Page 33 of Legacy for the Alien Warrior

“We need to return to the ship immediately,” he said quietly. “With both children.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of anger, determination, and something else—something that made his pulse quicken despite the grim circumstances.

“I’ll get what we need from Wren,” he told her. “Then we’ll go.”

As he turned back to the cowering Plumevian, he realized that his carefully constructed solitary existence had just become infinitely more complicated. And strangely, he found he didn’t mind at all.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Kara’s heart stopped as she realized what was inside the cage. Not cargo. Not an animal. A small, humanoid child with lavender skin and large, frightened eyes stared back at them. The girl—for she was clearly female despite her alien features—couldn’t have been more than five or six in human equivalent years.

“That’s a child,” she whispered, horror crawling up her spine.

Thraxar moved with terrifying speed. One moment he stood beside her; the next, he had Wren pinned against the wall, massive green hand wrapped around the trader’s throat.

“What is this?” His voice dropped to a dangerous rumble.

Wren’s limbs flailed in panic. “Just merchandise! Valuable, but essentially an animal?—”

“That’s a child,” she hissed, stepping closer to the cage. The girl cowered against the back wall, translucent frilled ears flattening against her head.

Rory sat cross-legged in front of the cage, seemingly unbothered by the violence unfolding behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bolt he’d collected during their repair work. With careful precision, he rolled it through the bars.

The lavender child stared at the bolt, then at Rory. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked it up and rolled it back.

“She’s not an animal,” Kara said, her voice shaking with fury. “She’s playing with my son.”

Rory rolled the bolt again. The girl caught it, a flicker of interest crossing her frightened face. She rolled it back.

“We can’t leave her here,” she said, turning to Thraxar. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “We can’t.”

His eyes met hers, hard and resolute. “We’re not going to.”

He tightened his grip on Wren’s throat. “How do I open this cage?”

“Electronic… lock,” Wren gasped, his color fading to a sickly gray. “Remote… in my… pocket.”

Thraxar released him just enough to search his clothing, extracting a small device. He tossed it to her and she caught it one-handed.

“Please,” Wren wheezed. “She’s worth a fortune?—”

Thraxar slammed him against the wall again. “Her value isn’t measured in credits.”

She examined the remote, finding a single button. She pressed it, and the front of the cage slid open with a soft hiss.

The lavender child scrambled backward, pressing herself against the far corner. Her ears changed color, darkening to a deep purple that seemed to indicate fear.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

The girl didn’t respond, just watched them with those enormous dark eyes.

Rory rolled the bolt again, this time right through the open door of the cage. The girl hesitated, then rolled it back, keeping her distance.

Thraxar delivered a precise blow to Wren’s temple, and the trader crumpled to the floor unconscious. “We need to move quickly. Others may come.”

She nodded, but her attention remained on the frightened child. “She won’t come out.”

Rory stood up suddenly, surprising them both. He took a step into the cage, then immediately stepped back out. He repeated the action—in, then out—three more times, his movements deliberate and clear. Then he sat down again and rolled the bolt to the girl.

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