I frown, my scales itching with suspicion. “The gravity well from the big asteroid must have pulled them out of their jump. But if theTriumphantwrecked, where’s the rest of the ship? Not one bit of debris?”
Gas shrugs. “Maybe it got pulverized. Asteroid fields are messy.”
“No. Someone wants us tothinkthe ship was lost here. Someone who’s not very bright.” I lean back, my tail thumping against the floor. “This is a setup. And I’m not walking into it blind. Gas, scan for any other ships in the area. If someone’s playing games, I want to know who.”
Gas’s claws dance over the console, his golden fur rippling as he squints at the readouts. “No ships in the area. But there’s background radiation. The kind that says therewereships here. Recently.”
I lean forward, my tail twitching. “Ships? As in more than one?”
“Affirmative, boss. At least two, maybe three. They left a mess of ion trails and residual heat signatures. Someone was in a hurry.”
I slam a fist on the console, and the whole thing shudders. “Our computer’s not up to tracking them through superluminalspeed. We’ve hit a dead end. Maybe Dowron was right—this is a job for someone with better tech.”
“Hold up, boss,” Gas says, spinning his chair around to face me. He’s got that smug look on his face, the one that usually means he’s about to say something infuriatingly clever. “I never said they made a superluminal jump. The ships left this area at sublight speed.”
My scales itch with anticipation. “Sublight? Can you track them?”
Gas leans back, sucking on the straw of his Big Zhuvok soft drink like he’s got all the time in the galaxy. “Already found them.”
Without looking, he slaps a button on the console. The main viewing monitor flickers to life, and for a split second, I’m treated to the sight of two Fratvoyans in a position that defies both physics and good taste. The first moan echoes through the cabin before Gas’s eyes widen, and he spins back around, slamming the controls.
“Wrong file! Wrong file!” he yelps, his fur standing on end.
I raise an eyebrow, my tail thumping against the floor. “I didn’t know your people could bend that way.”
“Shut up,” Gas mutters, his snout turning a shade of pink that clashes with his fur. The screen finally clears, and an image of a battered, ancient refueling station fills the monitor. It’s a hulking mass of rusted metal and flickering lights, floating in the void like a forgotten relic.
“There,” Gas says, pointing a claw at the screen. “That’s where they went. The ion trails lead straight to it.”
I grin, my teeth gleaming in the dim light of the cockpit. “Then that’s where we’re going. Plot a course, Gas."
Gas’s claws fly over the controls, and theSweet Charityhums as it accelerates. “You know, boss, this could be a trap.”
“Of course it’s a trap,” I growl, cracking my knuckles. “But I’m not walking into it blind. We’ll hit them hard and fast. They won’t know what hit them.”
Gas chuckles, his tail swishing behind him. “You’re gonna get us killed one of these days.”
“Better than dying of boredom,” I reply.
CHAPTER 3
QUINN
The world swims into focus—dark, jagged, and throbbing in time with the pulse behind my eyes. My wrists ache, bound behind my back with cold, unyielding metal. I groan, shifting to try and sit up, but the collar around my throat bites into my skin with every movement. It’s padlocked, the chain rattling against the rusted bars of the cage I’m in.
“Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?” Clara’s voice cuts through the haze, her tone light despite the situation. Her wrists are bound too, and she’s leaning against the bars with a wry smirk. “We were starting to wonder if you’d decided to sleep through the whole ‘captured by Reapers’ thing.”
“Would’ve been a luxury,” I mutter, wincing as I try to stretch my neck. The cage smells like animals—stale hay, dung, and something metallic. “Where the hell are we?”
“Derelict fueling station,” T’vek chimes in from the corner, her red scales dull in the dim light. Her golden eyes flicker with annoyance, her tail twitching. “The Reapers dragged us here after they boarded the Triumphant. You tried to talk your way out of it and—well, Reku didn’t appreciate the diplomacy.”
“He hit me,” I say, the memory slamming back with merciless clarity. The Reaper captain, towering over me, hisscarlet bone spurs glinting like jagged knives. I’d opened my mouth to negotiate, and he’d silenced me with a backhanded strike that sent me crashing into darkness. “Charming guy.”
“Oh, he’s a real charmer,” Clara drawls, shifting to lean her head against the bars. “He’s also got a thing for making people bleed. You should’ve seen what they did to the captain.”
“Where is he?” I ask, dread coiling in my stomach.
“Bloodsport,” T’vek says flatly, her voice low. “They took him to the arena. Reku likes to hunt his prey before he kills it.”