“Why the hell is it chasing us?” I growled and shouldered aside a swinging door. Moving through the cafeteria. The troll bounced loudly into the wall. The structure around the single swinging door cracked. Then the troll barged through it sending the door skidding across the room towards us.

I turned right and ran, moving behind a table. The troll saw that anything that got between it and its target as a mere nuisance. So tables and metals chair were crushed and torn away to be thrown either at us or at a wall.

“Its after me,” the assassin said calmly in my arms as I carried her. She was indeed a beauty, with a slender, slight hourglass figure. Her words almost made me consider dropping her and making a run for it.

God my head hurt fiercely.

“What do you mean its after you?” I asked her and barged through the exit of the cafeteria and out into another corridor.

“Trolls have a … urge … for females of any kind. No matter their size or race.”

“So the fucker just wants to get his hands on you, to rape you?” I questioned and panted. Damn, I feel old.

“Yes. And likely to impregnate me as well,” her statement was so matter of fact that it could possibly be mistaken for willingness.

“Okay. Evidence locker is coming up. Is the troll directly behind us?”

“Yes. About forty metres. He had some trouble with exiting the wall on this side.”

“Hang on,” I grunted and swivelled right to burst into another room. Through that and out the other side. Then through another door, past a series of armed praetorians and out into a corridor. I took several steps to our right and kicked the evidence door open. Noting that it wasn’t at all locked up.

It was as if this entire section of the building had no power. Or all access had been granted.

“Do you see your gear?” I asked the sprite as I gently set her down on her feet. She pulled her rags around her and scanned the room.

Gunshots sounded close by and nearly shit myself from fright. I hadn’t seen combat other than my little fight with the assassin in many years.

The amount of times I’d shit myself fighting the orc invasion on Minis were uncountable. Luckily I hadn’t been the only one. I remember Hazard saying the best way to not shit yourself was to eat your own hand and vomit it out instead.

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Which was usually done by a few of us, after we had shit ourselves. It was the fear. I felt it thickly now as I had done then. How Marcus could go from that terrible shitshow that was the High Orc invasion to mercenary work, baffled me. I needed a desk and some normalcy. Paperwork and nobility were my opponents now.

God I miss my wife.

She had her head screwed on right. Refusing to not join me in this pit of vipers. The fire sprite wobbled over to a rack which held a black, white and orange suit. Thin crystal tubes ran over the surface of the suit. It held zero defense purposes, but seemed more applicable towards heat regulation and management.

Two twin swords hung beside it, though one was a smaller blade than the other. The orange edge of the swords reminded me that she had ignited them during our brief encounter.

I shook my head and glanced down at my pistol. I had definitely been lucky with my shots. I heard the gunshots sound again, further away this time. The thought that the praetorians had drawn the troll away from us comforted me, as it did make me sick. They were my people after all. I was a commanding officer. Yet I was also breaking a prisoner free.

Fuck it. Something smelled fishy, well more fishy than usual given Zarian politics. I didn’t plan on being the bait on this hook. Instead I needed to reel in my own catch.

The fringe territory between Zaria and Yashrin was key to something. I needed to get in contact with Marcus. But not here.

Possibly take my own ship out there and see.

“I’m ready,” the fire sprite said, and I looked at her and blinked as the crystalline tubes running along her suit flooded with fire.

She breathed in deeply, and I saw the collar of her suit glow an orange and red light.

“Better,” she said pre-empting my question.

“I see no signs of my cowl, but no matter. I do not need it to fight,” the fire sprite flicked her sword’s and slid them through the scabbards on her back and waist.

Her bright green eyes, burned an inner gleam. As her pink bubble-gum hair wavered as if blowing in an unseen current of wind.

She looked deathly beautiful.

“We need to find a ship,” I told her. And the assassin nodded her understanding.

“Are there any landing bays nearby?” she asked me, and I nodded as she started for the door.

“Yes. We’ll need to go to the surface level to get there though,” I informed her.

“Okay you take lead--” She was cut off as the door opened and she halted before a hulking figure.

The troll had been stood right outside.

“You will find no prey here, Faen hound,” the assassin said coldly to the troll. It roared in her face. And I watched in shock as the blade on her hip unsheathed and swept through the neck of the troll, leaving a faint trail of fire in it wake as it passed through.

Then the assassin stepped backwards as the head topple off the corpse.

“Fire Sprite’s were used in the culling of their kind long ago,” she informed me and idly stepped around the dead troll. “Now let’s go find that ship, so we can make our escape.”

“Your mistress better have some good information for me,” I told her back.

“And what could you possibly do, if she didn’t?” Well shit, she had a good point. I rubbed at my temples and followed after her.

This novel is the work of Rhys Thomas. If you are reading this and it has not been published by Rhys Thomas, then this work has been stolen. Please report this to Amazon and me at email: [email protected]