“They’re moving prisoners every half an hour.” Loka and Hoan had been studying the guards’ movements as the latest batch of prisoners arrived. There were six new aliens, most of them barely conscious as the cyborgs threw them into the cell before locking the door behind them.

“They must be working in rotation,” Hoan said, “going on the hunt for aliens or humans and bringing them back here.”

Loka checked the injuries of one unconscious alien. “And not taking the greatest of care when they find us.”

Hoan rubbed his stomach. “They’ve provided no food or water since we’ve been here. It must be coming up for a day now. I’d kill for a giant slab of Atarian mold bread and a gallon of Draxdan wine.”

Loka’s stomach agreed. “It shows they don’t care if the aliens live or die.” If they were treating Heather as badly, he would be having words. Words that ended with his horns impaling whoever harmed her or had allowed her to suffer.

His fingers went to the lump on the side of his head where the cyborg had knocked him out. Without nano-med patches to heal him, his head felt sore and tender. In his current state, he could barely protect himself. “We need reinforcements.”

Hoan glanced around the cell. “You think this lot will help?”

“They don’t want to be here anymore than we do.” Loka tilted his chin. “There are several Galaxars. They know how to fight.”

The cell contained thirty-five aliens. It was getting cramped, tensions were rising, and it stank like a space soccer after-party.

Hoan nodded. “Let’s see who’s willing to help us.”

Ignoring the pain in his side, Loka stood slowly. His gaze went from the Galaxars, who sat together, to the black-eyed, gray-skinned Koobs. There were two Retars, one out cold, and a group of Draxdans. They were the stars’ peacekeepers. They wouldn’t want to fight. He also noticed a single Forka. He’d made sure to keep him in his sights. Forka were ruthless, sneaky, and smart. Some called them the vampires of space—they drained you of everything of value, whether that was wealth, information, or sometimes your lifeblood.

If he could get them on side, it should be enough to take down the cyborg guards.

Loka cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. He was used to working on his own or with only Hoan by his side. Realizing he needed to influence a cell of wary strangers made him sweat. He was no diplomat.

Squashing his nerves, he cleared his throat again. “We need your help.”

Several of his cellmates glanced over. Most of them ignored him. Not a great start.

“We plan to leave this cell.”

“Good luck with that,” a Retar grunted. “In case you haven’t noticed, the cyborgs are attacking.”

“Under another’s command.” Loka focused on the Retar. He had a cut on his head that leaked blue blood down his scales.

A Galaxar lifted his head, the muscles bunching in his neck. “What do you know of this?”

Loka raised a hand to his horn. “Enough to believe that a disruptive code has been inserted into the station’s system. It’s influencing the cyborgs and forcing them to take us captive and separate the humans.”

“They haven’t gone rogue?” A blue-skinned Draxdan stood from the floor. One eye was closed and puffy from where he’d been beaten.

“That’s correct. They’re simply following orders,” Loka said. “It’s not the cyborgs that are the problem. It’s the Banti and the Vincole working together to control things.”

“Banti and Vincole! You’re telling me they’re behind this?” A Galaxar slammed his fist against the cell wall. “Never trust a Banti. They cheat and lie.”

“And they eat humans,” a Koob said. “But Vincoles?”

“They’re tech smart and sell their own mothers if it gets them what they want,” the Galaxar said.

Loka nodded, sensing a change in interest. “If we get past the cyborgs and reach the aliens controlling this, we can stop them. We’ve identified the rogue code they’ve implanted in the system. We need to remove it. Then order will be restored.”

“Sounds simple,” the Retar muttered. “How are you planning to do that without getting your head stamped on again?”

Loka touched the swelling on the side of his head. “With your help.”

Several aliens grumbled under their breaths. Most didn’t look enthusiastic.

A Koob nodded at Loka and smiled encouragingly. “Tell us your plan.”

“The cyborgs are bringing new aliens into the cell every half an hour,” Loka said. “If we time it correctly, we can be ready for their next visit.”

“Jump the cyborgs. That’s your genius plan?” The Retar rolled his shoulders and slumped against the wall. “I thought Picars were smart. You look like you’ve gone a few rounds with the cyborgs already. You didn’t beat them that time.”

Loka frowned. “I was not prepared. We were outnumbered.”

“It looks like you did no better in your own fight,” Hoan said to the Retar.

