Alex

ALEX

" W e have two aims in penetrating the dome," Gytha says to the team she has assembled. "One is to get to Sylas and to reunite him with his mate as well as get him weapons." She looks at me carefully. "After which you're on your own. A gladiator is too dangerous for us to deal with."

I shrug. At this stage, I don't care as long as I can get to him and get the limited help the resistance is offering. If I can get Sylas out, then there will be a transport waiting to take us anywhere we want to go, but none of them are prepared to get close to a gladiator Gryn with a mate. It seems everyone knows of Sylas…and the other gladiators.

It's not perfect, but it'll have to do.

"The second aim is to get to the control center and steal the codes for the defense system so we can remotely access their records," Gytha says to the others. "Do not risk being discovered doing this job. It's vitally important what we do remains entirely undiscovered until we get what we need."

The resistance wants evidence of wrongdoing in the council and the dome, as if that will somehow change anything in Tatatunga. However, they think it will and I'm not going to argue. After all I've seen and experienced on Trefa, anything which might change the status quo will be a good thing. Anything which stops scumbags like Ixor exploiting the lawlessness of this place will be good too.

"Come on," Haxrix says, tugging at my arm. "We need to get ready."

"Ready? What do you mean?" I follow her as she makes her way back into the maze of corridors in the resistance headquarters.

"We're going in the main entrance, with the customers, so we have to look the part." Haxrix grins at me. "Especially you."

"Why me?"

"You told us you've been inside, that you had a map of the dome, so you're going to be leading."

I feel my throat constrict. It seems like a lifetime ago I was haunting the dome, looking for the passes Ixor needed. I swallow hard, balling up my hands to hold back the swell of emotion within me.

I have to be strong. For Sylas and the life growing inside me, his child. Our child.

"I'll do my best, but I had a map."

"I'm sure you will." Haxrix replies simply.

She leads me into a side room which has a large box in the center.

"Stand there." She points to a spot next to the box. "And try not to move."

I furrow my brow but do what she says. The box whines and a green laser light stripes over me.

"What's it doing?" I say through a frozen face.

"You can move your lips." Haxrix laughs. "It's taking your measurements. Have you not seen a garment bot before?"

"Look, I was the slave to a Habosu, and before that, I was taken from a planet which hadn't even invented interstellar space travel, so a garment bot is probably one of the smaller surprises I've had."

"You're going to love it," the little Cirmos says. "Now get out of the way, it's my turn."

She gives me a playful shove to one side and stands in the laserfire herself. It's funny watching her attempting not to twitch her tail. When she's done, she presses a few symbols on the side of the bot, and it hums like it's about to explode.

I take a step back.

"Are you ready?" She grins at me, all pointed tabby teeth and green eyes dancing with mirth.

The bot side opens with a hiss, causing her fur to stand on end, and by the time I've finished laughing, it has yawned into a long rack filled with clothing.

Haxrix makes a noise which is very similar to an annoyed cat and then points to the far section.

"For you. Pick something you think your mate will love and we'd better get dressed. Gytha will be waiting." Haxrix dives into the clothing as I inspect what's been, I presume, made for me.

Most of it is pretty skimpy. I'm not entirely sure what Haxrix has programmed it for, but as I pull out dress after revealing dress, it looks like whatever I'm putting on, it won't be very much.

Eventually I plump for a magenta number, long and flowing, split to the thigh and very little else left to the imagination. As I pull it on, the thing tightens over my chest, holding my boobs in place which is impressive, given the girls often have a mind of their own. Next to me, a drawer opens, and a pair of matching shorts appears. These have a similar clamping effect to the dress, sucking everything in.

I can't say I feel comfortable, but as I check out my reflection in the vid screen on the side of the bot, I do look like I could fit in with some of the punters I saw milling around the entrance to the dome on my last visit, even if the thought of going in again makes my stomach churn.

"Ready?" Haxrix asks me.

She's wearing far more muted colors than me, dressed in a pair of pants and a comfortable looking jacket. Her tail waves gently from side to side.

"Hey! Why aren't you dressed like this?"

"Have you ever seen a Cirmos in a dress?" she retorts. I have to admit I have not. "This will get me in anywhere." She continues, "Wait and see."

Haxrix buckles on a set of plasma blasters under her coat and looks me up and down.

"Good choice. Plenty of space for what you're going to be carrying," she says, handing me a set of pistols and a couple of bands.

At her direction, I slide them up my thighs, where they draw in tight, and I snap the pistols to them. The flowing fabric actually hides the things from view.

Haxrix hands me a small black button. "This is to put the pistols into stealth. Press it and they'll be undetectable by any scanner."

"Really?"

"Probably," Haxrix purrs. "If not, run like a Jiaka who's just stolen from a Bognarok."