Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Takkian
Takkian moved fast but kept his steps smooth. The moment he broke into a run, they’d notice. Just another face in a crowd—that’s what he told himself. But his nerves buzzed, and his wings itched to unfurl. He’d never flown, as far as he knew. This was not the time to learn how.
He shifted left down a narrow path where corridors widened and broke off to residential quarters, eateries, and storage warehouses. Crates loomed like walls, stacked three high. A perfect maze. Perfect for him. He ducked into the shadows.
The Axis agents’ boots thudded behind him, steady and relentless. They weren’t running either. They didn’t have to. The tracker they had was doing the hard part for them. The thought of their device leading them fueled the fire burning under his ribs. It made him want to smash it apart. To burn down the outpost just as he had the arena.
But that wasn’t the plan. And there were innocent people here. All he could do was keep moving. Not get caught.
A voice echoed somewhere to his left. “Signal’s shifting. He’s close.”
Takkian gritted his teeth and pressed himself against the nearest stack of crates. The cold metal at his back grounded him, but he didn’t let himself breathe too loudly. He peeked out for a better look.
There were three of them now, spread out in a loose formation. The agent holding the tracker called the shots with quick hand gestures. The other two flanked him, weapons drawn. Probably not charged to lethal levels. They’d want him alive, at least for now.
Takkian slid behind a wider crate, and crouched to stay out of sight. He reached for his blade, just in case. His dragon fire flickered deep in his throat.
One agent veered closer, scanning. Takkian shifted, his hand skimming the edge of the crate. Calm. Stay calm.
“Anything?” the voice barked again.
“Can’t be sure. The signal keeps bouncing.”
Takkian smirked grimly. The outpost was chaotic enough to throw off even their fancy tech. For now . He glanced over his shoulder to check the nearest exit—a small hatch leading toward the bays. If he could get to it…
A low hum started up near the docks. Engines powering on. Ships leaving. He swore under his breath. The sounds would mask the noise his movements, but leaving his hiding spot meant it was more likely the Axis agents would spot him. He needed to time this perfectly.
The agent nearest him moved again, edging closer to the stack of crates shielding Takkian. His boots tapped against the metal flooring, unnerving in their rhythm. Takkian tightened his grip on the blade. If it came down to survival, he wouldn’t hesitate to bury it in the agent’s throat.
The leader’s voice cut through the din. “Spread out more. Cut off the bays.”
Takkian clenched his jaw. They were getting smarter. He looked over crates, pipes, and vents, looking for anything— anything —that could buy him another few moments. His gaze landed on an unsteady pile of metal barrels a few yards away, precariously balanced on a platform. There .
He worked his way around the stack of crates, every silent step calculated. His muscles coiled like springs as he positioned himself behind the barrels. He reached up, about to give one of the lower barrels a solid shove.
Suddenly, Takkian froze. His hand was still pressed against the barrel as motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked upward, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of… wings?
Not just any wings—Zaruxian wings. Two figures flew through the high ceiling of the hangar. Their forms sliced through the air with swift precision.
For a fleeting moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Other things moved through the air, like messenger drones and the odd small-winged being, but the glint of red scales on one and deep purple on the other confirmed it. Shock rippled through him, locking his muscles for a beat too long.
“One’s above! Movement!” one agent shouted.
The Axis agents turned, attention diverted. Takkian yanked his hand away from the barrel and pressed farther into the shadows. He needed to stay invisible, needed to use this moment. But his gaze kept flicking upward.
The purple-scaled Zaruxian moved first, diving from above so fast he was a blur. His wings slashed down with smooth power, propelling him forward like a spear cutting through water. The other—deep red—descended with measured movements. His motion controlled and no less precise. They soared straight into the heart of the chaos below, disrupting the Axis agents’ careful formation.
Takkian’s breath hitched. They had no hesitation, no fear. There was no doubt in his mind that these were the Zaruxians they’d been seeking. The ones traveling with Sevas’ friends. One of them was the former overseer of her penal colony. This meant one thing—Sevas and Bruil had found them and convinced them to help him.
His throat went tight with an emotion he couldn’t put a name to. The red-scaled Zaruxian landed on the floor with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the surfaces. One of the agents stumbled backward, struggling to stay upright as the Zaruxian’s claws gleamed in the dim light.
“Targets acquired,” the Axis agent shouted, raising his blaster. The other two agents surged forward, weapons at the ready.
The deep purple Zaruxian swooped down next, landing with a fluid grace that made Takkian’s own wings twitch with envy. He moved like a predator. His sharp, silver eyes were cold as his massive frame straightened to its full height. His voice rang out, deep and commanding. “You have one pik to move on or this will be your end.”
Takkian couldn’t deny the flicker of awe that twisted in his chest. These weren’t just Zaruxians—they were warriors, unyielding and fierce, but different from him. He weighed his options as he allowed the Axis agents to choose. Unsurprisingly, they scrambled into action, weapons aimed and charged. The lead agent barked orders over the din. “Take them down.”
Takkian was done watching. He leaped from the shadows, narrowly avoiding a sizzling burst of plasma energy. He dodged out of the way and drew his blade from its sheath with a cool scrape.
The fight had broken the controlled chaos of the docking bay into outright pandemonium. Dock workers screamed, merchants abandoned their stalls, and the clang of falling cargo filled the air as people fled. Some joined the fight—attacking Axis agents or each other.
