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D arax is correct—there is plenty I do not understand about the Sarkarnii, from their anatomy to their rules, to the way they’ve carved up this planet and this galaxy.

He clearly doesn’t want me to be scared as the airlock opens with a whine. He seems bigger than ever as he strides through, looking over his shoulder at me, his tail swinging from side to side. As I step through, he holds out his hand, which I take.

Only to find a cuff wrapped around it, to which a long chain is attached.

“What the fuck, Darax?” I fire at him.

He pulls me against his hard body.

“You belong to me, little mate. No one will take you this way.”

“Yeah, I’ll just lose a limb,” I respond, but my words are drowned out by the sound of a Sarkarnii roaring overhead.

The zone is vast. It has a ceiling, or at least some sort of roof, which I can make out high above through the smoke.

However, I have to look directly above me.

Everywhere else is a myriad of walls, some scorched, some part melted.

I cringe slightly, hating myself for it, as there is a crack and a boom of one of those explosions the Sarkarnii seem so keen on going off.

“This way,” Darax says. I note he does not hold my chain. It is simply linked around his waist.

I would have preferred we talked about this first, but Darax clearly isn’t one for talking. I am supposed to be his prisoner but even that seems to be a stretch for this chain and cuff treatment.

I know nothing about the Sarkarnii, but I willingly gave Darax my body.

Just goes to show how stupid one can be, whether it’s on Earth or in an entirely different galaxy. Although, if it’s for show, and he didn’t think to tell me, I’m already plotting my revenge. Exactly how you get revenge on a dragon warlord has yet to be determined.

Darax not only doesn’t hold the chain, but he puts an arm around me, along with a wing for good measure, as we make our way through an increasingly more chaotic space until we reach a domed structure.

“This is the clan hall,” Darax says. “The supposed neutral part of this sector.”

The way he grits his teeth suggests to me he has his doubts. Above us, more Sarkarnii dragons fly overhead, releasing fireballs. Darax’s two warriors are clearly keen to join them, tails and wings appearing in swift order.

Darax snarls at them as a massive dragon thumps down a short distance away, flaming into the air as if it has to release the fire or be damned. I do my level best not to flinch. The huge creature swirls until it resolves into a man-like shape.

“Driok.” A muscle jumps in Darax’s jaw, apparently his one tell which shows his real emotions.

“Darax.” The great dragon man nods at him, his blue scales glittering in the light.

He gives a brief glance at me, and at the two warriors, before stalking inside ahead of us. Darax growls under his breath. He doesn’t like this situation. I can feel it in my bones.

We follow Driok inside. The place is warm, hot even, and dark. Despite my annoyance at the chain, I press closer to Darax. He has removed the chain from his waist and looped it around his hand instead.

“If I drop this,” he says quietly, “do not run. You will die.”

Oh, great. All my time stuck in a rusting space bucket, the possibility of being blown to smithereens and ending up in a pulsar trap, and this is how I die, in a meeting? How very corporate.

At the end of the dimly lit corridor, a door slides open. Darax orders his warriors to wait as we enter.

It’s a room which is somewhat familiar. It reminds me of Darax’s quarters.

The depression in the center isn’t exactly a bed as such, but it contains a further circle of cushions, and in the middle is a small pit filled with flame.

On the opposite side to us is a selection of raised shelves which are covered in platters of food.

One huge Sarkarnii is stood with his back to us, shoveling various items into his mouth.

Driok leans against the wall, arms folded over his impressive chest.

“Dante,” Darax snarls. “You nearly killed me.”

Before I can even blink, Darax has dropped the chain and fired himself across the room at the Sarkarnii.

Dante turns, unconcerned, putting another chunk of meat into his mouth.

He dodges to the left as Darax lands before unsheathing a set of claws which wouldn’t be out of place on any dinosaur. His red scales seemingly glow brighter.

“You nearly killed my…” Darax holds back, glaring at Dante. “Captive,” he snarls.

Dante easily returns the snarl with a blood curdling one of his own. Darax strikes out, cuffing Dante on the side of his head with what doesn’t seem like much force.

It’s enough to cause the great creature to barrel straight at Darax, body slamming him and causing the pair to tumble into the pit area. Tails, wings, and teeth swirl as the large room is filled with the sounds of the fight.

“These things nearly always result in a draw,” Driok rumbles in my ear, suddenly next to me, making me jump at his stealthy approach. He inhales over me, eyes not leaving the growling, snarling mess below us. “Interesting,” he adds as the door snaps open and the biggest Sarkarnii yet strides in.

“Enough,” he says. His voice, whilst not raised, resonates around the room.

Dante and Darax unlock from their fight. Darax punches Dante in the head, and in a single, swift move, he’s out of the pit and by my side. Dante lies in the bottom of the depression laughing.

“Whoever is giving this Sarkarnii whatever it is he’s on is to stop it immediately,” the big Sarkarnii growls. “Or deal with me.”

Driok shrugs. “Narcotics are not my speciality, Dalox.” He nods at Darax. “Ask him.”

“I do supplies, not narcotics, and there’s no way I’d make that nevver any worse than he already is,” Darax growls with a vicious glance at Dante, who remains sprawled out on the cushions, scratching at his crotch with those same huge claws.

“Speak to Dexx if you want to stop the flow of narcotics to Vorostor Central.”

“I would if he’d show his nevving face,” Dalox growls. “But before I deal with him, and”—he glares at Dante, who simply gives him an unhinged grin back—“him, I need to deal with you.”