Page 19 of Pact with the Alien Devil

I stood slowly, my fingers pressing against the bandage where fresh blood was seeping through. “I need to send a message to Alkard. And deal with this,” I added, gesturing to my injury.

I left the cockpit without another word, feeling her eyes on my back as I walked away.

In the small galley, I extracted my communicator from an inner pocket. The device hummed as I activated its highest encryption protocols. Alkard needed to know immediately. I composed a coded message—simple, direct, but carrying grave implications:

“Black Spikes had our exact location. There's a traitor within the Fangs. Container retrieved - confirms biological weapons research targeting Vinduthi weaknesses.”

I transmitted the message through our secure channels. Alkard would understand the severity without elaboration. He would begin his own investigation, quietly and ruthlessly.

The pain in my side intensified as the adrenaline faded. I pulled out the medkit stashed beneath one of the galley cabinets. My fingers worked methodically to clean and re-dress the wound

Already the edges were beginning to close, the accelerated healing of my species at work. It would be hours before it fully repaired—the plasma bolt had burned deep, damaging multiple layers of tissue.

I had just finished securing the fresh bandage when a shrill shriek cut through the ship.

Danger. The proximity alarm.

I abandoned the medkit and rushed back to the cockpit, ignoring the sharp pain with each step. Iria hunched over the sensor display, her face illuminated by the red warning lights.

“We’ve got company,” she said, fingers already working combat sequences into the navigation computer.

I leaned over her shoulder, studying the readout. The ship’s configuration was unmistakable. “Scavenger ship. They’ve been tailing us since the outpost.”

The first shot hit before Iria could respond. TheStarfallrocked violently, throwing me against the bulkhead. Pain exploded across my injured side.

“They think we’re vulnerable,” I growled, steadying myself against the pilot’s chair. “They’re wrong.”

Iria’s hands flew across the controls. “Sit down and strap in. This is going to get rough.”

I dropped into the co-pilot seat, fingers finding the harness automatically. The scanner showed two more scavenger ships emerging from behind a small asteroid cluster. Not a coincidence—an ambush.

“Three ships,” I said. “Coordinated formation. These aren’t ordinary scavengers.”

Iria snorted. “No kidding. Ordinary scavengers don’t have military-grade targeting systems.”

She pitched the ship into a steep dive, evading another barrage of laser fire. Her skills impressed me—most pilots would panic facing three-to-one odds. Iria handled theStarfallwith the intimacy of long partnership, anticipating its responses, pushing its limits.

“Any ideas?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the viewscreen.

“The asteroid field,” I replied, pointing to a dense cluster in the distance. “Your ship can outmaneuver them in tight spaces.”

“TheStarfallisn’t exactly built for combat maneuvers in asteroid fields.”

“And those scavenger ships aren’t built for precision flying. They’re retrofitted cargo haulers—heavy, slow to turn.”

She considered for only a second before changing course. “If we crash and die, I’m blaming you.”

“If we crash and die, blame will be the least of our concerns.”

She actually laughed—a sharp, genuine sound that surprised me. “Fair point.”

IRIA

The proximity alarm screamed through the cockpit as the first plasma bolt sliced past theStarfall’shull, close enough to make the shields shimmer. Red emergency lights bathed everything in their harsh glow, transforming Korvan’s gray features into something otherworldly.

I gripped the controls so hard my knuckles turned white. “Shit!”

Another bolt hit us, this time clipping the shield. The ship lurched sideways. My stomach dropped as I fought to stabilize. I’d faced danger before—hell, it was practically my job description—but something about this felt different. Maybe it was the blood still seeping from Korvan’s wound. Maybe it was knowing what was in that container behind us. Either way, my pulse hammered in my throat.

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