The Shikari - Space Hunter Chronicles #1 - Sample - OUT NOW!

Chapter Three

DUTY-BOUND

Year: 2364

2 parsecs from the Dorado constellation

Kiros glared at Drys Lyons across the bridge. The man had saved his life too many times to count, and Kiros should be counting. Such debts he would need to repay.

Now Drys paced with furious energy, his gray hair brushing his shoulders as he rubbed his salt and pepper beard. "Something don't feel right, y'know."

The implication that Mick Danvers deceived him was preposterous, downright laughable. The kid was too sweet and naïve, yet in the last six years had developed a reputation for finding rare alien creatures. True, Kiros hadn't liked talking to an avatar, but it wasn't unheard of to use such means to retain anonymity. Hell, all the soldiers answered to Solomon in public, confusing any would-be assassins. To each his own.

Kiros folded his arms across his chest and watched his confidant pace. "He's a good kid, Drys. I had a hand in raising him."

"Then why use the avatar with an old friend? And his voice? Manipulated. My brittle bones aren't happy. We're walking into a trap."

Kiros wondered the same thing. His welcome disturbed him. Then again, it was eleven years since Thomas Danvers's funeral. Kiros should have reached out to the kid, been there for him. Had he failed Thomas? Kiros rolled his shoulders, hoping to ease the burning tension. He expected the same-old Mick to greet him with a hero-worshipping smile like he used to. But the kid had hesitated in his responses, almost as if seeing Kiros scared him. On that, Drys was right to be suspicious.

They'd received Mick's beacon, and soon enough, Kiros would get to the bottom of this. "Have we set course to intersect his trajectory?"

Wyatt, their ace pilot, waved a hand instead of responding. Somewhere in his mass of dreadlocks were his earbuds playing yet another audiobook; his focus intense as he navigated the Sentry toward Fornax.

"Think the kid will split the payment?" Drys trailed Kiros to the mess.

"I don't see why not." He paused, his shoulders brushing the sides of the narrow passage. "Before you say anything more, he won't suspect the ruse. Like I said, naïve and sweet."

Drys grumbled under his breath. "His reputation is the perfect diversion. While he hunts for 'evidence,' we'll snatch a creature. The Followers are more than happy to pay double if the kid grabs a live sample too."

Kiros grinned. "If we find rare minerals, De Beer Mining will compensate us for our data. Overall, it's a lucrative project any way we look at it."

"Using the kid's ship is genius." Drys filled a cup with coffee-flavored sludge and poured in too much sweetener.

"I know, and our history won't raise suspicion either. It would be like old times when Thomas hired S.o.S for hostile excursions." Kiros bit into a protein bar and left the mess.

Drys's overactive instincts unsettled Kiros, and as he strolled to his quarters, he frowned. Something was off with Mick. Had he caught wind of S.o.S's other endeavors? Kiros shook his head. Impossible. The kid didn't run in the same circles. Drys's paranoia was rubbing off on Kiros.

His door slid across, and he slipped through the growing opening, too impatient to wait. As captain's cabins go, this one was bigger than a bunk but not by much. A rectangular prism seven feet by ten meant he could install a larger-than-normal bed to accommodate his height. Grooves in the metal crisscrossed a wall from which he could summon a small galley, a shower, a toilet, or a table with a chair. All slid out of sight at a push. A sterilizing aerated closet held his clothing and linen. This was a luxury he had earned from the sweat of his brow and the blood staining his hands.