Page 40 of Akur

“The guards will not check here,” the Tasqal continued.

She couldn’t believe it. Glancing down at Akur, she noticed his brows were drawn tight, and that he was staring down at the ground between his feet. One fist clenched and unclenched over the hilt of his sword. This was killing him—having to sit here, wounded, while their enemy stood before them.

Her finger tightened on the trigger. The logical part of her brain knew the blaster wouldn’t do much damage—there was just a small slit in the door, and her aim wasn’t that good. But she wanted to wipe that calm certainty from the Tasqal’s voice. Wanted to make it feel just a fraction of the pain it had caused.

Her hands shook with the effort of restraining herself. “You…” The word came out as barely more than a whisper. “You did this. All of it. The attacks, the base.You took me from my planet.” Her voice broke as faces flashed through her mind: the family she’d left on Earth; the humans she’d met in this nightmare. All the rebels. And the last images she saw of the Restitution’s base.

Battered. Bloodied. Burnt.

Destroyed.

“You did this.” Her hands shook. “And now you’re what? Playing games? Pretending to help while you lead us deeper into your trap?” Each word felt like it was being torn from her chest, years of carefully maintained professional distance crumbling in the face of this creature’s calm regard.

The Tasqal didn’t even blink. “I have a proposition.”

Its voice was eerily gentle, almost kind, and that made it so much worse. These were the beings that had slaughtered entire civilizations, and now one was offering help like some benevolent savior. She felt sick.

“I cannot guarantee your safety, Shum’ai. We have no need for you. But the human…the human has a better chance.” Those dark eyes shifted from Akur to her, and she felt rather than heard Akur growl again.

“Leave the human here and come with me.”

A laugh barked from Akur’s chest. “Try again.”

“It is not a trick,” the Tasqal said. “On Tasqal honor—”

“Yourhonor? What honor do your kin have?” To her surprise, the Tasqal looked away.

“Not much,” it said after a few moments. “There is not much I can do. But I can save you, Shum’ai. Potentially.”

So they were doing this. Bargaining with the enemy. There was no other choice. At any given moment, they had to make decisions based on the current circumstances—and the circumstances now involved making a deal with the literal devil.

“There is only space for one,” the Tasqal continued.

“Space for one?” She kept her blaster trained on the fiend. She’d seen holo-images of the species, but seeing one up close, even if it was just its eyes, was terrifying. “Space for onewhere?”

“A shuttle. We are sending it for a supply run. The Shum’ai can sneak on board…if he comes with me.”

“Forget it.” Akur’s deep voice rumbled at her back, and she stretched out her hand to stop him.

“And why can’t I go with him?”

The Tasqal’s dark eyes felt like they were leeching over her skin as it looked at her. Even the dim light didn’t hide that fact.

“The vessel flies on pre-programmed directives. It will collect supplies at a station in the outer reaches,” the Tasqal continued, its focus never leaving her face. “The autopilot docks at Station 459. To reach the internal airlock undetected…” It paused, and she could have sworn there was a slight change in its voice. Weariness. “You need to traverse the external hull. Exposure to the void. A Shum’ai’s biology can withstand the void for the required time. Humans cannot.”

Her breath paused. It was the first real chance of escape since their capture, dangling right in front of them. “Why should we trust you? You’re the reason we’re here.”

The Tasqal didn’t blink. Through the narrow slit in the door, he stared right through her. “I am not my people,” was all he finally said.

Swallowing hard, she turned away from him. The hair along her back stood on end the moment she did. Some sixth sense made her very aware the fiend still had its eyes on her.

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus. Her mind raced through the implications. No doubt Akur’s physiology differed from any other beingshe’d ever encountered. Back on the Restitution’s base, she’d been sure he’d died when the ship took her away. And then again here, he’d dived after her ship in the upper atmosphere and made it out alive.

He could heal quicker than anything she’d ever encountered before.

Her gaze slid to him where he’d propped himself against the table.

The look in his eyes made her pause. Restrained rage. Restrained bloodlust. He looked like a man that could kill. Would kill. Right now.

---