Page 37 of Pursued By the Dragon Alien

Krask narrowed his eyes but said nothing more.

Vedd, clearly enjoying himself, grinned. “I, for one, think this is great. The mighty Captain Razion, finally letting himself have a little fun.”

Razion shook his head, but the conversation was over. He turned back to the star map, bracing his hands on the console. “Set the course. Get us to that outpost.”

The crew moved into action, each member falling into their roles with ease. That was one thing Razion could always count on—the efficiency of his team. No matter their personal opinions, they knew how to follow orders and get the job done.

As the Darkslip shifted into motion, engines humming beneath his feet, Razion exhaled slowly, staring at the map. Thiswas the closest he’d been to finding answers about his kind in years. And yet, it wasn’t just the Zaruxians that weighed on his mind.

It was Lilas.

She had said she wouldn’t be afraid, but he wasn’t convinced. Not because she lacked courage—starsknew she had enough fire to burn a hole through the galaxy—but because this was bigger than either of them. What they’d just shared in his quarters had changed things between them, whether either of them was ready to admit it or not.

And now, instead of basking in that new connection, they were about to chase ghosts across the quadrant.

Razion flexed his fingers, then nodded to himself. First, they would find the juvenile Rokkol merchant. Then, the truth. Everything else—including how thefekhe was supposed to stop himself from falling harder for Lilas with every passing cycle—could wait.

For now.

FOURTEEN

Lilas

Lilas stepped carefully down the ramp of the Darkslip. Her boots hit the packed-metal floor of Pavo Outpost with a quiet thud. The cold air smelled of hot oil and something slightly sweet, like spiced pastries left too long in the heat. Unlike the Vexir Trade Station, this place wasn’t a riot of voices and flashing neon. The lighting was dim, the overhead fixtures casting a burnt-orange glow that made the shadows stretch long against the metal-paneled walls. Stalls lined both sides of the trade deck, but they weren’t packed together like on Vexir. Here, space was valued—broad walkways gave merchants and travelers room to move without having to squeeze past each other.

It was quieter too, though not silent. Vendors spoke in low, measured tones as they discussed prices with buyers. The occasional clatter of crates being shifted echoed off the high ceiling, and somewhere further into the outpost, a deep thrum signaled the arrival of a new ship through the docking bay doors. The pace of life here seemed slower, more deliberate. Less chaotic.

Still, Lilas stayed close to Razion.

In the four cycles since they’d slept together, they’d spent more time together. Something had grown between them. She felt it in the way he stood beside her without having to check if she was there—in the way she trusted him to watch her back, even in a place like this. Even now, as they walked through the trade deck, she caught the subtle tilt of his head, the way his sharp, storm-gray eyes swept over the merchants and travelers before settling on her for the briefest second. Just making sure.

She liked it. Too much.

Vedd, walking just ahead of them, exchanged quiet words with a squat, purple-skinned merchant at a tucked-away stall. The male eyed the crate Vedd had hauled off their last raid, then scanned it with a small handheld device. A light on the scanner blinked green—not junk, then. Still, there was a long moment of tense haggling before a final price was agreed upon, and the merchant transferred the credits with an impatient flick of his fingers.

Vedd flashed a lazy grin as he pocketed the funds. “Pleasure doing business with you, Ormoc.”

Ormoc grumbled something under his breath but accepted the crate anyway.

“Alright,” Vedd said, turning back toward them with an easy smirk. “That’s one less thing to haul back to the ship. Let’s go find our rock boy.”

Razion inclined his head, leading them deeper into the trade deck. Lilas stayed close, her eyes scanning the booths they passed. Unlike Vexir, where every vendor seemed to be shouting over one another, Pavo’s merchants worked in measured exchanges, their voices steady as they listed prices, weighed goods, and examined trade offers.

She exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders. This was manageable.

After a few minutes, Razion slowed, then angled his head toward a booth near the edge of the trade deck. “Over there.”

Lilas followed his gaze and spotted them—a group of massive beings with rock-textured skin, their features broad and heavily ridged. Even seated behind their trade stall, they were imposing. The male at the center had thick, slate-gray skin with deep cracks that reminded her of the dry riverbeds back home. He was slightly smaller than the older Rokkol male and female beside him—his parents, probably—and spoke quietly with a customer while two younger Rokkol children stacked crates behind the display.

“That must be Ulo,” Vedd said.

As they approached, the young Rokkol’s golden eyes flicked up, locking onto Razion first, then shifting to Lilas. It was just the three of them. Krask and Cozax were seeing to ship upgrades.

“You must be Razion,” Ulo said, his voice a low rumble of acknowledgement. “I’d recognize a Zaruxian anywhere. And you must be Lilas.”

Lilas blinked. “You already know my name?”

Ulo grinned, a deep, easy expression that cracked wider crevices in the stony surface of his face. “Sevas spoke about you.”

---