“Trusted for nine years?”
“You know the dangers you face with the Mokarran. What’s on this rock you’ve never experienced before, Commander,” Ki-Ton assures them.
“Just about every day is something I’ve never experienced before. We’ve got to find out why Admiral Maxtin activated the bounty.”
Ki-Ton whispers to Reynard, “I want to locate Maxtin, too; I would leave the princess on the Dragon, if you plan to proceed with this route. The alert is an actual bounty. Others may seek it.”
Reynard nods, “If this is no place for us, it’s no place for Her Majesty.” He pats Doug on the shoulder. “Landing instructions?”
“Some automated system keeps repeating to park outside the main structure. It doesn’t seem to care where you land.”
“For sure.” Amye points at the main view screen. “You might want to change your mind about this extraction.”
The Dragon approaches an orbit of the planetoid. More and more ships appear outside the central structure of the mining base.
“That’s a Tibbar shuttle.”
“They would not be here for the same bounty we seek.”
“The Tibbar don’t gamble. They have to be here pursuing some bounty.” Ki-Ton adds, “We may not want to run into them, Commander.”
“We don’t leave without finding out Maxtin’s intent, especially since he won’t answer his comm. We’re just going to have to be on guard for Tibbar.”
“And everyone else in this place.”
••••••
SCOTT TOUCHES HIS watch. The built-in comm chirps, “Athena, lower the cargo ramp.”
The grated section of floor in the Dragon’s cargo hold lowers. A hazy azure force field ignites, preventing the atmosphere contained within the ship from escaping.
“There’s a slight tingle when you step through the magnetic shield, but it’s harmless. The major adjustment will be to the lighter gravity of the asteroid’s surface.” Scott holds out six tubes with mouth pieces in the center. “It’s thin breathing out there.”
Reynard takes one of the tubes and marches down the ramp followed by Amye, Doug, and JC.
Scott offers one to Joe.
“I need no such device.”
Ki-Ton also refuses the breather.
“Suit yourselves.” Scott bites down on one.
The remodeled central structure of the mining base functions as a grand entrance. A blue haze permeates the structure, keeping a much more appealing atmosphere inside.
“I doubt Osirians are welcome here,” Ki-Ton speaks without any labored breath.
Scott sucks in air before removing the mouthpiece, “We’re not too popular wherever we go.” He knows Ki-Ton isn’t Osirian. Not many humanoid species get by on such thin oxygen intake. Joe’s mastery of his own physical form allows him to slow his breath. Scott’s sure the master warrior has taken one breath since they left the Dragon.
A cylindrical entrance chamber large enough for two cargo shuttles to land and be filled spins around after all the group has stepped onto it. Airtight doors seal behind them. Reynard’s hand grips his magnum before he even realizes it is there. Amye slides her hand over his in a tender motion preventing him from drawing the weapon. He releases his grip once he knows she’s the one stopping him. He will defer to her judgment at the moment.
The airtight doors crack open with a hiss.
Reynard removes the breathing apparatus from his mouth and clips it to his gun belt. “Let’s just grab this guy and get back to the Dragon before others attempt to collect any bounty.”
The inner chamber just inside the giant revolving airlock has the sterile feel of a mortuary. Half a dozen aliens in knightly body armor sporting heavy rifles guard the room.
“Step forward.” An Aurulent waves to them. “Place your energy-based weapons on the table. No blasters allowed inside.”
Scott draws his weapon from his left side holster with his right hand and places it on the table. The auric-skinned women, scantily clad in robes that match their flaxen tone, dance around him thrashing their arms so the cybernetic electronics molded to their flesh scan him.
“Living metal detectors?”
“Aurulents love electronic implants.” Amye asks, “Did you get those done here?”
One of the girls nods her head.
Amye lays her blaster on the table handle first, having flipped it from its holster so quick no one could see it turn in her hand. “I better get that back.”
The Aurulent scans the weapon with a computerized device on her forearm. She hands Amye a claim ticket. “Don’t gamble it away.” She places the blaster on the shelf of a barred window where a golden alien hand snatches it inside.
“All weapons will be returned upon exit only with proper property tickets.”
“Does this place offer body mods?” Amye asks.
“Anything that your species thresholds tolerate.” The Aurulent whirls around Amye. “Faster reflexes, finger blades, and ocular translucent are popular among Osirians,” she adds, “and safest.”
A hearty beeping occurs.
The women freeze, waiting for Amye to respond to the beep. She pulls a small rectangular cube from her jacket pocket. One of the Aurulent snatches it from Amye’s hand, flipping open the device to reveal a tiny blaster.
“Forgot about that one.” Her smile fails to be innocent.
The Aurulent finish their examination, caring little for the knife protruding from Amye’s boot.
“You wear the distracting garments of a telepath.” The Aurulent scoffs at JC, “Telepaths aren’t welcome here.”
“I’m wearing the gloves,” JC protests.
“Guests will object to your presence. We exist outside regulated legal systems. Many feel you won’t respect the limitations your order places on your gifts.”
Reynard steps between JC and the Aurulent. “What do you mean, she can’t be a guest here?”
“Unauthorized telepathic scans mean death here.”
JC touches his bicep. The silken glove prevents skin contact. “It’s okay, Commander. I’ll return to the Dragon. When you hired me, you knew not everyone approves of telepaths.”
“We could offer you an inhibitor.”
Before Reynard objects, JC speaks, “I accept.”
The Aurulent places a golden tiara on JC’s forehead with a white opal in the center of her forehead. “This marks you as a telepath so those bothered by you may avoid you. It also
