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He was extremely vulnerable on that planet. Not only was his race at war with them, so he’d be immediately noticed, but his personal presence there would be like walking up to a Jorvlen ruler and slapping him across the face.
Kozien could imagine the way the war would erupt if he was captured on the planet. The Jorvlens might hold him to ransom, forcing his father into a weak position to get him back. Or they could just execute him and send his head back to Lorr, causing an even greater conflict to ensue.
Kozien hurried through the streets, stopping in a dark alcove to pull out his robes. He put the bulky headdress over his horns and wrapped long strips from the robe around his face and nose.
The only possible disguise for him was as an Ethane Breather. He would have to be careful not to expose his violet skin, so he bound the robe tightly around his wrists so it wouldn’t slide and fastened it around his midsection.
He managed to purchase a decent pair of gloves on his way through the port, and by the time he approached a rental lot, his disguise was complete. He addressed the alien proprietor with a halting, drawn-out greeting, just like an Ethane Breather would make.
“I need to rent a ship,” he coughed.
The alien nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, sir! What kind? How big is your party?”
“Just me,” Kozien rasped, hoping he wouldn’t have to answer many more questions.
“Over here, sir!” The alien led him to a corner of the lot. Kozien gave the name Rufiox to the proprietor, paid him an outrageous amount of money, and then took off in his hired shuttle.
As his little vehicle hovered over Jorvlen, Kozien felt apprehensive again. He knew landing here was risky in so many ways, and he would end up hurting Gianna far more if he was discovered.
So, I simply won’t get captured.
Kozien brought his ship down in a public dock and paid for the slot, making sure his place was reserved for a few hours. The last thing he wanted was for his ride to get towed.
He took a walk around the landing docks and take-off areas, occasionally puffing a small cloud of ethane—which he produced by smoking a thin rod that he purchased at port, too—through his face covering. No one paid much attention to him. The tall, imposing race was not known for being friendly or conversational, which gave him an excellent cover.
Kozien strolled out to the darker, lesser used areas of the port. Soon, he came upon aircraft that were clearly not as well-maintained as the other private ones. He kept his eyes peeled as he looked for the alien craft that had taken Gianna.
After some searching, he found it parked in a row of very dodgy transports. His heart beat faster in his chest. Now he knew she was on this planet.
Kozien’s next move would be to track the drugs. Trying to hunt down Gianna would only raise suspicion and put them both in danger. If he tracked down the D’Narvius who were peddling the drugs, that should take him straight to his mate.
The bars surrounding the port were the perfect place to start. Kozien headed into the nearest one, only to find it full of pilots and rich passengers.
No one would be doing drug deals here.
He walked down the street, his anxiety mounting with every step. He knew his mate was in danger, and every second grated against him.
A couple of times he asked street toughs if they had heard of the drug Motley. They ran from him as if they were afraid of the word and Kozien’s frustration grew.
Finally, he entered an extremely rough-looking bar. The floor was covered in sawdust with broken furniture and shards of glass strewn everywhere. It was as if the fights in here were so frequent, no one ever bothered to clean up after they were over.
Kozien took a seat in a dark corner so he could watch and wait. Across the room, almost directly opposite him, he noticed a couple of skinny guys who made contact with a lot of people but did not linger with any of them.
Those guys have drug dealers written all over them.
He lumbered over to the table, leaning over, and glaring at the skinny guys. They looked up at him as he smacked his hands down on the bare wood.
“Motley,” he grumbled.
It was not uncommon for Ethane Breathers to mince words. “Ah, my friend, why not ask me a question?” the taller male said.
Kozien smacked his fist on the table, frowning. “Need. Motley,” he muttered.
The skinny guy lit a long, thin smoke. His buddy scooted away as if he didn’t want in on the conversation. “I tell you what,” the guy said, blowing smoke. “I don’t have any on me, personally. But I can tell you who does.”
Kozien nodded, eagerly. Skinny guy gave him some decent directions to a nearby building.
He was worried it might be some kind of trap, but Kozien did not have much choice in the matter. He couldn’t exactly beat this guy right here and now, and Kozien was still desperate not to draw attention to himself.
