Page 9 of Pact with the Alien Devil

As I left the room, following Iria’s path out of the bar, I found myself wondering what the next month would bring. Smugglers were notorious for their unpredictability, their tendency toward self-preservation above all else. Working closely with one would require vigilance.

Yet something told me Iria Jann would prove to be more complex than the typical criminal I dealt with. The way she’d pushed the package away when Miggs fired, warning me instead of using the distraction to escape. The concern, however fleeting, for a man who’d betrayed her. The fierce protection of her ship.

Interesting. Potentially troublesome. Definitely worth watching.

IRIA

Itriple-checked the manual override on the airlock before I pressed my thumb to the scanner. TheStarfall’sentry hatch slid open with a hiss, welcoming me home.

“Don’t touch anything,” I warned, not looking back at the Vinduthi enforcer following me.

My boots hit the familiar metal grating of the entry corridor, and for just a second, I closed my eyes. Familiar smells washed over me—recycled air with undertones of engine oil, the faint metallic tang of the cooling system, and the lingering scent of the Balosian trish I’d brewed that morning. Home.

A moment’s peace before heavy footsteps destroyed it.

Korvan ducked through the hatch, his broad shoulders nearly scraping both sides of my ship’s narrow entry corridor. His presence immediately filled the space, making my modest freighter feel claustrophobic.

“Your ship is... compact,” he said, eyes scanning every detail.

“Not all of us need excess space to compensate for something,” I replied, brushing past him toward the cockpit.

He smiled, revealing sharp canines. “And not all of us feel the need to deflect with crude humor.”

I ignored that. “Cockpit’s this way. Try not to break anything on your way through.”

TheStarfallwasn’t built for comfort or luxury. She was a workhorse—modified, patched, and enhanced over years until barely anything original remained. Her corridors were narrow, her quarters small, but her engines were top-grade and her cargo holds had a few special features that customs officials rarely discovered.

Korvan followed me, moving with unexpected grace for someone his size. His gray skin faded in the dim corridor, the orange markings on the left side of his face standing in stark contrast.

“This ship has seen better days,” he observed, running a hand along a patched section of wall.

“She’s seen worse, too.” I slapped his hand away. “And I told you not to touch anything.”

He withdrew his hand, but not before I noticed the calluses that covered his palm—a fighter’s hands, not just those of a crime boss.

“Your precious ship will survive my touch,” he said.

We reached the cockpit, and I dropped into the pilot’s seat, my fingers automatically running through the pre-flight sequence. The worn leather chair molded to my body, the only place in the universe that truly fit me.

Korvan stood behind me, still inspecting everything with those unnervingly attentive eyes. “Where’s my seat?”

I gestured to the co-pilot chair without looking up. “That heap of patched leather on your right.”

“It’s small.”

“You’re big. Life’s unfair that way.” I continued the startup sequence, taking perverse pleasure in every beep and whir that felt like home to me and probably meant nothing to him. “Buckle in or don’t. Your funeral if we hit turbulence.”

The co-pilot’s chair creaked in protest as Korvan lowered himself into it. I glanced over despite myself. He looked ridiculous—all long limbs and broad shoulders crammed into a seat designed for someone considerably smaller.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

“Exceedingly.”

“Good. Now shut up and let me fly.” I tapped the navigation console. “Where exactly are we going? You mentioned an abandoned mining outpost, but I need coordinates.”

Korvan pulled a data chip from his pocket and held it out. “Everything you need is on here. Coordinates, security codes, detailed mission parameters.”

I hesitated before taking it, my fingers carefully avoiding contact with his. “Let me guess. If I try to access anything else on this chip, it’ll fry my systems?”

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