Page 20 of Rescued By the Alien Hit Man

“Why can’t we just find a shuttle and go back to the station? Let the authorities take care of Ivor,” she said, hopeful but naïve.

Her naïveté about the situation tugged a smile onto my lips, despite the gravity of our conversation. “Ivor will never stop coming for you. And the Sionagog Syndicate prides itself on always getting the job done.” My hand found hers, an instinctive gesture. “I need Ivor to cancel the hit on you.”

Doubt flickered across her face, her green eyes clouded with worry. But there was determination there too; she wasn’t one to flee from a challenge. We locked eyes, the air between us charged with an understanding deeper than words. With every shared glance and touch, the bond between us grew tangled up in survival and something much more dangerous.

“Then let’s make sure he gets the message,” she said. “What’s our next move?”

“Preparation,” I said, my mind already racing with strategies and contingencies. We need supplies, information, an edge.

She eyed the computer screen where Ivor’s base location blinked ominously. “He won’t just let us walk in and convince him to back off. You know that, right?”

“Persuasion comes in many forms.” My voice was a low hum, barely concealing the undercurrent of danger. I had ways of making men like Ivor bend to my will.

“I don’t want to spend my life looking over my shoulder, Cikarius.”

Her gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea echoing in those green depths. Infiltrating Ivor’s lair wouldn’t be easy; we’d need to consider every variable, prepare for the guards, the traps, any unforeseen dangers lurking within. Together, we plotted with purpose, driven by survival and the hope for freedom from this relentless hunt.

“I promise you won’t have to.”

“How are you going to get to him?” Her eyes met mine, searching for a plan.

“I’ll think of something.” The corners of my mouth twitched upward, a semblance of a smile. We hunched over the facility’s computer, her fingers a blur across the keyboard as we mapped out our approach, considering every variable, every shadow that might hide a threat.

“Done,” she said, leaning back, her ponytail brushing against the high collar of her jacket.

I shifted in my seat, turning my attention to the computer. Every computer on Dufair, Alfataken Station, and Talamhmar belonged to the same network. When the research potential of the moon was discovered, governments and scientists wanted a way to easily exchange data. But everyone used the network now, from businesses to civilians wanting to keep in touch. Its archaic interface was sluggish, the cursor blinking lazily on the screen, but it wouldn’t betray us to prying digital eyes. I navigated through layers of code, finding the hidden pathway I’d left dormant within the Sionagog Syndicate’s network—a backdoor known only to me.

“Access granted,” the screen announced silently, and I dove into the abyss of encrypted files. Every keystroke was deliberate. My muscles tense with anticipation. I activated a failsafe program I’d created years ago—a just-in-case measure—and began downloading the Sionagog Syndicate’s client list.

“What are you doing?” Mia’s voice, tinged with curiosity, broke the silence.

“Insurance.” The single word hung between us, weighted with unspoken promises of safety and retaliation.

“Against?”

“Uncertainty.” I looked at her, and in that moment, shared more than just a look; I shared an understanding of the perilous tightrope we walked.

The information streamed into a secure digital box, its virtual locks snapping shut. I sent the box spiraling into the ether of cyberspace, where it would orbit unseen until needed.

“Ready?” Mia asked, her gaze now steady, resolve hardening like armor.

“Always,” I said, feeling the pull of destiny, of fated moments yet to unfold.

As we rose from our makeshift command center, the hum of the jungle outside whispered secrets of what lay ahead. The air was charged with potential, with the promise of confrontation and the sweet tang of hope against overwhelming odds.

“Let’s gather what we need,” I said, scanning the dimly lit room. Mia nodded, her slender fingers deftly packing her computer and the precious flora samples into the rugged backpack. She moved with precision, every item purposefully selected for utility and necessity.

I turned my attention to the scavenging task at hand, picking through mechanical remnants, selecting parts that could be traded for passage off this forsaken moon.

We stepped out into the jungle’s embrace, its bioluminescent foliage casting an otherworldly glow on our path. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of exotic flowers and damp soil, a stark contrast to the sterile corridors of Alfataken Station. I led the way, every sense heightened to detect the slightest anomaly in the symphony of wild sounds around us.

Mia followed close behind, her green eyes scanning our surroundings. “The terrain seems to be changing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Adaptability is key.” I replied, noting the subtle shift in the underbrush, the way the ferns gave way to a denser thicket.

A sudden rustling to our right had us both freezing in place. I reached back, feeling Mia’s steady presence just inches from mine. Her breath was calm, measured, betraying none of the adrenaline that surely coursed through her veins.

We waited, and a creature—a Dufairian shadow-slink—emerged, its iridescent scales reflecting the faint luminescence of the jungle. It eyed us warily before slithering away into the darkness, a silent testament to the dangers lurking within the luminescent wilds.

---