Page 12 of Shielded in the Shadows

I made it through unconscious bar patrons to the Atolanis. Their personal disruptor shields prevented me from killing them with my plasma gun, so I used my dagger to do the job. I wiped their black blood off on their clothing and then checked to make sure the Halutan was no longer a threat. He looked dead, but with all those enhancements, I couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t heal, even from a head wound. So I used my plasma lash to take his head clean off.

As blood and sparks sprayed from his severed neck, the back of my neck prickled. I spun, lash and gun at the ready, but the bar was still. Everyone but me appeared unconscious.

It wouldn’t stay that way for long, though. Security would be coming through the doors at any moment. And who knew how many more mercs might be waiting in the promenade for their chance at me. I had to assume if the Halutan and Atolanis knew who I was, others did too—though how they knew was still a mystery, as was the identity of who’d put the bounty on my head. I’d asked my usual sources of information, but no one had an answer.

Without warning, the door at the back of the bar that led to employee areas slid open. I dove for cover behind an overturned table, expecting security officers to flood the bar. Instead, there was only silence.

Cautiously, I peered around the table. The corridor beyond was entirely empty. No bar employees, no security officers. No mercs lying in wait. What the hells?

The command panel next to the door was blinking erratically and emitting tiny sparks. My eyes narrowed. A malfunction? At this precise moment? Definitely not a coincidence.

An alarm sounded at the bar’s main doors, followed by a heavy thunk-thunk of the locks disengaging. I was about to have company. Time to go.

Maybe someone had opened that rear door on purpose, and maybe not. But an exit was an exit, and it was probably no worse than any other way out of here. I’d have to sneak and fight my way back to my ship regardless.

As I dashed to the open doorway, I spoke quickly and quietly into my wristcomm, initiating a series of emergency contingencies similar to those I’d used to depart Daventi Station to prepare for a speedy exit from where I’d docked on Deck 14. Siber acknowledged my commands with a series of buzzes and confirmed no one had approached my ship in my absence.

According to the station schematics and guidance displayed on my wristcomm, the employee entrance led to a maze of corridors behind the promenade’s shops and restaurants that in turn connected to maintenance hallways and tubes. I had to get from this level of the promenade down to Deck 14. That was ten decks.

As I started down the empty corridor, the door to the bar beeped and ground closed with a high-pitched whine that made my teeth hurt. The panel beside the door sparked, popped, and emitted a plume of smoke before going dead. That door probably wouldn’t be opening again anytime soon without plasma cutters.

The only way forward was to go deeper into the tunnels and back rooms behind this promenade level. Someone had seen to that. All the little hairs on my body stood on end.

Every instinct was telling me this dim corridor might look empty, but I wasn’t alone. Cloaking shields? Hidden surveillance? Natural camouflage? Or some kind of new tech I wasn’t familiar with?

Best to let them think I wasn’t aware of being watched, at least for now. I’d deal with whatever or whoever was on my tail at my first opportunity. They were bound to show themselves sooner or later. Hopefully sooner.

As the Atolanis and the Halutan could attest, you came after a survivor of the Ganai arenas at your own peril.

Dagger and plasma gun at the ready, I headed for my ship.

CHAPTER 4

JARRIX

A burst of plasma fire and a sudden cacophony of shouts and screaming rang out just as our team approached the Final Chance bar’s main entrance via the promenade.

“Fuck,” Boorginamai rumbled. Like all Merdians, his voice sounded like boulders grinding against each other. “We are late to the party, brothers.”

“It is Jonor’s fault,” Kitna hissed, raking his claws through his spiky hair. His forked tongue lashed out to taste the air. “Had he not argued about trading assignments with L’mel, we would have arrived sooner. Sjer will kill Jonor for certain now.”

Not if I get him cornered first, I thought.

Pushing and shoving each other to escape danger, patrons poured out of Final Chance. One look at Boorginamai’s bulk and Kitna’s many-fanged glower and even the most panicked escapees gave us a wide berth.

More weapons fire from inside the bar made us all growl and hiss. “They will kill the bounty,” L’mel grunted. The ship’s navigator preferred a modified J’Noran crossbow, which he carried on his back. “We will lose our chance at a great favor if she dies.” He turned to me. “You must not let her die.”

“I’m aware,” I snapped.

L’mel scowled, but I ignored him. Jonor’s behavior plus my reluctance to participate in this mission had put me in a foul mood—one I didn’t bother to hide. In fact, the closer we got to our quarry, the more my entire body seemed to rebel at the idea of letting Boorginamai get near her with the manacles he carried on his belt, while simultaneously driving me to find Keela. Find her, and keep her safe.

Nothing about how I felt made sense, and that irritated me too.

Without warning, the bar’s two entrances began to close. The locked doors would trap our bounty inside with the mercs who’d already opened fire on her.

Boorginamai, L’mel, and Kitna cursed and started to run, but none of them would get there fast enough.

I leapt into the air and flew toward the Final Chance’s main entrance. At full speed, I careened through the rapidly closing gap, hit the deck, and immediately rolled behind the deserted bar to take cover. I glimpsed Kitna’s furious face just before the doors shut and locked. A flurry of dull thuds were probably his fists pounding futilely against the thick, blast-proof door.