Page 40 of Galactic Sentinels, Vol. 1 (Chronicles of Pherebos #1)

Ileana.

I’m shaking like a leaf.

I was already on edge after seeing that sea monster rise behind Pherebos just as he reached the flat islet. That’s why I rushed to pull him out of the water.

Then, moments later, we were in the crosshairs of the terrifying Noviosk—ready to obliterate us if we dared to reach the SIL.

And then… I watched that same Srebat get swallowed whole, along with his vehicle, by the creature.

As the SIL’s access hatch slowly closes, I can’t stop trembling.

I was so scared.

“SILMAR, follow all of Ileana’s instructions,” Pherebos tells the ship’s AI, his voice unsteady.

Wait—what? No!

I watch in horror as my beautiful Asgarnian collapses onto the cabin floor.

“Pherebos!” I cry, rushing to his side.

It’s no surprise—he picked up more of those yellow leeches during the crossing. He’s unconscious. His pulse is erratic, and his chest and shoulders are a mess. He’s wheezing too—probably reacting to whatever toxins those things secrete.

I strip off his clothes and grab the magic pen, the one that kills the parasites. One by one, I burn them off. The stench fills the cabin as they drop to the floor, twitching.

Wingo, who’s just arrived and spots the pile of yellow creatures, raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, nice,” he says casually. “You brought me snacks?”

“I wouldn’t recommend them, though,” I mutter, still shaken. “They’re pretty tough to digest. They’re the reason Pherebos got hurt!”

“ Yuck! I’m not that hungry after all,” Wingo sighs, sounding almost apologetic.

“You got that right. Wingo, can you help me move him? He’s unconscious, as you can see.”

“ Ileana, I think he can wait a few more minutes. The priority is to talk to Akifumi. Pherebos told me the traitor was on Vagantu.”

I hesitate. My instinct is to take care of Pherebos—my beautiful, unconscious Asgarnian. But Wingo’s right. Her mission, and maybe the fate of others like me, could depend on this.

I nod, reluctantly. I don’t want to, but I know I have to.

“SILMAR, can you call Akifumi for me?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

“Outgoing call in progress,” the AI responds.

A few seconds later, a voice answers.

“Akifumi.”

“Hey, I’m Ileana. I’m on board the SIL. ”

“I see. Where’s the owner?” he asks, his tone cautious.

“Pherebos is wounded,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ll take care of him, but first I need to tell you—the traitor the Confederation’s been hunting, the one who calls himselfThe Unshakeable, was on Vagantu yesterday.”

“How can I be sure you are who you say you are? And that Pherebos is alive?”

“Gnuffgnuff!”Wingo says, sending me a mental nudge. “Tell him his coffee is the best on the dial!”

I shoot him a skeptical look but repeat the strange coded message anyway.

“Uh… Wingo says you make good coffee. Is that, like, a thing between you? Some kind of magic phrase?”

“Let’s just say it’s a thing between you and the coffee. How badly is Pherebos hurt?”

I glance back. Pherebos is still lying motionless on the floor.

“We were attacked by scavenger organisms in the water. I think he needs a regeneration chamber as soon as possible. I’m afraid the bugs’ gastric juices are still doing damage.”

“If you think it can’t wait until you return to MyFaS, I’ll send you coordinates. We’ve got theRenaissance—a medical ship for patients—and another vessel for prisoner transport.”

“All right. I don’t think waiting to return to MyFaS is an option. I’ll head to the medical ship. But… Akifumi…”

“Yes, young lady? ”

“I’ve had… issues with the governor of Jaga-18. Is it… safe?”

“Ileana, you’re not at risk. You can go to the medical ship, I promise.”

Anyway, even if it weren’t safe, I’d still go. Pherebos needs urgent care. And if I have to fall back into Henri’s clutches to save his life… so be it.

“Ileana, we’ve had a wide net in place since the morning of the auction.

We’ve intercepted a large number of people trying to leave Vagantu.

I imagine you didn’t see many of them, but could you help identify the victims and those working for the Coalition?

As you can guess, everyone’s claiming innocence and blaming coincidence for their presence at the market. ”

“I’ll do it. But don’t waste time looking for Noviosk, the head of Vagantu. He was swallowed whole by a creature—right in front of us! It devoured him, vehicle and all!”

“Well, that’s unfortunate. He should’ve answered for his crimes. Then again… not a huge loss,” my contact mutters. “I’m needed elsewhere—I’m ending this call. We’ll meet in two days on the medical ship.”

