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Blood streamed down his face as he staggered backward. Spot stuck out a leg, optical sensors flashing with glee as Rettnor tripped and crashed to the floor with an undignified yelp.

A stunned silence fell over the nearby crowd before whispers erupted like wildfire.

Rettnor glared up at her, hand clutching his nose. "Security! Arrest her! She attacked me!"

Four security officers pushed through the gathering spectators, their uniforms bearing the NeuroSyn corporate logo rather than station security.

"What happened here?" the lead officer asked.

"This woman assaulted me without provocation," Rettnor snarled, struggling to his feet and aiming a kick at Spot. The drakeen core skittered sideways out of reach and made a rude noise. "I want her arrested immediately."

The officer glanced at Mira, then at her costume. "Identification, please."

Mira pulled out her player ID card. "Salvation. VIP demonstrator."

The officer's expression changed instantly. "Ms. Salvation. We've been expecting you." He turned to his colleagues. "Escort Ms. Salvation and her party to the VIP area."

"Wait, what?" Rettnor spluttered. "She broke my nose!"

"Sir, please calm down," the officer replied. He ran a scanner over Rettnor's security badge and frowned. "Dr. Rettnor. It says here that your parole conditions specifically prohibit contact with former staff and public disturbances."

The color drained from Rettnor's face. "This is ridiculous -"

"Your parole officer has been notified," the security officer continued, gesturing to his colleagues. "Please come with us."

As two officers flanked Rettnor, she caught his eye and winked. "You're not worth the effort, Rettnor. Never were."

"You little bitch!" The doctor's face contorted with hatred, but the security team was already dragging him, struggling, away.

Davis stepped to her side, pride evident in his expression. "That was impressive."

"The punch or the verbal takedown?" she asked, flexing her sore knuckles.

"Both." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You didn't need me to step in at all."

"No," she agreed, "but I'm glad you were here anyway."

A NeuroSyn representative approached, tablet in hand. "Ms. Salvation? We're ready for you in the VIP demonstration area."

Mira nodded, suddenly aware of the crowd watching them. "Lead the way."

The representative glanced at her group. "Your companions can watch from the VIP section, but only registered players are allowed in the demonstration arena."

"Of course," she replied, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready."

"Good luck," Davis said, pride evident in his voice.

Six weeks ago, she'd been ready to run from him, from the changes he was undergoing. Now, she couldn't imagine being anywhere else but this moment was hers.

"I don't need luck," she replied with a confident smile. "But thanks for being here."

"Always," he promised.

Spot chirped at her feet, sensors flashing with approval. She glanced down at her faithful companion, then back at Davis and the Reapers, who had become her family.

"Hell yeah, Reapers always win," she said.

"Abso- fucking -lutely," Ryke called from behind Davis.

With her head held high and Spot at her heels, she stepped into the spotlight, ready to show the gaming world exactly who she was.

* * *

Rann leaned against the combat shuttle's airlock, watching the others disappear into the station's bustling crowd.

He tracked them until they vanished around a corner, their gaudy costumes swallowed by the sea of humanity.

Pushing off from the airlock frame, he stepped back inside.

The others had offered for him to go with them, but after what had happened, they deserved space from him.

From the danger his presence had attracted.

His jaw tightened as he moved through the Lady's Dream's compact combat shuttle.

Each footstep echoed in the space. No one had said it outright, but it was in the sidelong glances and the abrupt silences when he entered a room.

And then Ryke had suggested he stay with the shuttle, his longtime friend's voice too even, too controlled Yeah, volunteering had been easier than being asked.

Dropping into the pilot's seat, he ran a systems check out of habit. Maintenance crews serviced vessels outside the viewport while cargo handlers loaded and unloaded supplies. They were all human ships with human crews, but the scene was the same as in any other spaceport.

His comm unit buzzed. Pulling it from his pocket, he noted the encryption signature and activated the secure channel. "I'm here."

"About damn time." The gruff voice brought him back decades. "Thought you were dead."

"Not for lack of trying on their part." He kept his voice low. "What did you find?"

"Nothing good. The directive comes from high up. Someone's calling in every marker, pulling every string by the looks of it."

The skin at the back of his neck tightened. "Why now? After all these years?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" A pause. "They're desperate enough to risk exposure. Operating way outside their usual channels."

"I need a name."

"Working on it. But watch yourself. This smells like a purge."

