Page 12 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Between matches, while she was navigating the selection menus, she noticed something new. There was a small credit counter displayed in the corner of the interface. She frowned and kept an eye on it. When the numbers ticked upward slowly as she progressed, she realized it was tracking credits. A few more queries in the system and she tracked it to a payment account under her name.
Her throat tightened as she watched the numbers climb. It wasn't much, pocket change compared to what the mercenaries earned on jobs, but tears welled in the corners of her eyes. She wasn't just playing. She wasearning. She could pay the Reapers back for their kindness and for letting her live here with them.
3
Mira walked onto the bridge with Spot skittering along behind her. The little drakeen’s legs tapped against the metal deck plates, testing each step as if it still couldn’t believe its salvation from the scrapyard. The bridge systems hummed on standby, status lights blinking across various consoles.
Anson hunched over the main tactical console; he didn’t look up when she approached.
Spot chirped, brushing against a power coupling. A spark jumped, making him skitter away in fright.
“Keep that thing away from critical systems,” Anson snapped, eyes narrowed. “Those cores aren’t pets; they’re weapons.”
Spot made a buzzing sound, suspiciously like a mechanical raspberry, then ducked behind her legs.
“It’s okay—Jex figured out that he’s been decommissioned for years,” she said, leaning down to run her fingers across Spot’s smooth casing. “Pretty sure his kill-protocols are buried under about seven system resets and a healthy dose ofplease don’t space me.”
She dropped into the chair beside Anson, grimacing as she sank too deep into padding designed for seven-foot Latharians.Draanth, she hated feeling small.
“Feeds are online,” Anson said, tapping controls. Five separate views appeared on the main screen. “Team deployment, standard diamond formation.”
“Five feeds? Where’s Jex?”
“He’s in the combat shuttle,” Anson replied, pulling up an orbital path on the secondary display. “He’s the backup extraction if draanth goes sideways.”
The screens flickered, then stabilized, giving her a five-way view as the Reapers positioned themselves around a hotel lobby. She caught sight of Davis as he moved, her pulse racing with each glimpse. It was hard to deny the effect he had on her, harder still to figure out what to do about it.
“The client is expected momentarily,” Ryke’s voice came through crisply, more professional than she was used to.
Anson leaned forward and keyed the mic. “Comms check, sound off.”
“Ryke, solid.”
“Rann here.”
“Covak. Ready to tear shit up.”
“Davis. Clear signal.”
“Jesh, monitoring perimeter.”
A sound to her right drew her attention. She looked down, smiling as Spot scrambled up the side of her chair. The drakeen hauled itself onto the armrest, balancing on its hind legs like an attentive meerkat.
“Clever boy,” she chuckled.
Anson rolled his eyes. “It’s a war machine, not a pet.”
“Tell that to him.” She patted her lap, and Spot immediately scuttled onto it, circling twice before settling. Its internal systems vibrated against her thighs, oddly comforting.
On-screen, the hotel lift doors parted and a tall figure with purple skin stepped out. Even by alien standards, he was a spectacle: skin catching the light like polished chrome and, instead of hair, tentacles that coiled continuously around his head.
“The Reapers! Oh yes! Only the best for Gael Stormix!” His voice blasted through the comms, loud enough to make her wince. “Expensive, yes, but Gael Stormix’s adoring fans deserve the peace of mind knowing Gael Stormix is protected by the most feared mercs in the sector! Everyone must know Gael Stormix only hires the best!”
The flamboyant rock star gestured dramatically toward Jesh, whose shoulder-mounted weapon pods gave her an intimidating silhouette. “She is… unusual. Exotic!” he said, sidling her way in what Mira supposed might count as a seductive sashay.
A low growl rumbled through Covak’s audio feed, primal and possessive.
Jesh turned her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. “Exotic,” she replied, “and very married.”
