Drelix

"The Habosu did what?" Sylas snarls.

When he's not a brooding nevver, he's usually up for a fight, which is one of the reasons we ended up as allies.

Blayn adds to the snarls, although they're tempered by the chewing and probably by the fact he's not exactly paying attention. I suppose someone has to eat the food, and as much as my mate requires sustenance, there's enough here to feed her tiny form for probably an entire year.

Blayn on the other hand is another matter. I'm going to give it ten nova-minutes before he's done.

"They believe they can control Sarkarnii, and we're needed for some sort of security contract. Most likely organized by the Belek."

"But you got what you needed from the Kirakos?" Sylas asks.

"We did, and the place is no longer a prison."

The pair of Gryn huff. Both of them are well acquainted with the prison maze, Sylas more than Blayn, but neither will ever want to return.

"However, the Habosu can wait. There is a contact here, a Uhatx called Phxt who may know more about the end of Kaeh-Leks."

Sylas looks over at Blayn who meets his gaze, and shrugs.

"The Uhxt is a trader who frequents the dome, I've seen him around, he spends big and gambles hard," Sylas growls, brow pulled low in his usual brooding manner. "I'm with you, Drelix, whatever you need."

"I will always owe you, my friend." I grip his arm. "I need to speak with the trader and I don't have much time. The Habosu will be coming for me. A lone Sarkarnii is a target, a dangerous one, of course,"—I give him a fanged grin—"but a target nonetheless."

"Bitten off more than they can chew," Blayn says suddenly through a mouthful, and then his wings flare widely, a snarl coming from his lips as Crystal bursts from the bedroom, carrying an effigy of the Cxks goddess high above her head.

Sylas flares his wings, the feathers rustling as both Gryn stare at the vision which is my mate. She's dressed in the finest fabrics which set off her flaming hair and golden complexion, regardless of the fact she is wielding the statue like a female possessed.

"Who the hell are they?" Crystal demands, glaring at the Gryn who are looking her over with interested bemusement.

I step between her and the Gryn with a low growl.

"Sylas and Blayn. They're Gryn gladiators from the arena and old friends of mine."

"You have participants of the games in your hotel room?" she says, lifting the sculpture higher.

"They're…mostly harmless," I say with a leveled glare at the two Gryn.

Blayn is so fluffed up he looks like he's about to explode, and Sylas's dark expression hasn't softened enough for him to look like anything other than the stone cold killer he is.

Crystal doesn't move. The Gryn don't move. I'm not moving unless it's to get closer to her. We're at an impasse.

"Did he"—Crystal relinquishes her double-handed hold on the effigy to point at Blayn—"eat all the golbanu?"

She means the little fluffy sweet treats. I look at the groaning table of food and sure enough, there are none left.

Blayn, for all his scarred face and fearsome experience, actually manages to look contrite, which is not an emotion I'd normally expect from him.

"Sorry, mistress," he says, looking down at the table.

But contrition is forgotten as soon as he sees the food again. Crystal watches in amazement as he goes back to guzzling.

"You'd have thought we never get fed," Sylas sighs. "My apologies, mistress. We did not mean to frighten you."

Crystal fortunately lowers the statue and places it on a nearby shelf.

"Yeah, well, I've had my fair share of surprises in the last few days." She gives me a knowing look. "So, are you going to help Drelix in his search for revenge?"

I inhale deeply as she joins my side.

"His revenge is ours," Sylas says darkly.

"The Gryn were…farmed." I wince at the expression, but there is no other. "By what I believe is the same species who sent the Liderc to our planet and assisted them in planetary genocide."

Sylas looks at his claws and then up at Crystal. "What your mate says is the truth. We may be indentured to Tatatunga, but it doesn't mean we can't exact a price for what has been done to us."

He gives Crystal a low bow, his wings sweeping out behind him. He fires out an arm and grabs Blayn by the shoulder of one of his wings, and the eating machine makes a strangled sound as he's dragged back to reality.

"At the dome then, Drelix," Sylas says. "I can arrange for your meeting with Phxt. He enjoys an evening at the games and is most likely to have taken his usual private suite for the pre-games."

I give him a short bow, not taking my eyes from the pair. "At the dome."

He shoves Blayn in front of him as they exit, and I get the chance to engage the locks, so we don't get any more unannounced visitors.

"Gryn?" Crystal sits down at the table, eyeing what remains after Blayn has been at it. "I don't think I've ever seen their species before, and most have been through the station."

"You won't have come across them. Gryn are even rarer than Sarkarnii," I say with a sigh. "They are a fractured species. The only ones I've met are the gladiators here. From what Sylas has told me, he and others were kept and trained as security, mercenaries, assassins, or fighters in the various arenas, domes, and coliseums which fill the dirtier corners of the galaxy. There was an uprising. Sylas lost."

"Fuck," Crystal says. "That's terrible. As much as I don't want to return to Earth, this sort of treatment of one species by another…" her voice tails off, hollow with sadness.

"It's what I'm trying to do, change things. If I can find out who was behind both the enslavement of the Gryn and the destruction of the Sarkarnii…maybe it can be stopped."

For the first time, in the presence of my mate, I can see clearly. I can see the future, and it's not about revenge.

It's about taking back control. It's about having a mate to protect, rut, and fill.

It's about the galaxy being safe to do all those things, not just for the Sarkarnii, but for all those at risk.