Page 5 of Zayrik

His fingers twitched toward the data chip, like he wanted to take it back. The dealer gave him a scolding look.

No second chances.

Slowly, the man exhaled, then pushed back from the table.

The pot was mine.

And just like that, I won a ship I probably shouldn’t have.

The room didn’t react. No muttered curses from the losers, no spectators complaining about their luck. Just silence.

I leaned back, fingers drumming against the armrest. “Something wrong?”

The dealer didn’t meet my eyes as he slid the data chip toward me. The human who lost it looked like he was going to be sick.

The Setran woman across from me took a slow sip of her drink, watching me now with something that felt a lot like pity.

Yeah. I’d just won something I wasn’t supposed to.

I palmed the data chip, turning it between my fingers. “Must be my lucky night.”

No one responded.

The human shoved away from the table, movements jerky, eyes flicking toward the back exit. Running. Not from me.

From whatever came next.

MY TOP-SECRET PROTECTORATEmission was done. No orders waiting. No mission to report back on. Just a few days away from theVelean, away from everything, to clear my head.

The classified mission hadn’t exactly been a winning success. I failed in locating the crucial data on Vask. A threat that had emerged too suddenly in Alaran space for comfort.

Every dead end was another reminder that I wasn’t my father. I wouldn’t abandon my duty when things got difficult.

I shook my head in frustration. The Protectorate had just resolved the Krilex conflict only to face this new enemy.

That was the job though, right? We stood as the shield for all Alliance planets and their citizens within Alaran space. The very oath my father refused to take.

I’d been lucky they’d accepted me at all, considering my father’s decisions and that I hadn’t grown up on Alara.

Every successful mission was another step away from his dishonorable shadow.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Gambling helped. It was one of the few things that let me focus on the moment. Not the past, not the future, just the game. No stakes outside of the ones I chose. No surprises.

At least, that was the idea.

I stepped out of the gambling den, rolling my shoulders, letting the station noise settle around me. The usual background hum of announcements over the intercom, traders haggling, distant laughter from a bar I’d already won too much at.

Then—raised voices.

Security moving fast. A docking officer swearing into his comm about an unauthorized launch attempt.

I kept walking. Not my problem. Other people’s disasters were refreshingly not part of my job description today.

Then I hit Docking Bay Seven. A pulse of awareness hit me. So subtle I almost ignored it. Like a whisper in a crowded room. I spotted the open door of my newly acquired ship. The ramp was lowered.

But something wasn’t right.

My senses heightened as I went for my weapon, my hand pausing just above it. I quickened my pace as I stepped onto my ship and was hit by a strong smell of blood, sweat, and a subtle, sweet scent.

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