Page 72 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol. 1
I rush to the console. Noviosk’s file has arrived.
A list of nearly two hundred beings for sale fills the screen.
I immediately filter toHuman females. They’re ranked by value—and no surprise—Ileana is at the top.
My chest tightens. My head burns with rage.
In the photo, she’s tied up, arms raised above her head, completely exposed. My Dedicated Soul—pale, ashamed—has her eyes lowered. A Penubian stands beside her, whispering something in her ear with a twisted grin. Whatever he’s saying, it’s upsetting her. She looks up at the camera, her beautiful gray eyes filled with pain. Tears streak down her cheeks.
I memorize the Penubian’s face. I won’t forget it. And if I get the chance, he’s going to pay for what he’s done to her.
“She’s alive,”Wingo says gently.“She looks unharmed. Don’t worry—we’ll get her out.”
I let the emotion wash over me for a moment. Then I pull myself together.
I need a plan. I need to think. And I need to get us all out of here—alive.
First, I start organizing my thoughts. I list all the confirmed data, then the assumptions, and finally the possible options—with estimated success rates.
“Just like that!”Wingo says.
I glance at him, puzzled. I haven’t said a word in minutes.
“Your aura was all over the place—pain, confusion. Then it settled. Got structured. That’s how we’ll make it through this. We just need to stay sharp and make the right calls.”
“Okay, then help me recap what we know.”
Wingo nods.“Ileana’s on Vagantu. That’s confirmed.”
‘’Yeah, but where exactly? That big island we flagged earlier? Or somewhere else?’’I ask.‘’SILMAR, run another scan. Try to give us a population density estimate by zone’’
‘’Here’s the map!’’she replies.‘’You’ve already identified the main island—there are over two thousand people there, but I can’t be more precise. There are also a few isolated islets, about five to six miles out. I can’t detect the ones that are just a few inches below the surface. Much farther out, around 185 miles away, there’s a small island with about fifty people clustered together. The rest of the planet is just scattered islets and open water.’’
I study the map, trying to think like Noviosk. What would someone like him set up to manage both slave trafficking and secret dealings with a Confederation traitor?
Then it hits me—something Noviosk said earlier.
“Wingo, if you were one of the top smugglers in the sector, dealing with both slave traders and a traitorleaking tech plans, would you host both operations in the same place?”
“Absolutely not. Too risky. What if the traitor got recognized?”
“Exactly. But if you felt untouchable, you’d keep them close—just nottooclose. A few hundred miles would seem more than enough to keep everything under control from a distance. The big island’s probably where the slaves, sellers, buyers, and guards are.”
“And the smaller island with fifty people?”Wingo continues.“That’s where he meets the traitor.”
“Right. Noviosk’s private base. His guards, his staff. And the traitor. He turned down my offer for tech plans, said he already had a supplier. Besides me, only a Confederation officer could provide that kind of intel.”
“Makes sense,”Wingo agrees.“But we’ve got a problem. We can’t handle Ileana’s rescue and the traitor investigation at the same time.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “But we might not have a choice. SILMAR, could you show me the list of slaves again?” I ask. “Maybe their origins will give us some clues.”
For the next twenty minutes, Wingo and I scroll through the files—page after page of people who lost everything just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Look at that!”Wingo points to the screen.“Looks like several colonists arrived in one batch. All from BN-35, headed for—”
“Jaga-18!” I cut in. “You got it, Wingo. That convoy vanished mid-transfer three weeks ago… and now they’re here. Too bad the sellers are only listed by number. No names.”
“Wait, wait—look further down. Same thing happened to a convoy going from BN-35 to Jaga-16. Someone on BN-35 knows about this traffic.”
