Page 320 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

I was more focused on the sheer amount of gold the mercs were moving.

I had held a faint hope that there would be some kind of valuables here, but this much?

We had paid them more than enough. I was ready to go to bat on that count if the Captain was going to deny the other aliens access to the mine passage. I wasn’t going to leave anyone behind.

Behind me, Eoin and Aramon’s conversation was growing more and more heated, and I knew there was only one way to fix that.

I’d have to get the Captain to release Aramon from his task, or this was going to take forever.

Casting my eyes about, I searched for the sleek black body of the Naga and located him at the entrance to a warehouse, where he seemed to be overseeing the loading of the cargo shuttle.

“Stay here, Oliver,” I said to the human who had been standing quietly at my side, observing the arguing pair of aliens with what was clearly fascination. He gave me a lopsided smile, his eyes twinkling, and a nod that seemed to convey he was happily going to remain and keep watching the show.

Jogging away, Solear silently fell in behind me. “Captain!” I called out as the half-man, half-snake moved his body in a creepily agile twist to look at my approach. “I think it’s time the other shuttle is fetched, but Aramon doesn’t want to go…”

I received a grin that displayed two sharp sets of fangs, one set coming down from the top, the other jutting up from below.

I had no doubt those fangs were venomous, and I wanted to instinctively flinch away from them.

Ziame, the captain of the Vagabond, had a venomous pair of fangs too, and I could never look at them when he ate.

“Yesss,” he said, drawing out the word with a hiss.

“It is time for the second shuttle.” His hand lifted, and a sharp black claw pointed at the stretch of sky above the camp’s gate.

I didn’t know if he’d timed it like that on purpose or if it was just a coincidence.

The shuttle we’d arrived in soared into view, coming down to a landing next to the cargo shuttle with the accompaniment of a huge cloud of dust.

“I guess you wish to take all of these males to safety? Yesss?” the Naga asked, and I felt the first stirrings of my self-consciousness kicking in.

This was where he was going to demand we pay them more, despite all that gold being more than enough payment.

I gave him a nod to start with, since my mouth had gone a little dry and I was desperately swallowing to get back some moisture.

“Very well, I suppose we can’t leave them here.

They can find sanctuary in Rakex,” the Captain said, taking all the air out of my sails in one fell swoop.

He agreed? Just like that? I’d take it, but it just went to show that he wasn’t as mercenary a mercenary as he liked people to think he and his crew were.

I vaguely recalled that Aramon had said nearly the same thing when we first started freeing them.

“Go load them up. Mitnick says we’ll have incoming in less than two minutes, so you’d better hurry.” He didn’t have to tell me twice, I was already rushing back the way I’d come, only to discover that Aramon and Eoin were already at the shuttle, urging the rescued males inside.

When I got closer, I could hear Aramon loudly cussing out the mercenary standing next to him.

“Do not ever touch my precious controls again with your grubby Kefis hands, you fucker. I do not need that shit everywhere!” The male was grinning back at him and wiggling his fingers in a tease, the digits stained with some kind of orange dust. I swear, it looked just like the fingers of a teenager after they’d scarfed down an entire bag of Cheetos.

Brushing past them, I took a moment to share a smile with Eoin, my hand brushing along his hip.

Then I directed Oliver to a jumpseat and helped some of the more exhausted or wounded males do the same.

I fell into this role that felt so right and yet so unfamiliar.

I offered my name, asked for theirs, calmed nerves, and checked their pain levels so I could administer pain relief if needed.

Realizing that the shuttle didn’t hold the first human we’d rescued—after I had all the others settled—sent a rush of cold fear washing over me.

Had he died? Had they dumped his body somewhere?

He’d been so badly hurt, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

I charged back out of the shuttle, ready to demand answers, but Eoin suddenly blocked my way. “We have to go, now!”

I struggled. “No, the other human!” He had me around the waist, lifting me into the shuttle like I weighed absolutely nothing, his heavy boots thudding on the metal flooring. Aramon and Solear were already inside, settling into the pilot and navigator seats.

Behind Eoin and me, a whole horde of mercenaries was rushing inside.

Last but not least, Jaxin leaped onto the gangplank, his cannon aimed and spewing a deafening barrage of laser fire.

The whole shuttle wobbled, lifting off with the hatch still open.

I could see the courtyard of the mining camp getting smaller below us.

The cargo shuttle was still parked in place, with the Captain standing defensively at the hatch, urging the last of his men—and their precious bars of gold—inside.

“Hold on!” Aramon shouted with glee, the shuttle banking sharply to the left.

Most of the passengers on the ship had found either a seat or a handhold, and they did, in fact, hold on.

My only handhold was Eoin; my feet weren’t even touching the floor, and Eoin wasn’t in range of a handhold, but he just made his own; we didn’t budge an inch.

Jaxin was not so fortunate, sliding precariously across the still-open hatch and fumbling with the heavy laser cannon in his arms. He would go straight over the edge if he didn’t drop the cannon and grab on.

“Get inside, Jax!” Aramon shouted, somehow able to see his buddy’s predicament while flying.

“Drop the cannon,” Eoin suggested. This was met with cursing and fervent denial; it appeared Jaxin would rather tumble to his death than part with his precious portable cannon.

Some of the other mercenaries were trying to reach him so they could haul him inside, but with the wild flying, that was hard to do.

With a curse, Eoin’s arm suddenly changed its hold on me.

He pressed me to the nearest wall, still near the exit and far from any safe handholds.

“Grab this,” he said, his hand forging steel out of what appeared to be thin air, forming a crude handhold for me.

I grabbed on immediately, and he seemed to trust that I would, already turning away from me and throwing his whole body at the weapon master.

Just in time, the weapon master had lost his footing and begun a dangerous slide over the edge of the gangplank, laser fire whizzing left and right, some of it hitting his dangling legs.

It looked like Eoin was throwing himself over the edge without a care for his life, but he was actually sliding over the ramp on his belly, metal melting from his body to tether him to the shuttle.

He closed a fist around one of Jaxin’s arms, arresting his fall, and the crazy Rummicaron whooped, his cannon blasting away again.

“Circle around Aramon!” he yelled. “I’m laying down cover fire for the boss!

” The pilot swung the shuttle around to do just that.

I had to grip Eoin’s handhold with both hands, the G-forces strong enough that my feet struggled to keep purchase on the shuttle floor.

I had one perfect snapshot of the courtyard and the dozens of vehicles that had entered through the gate as we circled around it.

The Varakartoom shuttle was stuck right in the middle of it, apparently struggling to lift off with all the gold and other treasure loaded inside.

Laser fire was issuing from the hatch, but it was Jaxin, dangling over the edge of our hatch, who was making the decisive difference with his cannon.

As soon as it was up in the air, Eoin strained to reel in Jaxin’s bulky frame.

I didn’t draw a full breath until both of them were safely inside and the hatch was closed.

That was insane, that Rummicaron was utterly crazy, just like Aramon.

At least we were finally making our way up to the Varakartoom, and as far as I could tell, no one had gotten seriously hurt.

Except for that first human man, where was he? What had happened to him? I felt a clawing sense of dread, and a sense of failure filled me. I should have checked on him; I should have asked if he’d arrived safely on the shuttle.