Page 60 of Xara and the Xenobeast

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t panic. Instead, she rose to her feet, dusting off her hands with brisk efficiency.

“How close?”

“Too close. Need to accelerate preparations.”

She nodded, already moving toward the cave entrance. “I’ve reinforced the inner chamber and set up a fallback position. If we can funnel them through the main passage, we can pick them off one by one.”

Her tactical thinking surprised him, though it shouldn’t have. She’d proven her adaptability time and again.

“Good,” he said, following her inside. “But not enough.”

The cave’s interior had been transformed in the days since they’d discovered the beacon. The entrance was narrower, reinforced with salvaged metal plating. Inside, the main chamber had been divided into defensive zones, with makeshift barriers providing cover. The pups’ sleeping area had been moved to the most protected corner, surrounded by the softest materials they could find.

It looked like a war camp. Because it was.

“I know it’s not enough,” she said, her voice tight. “But it’s what we have.”

He placed the dead drone on a flat rock they’d been using as a table. “Need more. Need advantage.”

“What kind of advantage?”

He hesitated, considering their options. They were outnumbered, outgunned. The jungle would help—it was as much a weapon as any blade or blaster—but against a full Zarkari strike team, even that might not be enough.

“Tal’Shai,” she said suddenly. “Could they help us?”

He stiffened. The Tal’Shai were not warriors. They survived through avoidance, not confrontation.

“No,” he growled. “They don’t fight.”

“But they know this planet better than anyone,” she pressed. “They must have defenses, knowledge we could use.”

“They won’t help.”

“How do you know? Have you asked them?”

He hadn’t. In all his years of exile, he’d maintained a careful distance from the native inhabitants. They tolerated his presence because he respected their boundaries, never approaching their settlements, never interfering with their ways.

“They fear outsiders,” he said. “With reason.”

Xara’s expression softened. “They might fear outsiders, but they know you. You’ve lived alongside them for years without causing harm. That has to count for something.”

He shook his head. “Not enough.”

“It might be,” she insisted. “And what other choice do we have? Wait here to be slaughtered?”

The truth of her words stung. Their chances, already slim, would dwindle to nothing if they remained isolated.

“Please,” she said, stepping closer. “If not for us, then for them.” She gestured to the pups, now all three huddled together in their corner, sensing the tension. “They deserve a chance.”

He closed his eyes, wrestling with his instincts. Pride warred with practicality, stubbornness with survival.

And beneath it all, that dangerous, fragile hope.

A life they could build. If they survived.

“Dangerous,” he said finally. “For them. For us.”

“Everything about this situation is dangerous,” she countered. “But together, we might have a chance.”

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