Page 39 of Pact with the Alien Devil

A familiar shadow moved behind them—tall, powerful, alien. Korvan had caught up.

“I’d reconsider that order,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the standoff.

The mercs spun, but Korvan was already moving. He grabbed the nearest one, twisting the man’s arm until it snapped with a sickening crack. The merc screamed as Korvan used him as a shield against fire from the others.

I dropped to one knee, taking aim at the mercenary on the right. My shot caught him in the chest, and he fell backward.

Plasma fire erupted around us. Korvan threw his human shield aside and charged the remaining two mercs. A bolt hit him in the side, but he barely slowed, continuing his attack with brutal efficiency. His fist connected with one merc’s jaw, the impact lifting the man off his feet.

The last mercenary fired wildly at Korvan, who took another hit to his shoulder before reaching the man and snapping his neck with one fluid motion.

He was a force of nature—unstoppable and unflinching. But even forces of nature weren’t invincible.

Korvan staggered slightly, his hand pressed to his side where the plasma bolt had hit him. The wound smoked slightly, the smell of burned flesh drifting to my nostrils.

“You’re hurt,” I said, moving to his side.

“It’s nothing,” he growled. “Where’s Miggs?”

A shot rang out, the bolt sizzling past my ear. We both dove for cover behind a nearby crate.

“That answer your question?” I peered around the edge. Miggs was backing toward his shuttle, firing wildly to keep us pinned.

“He’s not getting off this station,” Korvan said flatly, his jaw set with determination.

We moved in tandem, Korvan going right and me going left, creating a pincer movement that forced Miggs to retreat into a maintenance bay instead of reaching his ship.

Dead end.

Miggs knew it too. He spun around, his back to the wall, blaster trained on us as we cornered him. His face was slick with sweat, his breathing ragged. Blood soaked the sleeve where I’d shot him earlier.

“You think killing me will fix anything?” he spat, his expression desperate but defiant. “I’m not the only one who’s turned on you, Lieutenant.”

Korvan’s expression darkened, but he remained silent, his blaster leveled at Miggs’s chest.

I stepped forward, my own blaster trained on Miggs, and snarled, “You’ve been running long enough, Miggs. Time to pay for what you’ve done.”

“You don’t understand what you’re involved in,” Miggs said, his eyes darting between us. “The Spikes have contacts everywhere. They know about you two.” His gaze lingered on Korvan. “They know what you’re hiding.”

“Shut up,” I snapped.

“You’re just a pawn, Jann,” Miggs continued. “You always were. First Miggs’s patsy, now the Vinduthi’s pet.” He laughed bitterly. “At least I got paid for my betrayal. What are you getting?”

My finger tightened on the trigger. “The satisfaction of watching you answer for what you’ve done.”

“To who? The Fangs? The Alliance?” He shook his head. “Everyone’s corrupt. Everyone’s playing an angle. You think your Vinduthi boyfriend is any different?”

Korvan moved silently to my side, his presence solid and reassuring despite his injuries.

“Put the weapon down,” he ordered Miggs, his voice deadly quiet.

Miggs smiled, a twisted, ugly thing. “No. I don’t think I will.”

KORVAN

Blood ran down Miggs’ arm from the blast wound, a stark crimson against his pale skin. Still, that twisted smile stayed fixed on his face as he kept the blaster trained on us. My senses registered everything at once - the stench of scorched metal from our earlier firefight, the distant hum of machinery through the station walls, Iria’s measured breathing beside me.

“You think you’re the predator here, Korvan? You’re not. You’re the prey. The Black Spikes know everything—your plans, your weaknesses, even abouther.” Miggs gestured toward Iria with a sneer.

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