Page 8 of Legacy for the Alien Warrior

“Follow me. Quickly.”

They moved through the ship to a larger hold area filled with crates and equipment. Thraxar pressed a sequence on a seemingly ordinary wall panel, and a section of the floor slid silently open, revealing a dark space below. Her heart beat even faster.

“It is not large,” he warned. “Will that bother the child?”

“No. If anything it will give him a feeling of safety.”

She didn’t mention the fact that it horrified her. Another bang on the hull, louder this time, and his head snapped towards the sound.

“I must answer before they become more aggressive,” he said. “The compartment has emergency lighting and air circulation. Once inside, press here—” he indicated a small depression in the wall “—to seal it from within. I am the only one who will be able to open it from the outside.”

She looked at the dark ominous hole, and tried to breathe.

“Will there be enough air?” she asked shakily.

“The ventilation system is separate from the ship’s main system,” he assured her. “You will have sufficient oxygen.”

The banging intensified.

“We need to go now,” she told Rory, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s like a special hiding place.”

Rory moved towards the opening without hesitation, peering down with curiosity rather than fear before jumping down into it. She managed to control her shaking hands enough to followhim into the compartment. At least it was larger than it had appeared from above—perhaps eight feet by six, with a ceiling high enough for her to sit upright.

Thraxar crouched at the opening, his big body blocking the light.

“I will return for you when it is safe.”

Their eyes met, and something in his gaze—a steadiness, a certainty—made her nod.

“We’ll be waiting,” she said.

As the panel slid shut above them, plunging them into darkness, she did her best not to panic. She told herself she needed to be calm for Rory’s sake, but he was the one who found her hand in the dark and squeezed it three times.

A soft blue light activated, illuminating the space with a gentle glow. Rory looked perfectly calm in the azure light, and she prayed her face didn’t reveal her own fear as she reached over to lock the compartment.

“You’re being very brave,” she whispered, pulling him close.

A few minutes later she heard the heavy tread of boots and muffled voice—Thraxar’s deep rumble and the sharper tones of the guards.

She strained to hear, but caught only fragments:

“…reported incident…”

“…fugitive female and defective offspring…”

Her jaw tightened at the description. Defective. As if Rory were a malfunctioning machine rather than a child who experienced the world differently.

“What’s in these crates?” a voice demanded.

“Medical supplies,” Thraxar said calmly. “Bound for the Veridian system.”

“Open them.”

A scraping sound as a crate lid was removed.

“Satisfied?” Thraxar asked.

A grunt. “Check the rest of the hold.”

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