31. Maar

CHAPTER 31

MAAR

F our months of searching and finally I've come where I started.

I'm looking at a seedy bar on the planet Gur.

The neon sign flickers, casting an eerie glow on the grimy street. I push open the door, the familiar stench of cheap booze and desperation hitting me like a punch to the gut. Four months of chasing shadows, and here I am, right back where it all began.

The bar's packed to the brim, but I spot them instantly. Numerian Fist goons, laughing it up like they own the place, their garish uniforms a stark contrast to the dingy surroundings. My fingers twitch, itching for action, the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," a gravelly voice sneers from the corner. It's Jax, Kraz Vorn's right-hand man, his scarred face twisted into a mocking grin. He's nursing a glass of something that looks strong enough to strip paint.

I smile, all teeth, feeling the familiar mask of the tough Vakutan warrior slip into place. "Miss me, boys? I know it's been lonely without me around to keep you in line."

"You've got some nerve showing your face here, Maar," another thug growls, rising from his seat. His meaty hand reaches for the blaster at his hip, but I don't flinch. I've faced worse odds before.

"Funny, I was thinking the same about you ugly mugs," I retort, my eyes scanning the room for potential escape routes or makeshift weapons. "Didn't think this dump could get any more repulsive, but you've managed to prove me wrong."

I duck under the first punch, feeling the rush of air as it whizzes past my ear. In one fluid motion, I sweep my leg out, catching the goon off-guard. He goes down hard, crashing into a nearby table with a satisfying crunch. Glass shatters, raining down on the grimy floor, and patrons scatter like startled prey, their drinks forgotten in their haste to escape the imminent brawl.

"Come on, fellas. Don't make this too easy for me," I taunt, a smirk playing on my lips as I beckon them with a crooked finger. My Vakutan warrior training kicks in, adrenaline surging through my veins. This is what I live for.

They charge at me like rabid dogs, all snarling faces and flailing limbs. I meet them head-on, relishing the familiar dance of violence. My fists connect with flesh and bone, each impact sending shockwaves up my arms. Blood sprays as I break one nose, then another, the sickening crunch music to my ears. I can taste the metallic tang in the air, feel the warm splatter on my skin.

A glint of metal catches my eye - a knife flashing in the dim, smoky light of the bar. But I'm ready for it. I grab the wielder's wrist mid-strike, twisting it with practiced precision until I hear a satisfying crack. The man howls in pain, his weapon clattering uselessly to the floor.

"You're dead, Maar!" Jax roars, his face contorted with rage as he pulls out a blaster. The sight of the weapon doesn't faze me; I've stared down the barrel of far worse in my time. My mind races, calculating my next move. This fight is far from over, and I'm just getting warmed up.

I dive behind the bar as energy bolts sizzle past my head, the acrid smell of scorched air filling my nostrils. "That the best you got?" I shout, my voice dripping with disdain. I grab a bottle of expensive Odex whiskey and hurl it at Jax. It explodes against his face in a shower of amber liquid and glass shards, and he howls in pain, clawing at his eyes.

Seizing the moment, I vault over the bar, my heavy combat boot connecting with his jaw with a satisfying crunch. He goes down hard, sprawling across the filthy floor. Two more of his goons rush me, but I'm ready for them. I grab one by the throat, my fingers digging into his flesh as I use him as a human shield. His buddy, panicking, opens fire. The poor bastard jerks and goes limp in my grasp as the energy bolts meant for me tear through his body. I can feel the heat of them singeing my skin, but I don't flinch. This is child's play compared to what I've been through on Gur.

"Oops. Friendly fire's a bitch, ain't it?" I laugh, tossing the corpse aside.

The last goon standing looks at me, terror in his eyes. "Please... I got kids..."

I pause, considering. "Run. Tell Kraz Vorn I'm coming for him. And if he's smart, he'll face me himself instead of sending more cannon fodder."

He doesn't need to be told twice. He bolts, leaving his groaning comrades behind.

I survey the carnage, wiping blood from my knuckles. "Anyone else want to play?"

Silence greets me. I nod, satisfied, and step over the bodies littering the floor. The hunt continues, but Kraz Vorn's days are numbered. And when I find him, I'll make sure he regrets ever wanting to harm Alyssa.