Page 141 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Thorin

The ship was under fire, that was both good and bad news for us.

It was, no doubt, the only reason we’d gotten this far, given that the ship was filled to the brim with marines as well trained as Camila.

On the other hand, trying to fly a small shuttle out into a combat zone seemed extremely stupid and ill-advised—especially since neither Camila nor I had all that much experience flying a ship.

Kitan had given all of us former gladiators a crash course on how to fly the Vagabond and its shuttles.

He’d made sure we knew the call frequency for the ship, so that we could signal for help should we be stranded.

I hadn’t taken to that nearly as well as Jakar or Fierce had, despite having had experience flying surface vehicles back on Elrohira.

Flying a ship in space was just not the same as flying a hoverbike.

Right now, I was going to bet on it, that my skills would have to do, even if I couldn’t navigate worth a damn.

But to make it to a shuttle, I had to get there first, and it was becoming more and more evident that my injuries were too severe for me to make that walk.

I had a promise to keep, though; I wasn’t going to give up.

When Camila started checking the many lockers in this strange room, I took a moment to look at the contents of the medkit open on the floor at my feet.

The rough shaking of the ship a moment ago had scattered its contents, and while I couldn’t read the labels on any of the items, I did recognize what was clearly a warning sign on one of the injectors.

I picked it up. “Hey, babe, what’s this?

” I held up the injector so she could see it.

She was elbow-deep in a locker, pulling out shin guards of some kind.

Her dark eyes flashed my way and appraised the injector.

“Adrenaline, it’s a stimulant,” she said.

Exactly what I needed. I had already turned the injector and stabbed it into my thigh, just as she yelled, “No! We don’t know what it will do to you! ”

Too late, not that that would have stopped me.

I knew my body, and I was at the utmost limit.

If I hadn’t done this, we wouldn’t have made it.

Now, I felt all my nerves tingle with life, my heart pounding faster.

When Camila approached with the set of leg guards she had found, I snatched them from her hands and started strapping them tightly around my lower leg.

“Thanks, that should give adequate support.”

She was pale as a sheet when I glanced at her, but I focused on rifling through the medkit again to locate another roll of bandaging to wrap around my thigh.

It needed to be tight if I wanted to keep it from bleeding again when I started walking.

Whatever this adrenaline was, it didn’t do shit for killing the pain, but that was all right. I was used to that.

Sure, I’d done what I could to patch myself up.

I used the cane to prop myself back on my feet.

Nodding at Camila, I said, “Check the door. I’m guessing we need to move fast. I got this, promise.

” I meant it, I was not planning on dying today.

Not when I had a female to live for, a female who had chosen to stay with me.

Just thinking of that made my throat close up with emotion; I was so honored.

Without the weight of the pariah sigil hanging from my Caratan chain, I felt like a completely new man.

It had felt incredibly symbolic to leave it behind in that cell, should we escape but somehow fail to kill Drameil.

The thought of him finding that sigil felt cathartic, like a final “fuck you,” showing him that I’d truly escaped this time, not just physically, but mentally as well.

My eyes focused on Camila, where she stood, back pressed against the wall next to the door.

Her body was clad in what remained of her figure-hugging undersuit.

The leg portions were now cut short to almost halfway up her thighs, revealing the beautiful curve of her calves and her tan skin.

She was barefoot and grubby, with her long black hair in wild disarray around her shoulders, instead of that sexy braid.

She was breathtakingly beautiful. “If you drop dead from that adrenaline, I will revive you and kill you myself,” she snapped, when my eyes returned to her face.

I felt my blood pound a little faster, an inkling of desire stirring at her sass, despite my pain. “I’m counting on it.”

Then I limped her way, taking up position on her side by the door so that we could both safely look into the corridor when it opened.

She had her rifle back in hand, her hands steady and confident.

Giving a quick three-count, she slapped the panel to open the door, and we both scanned left and right.

My eyes went to the door behind which we’d managed to lock that squad of humans; it was closed, and shouting and thumping could be heard from behind it.

“Wow, they didn’t manage to get out? What kind of idiots are they? ”

Camila shrugged a slender shoulder as she led the way into the corridor again.

This time, with better support for my leg and adrenaline tingling through my veins, I could keep up with her.

“They were a new squad, just out of training. Probably don’t know jack shit about cracking a lock.

They’re in an armory, though, give them another few minutes and they’ll try blowing the door.

” And then, under her breath, she muttered, “And themselves with it, probably.”

The corridor ended in a split, and Camila confidently started leading us one way, then winced at the sound of many thudding boots and hurried us in the other direction.

More units were mobilizing now, and we had to deviate our path twice more.

I was starting to feel like we were being herded at this point, and Camila was cursing under her breath in a foreign language my translator couldn’t pick up—clearly thinking the same thing.

“That next turn is going to force us into a dead end, damn it!” she growled.

I shrugged. “We’ll have to stand and fight.” That wasn’t a problem for me; I had no issue shooting or killing any of the bastards on our tail. But these were former colleagues of Camila, she’d shared meals, drinks, and training with some of these people.

As we expected, the sound of soldiers at the next split meant we’d have to back ourselves into the dead end on the other side.

The noise coming from behind us made it clear we couldn’t try to turn around and backtrack.

“I say, fuck ’em, let’s charge,” I told Camila.

They wouldn’t expect that, certainly not while I was this wounded.

Drameil would have told them I was done for, with my leg broken.

My proud, fierce female shot me a sad smile, turned it into a determined grin, and gave me a nod.

We were a little low on arms, having taken only one rifle and a pistol.

I was better with the pistol than the rifle, so I took it from her.

Then we carefully took up position on either side of a wall and edged forward.

I used the wall for support, hooking the cane to my belt so that it wouldn’t make its tapping noise on the floor.

As the squad of marines came into view around the corner, Camila lifted her rifle to her shoulder, aimed, and fired without hesitation.

So I followed her lead, squeezing off a round from the pistol.

Our surprise attack did the trick, mowing down half their number before they regrouped enough to duck for cover.

We exchanged several more rounds of fire, keeping each other pinned rather successfully, but the sound of footsteps approaching from behind us made this situation untenable.

“Keep them busy,” I ordered Camila, sliding the pistol across the floor to her.

She didn’t acknowledge the weapon thudding against her boot, but I watched as her mouth thinned in anger.

Then I gripped the cane tightly in my fist, slid to the corner at the back, and got ready to whack those behind us in the face.

They didn’t expect me, and I made short work of the first three, who kept moving forward despite their buddies dropping to the ground.

Then it turned into some fancy footwork, forcing me to put weight on my broken leg, held together by the shinguards.

I did what I did best, twirling around them, dodging and weaving, whacking them with the improvised weapon while they scrambled to track me and mount some kind of defense.

There was a triumphant yell from Camila, then laser fire whizzed over my shoulder and knocked out one of my opponents.

A second later, the two of us were standing in shocked surprise in the center of a scene of carnage, well…

not exactly carnage, because my blunt weapon meant most injuries were non-lethal.

“Did we just take out two squads together?” Camila asked on a husky breath.

I grinned. “Damn right we did.” But there was no time to celebrate our small victory.

We hurried to collect supplies, Camila exchanging her pistol and rifle for fresher ones.

I picked up two pistols of my own, tucking them into a belt I snatched as well.

We’d just started back on our route forward when I realized my leg was bleeding again.

The shinguard was holding, but I knew it wouldn’t take long before I wouldn’t be able to keep going.

Already, the adrenaline was fading from my system, no longer buzzing and tingling.

I felt bone-deep exhaustion and a crazy itch in my leg on top of the pain.