Page 95 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
His body goes limp. I catch it before it hits the floor, then drag him off to a corner. That should send a clear enough message to anyone else thinking of going near her.
I return to my pod. Sam is fast asleep.
I plan to get some rest too— I’ve got a fight coming up in the arena in a few days.
23-Ayden
Everything went exactly as planned.
I headed into the zone our informant had pointed out and left a few not-so-subtle signals trailing behind me—just enough to catch the attention of a pirate ship. They took the bait.
The electromagnetic pulse hit my two-seater without warning. I’d deliberately shut off the shielding systems in advance. A deep hum resonated through the hull, and in an instant, everything shut down. Lights. Engines. Life support. Even the thermal regulators went dead.
Cold crept in like a rising tide. Slow, heavy, suffocating.
Now, my breaths come shorter, struggling to draw in air that’s freezing and stale. My fingers tremble, numb. My body’s fighting, but I know I won’t last long. So much for a vacation. Maybe I should’ve let Vlad take this one.
Then, darkness.
The first phase of our plan went off without a hitch. They fell for it like total amateurs, didn’t see it coming—exactly what we’d hoped. Now the real game begins.
I wish I could say I felt confident. But this half-baked plan is more gamble than strategy, and the stakes are way too high for any mistakes.
Hours later, I’m dropped off at a base with a charming name: “The Red Arena.”
I grit my teeth. I hope with everything I’ve got that this is where they brought Sam. But even if it’s not, the tiny implanthidden in my jacket lining should be enough to lead the Confederation forces right to this hole.
I just hope she’s here. Because not knowing? That would be worse than anything.
The ship docks with a jarring bump. Whoever’s flying clearly skipped flight school. The smugglers drag me out of my cell and haul me toward the exit. My wrists are still cuffed, but I keep my head high.
We walk down the loading ramp.
I scan the surroundings carefully. It’s your standard space station—built from composite materials worn down by time and radiation. The outer walls are matte gray, streaked with exposed wiring and patchy repairs. Carbon fiber and polymetal plates cover the most damaged areas, forming a mismatched quilt of armor. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just another back-alley base like dozens of others.
A thin artificial atmosphere lets you move outside without a suit, though the air’s thick with ozone and industrial fumes. Vents hum constantly, filtering and recycling the breathable air.
I spot my two-seater nearby. It’s been towed and will probably be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
We cross the docking platform—a narrow catwalk suspended above the void, linking several oddly shaped buildings. The metal groans beneath our feet as we head toward the main structure.
At the entrance, a few humans in light armor stand guard, clearly used to this kind of cargo.
A smuggler gives me a shove.
“Move it. You’re about to meet the Boss,” he says.
“Oh wow, what an honor,” I shoot back with full sarcasm.
“Damn right. He doesn’t see just anyone. But your arrival... let’s just say it got some attention. He’s going to interrogate you.And since he’s a Srebat, don’t think for a second you’ll be able to lie to him.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. A Srebat? Could it be Noviosk, the former ruler of Vagantu? Already? If it is, Sam can’t be far.
The smuggler gives me another shove.
“Move. Lord Danuk’s waiting.”
Danuk? Damn it. I was hoping for Noviosk.