The connection terminated before he could respond. He pocketed his comm, fingers momentarily fumbling the device. A purge meant only one thing someone was eliminating loose ends. People who knew things they shouldn't.

People like him.

He stood, yanking at his collar. After three quick strides across the shuttle, he stopped, muscles coiled tight. The walls felt too close, and his hands balled into fists. He needed to move, to think.

After setting the security protocols, he slipped out of the shuttle. Because he was in human space, he walked with a slight hunch to minimize his height and tilted his head to keep his face in shadow.

He headed through the docking bay, muscles tense under the weight of decisions made years ago that still chased him. Two security officers made their rounds, barely glancing at him as he passed them.

Despite the convention drawing most visitors toward the main concourse, the commercial bay adjacent to the docking area still bustled with activity. Shops and service providers lined the walls, selling everything travelers might need before departing.

He paused as a human male in gray overalls caught his attention. The human stood beside an information console, speaking into a comm unit. Something about his posture and how he constantly scanned his surroundings caught Rann's attention.

"Yeah, I'm heading to pick them up now." The man's voice was almost lost in the din of the concourse. Rann moved closer, pretending to check something on another information terminal nearby. "Flight plan says they're registered as colonists. Six women."

"First job for you, ain't it, Kenton?" The voice on the comm was hard. "Don't fuck it up. The buyers are paying top credit for untouched merchandise."

Rann's fingers stilled on the terminal keypad. Human trafficking. His jaw clenched. Some things were the same across the galaxy.

Kenton's shoulders tensed. "The charter pilot's dead. Dumped him in maintenance shaft C-7. Had to cut his throat when he started asking questions."

"As long as there's no trail."

Kenton shook his head. "I'm gonna need to get out of this place before he starts to stink. And these bitches think they're heading to Tarsis Colony to start new lives what if they ask questions when we change course?"

"That's what the sedatives are for, genius. We're not amateurs. Just get them to docking bay twelve," the voice carried on. "They're expecting their 'charter pilot' any minute. Don't look suspicious or security will -"

"I got it," Kenton said, pocketing his comm. "I'm not stupid, asshole."

Rann watched the man straighten his clothing and head toward the passenger terminals. Giving it about thirty seconds, he pretended to finish up his search and then followed, making sure to keep enough distance to avoid being noticed.

The crowds provided perfect cover. Convention-goers in extravagant costumes drew all attention, letting him move like a shadow behind his target. Kenton reached a junction and turned left toward the waiting areas.

He followed along, waiting until the human turned into a less populated corridor, then closed the distance in long strides. When they reached a maintenance junction, he grabbed the man's collar and yanked him into the empty service hallway.

"What the-" Kenton's protest ended abruptly as his back hit the wall.

"The women in bay twelve," Rann growled. "Tell me about them."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Fear flashed across the human's face as he registered Rann's height and alien features.

He leaned closer. Snarled. "Wrong answer."

Kenton's eyes flicked toward the exit. "Security will -"

"Never find your body."

The knife slid between the human's ribs with practiced precision. It was a direct strike to the heart quick, nearly painless. The human's eyes widened in surprise, then dulled as he slid down the wall.

Rann flicked the blood off the blade before returning it to its sheath.

" Draanth it," he growled, looking down.

Blood splattered across the front of the coveralls.

.. the ones he needed to pretend to be the pilot.

Stripping them from the dead man, he put them on over his clothes and sighed as he looked at himself.

The cut where the blade had gone through the fabric was tiny maybe they wouldn't notice the dark stains.

The personnel tablet he took from the pocket contained clearance codes and details about the so-called 'charter flight.' He rubbed at the stubble on his chin as he read. Six females had pooled resources to purchase land on a frontier colony.

Six females who thought they were about to start a new life.

Six females who had been about to disappear without him.

He tapped his comm unit, connecting to the Lady's Dream through the shuttle link. "Jex, I'm going dark for a while."

"Understood," came the immediate reply. "Situation?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

"Time frame?" That was what he liked about Jex; the big ex-cyborg didn't mince words.

Rann shrugged as he looked at the star charts on the tablet.

"Twenty-six hours, give or take. If I'm not in contact by then, tell Ryke..." He paused.

"Tell him I'm fixing something I broke."

Thank you for reading Salvation for the Alien Mercenary! I hope you enjoyed Davis and Mira s story!!

The next book in the Alien Mercenaries: Reapers series will be Rann s story!!