Samira

SAMIRA

I hunched over the lab bench, my fingers dancing across the holographic interface as I input the latest data from my experiments. The small, converted lab hummed with the quiet buzz of equipment, the air thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and the earthy musk of the Ocakian fungus.

Dr. Zhen’la’s insectoid form loomed in my mind, his mandibles clicking with excitement as he’d explained his theory. “The Ocakian enzymes will be the key, . They’ll allow the compound to slip past neural defenses like a thief in the night.”

I’d nodded, not daring to question his enthusiasm. But now, as I stared at the results flickering before me, my heart sank. The fungal enzymes weren’t bypassing neural defenses - they were devouring the mind-control drug itself.

I zoomed in on the molecular structure, watching in dismay as the key components broke down in real-time. The resulting substance was a viscous, almost acidic gel that bubbled ominously in its containment field.

“Shit,” I muttered. This failure would infuriate Zhen’la, but there was no way to hide it. The thought of deceiving him terrified me. Would he take his anger out on me, or on Arkon?

With a deep breath, I began preparing a detailed report, explaining the chemical breakdown and its implications. As an afterthought, I filled a small vial with the Ocakian gel. It might prove useful, somehow. Stranger things have come out of failed lab experiments.

Report in hand, I walked towards Zhen’la’s office. The converted building was a maze of sterile corridors, my footsteps echoing in the emptiness. As I approached his door, voices drifted out, making me pause.

“...haven’t been able to reach Mednax in weeks,” Zhen’la was saying, his tone uncharacteristically anxious. “Have you heard from him, Kreshnar?”

A deep, rumbling voice responded - one I didn’t recognize. “Mednax is dead, Zhen’la. Assassinated in the recent power struggles.”

I pressed myself against the wall, hardly daring to breathe.

Zhen’la made a strangled sound. “Dead? But... who’s overseeing the project now?”

“I am,” Kreshnar said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “And I must say, I’m less than impressed with your progress. The failure on Kervant-9 was... unfortunate.”

“We had setbacks, yes, but-”

“Setbacks?” Kreshnar interrupted. “Your entire mind-control program is flawed, Zhen’la. The Consortium is reconsidering its position on such... heavy-handed methods. I just need you to make one mistake, and it’s over.”

A whirlwind of thoughts tore through my mind, impossible to control. A power shift in the Consortium? This could change everything - for me, for Arkon, for our chances of escape.

I heard movement inside the office and quickly retreated, my heart pounding. Back in the lab, I set down the report and gripped the edge of the bench, processing what I’d overheard.

If Kreshnar opposed the mind-control program, could he help us? Or was he just another predator, waiting to strike? I thought of Arkon, forced to fight in the arena while I worked in this sterile prison. We needed a way out, and fast.

I busied myself with tidying the lab, mind whirling with possibilities. Hours later, as I headed back to my quarters, a stocky figure rounded the corner. Kreshnar.

As we collided, I stumbled, “accidentally” falling against him.

“I’m so sorry,” I gasped, steadying myself. His large, pointed ears swiveled towards me, catching every sound.

As he helped me up, I leaned in close, my lips barely moving. “I can help you.”

Kreshnar’s ear flicked, almost imperceptibly. A twitch ran through his tail. Without a word, he strode past me, leaving me alone in the corridor.

Back in the lab, I pulled up the supply manifests, cross-referencing them with my own notes. If I could prove Zhen’la was siphoning resources, it might give me leverage with Kreshnar.

As I worked, my thoughts drifted to Arkon. Was he safe? The image of his powerful body, battered and bloodied in the arena, made my chest ache. I clenched my fists, determination surging through me.

I paced the barren room, my footsteps echoing off the cold metal walls. No windows, no tablet, nothing to connect me to the outside world. My mind whirled, chasing after answers that slipped just out of reach, replaying the day’s events, searching for any advantage I might have missed.

The sudden hiss of the door sliding open made me jump. My pulse picked up as I spun around, expecting Dr. Zhen’la’s insectoid form. Instead, Kreshnar faced me.

The Naravex’s metallic fur caught the harsh overhead light as he stepped into the room.

“You said you could help me,” Kreshnar said, his markings pulsing with curiosity. “I’m intrigued to hear how a human slave thinks she has anything I might need.”

I bristled at his words. “I’m not a slave.”

“No?” Kreshnar’s feline features twisted into something like amusement. “Then why are you here?”

I took a moment, steadying myself. “Zhen’la is holding my mate hostage. Arkon. He’s forcing him to fight in the arena.”

“Ah, yes. The Vinduthi. He’s quite the crowd-pleaser.” Kreshnar’s ears flicked. “But that doesn’t explain what you think you can offer me.”

I met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. “I have proof that Zhen’la has been skimming funds from the Consortium. Detailed records of his embezzlement.”

Kreshnar’s markings flashed with interest. “And what do you want in exchange for this... information?”

“Freedom,” I said without hesitation. “For both of us. Arkon and me.”

Kreshnar’s features twisted into a smirk that sent a chill down my spine.

“Oh, little human,” he purred, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the room. “You’re playing a dangerous game. What you have better be something truly extraordinary. Otherwise...” He trailed off, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

The tips of my fingers tingled, as if my body was preparing to flee and the frantic thumping of my heart sent tremors through my veins, but I refused to let him see my fear. Everything hinged on this moment - my freedom, Arkon’s life, our future together. I couldn’t falter now.

I hated trusting him. Every instinct screamed that this was a mistake. But what choice did I have? I reached into my pocket and pulled out the datachip I’d compiled earlier.

“Everything’s here,” I said, holding it out. “Financial records, shipping manifests, all of it.”

Kreshnar took the chip with one of his six-fingered hands. “I’ll have to verify this. If it’s genuine, you’ll have your freedom soon.”

As he turned to leave, I called out, “Wait! Arkon... he’s fighting again tomorrow. You have to get him out of there.”

Kreshnar paused at the door. “One step at a time, human. One step at a time.”

The door slid shut behind him, leaving me alone once more. I sank onto the bed, my legs suddenly weak. I’d done it. I’d made a deal with yet another devil. But if it meant saving Arkon, I’d do it a thousand times over.

I closed my eyes, picturing Arkon’s face. His red eyes, so fierce in battle, yet so gentle when they looked at me. The curve of his horns, the sharp points of his canines. I had to believe this would work. I had to believe we’d be together again soon.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.