I take a moment to glance at the front panel, now fully transparent. Vagantu, a dark green sphere, is teeming with activity. Ships are coming and going. How are we supposed to know who’s who? It’s overwhelming. But right now, I have more urgent things to deal with.

“SILMAR, set course for the nearest regeneration chamber!” I say .

“I’ve entered the coordinates sent by Akifumi. We’ve also received clearance to exit the zone. For high-speed space travel, I’m opacifying the entire ship.”

I don’t even answer. I’m already at Pherebos’s side—his skin is gray.

I check his vitals. It’s… really bad.

“Is it serious?” Wingo asks. “He’s not waking up!”

“When the body suffers major trauma, it’s not uncommon for energy to be redirected to the most vital systems.”

“But you weren’t hurt?”

“Just a little. My hand and forearm. I spent way less time in the water than Pherebos. And maybe I had more niank oil on me? I don’t know. SILMAR, how long until we reach the rendezvous point?”

“We will arrive in forty-three minutes,” the AI replies.

Less than an hour later, after following SILMAR’s instructions to the letter, the SIL docks with theRenaissance, the Confederation’s medical ship.

The airlock door has barely opened when several people rush into our vessel, carrying a stretcher.

“Are you Ileana?” asks a blonde woman—clearly human.

“Yes, that’s me. Quick, we need to get Pherebos into a regeneration chamber!” I say, rattling off a list of medical observations and vitals I’ve been tracking for my beautiful Asgarnian .

Wingo and I follow them into a spacious room equipped with a dozen regeneration pods—three of them already in use.

I watch anxiously as these strangers undress Pherebos completely and slide him into one of the pods. I let out a deep sigh of relief when the lid finally seals shut.

I slide down the wall and sit on the floor. I know it’ll be hours before he’s fully healed.

“Is it going to take long?” Wingo asks, echoing my own thoughts.

“No idea exactly. But yeah… several hours at least, I’d say.”

“ Then let’s wait. And rest,” he concludes, curling up at my feet.

A few minutes pass before the blonde woman returns and stands in front of us.

“Ileana? I’m Bianca. I’m here to check if you’re injured and need treatment.”

“That’s kind of you, but my wounds are manageable. No need to waste a pod on me.”

“Let me see,” she insists.

Reluctantly, I roll up my sleeve and show her the four-centimeter-long, one-centimeter-wide necrotic trail carved into the front of my forearm. Then I show her the inside of my hand.

“I see. Come with me. We have newer tools—smaller than the pods. They’re only good for surface wounds, which is your case.”

“That’s kind of you, but I’d rather stay with Pherebos and Wingo. ”

“You should let her treat you. I’ll stay with him—don’t worry.”

I hesitate, then meet Wingo’s golden gaze. There’s something reassuring in it, something that tells me it’s okay to take a moment for myself.

I finally nod, and both of them seem relieved. Pain shoots through my arm as I press it against the wall to help myself up. Yeah… maybe getting treatedisa good idea after all.

I cast one last glance at Wingo, then turn to follow Bianca, the kind blonde.

We don’t go far before entering a smaller treatment room.

On a large table, several strange objects are laid out—some look like oversized gloves, others like very tall socks…

“Put on this long glove up to your elbow,” Bianca says. “Then I’ll numb your arm—the reconstruction process can be painful. It should be quick, though… your injuries are superficial.” She pulls out an injector pen and gives me a dose.

My arm quickly goes numb, and a small light on the back of the glove turns on, indicating that the regeneration process has started. There’s nothing I can do now but wait.

“Can I wait next to Pherebos?” I ask.

“I’m afraid not. We don’t have many of these advanced tools, and we prefer to keep them in this room. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll leave you here—other patients need my attention. ”

“I understand. I’ll wait here,” I say, settling into a soft chair.

I must have dozed off, because I’m startled awake by a voice.

“Ileana? That’s you?” asks a young man with Asian features.

“Yes?”

“Bianca told me you were here. I’m Onorio. Akifumi said you might be able to help us sort through the people we intercepted,” he explains, speaking at lightning speed.

I glance at my arm—the indicator light is still red.

“I’d be happy to help, but Bianca insisted I stay here until the regeneration is complete. Are you Human?”

“No, I’m Polarien. I’ll wait until you’re mobile, then. In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?” he says with a big smile.

“Of course—if it helps.”

“How many people do you think you saw or crossed paths with on Vagantu?”

“Oh… maybe forty? It’s hard to say.”

