched leather couches, a low table, a dusty holoprojector—everything was shaking. The holopad sitting on top of the projector wobbled closer to the edge. Tremors ran along the steel floor, vibrating through her, and as the ship lurched violently, the holopad fell and cracked. Kalie winced, but roaring thrusters drowned out the clatter.
Thrusters. She was on a ship.
Kalie pushed herself up, but before she could ask, Vega’s skin glowed golden and she disappeared.
She was using a transporter.
Kalie gaped at the spot where she’d disappeared. Prototypes had been around for a few cycles, but the technology hadn’t hit the market yet. Even Aunt Calida hadn’t been able to gether hands on one.
A legionnaire wouldn’t have that sort of tech. A legionnaire wouldn’t have shot Admiral Krii either, yet he’d known her by name.
Heavy metal footfalls thudded behind her.
Kalie spun, and her eyes widened. A humanoid aibot that appeared to be held together by its sheer force of will stood behind her, clutching a pulser in its spindly arm.
The pulser was pointing at her head.
“Intruder,” the aibot drawled, in a monotone voice. “Identify yourself or be destroyed. Five… four… one!”
“Wait! Don’t shoot!” Kalie yelped, raising her hands. There was a door on her right. Close, but not close enough. “I’m Princessa Kalista Hannover. Some woman transported me here. Vega—Vega, right? She brought me?—”
Vega popped into existence next to Kalie, swearing like a drunken smuggler. Wells dropped to the floor at her feet.
“Get us out of here, Cybel,” Vega gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
The aibot lowered its pulser and marched across the cabin. Kalie breathed in the sterile scent of metal.
Then the sight caught up with her.
Wells was gasping. He clutched at his arm as blood bubbled between his fingers.
Vega staggered across the room and braced herself against the wall.
Burgundy box braids rippled across her head, replacing her glossy black curls. She groaned and strained, clutching a pipe that spanned the wall, and Kalie’s mouth fell open as Vegagrew. Her rapid panting turned into muted cries as her lithe figure morphed into a tall, muscular woman.
