Page 2 of Taming Chaos

Silence.

In the background, Torin heard a soft wheezing sound, as if someone were being choked to death.

“No,” Enki said at last, sounding a little preoccupied. “I will search the upper level.”

“And I’ll go down.”

Click. The comm went dead.

That was Enki. He and Torin got along pretty well, all things considered.

“You look like you could use some loving, big boy.” A Veronian female waved her tail at him, her golden eyes narrowing suggestively. She pulled aside a silken red curtain and gestured inside her stall. A faint pink glow came from within. “I have all kinds of solo-use pleasure devices. You’re welcome to try…”

Torin quickened his pace, leaving the crate-sellers and their strange wares behind. He passed into a small docking area where various alien shuttlecraft were parked far too close to one another. At one end, a noisy worker-bot was pushing rubbish into an ejection-chute.

He froze.

“The meeting point’s down at the large-vessel docks. Let’s go. The Ephrenians aren’t going to wait if we miss this window.”

The softly spoken words cut through the worker bot’s irritating drone like an ice-pick. Torin recognized the language—English.

An Earth language. He’d taught himself basic English on the long trip back from Kythia to Earth, so he understood the words well enough.

The speaker was definitely human, and definitely female.

What in Kaiin’s Hells were humans doing on Zarhab Groht? They would be eaten alive if they weren’t careful.

That bothered him a little.

Part of him felt drawn to humans. After spending time on Earth, he’d become quite fond of the contrary, soft-skinned beings. Somehow, they knew how to live in a way that was completely flawed and utterly glorious.

The human approach to life was so un-Kordolian, and Torin liked that.

He couldn’t deny that they fascinated him. He even envied them a little, and deep down, he longed to find that most elusive of prizes—a mate.

He slowed his pace as a group of armed humans emerged from between two battered, blunt-nosed shuttlecraft.

Torin counted them. Twenty-four males, wearing identical combat armor and protective helms. Each of the guards carried identical short-barreled bolt-guns.

A small army. Were they enforcers? Paid mercenaries? Official soldiers?

They strode right past Torin, paying him little attention. He didn’t blame them. Why would they be bothered about him when he appeared to be nothing more than a common merc?

Anonymity could be a wonderful thing.

Twenty-four males, and…

For a heartbeat, they parted ranks, revealing their closely protected secret.

A female.

The one who had spoken earlier.

She wore a long black cloak with a hood that concealed her hair and eyes. It draped over her body, swishing back-and-forth as she walked, offering Torin barely a hint of the form that lay beneath.

Sensible flat-soled boots hugged her calves, extending up beneath the folds of her cloak. The only part of her that was actually visible was her lower face. Torin caught a glimpse of pink lips and pale skin decorated with small brown spots.

Just as he’d thought. This one was human, female, and totally out of her element on this cursed death-trap of a trading station.

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