Page 45 of Hunted By the Dragon Alien

There were three of them now, spread out in a loose formation. The agent holding the tracker called the shots with quick hand gestures. The other two flanked him, weapons drawn. Probably not charged to lethal levels. They’d want him alive, at least for now.

Takkian slid behind a wider crate, and crouched to stay out of sight. He reached for his blade, just in case. His dragon fire flickered deep in his throat.

One agent veered closer, scanning. Takkian shifted, his hand skimming the edge of the crate.Calm. Stay calm.

“Anything?” the voice barked again.

“Can’t be sure. The signal keeps bouncing.”

Takkian smirked grimly. The outpost was chaotic enough to throw off even their fancy tech.For now. He glanced over his shoulder to check the nearest exit—a small hatch leading toward the bays. If he could get to it…

A low hum started up near the docks. Engines powering on. Ships leaving. He swore under his breath. The sounds would mask the noise his movements, but leaving his hiding spot meant it was more likely the Axis agents would spot him. He needed to time this perfectly.

The agent nearest him moved again, edging closer to the stack of crates shielding Takkian. His boots tapped against the metal flooring, unnerving in their rhythm. Takkian tightened his grip on the blade. If it came down to survival, he wouldn’t hesitate to bury it in the agent’s throat.

The leader’s voice cut through the din. “Spread out more. Cut off the bays.”

Takkian clenched his jaw. They were getting smarter. He looked over crates, pipes, and vents, looking for anything—anything—that could buy him another few moments. His gaze landed on an unsteady pile of metal barrels a few yards away, precariously balanced on a platform.There.

He worked his way around the stack of crates, every silent step calculated. His muscles coiled like springs as he positioned himself behind the barrels. He reached up, about to give one of the lower barrels a solid shove.

Suddenly, Takkian froze. His hand was still pressed against the barrel as motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked upward, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of…wings?

Not just any wings—Zaruxian wings. Two figures flew through the high ceiling of the hangar. Their forms sliced through the air with swift precision.

For a fleeting moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Other things moved through the air, like messenger drones and the odd small-winged being, but the glint of red scales on one and deep purple on the other confirmed it. Shock rippled through him, locking his muscles for a beat too long.

“One’s above! Movement!” one agent shouted.

The Axis agents turned, attention diverted. Takkian yanked his hand away from the barrel and pressed farther into the shadows. He needed to stay invisible, needed to use this moment. But his gaze kept flicking upward.

The purple-scaled Zaruxian moved first, diving from above so fast he was a blur. His wings slashed down with smooth power, propelling him forward like a spear cutting through water. The other—deep red—descended with measuredmovements. His motion controlled and no less precise. They soared straight into the heart of the chaos below, disrupting the Axis agents’ careful formation.

Takkian’s breath hitched. They had no hesitation, no fear. There was no doubt in his mind that these were the Zaruxians they’d been seeking. The ones traveling with Sevas’ friends. One of them was the former overseer of her penal colony. This meant one thing—Sevas and Bruil had found them and convinced them to help him.

His throat went tight with an emotion he couldn’t put a name to. The red-scaled Zaruxian landed on the floor with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the surfaces. One of the agents stumbled backward, struggling to stay upright as the Zaruxian’s claws gleamed in the dim light.

“Targets acquired,” the Axis agent shouted, raising his blaster. The other two agents surged forward, weapons at the ready.

The deep purple Zaruxian swooped down next, landing with a fluid grace that made Takkian’s own wings twitch with envy. He moved like a predator. His sharp, silver eyes were cold as his massive frame straightened to its full height. His voice rang out, deep and commanding. “You have onepikto move on or this will be your end.”

Takkian couldn’t deny the flicker of awe that twisted in his chest. These weren’t just Zaruxians—they were warriors, unyielding and fierce, but different from him. He weighed his options as he allowed the Axis agents to choose. Unsurprisingly, they scrambled into action, weapons aimed and charged. The lead agent barked orders over the din. “Take them down.”

Takkian was done watching. He leaped from the shadows, narrowly avoiding a sizzling burst of plasma energy. He dodged out of the way and drew his blade from its sheath with a cool scrape.

The fight had broken the controlled chaos of the docking bay into outright pandemonium. Dock workers screamed, merchants abandoned their stalls, and the clang of falling cargo filled the air as people fled. Some joined the fight—attacking Axis agents or each other.

He moved fast and closed in on an agent too focused on the blaster fire to notice him. The weapon in the agent’s grip was charged, but Takkian didn’t give him a chance to use it. With a powerful swipe, his blade slashed across the thin joint of the agent’s armor at the wrist. The weapon tumbled to the floor, sizzling where it struck.

The agent stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm. Takkian didn’t hesitate. With a sharp pivot, he drove a powerful fist into the agent’s chest, slamming him against a stack of crates. The crack of impact echoed through the bay, and the agent crumpled, unconscious.

“Another one down,” the red-scaled Zaruxian called. He glanced at Takkian briefly, a flash of silver eyes meeting silver. “You caused quite a stir here, didn’t you?”

“They started it,” he said with a grin. Then, without looking back, he added, “Who thefekare you?”

“Your rescue team,” the red-scaled Zaruxian shouted as he dodged another blaster bolt. He ducked behind a stack of fuel canisters and popped up on the other side, returning fire with precision. “And we’re late, apparently.”

The purple-scaled Zaruxian moved in close, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Introductions later. Help us finish this so we can get out of here.”

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