CHAPTER 21- ALYA

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Sweat poured down Alya's face, into her eyes, dripping down her lashes. She swiped it away with the back of her wrist before throwing out a cross punch, followed up by a jab, sending the sandbag flying. After their meeting on the dock, Zion had dismissed everyone except Jorrit so they could plan a way into the most secured place in the galaxy. Labrys-the underground base on the Planet Oclypso, where experiments on people were done, brainwashing men into monsters- where Jayden was being held now.

Alya adjusted her hand wrap, took a step back-calculated and measured-then pivoting around one heel. She kicked off the punching bag, propelling it across the room with momentum that equalled her retained frustration. Just thinking about how everything had gone crazy in such a short amount of time, was maddening enough. How had her life gone from smooth planetary sailing, to a black galaxy storm in just a few short days?

A low chuckle jolted Alya out of her preoccupation. "Need a partner?"

She inclined her head to look behind her. Parker leanied against the wall, hands folded against chest and his full mouth amiably curved at the corner, a bluish bruise from their earlier escape battle in Arsania still marring the side of his jaw.

"Want a sparring partner?" Parker asked again with his usual cocky sidelong grin. "You look like you need more than a sad sack of sand to kick around."

Alya looked him over. She had been so focused on her own thoughts that she didn't hear the glass panels woosh open, or Parker come into the room. He must have been watching her for a good few minutes. She straightened her spine and held the punching bag in place so it stopped swinging.

A dark eyebrow rose. "You sure you're up for that?" Even as she said it, just remembering the footage of his fights in the arena gave her a vague sense of dread. The brutality. Crimson pooling into black puddles on the ashen ground. The gut-wrenching groan of his victim. But the look on his face wasn't the barbaric stone mask he wore in the arena.

Parker scoffed, and kicked off his clunky black boots, then took fingered his belt buckle. Alya's breath hitched with that movement, and she almost looked away-almost. He peels his jacket off and tossed it on top of the heap. "You'll go easy on me, right?" He peeked over at her between the chunks of hair hanging in his face as he tugged his shirt down over the small patch of skin right above his hip.

The corner of Alya's lips quirked up, her eyes assessing the distance between them. "Not gonna happen."

He returned her smile, with a little more added malice. "Good." He tilted his head and crack his neck, then did the same to the other side.

They stood across from each other, firming their stances. There was a breath of a pause, two coherent heartbeats in silence, and then Alya struck first. She threw out a straight jab. Parker dodged easily, slipping his hands in front to guard his face. His fingers slightly grazed her arm in a soft caress.

"Need to be faster than that, Lieutenant." He blocked another right hook aiming for his jaw. "You promised not to hold back.

The little shit. He was the one holding back. Playful. Teasing. Alya played along too. She swished to the side, and then back with quick feetwork, her ponytail swishing behind her with each movement.

"I'm not."She pulled her knee up, aiming for his chest, but he twisted to the side and grabbed her arm in a move to get her into an arm lock.

She slipped out, with a split second to spare, and rotated her wrist around to grab at him. He easily broke through her lock and took a step back, keeping his ditance. But alya wasn't going to let him go that easily. She was through with punches and kicks. She needs to grab and pull.

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