Page 94 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
Davis moved closer, his larger frame blocking her from the others. Since his transformation had stabilized six weeks ago, he'd adjusted to his new body with surprising ease. He stood several inches taller now, broader across the shoulders, his eyes permanently ringed with gold.
"Anyone who gives you trouble answers to me." His voice carried that deeper resonance that still sent shivers through her when they were alone.
"I can handle myself." She straightened her shoulders, tapping the pulse pistol concealed beneath her gauntlet. "Besides, I have backup."
Spot chirped from her feet, his makeshift service unit disguise complete with regulation markings and a small antenna that bobbed with each movement. His optical sensors flashed twice in acknowledgment of her words.
"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Covak grumbled, scratching at the green paint covering every visible inch of his massive frame. The Vorrtan medic looked miserable in his orc costume. "Thisfrexxingpaint itches."
Jesh patted his arm, resplendent in her Valkyrie armor, silver breastplate gleaming under the shuttle lights. "Because we're a team, and teams support each other." She adjusted her winged helmet. "Besides, you look very intimidating."
"I'm always intimidating," Covak muttered, then waggled his eyebrows. "Just ask my mate. I intimidate her every night in our quarters."
"Get a room, you two," Ryke called from the front of the shuttle, adjusting the golden laurel crown nestled in his hair. The reaper leader had embraced the Greek god costume with disturbing enthusiasm. The simple white toga draped over one shoulder left most of his muscular torso exposed, the fabric ending mid-thigh.
"Approaching final docking sequence," Rann announced from the pilot's seat. "Station security has cleared our credentials."
Ryke nodded. "Remember the plan. We're here to enjoy the convention, nothing more. Rann secures the shuttle. The rest of us stick together."
"Except during the VIP demo," Mira added, her stomach fluttering at the thought. "That's just me and Spot."
The shuttle shuddered as docking clamps engaged. Hydraulics hissed as pressure equalized. Her pulse quickened. Six weeks ago, she couldn't have imagined returning to human space, let alone attending something like this as an invited player.
Davis had presented the tickets with studied casualness, as if acquiring VIP passes to the most exclusive gaming event in the sector was no big deal. It had taken her three days to drag the truth out of him. He'd pulled strings with his NOMAD contacts, calling in favors he'd saved for years.
"For you," he'd said when she'd asked why. "Because it matters to you."
The airlock cycled open. Rann went through his shutdown sequence as the others gathered their gear. She felt Davis's hand at the small of her back, a silent reassurance.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded, more to convince herself than him. "Ready."
They disembarked into the bustling docking bay. The noise hit her first as hundreds of voices echoed against the metal walls, and announcements blared over speakers. Then the smells… recycled air tinged with food aromas from nearby vendors, machinery lubricant, and the distinct odor of too many excited humans in confined spaces.
Rann leaned in the airlock as they trooped out. "Have fun. Don't get into trouble."
Ryke laughed, the sound carrying across the bay. His costume had already attracted appreciative glances from passing humans. "When do we ever get into trouble?"
"Constantly," Rann replied dryly. "That's why you need me."
Mira looked up to scan the signs, spotting the convention center indicators. "This way."
The group moved through the station corridors, drawing stares and whispers. Most assumed Ryke and the others were humans in elaborate alien costumes rather than actual aliens in costume. The irony wasn't lost on Mira.
"Game-Con '45," Covak read from the massive banner spanning the convention center entrance. "Biggest gathering of nerds in human space."
"That's not what it says," Jesh corrected, nudging him with her elbow.
The entry hall bustled with attendees in various game-inspired costumes. Holographic displays showed upcoming game releases, while vendors hawked everything from replicas to performance-enhancing supplements. Spot stayed close to Mira's heels, chirping softly as his sensors constantly scanned the crowd.
She slowed down as they approached the security checkpoint. What if someone recognized her? Not as Salvation, but as Mira Ingram, fugitive clinical assistant who'd disappeared during an alien attack on her workplace?
Davis noticed immediately, his hand finding hers. "Head up. You belong here."
She squeezed his fingers, took a breath, and stepped forward.
The security officers barely glanced at their credentials, more concerned with checking for weapons than verifying identities. One bored guard ran a scanner over Spot, nodded at the service unit designation, and waved them through.
