Page 33 of Possessed By the Dragon Alien
The service elevator took them down three levels to the docking bay. The doors opened to reveal a vast space filled with ships of every size and design. The air smelled of fuel and hot metal, and the constant hum of machinery vibrated through the floor.
“There,” Madrian said, pointing toward a small, but sleek silver ship nestled among a sea of spacecraft. “Bay 7-2B.”
They moved between the larger vessels, using them for cover. Nena’s heart beat hard against her ribs as they passed technicians, pilots, cargo handlers. Any one of them could sound an alarm if they recognized Madrian.
But no one looked twice at them. They were talking on communicators, hurrying to or from their ships, or otherwise just busy with their own schedules. She and Madrian were justanother couple making their way through the organized chaos of the docking bay.
Rien was waiting beside her ship, dressed in civilian clothes that made her look younger than her usual formal attire. She spotted them coming and activated the boarding ramp.
“You’re late,” she said as they approached.
“We ran into some complications,” Madrian said.
“I’m sure you did.” Rien’s gaze flicked between them, and Nena caught a hint of amusement in her expression. “The longer we delay, the higher the chance they’ll lock down the entire station.”
They hurried up the ramp. Rien’s ship was small, but it looked fast. The interior was all clean lines and efficient design, built for speed rather than comfort. Polished metal surfaces and recessed lighting made the cramped space look efficient. Nena could appreciate that. The space looked carefully organized, with storage compartments lining the walls, and complicated-looking stations that served purposes she could only imagine, tucked into alcoves. It looked like there were a few rooms near the back. The operator station featured seats that appeared to fit the form of whoever was sitting in them.
It was so vastly different than the crude equipment on Settlement 112-1; Nena marveled at how the rest of the quadrant lived, while her people had toiled with broken tools and used ground herbs instead of med stations.
“Strap in,” Rien said, settling into the pilot’s seat. “This is going to be interesting.”
Nena found a seat at one of the mystery stations and fumbled with the restraint system. Madrian appeared beside her, his hands sure and steady as he helped secure the straps.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’m not used to this.”
“It’s okay.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re likely to be chased. Try not to panic. Rien’s a very good pilot. And my aim isexcellent. Iwillreturn fire if we’re attacked.” The smile he gave her was strained. “I cannot promise to not kill anyone.”
She let out a gurgle of laughter. “I get it. Let’s get out of here.”
He strapped into a seat just behind Rien, but up a couple of steps. The ship lifted smoothly, rising through the docking bay’s field. She leaned forward, where she got a glimpse through the viewport. The shimmering dome was overhead and the gardens below, with the towers winking into the visual range as the ship turned. As a whole, the massive station looked like a twisted metal flower, all sharp angles and gleaming surfaces.
“So far, so good,” Rien said. “But they’ll—”
Alarms started blaring.
“Never mind,” Rien said. She pushed the ship into a steep climb. The sudden acceleration pressed Nena back into her seat. “They’ve noticed we’re gone.”
Red lights flashed across the console. On the tactical display, Nena could see other ships moving to intercept them. Fast ones.
“How many?” Madrian asked. She could see him, though her view was partially obstructed, and his voice came through the vessel’s comm system.
“Four pursuit craft,” Rien replied. “Maybe more launching now.”
“I can handle four.”
Nena watched him work, saw the way his demeanor changed as he fell into combat mode. This was what he’d been trained for. What he was good at.
The ship shuddered as weapon fire sparked off its shields.
“There’s the first one,” Rien said. “Can you—?”
“Pulse cannons charged,” he said. “Weapons array online. Returning fire.”
Heat from the ship’s weapons sent warmth into the cabin. Nena felt, rather than heard, the pulse cannon discharge. It wasa vibration that ran through everything, including the chair she sat on.
On the display, one of the pursuing ships veered away, trailing atmosphere.
“Nice shot,” Rien said. “But the shield dome is beginning its lockdown procedure around Axis Central. If those shields complete their formation, nothing will get in or out.”
