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“For fuck’s sake.” I swear under my breath as the machine jams yet again.

Making all the outfits for the dance which never was to celebrate Kerra getting mated to Darax, the big dangerous Sarkarnii that he is, has proved too much for the garment maker.

Now it’s jammed solid, just when I was creating some more underwear for us all.

I mean, how can a girl cope in space if she doesn’t have any knickers?

I’ve already been abducted without any, and stuck in space with not a scrap of underwear in sight. No way is it happening again, for me or for my friends. Knickers for the win, even if we are all alien abductees about to be paraded around a cohort of huge alien males for, as far as I can tell, their delectation.

Certainly not ours. Or rather mine, Rosalie and Lydia’s. I’m pretty sure Maggie would look at Sarkarnii butts all day. Which she does. She even has a chart.

I mean, I’m not complaining about the eye-candy. The Sarkarnii are hot. There isn’t a single one we’ve seen so far who doesn’t have endless abs, pretty scales and a face which would make a cover model weep.

Still, once you’ve seen one bare Sarkarnii behind…chances are there’s another waiting to moon you just around the corner.

I stomp to the door of our quarters. As usual, there’s a bored looking dragon man guard waiting outside.

“I need to do a diagnostic on the garment maker. It keeps jamming.” I say to him.

He gives me a blank look. For a species who change into dragons, clothing is optional and I suspect he doesn’t much care for the pants he’s wearing.

“I need a…” I mime the small rectangular tablets I’ve seen some of the Sarkarnii using. “Something which will allow me to connect to the machine and work out what’s wrong.”

All my years as a research chemist, all the degrees and it’s come to this. I’m working out why the knicker maker isn’t functioning.

The guard stares at me for a while, shrugs then walks off. I follow. Most of the warriors give us a wide berth anyway, so the fact he just expects me to trail after him isn’t a surprise. The things I do for underwear…

The warrior leads me through various sections of Darax sector, into an area I’ve not used before. He waves his arm vaguely up a passage before he wanders off, presumably looking for food, or a fight or both.

We’re all becoming used to life with the Sarkarnii. Except possibly Lydia.

I heave out a sigh, because I’m so hard done by, and go in the direction he suggests. There are a number of doors, but none of them open for me. Most likely only keyed to Sarkarnii DNA. I swear under my breath. This is starting to get annoying.

Ahead there is a sturdier door than the ones on either side. It looks like some sort of vault. I suppose the Sarkarnii might be keeping their tech somewhere secure although given their lax approach to most other things, this would be new.

But if I’ve learnt anything, it’s not to underestimate the Sarkarnii.

As I approach the heavy door, it hisses and opens. Of all the places which would allow me entry, I wasn’t expecting this one.

It’s quiet and dark as I move through the door and find myself, not in some sort of room filled with tech, but instead I’m in something which can only be described as an aircraft hangar on steroids.

“Nope.” I say to myself, retracing my steps only to look on as the door closes.

There’s no handle on this side.

“Fuck it.” I growl to myself. I stare around at my new surroundings.

This place is…interesting. And somewhere new sure beats being cooped up in Darax’s sector or being abducted by cockroach aliens.

I shudder far to easily at the thought of the Veseli. If I never see them again, save for my nightmares, it will be too soon.

There’s a series of low rumbles which reverberate down the strange, maze like passages open to the hangar above. I can only just make out the high ceiling, criss crossed with multiple beams.

This has to be the neutral sector I heard Kerra talking about. A frisson of excitement flows through me. I’m not supposed to be here. It’s supposed to be lawless…

At the moment, it looks a bit grubby, unlike the opulence I’ve been used to with Darax. He makes plenty of money, something the Sarkarnii call ‘credits’ and he is happy to flaunt it.

I guess no one really looks after the neutral sector.

I contemplate my next move. I’m not getting back to where I was any time soon, so I might as well explore for a bit until I come across a Sarkarnii who will help me return. It seems like a long time since I exercised my legs and, growing up on a hill farm means I was used to walking.

Putting my best foot forward, I follow the maze for around ten minutes. Why the hell would the Sarkarnii need a maze like this? Is it to remind them of something?

Ahead I hear voices. It’s difficult to make out what they’re saying but as I approach, the entire place goes dark.

“Dammit.” I growl to myself, clutching at the nearest wall.

“Can you scent it?” A vicious, dark and dangerous voice rasps out, almost directly behind me. “I think we might have found our prize after all.”

Before I can do anything, make a move, do a runner, strong pincer like hands grab my arms and, even though I manage to let out a scream, it’s cut off by a rag being pushed into my mouth.

“This one is ours.” The voice growls. “This one will do exactly what we need her to do.”

A spark flares briefly and as I twist in my captor’s arms, I catch sight of a long scar running over one eye.

It’s Dexx. The one warlord no one wants to meet. Especially like this.