“Rhonar are the scum of the galaxy!” A shout sounded too nearby for comfort. I turned toward the noise, Jane following my lead. A gray-skinned alien emerged from the crowd. “You should all be put down.”
As the stranger came closer, I noted his species. “Craxion.”
“I saw him before with a bug-alien,” Jane whispered, her hair forming a curtain to hide her face. “He was talking about a slave rebellion.”
“Yes,” I replied for her ears alone. “That’s the planet where we first encountered humans, where your scientist Ava was saved.”
“Fuck.” Jane put a hand on her dagger.
“Not yet.” I crossed my arms over my chest, palming my own daggers concealed beneath my vest. “Let’s see if he’s ready for a fight or all bluster.”
“All bark, no bite.” She nodded, her foot gliding seamlessly into her fighting stance. “He seems the type.”
When the Craxion stood within striking distance of us, I cataloged his appearance. He wore no shoes but needed none with his powerful hooves. Four curved horns sprouted from his hairless head. He was covered in an animal hide from neck to thigh as was the style of his home world. Wicked claws sprouted from his hands. None of that concerned me save for the blaster attached to his belt.
“You, Rhonar,” he spat my species name like a curse, “have decimated the economy of Craxon! Your support of the slave rebellion is unacceptable.”
My blood boiled. The mission report had been challenging to read. Although I had not been one of the warriors undercover on that planet, their description of the atrocities committed there were enough to haunt me. It had been a long assignment, and only the blessing of my brathers finding their mates brought them back to the fold. If they hadn’t, I feared the strain of their duty on Craxon might have pushed them into the depths of the void.
“From my understanding,” I said evenly, showing known of the contempt I felt for this bastard, “it is already done. The people have won, and your Lords of Craxon are scattered to the wind.”
His thin lips stretched into a sneer. “Do I look defeated, glack?”
The Craxion curse from his mouth did not bother me as much as his hand crawling toward his blaster. “I would not do that, your Lordship.” I used his title as a warning, for it was clear to me he was one of the elite ruling class—the same that had fallen in the rebellion. “You will regret it.”
“Will I?” Out of the crowd, two Oraders, insectoid aliens who were notorious for species trafficking, and two additional Craxions emerged. They took position next to the bastard and surrounded us. “I think not.”
