Page 72 of New World

The moment he reoriented, he changed tactics—going after a merchant who was too slow to get out of the way.

Mei closed the distance in two steps, her body moving in a blur.

Zoak’s right claw swung toward her ribs—she deflected it with an inside parry, redirecting his momentum downward. He swiveled and came around with his left blade up—she turned her hip, twisting her body just enough to avoid the lethal arc, then slammed her forearm against his wrist to knock it aside.

He tried to catch her with his tail—she anticipated it, dropping into a low stance, sweeping her leg under his, and forcing him off-balance.

As he stumbled, she used his momentum against him—pivoting and striking his knee joint with precision, making him stagger back.

Zoak hissed in frustration and pain. His movements were disconnected—dangerous, fast, but lacking a seamless flow. He relied on brute strength, overwhelming his opponents with relentless attacks, but he wasn’t efficient in close combat.

Mei had just learned everything she needed to know.

The shrill sound of whistles cut through the night, signaling settlement security forces approaching.

Zoak snarled, his eyes flashing. “This isn’t over.”

Mei watched as he turned and fled, vanishing into the back exit of the bar.

Mei exhaled slowly, collecting her cloak off the back of a chair and adjusting it to cover her body. She wasn’t worried about Zoak’s threat. She had what she came for.

She pulled her hood up, stepping aside and offering the bartender a quiet bow of apology before slipping through the shifting bodies.

Her gaze swept the area as she exited.

Zoak would retreat—at least for now. He would reassess, lick his wounds, and come back stronger. His ego had been wounded tonight, and his rage would only fuel his recklessness. If he was smart, he would try to eliminate them from a distance, but he wouldn’t. The fight tonight made the need for close contact imperative to his identity.

It also made him as dangerous as Andri Andronikos, because he would be unpredictable.

Mei let the thought settle as she faded into the shadows of the night.

Her path was clear. Now, she needed to share what she had learned and warn the others.

18

The air was thick with the scent of warm metal, starship fuel, and the faint spice of Kryla’s market drifting from the settlement beyond the towering walls. The landing bay was illuminated by soft, ground-level lights, their dim golden glow casting elongated shadows against the stone pathways and the sleek hulls of docked ships.

The settlement’s containment wall loomed high, its reinforced metal plating reflecting the soft glow of the stars. A large circular blast gate was set into the far end, partially open, allowing a stream of workers to pass in and out as they transferred cargo from the ships to the storage bays and merchant stalls. The night was alive with the rhythmic hum of machinery, the distant murmur of conversations, and the occasional hiss of hydraulics as loading ramps extended or retracted.

Mei stepped lightly along the stone-paved landing platform, her senses still sharp, her mind still turning over every movement of her fight with Zoak. The echoes of their clash were etched into her muscles, her body still humming from the precision of each counter, each strike. The fight had been instructive, but it had also been a warning. Zoak would be back. And next time, he wouldn’t run.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her, but she wasn’t cold. No, she was still in battle mode, her awareness of her surroundings heightened. She moved to the side, letting a crew of dockworkers pass, their arms laden with crates of supplies they had brought for the settlement.

She waited, watching as they disappeared into the streets beyond, before she turned back toward the ship and froze. Her breath caught.

Dorane was standing near the edge of the landing pad, speaking with Ash, Kella, and another man that looked vaguely familiar. The tall, dark-haired man, his posture calm, his expression unreadable—but it wasn’t the stranger who held her attention.

It was the poised woman beside him.

Julia.

The sound that left Mei’s throat was involuntary, a sharp, disbelieving cry of delight and relief. Julia’s head snapped up at the same time, her face lighting up like a sunburst, her eyes widening.

Mei surged forward, and Julia did the same, their movements colliding as they threw their arms around each other, Mei pressing her face against Julia’s shoulder, feeling the solid, undeniable presence of her friend.

For a moment, the universe felt still.

“I’m so glad you are alive,” Mei breathed against Julia’s hair.

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