Page 2 of Fated to the Dragon Warlord

“Stand back for the master.”

I shake my head and don’t even try to hide my smile, leaving her to her work as I progress further down the passage to add to my map. Mostly I’m plotting places we can hide, or potentially the aliens can’t get to us, like the conduits we mostly use to get around. Either they can’t or don’t want to follow us, as so far we’ve evaded capture.

I don’t like to think what will happen if they do catch us. I haven’t mentioned to Rosalie the room I found which was hung with what looked like body parts and stank like death.

She doesn’t need to know.

“Any luck?” I ask her.

“Not yet,” Rosalie says with the now familiar tone in her voice which means she’s concentrating. “These aren’t like the other cabins I’ve hacked. I think they’re something else.”

“You can hack anything. You are awesome,” I call back to her.

I’m rewarded by another snort of laughter. After all, she’s from Sheffield and I’m from the Home Counties. Nothing has ever been awesome.Quite nice, perhaps, or evennot so bad. But neverawesome.

There’s another door at the end of the dimly lit passage. I approach it expecting absolutely nothing, but instead it slides open with a grinding sound. The light changes from greasy white to flashing blue, and a piercing klaxon has me covering my ears.

“What did you do?” Rosalie yells at me. I can hardly hear her.

“Nothing,” I mouth back. “We should get out of here.”

I put one foot out of the doorway, and I’m confronted by a black clad alien. He’s huge, well over six foot in height and with tentacles which writhe at his back and over his head. The helmet he wears obscures his face, but I suspect he doesn’t breathe air, given it has long tubes extending like whiskers from the front.

“Run!” I scream at Rosalie as it lunges for me.

I skip to one side as the claws rake past my shoulder, only catching the very ends of my long, dirty hair. I slide down the metal floor, turning onto my back as I see Rosalie darting back into the passage with the cabins. The alien advances on me, blocking my way to her. Her pretty face peers out.

“Go! Hide somewhere. I’ll find you, I promise,” I yell, hoping she can hear at least some of what I said as I scramble to my feet.

“No, Kerra, come back.” I hear her voice over the sound of the alarm. “I think these are es-ca- p-ds!”

Her words are cut up by the alarm ramping up another notch. Was she trying to say she found a way to escape?

Whether I triggered the alarm or not, this is as close an encounter with the crew on board as we’ve had, and I considerwe’ve been lucky if this one is anything to go by. I’m being attacked by a giant shrimp and it’s less fun than I imagined.

I back up, waiting for the thing to make a move until I hit a bulkhead. It provides me with two possible exits, and without thinking, I race down the righthand one. Behind me, I hear the sound of pounding feet. As it’s bigger than me, I already know it’s gaining.

The passage opens up, and I risk a look behind me. The black humanoid shrimp is close, too close, the horrible clawed appendage reaching for me again.

But rather than catching me, he’s jerked away, his head coming off his body and the two parts spiraling through the air. I probably should have noticed the bulkhead before I ran into it, but a sudden dismemberment is going to be distracting at the best of times.

I hit the wall, hard, sending me sprawling. Beneath me, the metal of the floor vibrates. I push myself up onto my elbows, looking for an escape route.

There isn’t one.

There is only another dark figure, advancing on me as I contemplate my fate.

I know this isn’t going to end well for one of us. And I very much expect it’s going to be me.

DARAX

Irelease a long stream of smoke from my nostrils as the ship puts down a short distance from me. I finger the pulsar rifle slung around my neck. I don’t need the weapon, but the owners of the grubby cargo vessel don’t know any different.

The skin on my neck itches, and I resist the desire to scratch at it. My shed is due, much to my annoyance, and having the module attached to my neck, the one projecting my disguise is not helping.

But if I get the element of surprise on this occasion, the discomfort will be worth it.

Sarkarnii don’t usually surprise anyone. We’re far too distinct, far too great a bunch of predators to bother. But sometimes a disguise is called for.

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