The Retar looked away, his shoulders slumped further, and his elbows rested on his knees. “We can’t beat the cyborgs.”

“Ignore our pessimistic friend,” the Koob sitting on the floor said. “This could work.”

“Every enemy has a weakness,” Loka said.

“What would you know about that?” the Galaxar who’d slammed a fist into the wall asked. “I recognize you. You’re the science expert mapping this galaxy. You spend your time staring down a microscope. You’re not a fighter.”

Loka stood up straight. “I am when I have something to fight for.”

“I overheard you earlier, talking about Heather.” The Koob sitting by the door stood and moved closer. “If you mean Heather Roberts, I know her. She works at My Single Alien.”

Loka nodded. “That’s right.”

“Hold on. You’re talking about that Heather?” The Galaxar also stood and walked over. He held one arm carefully against his chest.

“You also know her?”

“Sure. Heather’s great.”

Jealousy shredded through Loka. “I agree.”

The Galaxar relaxed and smiled. “Not like that. She’s a cute little human, not fiery enough for me, but smart and funny.”

Loka didn’t find that at all reassuring. Did he have a rival in this Galaxar?

The Koob smiled. “I’m Aho. I run the station’s general store. Heather is a great customer and a nice human. She always buys from any new range of candy when I have it in store.”

Loka had to smile. “She has a sweet tooth. Heather often has candy in her office.”

“She is your mate?” Aho asked. “I did not realize Heather was looking. She is not supposed to find a mate.”

“How do you know that?”

Aho looked down. “Well, when I first started running the station’s store, I might have asked her out.”

Loka found himself growling under his breath. He did have a rival. It was not the bronzed, muscle-bound Galaxar but the black-eyed Koob.

Aho raised his hands in supplication as if sensing Loka’s anger. “Heather very sweetly turned me down. She told me her job kept her too busy to have a romantic life. She is saving for something big and can’t afford to be distracted by love.”

Loka shared a knowing look with Hoan. That had been his argument. Heather was too busy for him. She was too busy to find love with him. Loka realized he didn’t care. He still wanted Heather in his life. Even if he had to wait, he would do so. Heather was a woman worth waiting for.

“Do you really think we can get out of this cell?” A Draxdan walked over. “I’m about ready to chew my own arm off if I don’t get something to eat soon.”

“You will fight with us?” Loka had not expected a Draxdan to be interested in conflict.

The Draxdan smiled and extended a hand. “I’m Blian. We might be known as the stars’ peacemakers, but push us too far, and we are happy to break a few heads. And when I’m hungry, I’m not pleasant to be around.”

“That is so true,” another Draxdan said. “Blian needs topping up every few hours, or he turns into a complaining asshole.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

“No one likes a complaining asshole. We need to get out of here and get your friend a meal,” Loka said.

Blian grunted and then nodded. “I claim the badge of a hungry alien asshole. I’ll let my hunger fuel my rage.”

“The Banti and Vincole have no interest in us,” Loka said. “They’re here for one thing only, to take the humans.”

This comment got several more aliens involved. It seemed Loka wasn’t the only one with an interest in the humans. They formed a loose semicircle around Loka and Hoan.

The Galaxar extended his uninjured arm and fist bumped Loka. “I’m Padam. They cannot take the humans.”

“You have a mate here?”

“No, my friend does. I’ve been tasked with keeping an eye on her when the boss is away on business. Solan left two weeks ago. He has no idea what’s going on. If he did, he’d take the first flight back and destroy the place and any Banti or Vincole who stood in his way.”

Loka recalled seeing pictures of a huge Galaxar sitting on a desk in Heather’s office. “Do you mean Vegas?”

Padam smiled. “That’s right. Heather is Vegas’s best friend. Solan and Vegas have been mated for months.” His smile faded. “If Vegas is in trouble, then I must ensure her safety. Solan will string me up if I fail him. I took my eyes off her for five minutes to chat with a charming human. The next thing I knew, cyborgs were attacking.”

Loka looked down at Padam’s damaged arm. “You don’t look like you’re in much of a position to fight.”

“I have one arm that works. That’s all I need.”

Loka knew the warrior reputation of Galaxars. This Galaxar would be strong in a fight, broken arm or not. He looked around at the group. They were in a bad way. Most had bloody faces or held their sides, suggesting they’d been kicked or punched. At least their injuries showed they did fight and were willing to do so now.

