Page 26 of Primal Bond

God. Finn’s anger flared, a spark catching dry tinder. “You’re just going to leave them there? To suffer?”

“This isn’t about playing hero, Finn. It’s about strategic moves. Rescuing one human doesn’t change the game.”

“Strategic moves?” Finn’s voice rose, trembling with rage. “Is that all you care about? Your precious strategy? What about doing what’s right?”

Zanik’s eyes flickered, a flash of something odd. It was gone in an instant, replaced by the icy mask he wore so well.

But Finn had seen it.

"Do we hit his ship as it approaches?" Kelara asked, speaking over Finn's turmoil like it didn't exist. "Maybe we can lay in wait somehow, catch him when he's distracted…"

"That would be easiest," Zanik agreed. "They'll have security, of course. We'll be in for a dogfight, and that could be dangerous. Rivek's associates tend to run with some heavy gunships, and the Ironclad's speed only helps so much. If we can get more intel, we might be able to find an angle…"

Their discussion flowed over Finn's head, distant.

Blowing up Rivek in his ship. They could kill him with one press of a button. Finally, Finn would have his revenge.

But now Finn knew that Rivek wasn't alone in there. Would revenge be worth it, if it meant killing another human too?

A human in the same hell Finn had been trapped in?

"No," Finn blurted out. The two Borraq stopped their discussion, turning their gazes on him. Mild annoyance in Kelara's eyes, just wanting to get the job done. Something else in Zanik's.

"We can get him on-board the station," Finn continued. "You don't need to risk the ship in a fight."

Finn’s heart raced as he pieced together everything he knew about Rivek. He began to speak, his voice trembling slightly but growing steadier with each word. “Rivek’s paranoid. He travels stealthily, always with a lot of armed men. Getting to him is usually impossible without a bloodbath."

"I know," Zanik said, his voice wry. "I've been trying to get close to him for years. He keeps his distance."

"But this club… it’s different, right? You know he's going to be there.” Finn stopped and looked at Zanik, whose frown deepened, but he wasn’t dismissing Finn’s words outright. Finn’s pulse quickened, sensing a glimmer of hope.

“This might be our only chance to get close to him without massive bloodshed,” Finn continued. “He’s going to be there, maybe even relaxed — well, as relaxed as that bastard ever lets himself get, anyway. It’s an opportunity.”

Zanik’s eyes narrowed, his expression calculating. He didn’t immediately shoot down the idea, which Finn took as a cautious victory.

“This does seem like a rare opportunity,” Zanik admitted, his tone thoughtful. “But there are complications. Human slaves are valuable, and the club is on a heavily armed space station. A space run by neutral mercenaries. It's a space for black market deals and underground activities. Places like that only stick around if guests know that their hosts can defend them."

He shook his head. "The crew who run that station won’t just let us attack the place and walk out again. And if we go in guns blazing to save this human,” Zanik continued, his voice cold and pragmatic, “Rivek will have no problem killing them to make a point. He’s ruthless, and he’ll use any leverage he has.”

Finn swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the words he was about to say. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could taste the bitter tang of fear and resolve.

He knew what he had to do.

“I’ve… I've got an idea,” Finn began, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. Zanik’s icy gaze bore into him, waiting. “We can’t just storm the place, and you’re right, Rivek would kill that human without a second thought if he felt threatened. But… what if we infiltrate the club instead?”

Zanik’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest sparking within the cold blue depths. Finn took a deep breath and continued, feeling the plan take shape in his mind.

“You act as a master,” Finn said, his voice firm. “And I'll be your slave."

Chapter twelve

Zanik stood in the docking bay of the Ironclad, his icy stare fixed on the viewport. The half-derelict space station loomed beyond, a chaotic amalgamation of rusting metal and flickering lights.

It was the kind of place where only the desperate and the damned gathered.

He gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white. He had faced countless dangers — battles, betrayals, the frontlines of war — but this felt different. Risking everything on this harebrained plan to take down Rivek wasmadness.

He repeated to himself that this was a strategic move. Once Rivek was out of the picture, Zanik would control all the smuggling routes in the sector. Control. Power. That was what this was about.

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