Page 4 of Taming Chaos

Seph shuddered as a group of five crimson-skinned Plutharan males came up beside them. Naked from the waist up, the imposing creatures wore elaborate necklaces of polished ivory. One might almost be inclined to think their adornments were made out of bones.

The Plutharans hissed to each other, their milky blue eyes flicking back-and-forth. They moved closer to the guards, looking in on the center of the formation.

“Point your weapons at them and shout something threatening,” Seph whispered, urgency creeping into her voice. “The only thing they respect is aggression.”

“You sure about that, Winters?” Markov looked skeptical until the Plutharans focused their attention on Seph and Agent Davis.

Growls reverberated from deep within their throats. Impossibly, their eyes began to emit a faint bluish glow.

“What the fuck?” Davis sidestepped as a three-fingered hand shot between the marching guards.

He stroked her. The red creature actually stroked the agent with his long, claw-tipped fingers.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Davis’s high-pitched shout drew a few curious stares. Someone swore. A dozen guns pointed toward the Plutharans. The hand disappeared.

Seph didn’t know enough about Plutharan culture to understand exactly what the hell was going on, but it was obvious that the Plutharans were only interested in her and Davis.

Aaand… they just so happened to be the only women in the group.

Funny, that.

A strange sound escaped the aliens; a low, vibrating rumble that sounded like a cross between a purr and a laugh.

The Plutharans were fucking with them.

“Let’s move,” she urged, not wanting to be drawn into a confrontation.

Keep moving. That was their best form of defense. To Seph’s intense relief, the Plutharans didn’t follow.

They left the chortling red-skinned aliens behind as they reached the edge of the mid-level, which ended abruptly. Really, the entire middle level was just a giant platform between the upper and lower decks. At the midpoint, the floor gave way to a massive drop—it was probably around twenty floors high.

Beneath them, large ships idled on a dimly lit floor-space. The lower decks were huge, stretching to the very edge of Seph’s perception. She could just make out the shadowy outline of the airlocks beyond. Small transport craft whirred around like worker insects, their guide-lights flashing red and blue.

The sight was awesome and terrifying.

Based on what little information was available about this place, Seph had learned that the lower decks were where the big boys played. Pirates, raiders, mercenaries, official traders… many of them refused to leave the security of their ships.

It took a lot of clout and credits to earn a berth on the lower docks. The majority of visitors to Zarhab Groht weren’t allowed to enter the facility with their main vessels. Instead, the mere mortals—humans included—had to shuttle back-and-forth from their motherships, entering via the mid-level.

As they reached the elevator slipway, Markov gave her an odd look. It warmed Seph’s bitter heart to see the smugness melt away from his face.

Now he seemed wary. Good. That was a little more appropriate for a place like Zarhab Groht. Unlike her companions, Seph had a very healthy respect for aliens and what they were capable of.

There wasn’t much leeway here. They had to stick to the game-plan and get out of here as quickly as possible.

“So what now, Professor Winters?” Markov’s gun had appeared in his hand. Behind them, several guards at the rear were holding the line against a group of curious Ifkin.

“Stick to the plan. We get onto the elevator. We go down there. We find our sellers, do the deal, and pray we’re going to get out of here alive. Hopefully, the walk back should be a little easier.”

By then, she hoped they would have a small arsenal of Ephrenian plasma guns in their possession. The extra firepower would be a deterrent to anyone thinking of starting a fight.

Humans might be the perpetual underdogs in the Universe, but at least they had the ability to adapt.

As they shuffled onto the elevator—a wide metal platform covered in scratches and surrounded on all sides by a thin mesh cage—Seph steeled herself, trying not to look over the sides as a familiar prickle of fear crawled over her skin. Heights had never been her friend, which was ironic, considering she’d willingly agreed to blast off into space.

A flicker of movement at the corner of her vision caught Seph’s attention.

She turned and looked over her shoulder.

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