He moved fast and closed in on an agent too focused on the blaster fire to notice him. The weapon in the agent’s grip was charged, but Takkian didn’t give him a chance to use it. With a powerful swipe, his blade slashed across the thin joint of the agent’s armor at the wrist. The weapon tumbled to the floor, sizzling where it struck.
The agent stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm. Takkian didn’t hesitate. With a sharp pivot, he drove a powerful fist into the agent’s chest, slamming him against a stack of crates. The crack of impact echoed through the bay, and the agent crumpled, unconscious.
“Another one down,” the red-scaled Zaruxian called. He glanced at Takkian briefly, a flash of silver eyes meeting silver. “You caused quite a stir here, didn’t you?”
“They started it,” he said with a grin. Then, without looking back, he added, “Who the fek are you?”
“Your rescue team,” the red-scaled Zaruxian shouted as he dodged another blaster bolt. He ducked behind a stack of fuel canisters and popped up on the other side, returning fire with precision. “And we’re late, apparently.”
The purple-scaled Zaruxian moved in close, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. “Introductions later. Help us finish this so we can get out of here.”
Takkian nodded. Fair enough. He charged toward the third agent, who’d turned his focus on the commotion unfolding with the two other Zaruxians. The agent didn’t see Takkian coming until it was too late. He closed the distance in seconds, ducking low to avoid the swing of a stun baton. He shoved his shoulder into the agent’s midsection, sending him sprawling onto the ground. But the agent grabbed hold of Takkian’s leather armor and pulled him off balance.
A prick of pain on his neck made Takkian hiss and shake himself free. He placed a hand on his neck as he saw a small device in the agent’s hand. His legs suddenly felt weak. “Fek,” he cursed. His blade fell from his loose grip. He’d been injected with something.
The agent scrambled to his feet as Takkian fell to his knees, his vision blurry. The agent raised his blaster. “Renegade Zaruxian is neutra—”
The agent didn’t finish, as his words were cut off by a sharp sizzle that sliced through the chaos. The scent of seared metal filled the air. Takkian watched the agent fall to the floor. The device that had tracked him clattered on the smooth, hard surface. He looked up. Standing over the downed agent with calm intensity was Sevas.
Her crimson eyes flared as she brought her heel down on the tracking device, shattering it. A faint wisp of vapor curled from the muzzle of her blaster as she lowered it. It wasn’t the one he’d given Bruil. He did not know where she’d gotten it. Her makeshift outfit—tight black pants and that ridiculous, ill-fitting shirt she’d fashioned into something functional—didn’t lessen the sheer authority she exuded in that moment.
Takkian blinked, his lips pulling into a wolfish grin despite the weakness in his limbs. “Sevas?”
She didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze stayed fixed on the unconscious agent sprawled at her feet. Then she looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you could handle this on your own?” she asked, her tone even but laced with a sharp edge.
“A warrior’s got his pride,” Takkian said in a slightly slurred voice. “But fek , you’re magnificent.”
Sevas smirked and crouched at his side. “That’s right. And even warriors need backup sometimes.”
He let out a low chuckle. “I thought I told you to stay away.”
“Sorry. Obedience isn’t one of my many skills,” Sevas quipped. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun.”
Before Takkian could respond, the red-scaled Zaruxian appeared beside them. He gave Sevas an approving nod as he reached down and helped Takkian to his feet. “That was the last Axis agent. Let’s get you two back to the ship.”
Takkian’s limbs were weak, but the drug he’d been given hadn’t incapacitated him completely. He gripped the other male’s arm, but stood upright by sheer force of will. “And out of here. This place will soon be swarmed by Axis agents.”
“True.” The purple-scaled Zaruxian approached and took his other arm. He was the same height as Takkian, but bore only a few scars. “You’re Takkian, aren’t you?”
Takkian’s claws flexed instinctively. “Yes, and you’ve met Sevas,” he said. “My mate. Who are you?”
The purple-scaled Zaruxian shoved a pair of fist-fighting beings out of the way. “I am Ellion. And this is Cyprian.” He nodded toward the red-scaled Zaruxian, who gave Takkian a casual grin as if they weren’t all walking through the middle of a battlefield littered with unconscious Axis agents and other beings.
“You’re both Zaruxians,” Takkian said, though the statement was more for himself than for them. It felt surreal, seeing them here when he’d thought He and Bruil were the only ones for so long.
“Glad to see you’ve got eyes, brother,” said Cyprian. “Makes this whole reunion a lot easier.”
Takkian bristled at the term. “Brother?”
Ellion’s gaze softened just slightly, though his towering presence remained imposing. “Counting you and your friend, Bruil, there are only four of us left, Takkian.”
“That we know of,” Cyprian added.
Ellion’s head snapped toward the sounds of distant shouting. The noise of disorganized footsteps echoed through the docking bay. “Can you walk faster?” he asked. “Or has the nerve agent not burned off yet?”
Takkian winced and clenched his fists. There was a little more strength in them. “It’s easing. I’ll be fine.”
Cyprian gave him a quick nod. “Stick close. This place is a maze, but we navigated it well enough.”
Without another word, Ellion tucked back his wings and led them toward the docking platform. His movements were precise, deliberate, and full of purpose, even as the sounds of chaos roared louder behind them.
Takkian grabbed Sevas’ hand. “Stay close.”
“Always,” she replied, squeezing his hand. She held the blaster in one hand with ease. He was well matched with his warrior mate.
Takkian grunted as he forced movement into his weakened legs. He wanted answers too, but right now, survival came first. The sounds of marching grew louder, the distinct clang of boots on metal echoing through the bay. Axis reinforcements were on their way.