Page 20 of Stolen By the Wraiths
"It's nothing," I said, my voice rough. I stepped towards her, my hands coming up to frame her face. "Are you alright?"
"I am now," she said, her hands covering mine. "You magnificent, terrifying bastard."
The docking bay was just ahead. The familiar hum of the Raptor's engines was a song of home. We were almost there. But I knew, with a cold certainty, that Vain wouldn't make it that easy. The final stretch would be the most dangerous.
ALIX
The burn on his side was an angry red against his bronze skin, the fabric of his shirt scorched away. A wave of possessive fury washed through me, so intense it made my vision swim. Someone had dared to harm what was mine. They would pay.
"It's just a graze," Ressh said, but I saw the tight line of his jaw, the way his muscles bunched as he tried to ignore the pain.
"We'll have Solren look at it on the ship," I said, my voice tight. I pulled him forward, my hand gripping his. "We have to move. Now."
The final corridor to the commercial docking ring was chaos. Civilian transports were locked down, their crews staring out of viewports with wide, frightened eyes. Station security, hopelessly outmatched, were exchanging sporadic fire with more of Vain's black-clad soldiers. We were running directly into a firefight.
"They're trying to pin us here," I realized, my mind racing. "Keep us away from the Raptor's private bay."
"They won't succeed," Ressh said, his determination a solid wall I could lean against.
We didn't have time for stealth. We ran, weaving through abandoned luggage carts and cargo containers. Ressh moved slightly ahead of me, his body a shield, deflecting incoming fire with terrifying precision. I was the navigator, the saboteur, my mind a whirlwind of tactical possibilities.
"The station's comm system!" I yelled over the din of weapons fire. "If I can get to a public terminal, I can broadcast a false emergency on the security channels. Draw them away."
"There," Ressh grunted, pointing towards a public information kiosk fifty meters ahead, right in the middle of the crossfire.
"Cover me," I said, and broke from our path, sprinting towards the terminal.
Plasma bolts sizzled around me, impacting the floor and sending showers of sparks into the air. I saw Ressh plant his feet, his return fire a blistering, disciplined fusillade that forced Vain's soldiers to dive for cover. He was giving me the opening I needed, trusting me completely.
I slammed into the kiosk, my fingers flying across the interface. The public system was a joke, its firewalls pathetically weak. I bypassed them in seconds, gaining access to the station's primary security network and typing a series of commands.
// Priority Alpha Alert: Containment breach in Sector Gamma-7. All available security units respond immediately. Quarantine protocols engaged. //
The message blasted across every security channel on the station. On the terminal's display, I watched as icons representing Vain's soldiers hesitated, their orders suddenly conflicting. Some started to pull back, moving towards Gamma-7.
It was the opening we needed.
"Done!" I shouted, sprinting back towards Ressh. "Let's go!"
We ran for the private docking bay, the sounds of the firefight behind us lessening as my false report sowed chaos. The hangar door to Bay 7 was visible now, the sleek, predatory lines of the Raptor waiting for us beyond. The ramp was already lowering. Malrik stood at the top, his feather crest slicked back, a pulse rifle in his hands. Jessa was in the cockpit, her face a mask of concentration as she kept the ship's engines hot.
We were twenty meters away when a new figure stepped out from behind a stack of cargo containers, blocking our path. It was Helena Crask, the woman from the lounge. But she wasn't drunk anymore. Her eyes were cold and sober, and in her hand was a weapon I didn't recognize—a sleek, silver device that hummed with a sickening energy.
"You were a mistake," she said, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. She raised the weapon. "The Director doesn't like loose ends."
Ressh moved to intercept her, but I was faster. I didn't have time to draw my pistol. I threw the heavy datapad from my belt like a discus. It spun through the air, catching her square in the face. She staggered back, stunned, her shot going wide. The energy bolt hit a nearby power conduit, which exploded in a shower of blue sparks.
That was all the opening Ressh needed. He closed the distance and disarmed her with brutal efficiency, the silver device clattering to the floor.
We didn't wait to see what happened next. We scrambled up the ramp of the Raptor, the metal cool beneath my hands. The moment our feet cleared the deck, the ramp began to rise, sealing with a heavy, final thud. I leaned against the bulkhead, gasping for air, the adrenaline finally beginning to fade.
Through the cockpit viewport, I watched Kairos Station shrink behind us as Jessa pushed the engines to their limit. We had made it. We were safe.
I turned to Ressh. He was looking at me, his amber eyes filled with a mixture of awe, pride, and a raw, possessive hunger that made my breath catch. He crossed the distance between us in two long strides and pulled me into his arms, his mouth crashing down on mine in a kiss that was all victory, relief, and the promise of a very thorough claiming.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless. The rest of the crew gave us a wide berth, their expressions a mixture of relief and amusement. We followed Serak into the briefing room, the adrenaline of the escape giving way to a new, grim tension.
Emergency lighting cast harsh shadows across the assembled crew. The ship hummed around us, the air thick with the scent of ozone and Ressh's protective fury.
