Page 2 of Zayrik

The blast came out of nowhere.

Sharp agonizing pain tore through my side. I stumbled, nearly falling from the ladder as the shot grazed my ribs. Blood immediately soaked my shirt, warm and slick.

I looked down. One of Vask’s men stood at the bottom of the ladder, blaster raised for another shot.

No time to think. I launched myself upward, ignoring the screaming pain in my side. Another blast hit the wall beside me, showering sparks across my face.

I hauled myself onto the upper level, rolling away from the opening as a third shot followed.

“You are injured,” Nav observed unnecessarily. “Blood loss at current rate gives you approximately forty-seven minutes before loss of consciousness.”

“Thanks,” I gasped, pressing my palm against the wound. Not deep enough to kill me. Not yet. But if I didn’t get off this station soon, that might change.

I forced myself to my feet, staggering forward. “New route. Now!”

“Recalculating. Head north. Alternative path to docking bay seven.”

By the time I reached the upper levels, my window was shrinking. Blood dripped between my fingers, leaving a trail I couldn’t hide. My vision blurred at the edges, focus coming and going with each labored breath.

I cut through another maintenance corridor, breath quick, feet not as silent as I needed them to be. My ribs screamed in protest, but I pushed through.

Almost there.

“This is a terrible idea,” Nav chimed in again, its tone somehow even more unimpressed than usual. “You’re bleeding. And your current heart rate suggests you have less than a fifteen percent chance of escaping unscathed.”

“Yeah? Well, fifteen percent is better than zero, so shut up and let me focus.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be far more efficient to surrender now and mitigate further injury.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fantastic. I’ll be sure to pass that strategy along to my captors while they kill me.”

Zep let out a soft, warning trill, his small, warm body shifting uneasily against my skin.

“Not helping, Nav,” I muttered. “And Zep, don’t start. I know we’re screwed.”

The little creature pressed his tiny claws into my collarbone, a reassuring presence despite his size.

Stowing away again was off the table.

That ship would already be crawling with security.

I had two choices: steal a ship or die trying.

And that’s when I saw it. Docking Bay Seven. A small transport. Sleek. Dark. Unguarded.

No alarms flashing. No armed crew standing watch. And the idiot had left the ramp down.

Lucky me.

I moved fast, darting forward, keeping low as I slipped inside. The ship’s interior was dimly lit, quiet. “This could work,” I muttered, because apparently, I was an optimist now.

“This is a bad idea,” Nav commented, unimpressed. “Correction: this is your worst idea yet.”

“You’re supposed to help, not criticize.”

“I’m an outdated navigation AI with limited ethical subroutines. You stole me, remember? You don’t get to complain about my bedside manner.”

I ignored it, staggering toward the cockpit.

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