“The cyborg guards will be here in a few minutes,” Hoan said. “We overpower them and get out of here.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” the Retar asked.

“There’s enough of us to take them down,” Loka said.

“That won’t work.”

“I’ve disabled cyborgs with my horns,” Loka said. “They are not indestructible.”

Padam clapped him on the shoulder. “Nice work. I was admiring your horns. I wouldn’t mind a pair myself.”

Loka smirked. “You have enough advantages in a fight.” Galaxars’ genetic modifications made them superior fighting machines. “Although maybe not when you get distracted by a good looking female.”

Padam laughed. “Too true. You can remove a cyborg’s limbs. I’ve seen Solan do it. You yank and twist, and the sparks go flying. There are enough of us here to do that. We can take them.”

Loka looked around the group again. “Is everybody with me?”

There were enough nods to convince him.

“Anyone with natural weapons at the front.” Loka pointed at his horns and flashed his claws. “You don’t want to hurt anybody other than the cyborgs. Everybody else forms two lines behind us. Those least injured go behind me and everyone else behind them. Get the unconscious ones to the back, so they don’t get trampled.”

The aliens moved into action, shifting bodies before joining the waiting battle party.

Loka was joined at the front of the group by the injured Galaxar, who shrugged and smiled. “I can never resist a battle, even when I’m a little disadvantaged.”

Loka decided not to comment on Padam’s broken arm being more than a little disadvantage. He was joined by Hoan, the rest of the Galaxars, and was surprised to see the Forka join them.

“You’re fighting?”

The Forka’s murky dark eyes slid to him, the irises rimmed with red. “I fight for myself. I have unfinished business on this station.”

“Typical Forka,” Hoan muttered, “out for themselves.”

“Be careful what you say.” The Forka flicked Hoan’s horn. “I’ve always fancied a pair of your horns mounted on my wall.”

“Just try it, vampire.”

Loka touched Hoan’s elbow. “Everyone stick to the plan. Aim for the cyborgs only.” His gaze cut to the Forka. “No exceptions.”

The Forka bowed his head.

Loka turned to face the waiting group. “We divide into two groups. Each group focus on a cyborg. I’ll take the group on the left. Hoan here will lead the other group. We take out their weapons first, then get them on the ground and out of action.”

“We rip them apart,” Padam said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Do your worst,” Loka said. “I need to get out of here in one piece to save my female.”

Several of his cellmates chuckled and nudged each other. Loka didn’t care what they thought. He had a reason to get out without being too badly injured. Heather was out there somewhere, and he had to get her back safely.

The tension in the cell continued to creep up as the minutes ticked by. Nobody spoke. They simply waited, all facing the door, ready for when it opened.

“Here they come,” Hoan muttered.

Loka glanced over his shoulder. “Everybody ready. We get one chance at this.” They’d be at a disadvantage trying to cram through the door to reach the cyborgs. Loka planned on spearing the cyborg with his horns and getting him out of the way, so the others could attack.

He glanced at Hoan, who nodded and tapped his horns.

Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the door locks clicked open.

The faces of three bloody, startled aliens stood in front of Loka.

“Get out of the way.” Loka charged, his head down, hearing the startled gasps of the new prisoners as they leaped to the side to avoid being impaled.

Loka’s hands clamped over the cold metal of the cyborg’s wrist, preventing it from raising the laser it held. Loka’s horns speared through the cyborg’s chest with a satisfying crunch as they smashed back against the wall.

Several bodies slammed into him as the other aliens joined in. He heard the laser clatter to the ground as the cyborg lost its grip, but he kept hold of the cyborg’s arm in case it tried to crush him or someone else.

Punches and kicks flew through the air, some landing too close to Loka.

He yanked his head back. He couldn’t move. His horn was stuck. With the force of his blow, it had speared through the cyborg into the wall behind it. Loka was pinned to the cyborg as it fought back against the flurry of attack from the others.

Shaking his head, Loka tried to dislodge himself from the cyborg. Somebody punched him in the back.

“Watch it,” he yelled, trying to get out of the way.

A kick connected with his thigh, and Loka grunted in pain.

“Need some assistance?” The Forka was by his side, a blade in his hand.

