Page 32 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Anson laid down covering fire as the loading bot continued its rampage, now swinging wildly.
They reached Covak's position just as Ryke emerged from a side corridor, assault cannon thundering. The Reaper leader’s precise fire cut down two more enemy warriors.
"Careful with that!" Rann shouted as Covak reached for a discarded enemy weapon. "It's gene-locked with a failsafe." He caught himself, then added, "Standard… Imperial protocol."
"Fall back to theDream," Ryke bellowed over the chaos.
They retreated in coordinated pairs, leapfrogging between cover points. Davis kept Mira tucked against his side, watching her back as she used the loading bot to create havoc in their wake.
The ramp to the Lady's Dream appeared ahead—blessed safety just meters away. He caught his breath as a warrior broke cover from behind a maintenance hatch, weapon leveled at Mira.
Davis didn't think. He shoved her forward, spinning to place himself between her and the threat, raising his sidearm in one fluid motion.
Their shots crossed in midair. The M'Suun's blast sizzled past him, close enough to raise the hairs on his neck. His round took the operative through the throat, dropping him like a puppet with its strings cut.
“Gogogogo!”he ordered, pushing her ahead of him and using his bigger body to cover her as they pounded up the ramp. The moment they cleared the threshold, it began to rise, the Dream's engines already cycling to full power.
"Jex, we're clear! Go, go!" Ryke ordered, leaning against the bulkhead on one side of the ramp, his weapon trained on the ever-closing gap.
The Dream's engines roared, artificial gravity struggling to compensate as they rocketed away from the docking bay. Davis kept his feet, one arm still wrapped protectively around Mira's shoulders.
The adrenaline, or whatever had fueled him, began to ebb, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. He leaned against the bulkhead, still unwilling to release Mira completely.
She looked up at him, face flushed from exertion but unharmed.
"That was..." She swallowed. "What you did back there..."
"You saved us," he cut in. "With the loader. Quick thinking."
A small smile touched her lips. "I do play a lot of tactical sims."
The moment stretched, fragile and electric. For an instant, all the confusion of the morning, all the rage and strangeness faded away. There was just this… her eyes on his, the warmth of her pressed against him, alive and safe.
Then Covak's booming voice shattered the moment.
"Everyone check for injuries! That was too damn close!"
Mira stepped back and looked him over, her expression softening into concern.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly. "I thought I saw you get hit."
"I'm fine," he replied, surprised to find it was true. Whatever energy had coursed through him during the fight had left him exhausted but intact.
She nodded, relief visible in her expression.
He caught Rann looking at him across the ramp, but as soon as the pilot saw he’d noticed, he looked away, sliding something into a thigh pocket.
Davis frowned. He’d worked with the Reapers for years, and he’d thought he knew Rann. But there was a lot that didn’t fit about their pilot… a lot he hadn’t worked out. Not yet anyway.
That would have to wait, though. He had bigger things to think about right now. Like the impossible strength and speed that had moved through him during the fight. What the hell was happening to him?
The question echoed as he made his way toward the crew quarters, each step bringing a fresh wave of fatigue. Whatever was happening, he'd figure it out.
7
Metal against metal. The scrape of Jex's hands echoed through the medbay, setting Mira's teeth on edge. She flexed her fingers around her datapad, focusing on the pressure points against her palms instead of the knot tightening in her stomach.
Davis didn't flinch as the extraction needle slid into his arm. That deliberate blank mask, the one he’d worn since the trading post, was driving her insane.
