Page 265 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Because that voice was so much more alien, so frightening, it stood out when he repeated a word the others had already said a few times before: Yenger. It had to mean something, but what? Clearly, this terrifying alien didn’t have that word in his own language. Was it a name?

The others fell silent when he spoke, and then it was just footsteps and that thwap as they crossed over my hiding spot. I held my breath in that silence, terrified that they would discover me at what could very well be their last time passing by. That would be just my luck.

Somehow, it held, their footsteps fading until I heard the swish of doors closing behind them.

The ship felt different once they left, and I dared to draw in air more deeply, struggling to contain the itch in my throat when I inhaled dust. I didn’t dare cough until the ship started shaking and trembling, the same as it had when they arrived.

Then I lay there a little longer, irrationally scared that if I pushed the floor panel free, I’d find that scary alien on the other side.

I imagined a snake head on a human body, with long, clawed hands—maybe even some kind of freaky spike, like a scorpion tail.

Maybe that was the strange noise I’d heard.

Eventually, I gave in to the cramps in my calves, to the desire to see the light again.

Shoving the panel clear, I cautiously stuck my head out of the smuggler’s hatch and looked around.

I didn’t see anyone, and the hallway didn’t look any different than before…

A glance at my grandmother’s old watch told me that about forty minutes had passed since I’d crawled into that hiding spot.

Whoa, that was a long time, no wonder I felt like a shaky, boneless noodle.

Pulling myself from the hole, I crawled to my hands and knees, plunking my ass against the nearest wall.

Sitting there, I contemplated my lucky escape for a moment, then pulled out the final two ration bars I had left.

I had more water, you could go quite a long time without food if you had water, right?

I wasn’t sure how long that was, and I hoped I wouldn’t feel hungry after a while.

Already, the strict rationing and subpar food had made me lose weight.

Maybe now my brother wouldn’t think I needed to go on a diet.

Was it safe to go to the bridge and try to call Da’vi again?

Had the ship truly left? Forcing myself to get to my feet, I kept one hand on the wall as I walked.

I felt unsteady, exhausted, and so very lonely.

Four weeks without seeing a single person was a long time, and I normally surrounded myself with people.

I hated being alone. With an adrenaline crash hitting me hard, I just wanted to sit down and weep.

No, I was made of sterner stuff, damn it! I hadn’t cried about any of this when I woke up. I hadn’t cried in the dead of night at any point during these long weeks. Rescue was close; I just needed to hang in there a little longer.

The bridge was dark, and all the consoles were turned off, just like they had been when I’d first found this place.

I didn’t touch any of the panels, creeping to a position in front of the big viewscreens so I could scan them for any sign of the black ship.

Da’vi said he thought it was a person named Drameil; he spoke the name with a hissing sound I couldn’t replicate.

It definitely suited a snake-like alien.

On the screen, I could make out the many pieces of wreckage that surrounded the ship I was on—or rather, the part of the ship I was on.

It had once been a massive ship, according to Da’vi, and something had torn it to pieces.

If not for the many bulkheads that had come down, there would be no air for me to breathe.

Heart racing, I watched the sleek black form of a ship drift across the front of the bridge.

It seemed huge, with blinking lights and sharp, jagged edges.

It looked mean and dangerous. Then it turned, and I was looking at what I sincerely hoped was the back end of the ship, with two big, glowing things at the end.

They glowed brighter, the color sharp and blue, searing into my eyes, so I threw up my hand to block out the sight.

There was the instinctive urge to hide, as if they could see me through the viewscreens, which looked so much like windows. I felt exposed, and I feared that they were going to turn around and dock again, haul me out of here by force.

When the light faded away, I could see that the ship was disappearing into space, back the way it had come.

That confirmation—that they had left without discovering me—made me sink to my knees in front of the screen.

I needed to get my butt into gear. I should reach out to Da’vi to let him know I’d survived, but for the life of me, I couldn’t seem to get myself to move.

My watch said I’d sat there staring after the departing ship for close to five minutes.

I could no longer see any sign of it now.

Pulling myself upright by the edge of the nearest console, I stumbled toward the com, my hand already reaching out to press the button that always connected me to my grumpy mechanic.

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement on the viewscreen, and I whirled around to look.

Was that the bad guys coming back? I hadn’t actually pressed call yet, had they picked up my presence?

Looking more fully, I drew in a relieved breath.

This ship was silver, with glowing orange engines.

It was sleek and fast-looking, but out there in space, I had no idea how big it really was, I had no frame of reference.

For a moment, I debated whether I should hide again, but I was pretty certain I knew who this was.

Then the silver ship turned, and I got a good look at the side where a call sign had been painted onto the shiny hull plating in big black letters.

There were two scripts, one above the other, but the fact that the slightly smaller set of letters was plain English…

The Vagabond was Da’vi’s ship, I knew it. How had he managed to get it here this quickly? I had fully expected him to reach me days from now. Filled with excitement, fear and exhaustion forgotten, I bolted from the bridge and rushed to the only working airlock.