Page 42 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

“We’ll figure it out,” Sevas snapped, keeping her pace quick. The smells of alien spices and overheated circuits burned her nose, but she pushed forward, weaving around a group of squabbling traders.

Bruil grunted, but didn’t argue. “Let’s hope there’s a charitable broker, then.”

They reached a cluster of dark booths at the far end of the atrium. The setup was disorganized—a patchwork of tarps, blinking screens, and mismatched tables where brokers sat with datapads and monitors, glaring at anyone who approached. Sevas slowed her pace, her eyes darting between the scattered brokers.

“That one,” Bruil said, nodding to a skinny, horned male perched at the edge of one stall. His striated skin was a slick greenish gray, and his four eyes blinked asynchronously as he spoke rapidly into a headset. He wore layers of mismatched fabrics, all covered in strange metallic trinkets. “Looks like the type who knows who’s coming and going.”

Sevas headed straight for the being, with Bruil close behind her. The broker finished his conversation and looked up as they approached, his upper eyes widening slightly.

“Greetings, travelers,” the male said in a voice that was high and gravelly. He leaned forward, eyes flitting between Sevas and Bruil with sly curiosity. “What do you want?”

“We’re looking for a ship,” Sevas said, getting straight to the point. Her tone was firm, though her heart raced. “A ship carrying two Zaruxian males and two Terian females.” She gestured toward Bruil. “The males look like—”

The broker cut her off with a hiss. “I know what Zaruxians look like.”

“Good.” Sevas’ lip curled. “I want to know where that ship and its occupants are now.”

The broker tilted his head as his mouth curved into what passed for an amused sneer. “And what makes you think I know about that?”

“We don’t have time for this,” she snapped, fixing the broker with a hard stare. “This is a neutral station.Youare an information broker. If anyone here has the details I need, it’s you.”

The alien let out a chittering laugh. His upper eyes blinked out of sync with the lower pair. “You’re one of those who broke out of the arena, aren’t you?” He leaned forward, resting long, bony fingers on the edge of the table. “The Axis agents areveryinterested in finding you and your Zaruxian friends.”

Sevas’ patience had ended. She balled up a fist and slammed it on the table, rattling everything on it and causing a few heads to turn. “Tell them, then. I don’t give afek. We brought down an entire arena with a lot more enemies than there are here.” She leaned close, baring her teeth. She felt some satisfaction seeing the broker’s smug expression smooth out to a businesslike cunning. “Give me the information I want. Now.”

“My information doesn’t come free,” he said. “What do you have to trade?”

Sevas snatched the blaster from Bruil’s waist.

“Hey,” he objected, but Sevas had already placed the weapon on the table.

The broker’s eyes narrowed. “A good start, but weapons like this are common. I’m given dozens of them every cycle.” His gaze moved to the slingshot at her hip. “Add that to the table and we’ll have a deal.”

She hated the idea of parting with the slingshot. It was the only weapon she had. Without it, she had only her wits andstrength, but Takkian was out of time, and she wasn’t about to waste more of it hesitating.

She pulled it out of her belt and held it up. “Fine.”

The broker’s eyes glinted with interest. “Ah, excellent. That is no ordinary slingshot.” His fingers twitched against the table. “Digital aiming display, self-generating electro-ammunition, reinforced frame—where did you get it?”

“Does it matter?” Sevas shot back. “I’m offering it. Take it or leave it.”

The broker extended one hand, long fingers reaching as though he meant to snatch it out of her grip. “Let me see it.”

“Location of the Zaruxian ship,” Sevas said firmly, holding the slingshot out of reach.

The broker let out a slow hiss that might have been a sigh. He tapped something into his datapad, and a holographic map of the docking hangars blinked to life in the air between them. He gestured to one platform, pointing a long finger to a dock labeled 37-D. “The ship you’re looking for is there,” the broker said. There was a glint of sly amusement in his eyes. “However, they are set to depart. They didn’t file a heading. No one does when Axis agents are lurking about.”

“When are they departing?” Sevas pressed, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Tenpiks. You’ll never make it, sadly,” the alien said, holding out a hand and flicking his fingers. “Now, the slingshot, if you please.”

Sevas slapped the slingshot into the broker’s waiting palm and drew in a fortifying breath through flared nostrils.

The broker flipped the slingshot over, evaluating the sleek frame before sliding it into a hidden compartment under the table. Then, she saw his keen eyes fix on something far away behind her. “Two Axis agents have entered the atrium. I would run now, if I were you.”

Sevas muttered out a curse and turned on her heel. She grabbed Bruil’s arm and propelled him into motion. “Let’s go.”

They maneuvered through the unpredictable crowd, ducking between crates and past groups of arguing traders. The air felt heavier now. The outpost had become louder, more chaotic, as if it sensed their urgency and actively resisted their progress.

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