“Thank you.” Her tail grazes my cheek as blue tears fill her eyes. “Lingon. His name is Lingon.”
Then she backs up and runs through the rear exit of the bar.
I down the last of my beer and check on Zariah. I want to talk to her, but after a couple of years, it’s a challenge to find the right words.
As I lean to check on her, I’m interrupted again by two federal investigators. One is human, and the other is Retterwan.
“Captain Elix, Private Security,” the human remarks. He’s a dark-skinned human with gray-brown eyes and blue tracework embedded around them. “We need your help tracking a person of interest who’s shipping illegal goods onto Terran soil.”
His left eye twitches at the wordgoods, and I know he means something else. Likely drugs. I hope he’s not talking about Zariah. “I’m not a K-9 unit.”
The Retterwan glances at his partner and blinks his double-lidded eyes. His pulse ratchets up. I can hear it with a brief focus on his neck.
“We need your skills to solve this one. Trackers have all gone silent. Our operative has gone missing.”
Zariah’s desperate shout cuts through our conversation. The feds barely throw her a glance, but I’m already on my feet, trying to push past them to find out what’s wrong.
“We don’t want to have to legally bind you,” the Retterwan says. When he shifts to reach into his pocket, I see the name on his chest.
“Look, Tenac, I’m on another mission. So unless you have a commission contract in there, I’m going to get back to my job.”
“You are obligated to help.” The human wrinkles his nose. Even he doesn’t like the words that come out of his mouth. His nametape reads Harlten. He’s calmer than Tenac but still fidgets like he’s nervous.
“I have no information for you because I’m not on that case. You are. Someone might get hurt if you don’t let me go. So all I can tell you is the onlyscentI picked up that might be what you’re looking for was on Deck Four near the medical hangars. Ididn’t think much of it because of what else they transport. But that might be a decent cover. Try there.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Tenac and the human hustle out the back door of the bar, uncaring of the fight going on at the other end.
I’m not a drug dog, you fucks.The Sol Federation agents have often tried to use my species skills since I joined. At least they compensate me. Many species don’t show restraint. They’d cage me and starve me, force me to work like my ancestors for them if they had a choice. I’ve been used like a K-9 unit and a manufacturing plant for life-saving serum.
I’m certain that if I hadn’t complied with something, they would’ve tried to shackle me with a buzz collar and make me help until I was of no use. They’d let me go afterward because they’re real civil like that. But even the feds have shadow ops who feel like they can get their hands dirty under the cover of our desperate times thanks to the ruthless Nebulous Empire.
Most don’t know Sol’s dark side exists. I make it my business to know every threat in my area and any who threaten it.
When I turn to focus on Zariah, I hear that the half-breed before her is holding her mother’s last gift. He looks ready to tear it in two. Her red face says I might be too late.
I draw my Haxgun, slip through the onlookers with quick, silent steps, and press it into his back. The charge tube spools quietly with a storm of green light as I lift my other hand with my Harrowgun.
The room around us stills. A few of the shipping captains make subtle movements for their weapons. I see the Ginarigon dart his eyes to his left. The man beside him slides his finger over one of the glowing red throwing knives on his chest. I can hear the susurrus of his skin sliding over the metal. Another manshifts his feet, his finger tapping the handle of his gun:tap tap tap, waiting for me to twitch in a way he doesn’t like.
It was over-stimulating as a child to hear and feel so many things, but it’s essential to listen if I want to survive this place and every other in this war-torn universe. And this time, it’s not just my ass on the line.
I initiate my wristband weapons with one thought.
Harrow Spindle-ignite.
My wrist swells with the light of twenty targeting blades. In my vision, I confirm targets with illuminated brackets.
Zariah slowly steps around the man she called Lingon, clutching an item in her hands and looking up at me in utter surprise.
I shake my head.Please don’t say my name. Not with so many listening.
“Get your things,” I say, trying to block out the sight of her looking at me like I mean something. It only makes it harder to fight the urges that stir within me. My erection strains against my armor. Heat curls out from my core into my limbs. I am furious anyone would threaten her, yet I’m fighting to rein in my desire, so I don’t cock this rescue up.
She lifts the paper. “This is all I brought.”
