"I am your escort," he said."And you are talking too much."
"I'll stop talking when you stop manhandling me!"
He didn't answer.He couldn't.It took every ounce of his concentration to keep moving, to scan the perimeter for threats, while ignoring the way her body heat seared him even through his gloves.
He marched her down the block toward the private landing pad the local government had cleared for them.It was a short distance, but with her dragging her feet and arguing every step of the way, it felt like a march across the Nine Wastes.
"Are you even listening to me?"she demanded, breathless from trying to keep up with his stride."I said I get motion sick!If you put me on a spaceship, I amsothrowing up on your boots."
"The shuttle has inertial dampeners," he grunted, his eyes scanning the rooftops."You will not vomit."
She slid him a sideways glance."You don't know my stomach."
They turned the corner into the secured alleyway where the transport waited.It was a standard-issue Imperial shuttle, sleek and black, designed for speed and discretion.
He stopped dead.Emily slammed into his back.
"Oof!What is?—"
"Quiet," he hissed.
He stared at the craft.The running lights were dark.The faint hum of the standby generator was absent.The boarding ramp was sealed, but the access panel near the airlock had been pried open, wires hanging loose like spilled guts.
He froze, every instinct on alert.
"What's wrong?"she asked, her voice losing some of its fire.She looked at the dark ship, then up at him."Why aren't the lights on?"
"Keep quiet," he growled."Something's wrong."
He swept his gaze around the alley.High walls on three sides and one exit: the way they’d come.The landing pad was in a kill box.
"Wrong?"Her voice squeaked."Like… ?"
"I don't know, yet."He grabbed her, harder this time."Move."
Not waiting for her to argue, he hauled her back the way they'd come.Instead of returning to the street, he dragged her into the narrow recess between two brick buildings.It was a service entrance for waste disposal, filled with metal bins and the stench of refuse.
"Ew!What are you doing?"
"Taking cover," he growled, shoving her into the corner where the brick met concrete and positioning himself in front of her.He was a wall of muscle and leather between her and the threat.
He tapped the comms unit on his wrist bracer."K'Vass to Devan Control.Priority One."
Static hissed in his ear.
"K'Vass to Control.Do you copy?"
Nothing but white noise.Jammed.
"Draanth."
"What's going on?"Emily whispered.She was pressed against the brick, her eyes wide, the earlier defiance dimmed now.
"Stay down."
He switched frequencies, bypassing the standard channels and keying in the emergency extraction code reserved for the Emperor’s personal guard.It was a short-range, high-frequency burst designed to punch through standard jamming.
His comm pinged that the signal had sent.Beacon active.It would call in any local imperial assets to their rescue, overriding whatever mission they were on.