“I’ll take you to my workstation and show you photos of everyone we intercepted. You’ll just need to identify anyone you recognize—Coalition members or victims. Ah, the light just turned green! We’re good to go!”

This guy is full of energy and good humor—it’s kind of contagious .

He helps me remove the glove, and I’m relieved to see that there’s no trace left of the damage caused by those necrophagous slugs.

“See? Good as new!” Onorio exclaims cheerfully. “Come on, follow me!”

“Can we stop by to see my friend first? He’s in a pod…”

“Your Asgarnian friend? No need—he’ll be in there a while. You’ll see him afterward, don’t worry!” the Polarien promises, already leading me energetically toward his station.

We pass by a spacious cafeteria, one entire wall opening onto the vastness of space. Outside, ships of all shapes and sizes move in a graceful, chaotic dance. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many vessels in one place.

“Want a coffee or tea before we get to work?” my cheerful guide offers.

Immediately, I think of the plant that grew on MyFaS—the one that accompanied our quiet evenings…

“Would you happen to have biloa infusion?” I ask hesitantly.

A wide smile lights up Onorio’s face.

“We do! Which terraformed world are you from, if you don’t mind me asking? Only folks from the Jagas ever ask for that!” he adds with a knowing wink.

I can’t tell him MyFaS. Pherebos made it clear—only Akifumi knows they were ever there.

“Jaga-18,” I say softly.

Onorio is already handing me the drink and selecting one for himself from the dispenser .

“There we go. Now that we’re all set—let’s get to work!” he says brightly.

A few moments later, we enter a small room. Just a simple console, a digital wall, and two chairs.

“Let’s sit,” he says, taking the second seat.

“I’ve already filtered out the people we found injured and locked in cages.

They’re clearly victims. We’re treating them and will either resettle them on a terraformed world or return them to their home planets, if they prefer.

It’s a long, careful process. I’d rather take my time than accidentally release someone responsible for enslaving hundreds. ”

He’s absolutely right. I sit down and watch how he works.

For each face, he takes notes—species, estimated age, cross-checks with the interception team’s data, and the person’s own statements.

“I recognize her!” I say suddenly. “She was in the cage next to mine.”

“Perfect. She was on a ship leaving Vagantu. Everyone on board claimed they were there by accident.”

“Can you show me the others who were with her?”

“Yes—there were four total. One male, three females.”

“This one, like I said, was in the cell next to mine. So was this one. The other two—I’ve never seen them.”

“At least one of them must’ve purchased the other two. I’ll move these two to the victim file, and the others to the ‘needs investigation’ folder. ”

We continue like that, Onorio sorting profiles based on my input.

Suddenly, I recognize one of the buyers from my own sale. A shiver of disgust runs down my spine.

“That one! He tried to trade me for a hundred pistoblasters. But tell me, Onorio… what happens to them?”

“There’ll be a full psychological and background evaluation. Then a trial. Sentencing depends on how dangerous they’re deemed to be.”

I think of the Penubian who wanted to add me to his collection. The Tourb who just wanted a breeding partner. The cold, calculating stare of Noviosk. Not all of them deserve the same punishment.

We keep going until I come across Prax’s profile.

“I know him!” I say immediately.

“A buyer?” Onorio asks.

“His name is Prax. He was with the Penubian who captured me—Bully. Prax tried everything to get me out, even offered his two-seater ship in exchange for my freedom. It didn’t work… but in the end, he saved my life.”

“All right, we’ll release him,” Onorio says. “He was intercepted leaving the zone in his ship. Alone.”

I know I’ve bent the truth a little. But I owe him that. And I truly believe there’s good in him.

An hour later, we’ve gone through all the profiles. I’ve identified more guards than I expected, and several captives like myself .

But I haven’t seen all the potential buyers—or some of the guards.

“Are you sure you intercepted everyone?” I ask.

“No, that would’ve taken too many resources. But you said the head of Vagantu is dead…”

“Yes, he is. We saw it happen. But he’s not who I was thinking of.”

“Then who?”

“Oh… just some people I crossed paths with,” I say vaguely.

I have no idea whatThe Unshakeablelooks like—the one Pherebos is after. And as far as I know, his mission is classified. I can’t talk about it with Onorio. Maybe the guy escaped. I haven’t seen Bully either—Prax’s former associate.

According to Pherebos, that guy’s high enough in the organization to have access to secret defense plans. Maybe he blended in with the Confederation’s intervention teams to justify his presence.

Will he connect the dots between Pherebos’s presence and the massive sting operation underway?

Is my beautiful Asgarnian in danger?