Page 6 of Primal Vow

Taryn's blood ran hot with fury at the sight of the miners. The presence of humans in his clan's territory was an insult, a slap in the face. The Borraq had sacrificed and fought for this world, spilling blood to protect it from all outside threats. For humans to come and despoil it for their own greedy purposes…

He swallowed the fury down. Now was not the time for it. He was a leader, and he had young warriors looking to him for guidance. He couldn't afford the luxury of his own emotions. He needed a clear head to assess the situation and formulate a plan.

In the open clearing, a handful of humans moved about. They shifted between the tunnels and the ship, moving small canisters of whatever it was that they were extracting from the ground.

There weren't many of them, definitely not the attack force Taryn had first feared. They moved swiftly, focused on their tasks, without talking.

And more importantly, only a few of them had weapons. Taryn's eyes narrowed as he picked them out. A few humans had guns on their hips — supervisors? — but most of the miners only wore protective equipment.

Taryn's mind raced. This was an opportunity. The Borraq could strike swiftly, before the humans even knew what had hit them. They could take the supervisors by surprise, swiftly overpower any resistance, and then pick off any that remained.

It was a swift and decisive plan, the kind of plan that Borraq preferred. The young warriors were eager for action, and they looked up at Taryn with expressions of fierce determination. They were ready to follow his lead, ready to prove themselves as true guardians.

Taryn's jaw was set in a firm line, his eyes narrowed in focus. He was ready to make his choice.

It was time to act.

It was time for payback.

Chapter four

The planet was hot, the work was hard, and Rhys was pretty sure that the people that he was working for were all completely insane.

He was exhausted, sweat trickling down his back underneath his heavy protective gear. He blinked as he emerged into the too-bright sunlight, taking off his helmet and looking around for the water supply.

He'd spent the entire week being worked to the bone, digging deep into Vasz's soil, hunting for… for…

For whatever it was that the crew were after. No-one had actually bothered to tell him what it was.

Rhys slugged back lukewarm water, wetting his dusty throat, and frowned down at his day's work: a small, hand-held canister. From the outside, it certainly didn't look like anything special.

But down in the mining shafts, it was something else. There, he was surrounded by veins of the stuff, a green mineral. When he shone a light on it, it glowed back. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before on any spaceport or trade dock.

Whatever it was, the crew were clearly paranoid about the stuff. They handled it like it was fragile. He'd been given very strict instructions on how to mine around it, and how to extract it with the gentlest of handling. It took him a day of backbreaking work to carefully fill one small container.

Whatever this was, he hoped it was worth it.

Like Jak had promised Rhys, they were clearly going to be very rich when this haul was over… but they were also very nervous about something. Whenever Rhys wasn't down in some miserable alien hole in the ground, he heard the rest of the crew arguing in furious whispers. Whether they had enough of the mineral yet, and whether they could call the job done and get moving…

Rhys had a healthy sense of self-preservation; he didn't ask too many questions. It wasn't his job to know what the stuff was, just to get it out of the ground and to the buyer at the end of the job. As long as the credits materialized, he didn't care if the stuff was used for powering space stations, making weapons, or if it was some kind of freaky alien aphrodisiac — as long as he got paid, he'd keep digging.

Once he had his money, he'd start his new life. Somewhere from away from starports, or alien hellholes.

A little plot of land on some colony planet, like in the holovids. Somewhere he could be free from worrying about money every single damn day, free from people trying to exploit him, free from cramped quarters and recycled air.

Somewhere to call his own.

And maybe even someone to share it with him.

"Hey, don't daydream on us!"

Jak was staring at him. The asshole was ready to yell at Rhys for anything that he thought he was doing wrong. That slimy fake friendliness he'd shown Rhys in the ship had rapidly disappeared the instant they'd landed.

Rhys bit back a curse. Even just getting some water was too much of a delay for the likes of these guys.

So much for an easy job.

Rhys wiped his mouth, and picked up his helmet again. Time to get back to business…

---