Page 2 of Primal Vow

There was something bitter in her voice. Rhys looked out the viewport, not really seeing the storm-tossed clouds.

Borraq. Huge, horned aliens, with sharp teeth and muscles like rocks. The rumors about them, about what they did with the humans they captured… it wasn't worth thinking about.

Humans and Borraq had been at war for years. The Borraq home planet was deeply out of bounds for humans.

And now, this ship was going behind enemy lines.

The ship screamed as it tore through the atmosphere, metal protesting at the punishment. Rhys had been on enough space flights to know that re-entry was no gentle affair, but this… This was something else. It felt like the entire vessel was going to tear itself apart around them.

"Hey," he yelled to Jak, raising his voice to be heard over the racket. "How are we going to get this junkbucket back up again after we land?"

Jak grinned. "It's supposed to be like this. We want it to look like space garbage on the Borraq monitors, so they don't know we're in here. Don't worry, kid. Another ship is gonna pick us up when we're done."

Rhys's heart thundered in his chest. Once they were down, they had to rely on someone else to save them? That didn't sit right with him. He was used to saving his own hide.

But it wasn't like he had a choice.

"Here we go," the ship's pilot said, completely unconcerned. "Taking her down. Ten, nine, eight…"

The pilot's words cut through the chaos like a knife. Rhys looked to him, wide-eyed. The pilot — Cillian — was a man with a no-nonsense air about him, his face set into a mask of concentration. He was clearly focused on his job, and his job was stopping them from meeting a fiery death.

Settling a spaceship onto a planet's surface was an affair that took skill and precision. Rhys had seen plenty of pilots do it, their hands moving on their controls with the grace of dancers. It was always a moment of calm at the end of a white-knuckled journey, a gentle confirmation that they had survived the worst of space travel and were now safely home.

This was not like those moments.

The ship slammed into the ground hard enough to nearly tear Rhys from his safety harness. He yelped, his teeth rattling in his skull.

"Down," Cillian said, completely unruffled. The man was like human Xanax. "Get moving, all."

They were on Vasz.

In the belly of the beast.

As everyone unbuckled themselves, moving with hushed tension, Jak clapped Rhys on the shoulder. "Don't worry, kid," he said. "You just focus on how much money you're going to make."

He didn't know why Jak bothered. There was no turning back now. He was in too deep.

Desperation, thy name is Rhys.

He swallowed down his rising panic, and tried to focus on the one thing that had driven him to this madness in the first place: money. He was going to get those numbers in his account, and then he was going to pay off his debts.

He was going to start a new life, one finally free of the crushing weight of debt. One where he was free to be himself.

The only thing that had got him through his life was the belief that one day, he'd get out of debt and have money of his own. And he knew exactly what he was going to do when he got it.

Paradise.

He was going to buy a little bit of land on one of the new colony planets, and he was going to live a real life. No more scraps for him. No more second-hand air, no more taking any job that would pay, no more scrounging for offcasts from what the rich threw away.

He was finally going to really live.

When the ship's doors began to open, a blast of hot, acrid air hit Rhys in the face. Despite the chill that ran down his spine, he could feel a wave of eager anticipation sweep through the other miners.

He could have his freedom if he just persevered through this hell. The money would be his before he knew it, and then he'd be set for life.

Rhys grit his teeth. This was only temporary.

Soon, he'd be free.

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