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Prologue
QHIX
This won't take long, I say to myself with a grin as I start my landing on the outskirts of the prison compound on Zune.
Just a quick in and out like the last time. Those poor blikers won't even know I was here. They'll emerge after lockdown one medical cuff short. It'll be easier than taking sweets from a young.
The medic bay tech on my Thrushian Star Chaser is among the most advanced in the Universe, but the life-saving equipment is only as good as the medic wielding it, and I am no medic. It's only me on board. and though I've treated minor injuries on myself, if I were to sustain something life-threatening, I'd be bliked.
Star Mavericks are loners by nature, making Ziarian medical cuffs a marvel of science, as they can easily be donned by the patient without the help of others. No formal medic training required. Just clamp it in place over your forearm, calibrate the life-saving device by your weight and species, and the thing will rapidly heal any injury or illness.
I've seen these cuffs bring a male back from the brink of death. My fellow Star Maverick Navik morphed into his sivot when his female's safety was threatened. The fool walked right out into the acid air on Yeet. No protection suit. No respirator. Just opened the cargo bay door and out the idiot went.
Although his beastly form was a sight to behold, tearing apart the Yulineon patroller's craft with his bare hands, what remained of Navik's sivot afterward was nothing short of a mangled mess. His flesh was seared and melted, his lungs ravaged by the corrosive gases. It was amazing he made it back inside the cargo hold, barely clinging to consciousness before collapsing in a steaming heap.
I'm not normally a squeamish male, but I admit, I gagged a little over the condition of his body. Honestly, I didn't have much hope he would survive when I clamped the medical cuff onto his charred forearm, but he'd healed faster than I ever expected.
That medical cuff was now in the hands of Navik's mate, Cora, who is pregnant with their first young and the first Kaul-human hybrid. I couldn't blame her for being nervous, so I gifted her the cuff.
My craft touches down on the lush moon of Zune without so much as a bump. It's the end of the day, or what the Ziarians call a cycle, giving me plenty of time to stroll inside, pinch a cuff from their storage room, and program my navigation system to fly me to the location of my next bold act of thievery on Natari 5.
I drop the ramp, holster my favorite plasma gun, and cross the short distance between my ship and the sole entrance to the prison compound. I pull deeply of the air, finding it as sultry and sweet as the last time I was here.
The scanner adjacent to the entrance reads my palms and the door glides silently open. Cool air filtered through a conditioning system wafts out in greeting, but I turn and pause a moment to admire the beauty of the unspoiled moonscape.
A serene oasis stretches out before me, a tapestry of vibrantly hued forests that seem to stretch on forever. Towering trees soar toward a pale verdant sky, their leaves rustling in the breeze. Off in the distance, the rumble of a majestic waterfall I flew over reverberates through the tranquil air, tempting me to plunge into the expansive lake below its cascading waters.
What a bliking shame the Ziarian government chose such a pristine location for a remote prison. There's no chance of a lengthy reprieve without risking my ship being hijacked by one of the many prisoners once lockdown ends and they are free to roam.
Oh well. There are plenty of other, less hostile locations where a busy Kaul can unwind. No need to tempt fate.
I enter through the common area choked with tables and chairs, making my way past the wings of Annex 1 and 2 jutting off either side to the soft buzz of the luminetric barriers covering every cellpod in a wavy expanse of solidified light.
The barriers effectively block out all noise and sight, allowing me to move unnoticed past the unfortunate individuals abandoned by their corrupt government two decades ago.
At the end of the hall that was the guards' quarters, lies the storage room. I enter, expecting to find the medical cuff right away, so I can be on my way. Instead, I'm faced with a whole lot of empty shelves.
"This cannot be right," I mumble to myself, moving inside to rifle through cabinets only to find them filled with prepackaged rations.
I palm one of the pouches. Alope stew. A favorite of the Ziarians. No thanks! I can't stomach the swill and toss it back inside, a surge of annoyance prickling across my skin.
Years have past since I was last here. In that time, the stupid prisoners must have decided to hoard everything of value. There's not a single medical cuff in sight.
Frustration simmers within me as I search the remaining shelves. Tools, spare parts, and random trinkets fill the room, but no sign of what I went out of my way to retrieve.
My primal instincts ignite, alerting me that I am being watched.
I spin around on my heel, drawing my plasma gun and taking aim, only to dodge an arcing electric pulse. The enormous Ziarian wielding the stunner fires again before I can get off a shot, hitting me square in the chest.
I take the full brunt of the blast, losing my grip on the plasma gun. My weapon clatters to the floor as every muscle in my body seizes in uncontrollable spasms. My jaw clenches as I collapse, falling face-first like a felled tree, defeated and helpless.
As darkness creeps in around the edges of my vision, I curse my overconfidence. I should have been more cautious and scouted the area before I landed. Made sure no prisoners were roaming about.
Chapter
One
QHIX
