Back at the helm of a starship, wheeling and dealing for all he was worth, Dagus only had to keep this ragtag band alive until his old friends Tenset, Connor and Chesara could gallop to the rescue. It all sounded remarkably simple, if you didn’t add in certain complications.
Firstly, he and his mate group were still the property of a garian who was quite clear that she only needed him and Azrica for her illegal activities. All the sentient lizard had to do was touch the control device on her arm to turn one of them into an instant snack. Even more disturbing was that the threat of imminent death didn’t appear to bother Hal in the least. The ex-gladiator killed without thought and behaved like a hormone driven teenager rather than a rational adult. Azrica wasn’t far behind Hal as she was slowly driven mad by the permanent, unwanted passenger in her mind.
The minor problems of being hunted by the Garian Empire, the Federation and some of the most wanted outlaws in the galaxy paled into insignificance compare to forging this group into a working unit, but Dagus had always been a gambling man, and although the odds were against him, a slim chance was better than none.