Loka tensed. Was this nightmare of an alien going to kick him when he was down? “My horn. It’s stuck.”

The Forka smiled. “I did say I wanted some Picar horns.”

“There’s not a chance you’re having mine.” Loka’s gaze remained on the Forka’s knife as he writhed against the cyborg.

The Forka shrugged. He slid the knife behind the cyborg and began to cut.

Loka felt pressure on his horn. He twisted his head.

“Hold still.” The Forka’s eyes flashed red.

Gritting his teeth, Loka braced against the bucking cyborg. Its arms and legs were being yanked in opposite directions by other fighters.

“Almost there.”

Loka felt his horn loosen. He pulled free, wiring and sparks flying out of the cyborg as he did so.

The Forka jumped back, a sliver of Loka’s horn in his hand. He admired it for a second before pocketing it, along with the knife. “Not quite what I had in mind, but it’s a start.”

Loka nodded. “Thanks. What’s your name?”

“Karn. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” With a brief bow, he slipped away from the fight.

A hand clamped around Loka’s shoulder. He was yanked back so hard he hit the opposite wall.

Padam stood in front of him. “Is everything okay? I saw the Forka hovering with his knife.”

Loka’s hand went to his shaved horn. It had been a sacrifice worth making. The cyborg was on the ground, both arms gone, and it had stopped moving. He nodded.

Padam looked at the cyborg. “We did it.”

Loka sucked in a breath. His horn ached. It felt like it had been half twisted off. He couldn’t worry about that.

Focusing on the other group, he was relieved to see the cyborg on the ground. It was also still and lifeless.

He strode over and caught hold of Hoan’s shoulder.

Hoan spun around, battle lust in his eyes. It faded as he lowered his fist and saw Loka.

“That’s enough, my friend. We have defeated them.” Loka was already moving away. “Let’s find Heather.”

Hoan looked around at the group of aliens who were enjoying themselves as they destroyed what was left of the cyborgs. He stamped on a loose cyborg hand that hit his foot.

Loka led the way from the fight. He’d gotten the aliens free from captivity. They’d demonstrated they were big enough to look after themselves. It would also be easier to protect themselves, now they knew who their enemy was.

“When we were taken, our captors said they were taking Heather to a holding cell. She will be around here somewhere.” Loka stopped by a locked cell door.

Hoan waved his hand over the access panel. The light remained red. “It must only open for certain crew members on the station.”

Loka examined the panel. He used his claws to pry it off, revealing the cabling and power behind it. He glanced at Hoan. “If I sever this, it should get the door open.”

Hoan looked along the corridor. “You’d better hurry. There are plenty more cells. I bet they’re all full of prisoners.”

Loka dragged his claws through the cables, gritting his teeth at the surge of power sliding through his veins.

The light died on the panel, and the door slid open. A dozen wide-eyed aliens were inside. Most of them injured and bruised.

After checking Heather wasn’t with them, Loka gestured for them to leave. “Get out of here while you can. Reinforcements will be here soon. Find a safe place and arm yourselves.”

The aliens needed no prompting as they fled from the cell.

Loka and Hoan discovered three more cells full of aliens. They released them all.

Worry gnawed at Loka’s stomach. “Where are the humans?” The Banti couldn’t have taken Heather already. Was he too late to find her?

“This cell is empty of prisoners.” Hoan was investigating the next cell.

Loka tilted his head as he joined him by the open door. “It looks like they had the same idea as us.” Two disabled cyborgs were flat on their backs inside the cell.

Hoan inched closer. “They’re barely damaged. Maybe they malfunctioned?”

Loka peered down at the cyborgs. “Somebody put up a fight in here.” There were several smears of blood on the floor. He scraped his claws down his horns. Had Heather been in here? Was that her blood he was staring at?

“What’s going on in here?” A black-clad Banti appeared in the doorway.

Loka charged without thinking, his head down. His horns slammed straight through the alien’s middle.

The Banti gave a single gurgle before dying.

“Wow!” Hoan patted Loka’s shoulder as he stepped back. The Banti slid to the floor. “Maybe there is some warrior in you after all.”

Loka shook his head. His ears rang from the impact with the Banti. “If there is, I don’t want it.”

Hoan grinned. “The things we do for love.”

Loka rubbed his throbbing horns. “Agreed. Let’s go find Heather.”