Page 7 of Fated for the Alien Fighter

Big mistake.

“It’s just–”

Before he finished, Taryn slid the transparent disk onto the guard’s neck, which embedded itself into his skin, knocking him out instantly. Taryn grabbed him and his spear before they clunked to the stone floor and positioned them against the wall as comfortably as possible.

Just as he righted himself, a door opened behind him.

Nines damn it, he was in a rush.

Another guard walked out. Older. Meaner. He held his weapon like he knew how to use it and had taken a few lives with it.

Taryn had a savvier target now. He needed a different strategy.

“By the Nines, is this what you call security around here?” Taryn asked, squaring his shoulders as he glared at the new guard. “Sleeping with an entire intergalactic envoy on the premises?”

The guard faltered enough for Taryn to wound his medallion chain around his fingers. In the next breath, he wrapped the chain around the guard’s neck, swinging behind him and pulling tightly.

Not tight enough to hurt or bruise, but enough for the guard’s eyes to flicker in fear. He thrashed against Taryn with all his might, but inevitably went limp in his arms.

Taryn clenched his jaw as he positioned the guard next to his colleague.

He disliked resorting to violence. It was the easy way out. It was also the way his family had dealt with problems for too long.

But he didn’t have time to sift through uncomfortable memories right now. He had a mission.

He hurried down the endless row of rooms, checking the dynamic holo-map which had been embedded into his right forearm a honnen ago and which only he could see. It showed the Xanashi patrols closing in on the reception hall. Droves of them.

Taryn was used to getting things done quickly. Now he really had to hurry.

He stopped in front of the plainest door and took out the key–a black square with small indentations he couldn’t understand. But he knew how to use it.

He crouched and inserted the black square underneath the door, sliding it against the metal frame.

He counted to one. Two. Three–

The door shuddered once before it began to unravel to the side, like the mighty Xanashi desert wind was blowing it away.

Beyond it was a dark, shadowy room filled with white monoliths as far as Taryn’s eyes could see.

Taryn licked his fangs. The rumors were true, then. These polished, clean lines weren’t Xanashi craftsmanship.

These perfect, threatening columns had been designed by Zavorians, long-lost relatives of the Quillons and bitter enemies to most planets in the universe.

The Xanashis could pretend these monoliths were used to better their communication infrastructure, but the Zavorians never gave something without expecting a big reward in return.

If Taryn had to guess, these columns had some hidden features to funnel every scrap of data off Xanashi to the Zavorians’ mega-ship. It was their overlording way, after all.

Outside, the alarm blared louder.

From a concealed pocket in his tunic, Taryn took out a small white rectangle, thin as a strand of hair. He placed it on the side of one of the columns.

As soon as the film made contact, it burned straight through Taryn’s skin. He gritted his teeth against the pain. He knew this was going to happen.

Zavorian technology always demanded a sacrifice. This time it was a blue welt scorched into Taryn’s palm.

The map on his forearm turned red. The soldiers were approaching.

He gripped the key and sprinted out of the room, the door stitching itself back together behind him. He didn’t stop until he reached the guards, who were still leaning in a heap against the wall.

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