Forged (Star Breed #10) - Elin Wyn Page 0,42

held, as well.

“Looks like we might have a possible weak spot over in section 12.” I tapped the 3D model of the ship the command console had placed in the air between us to enlarge it, and spun it around. “Wouldn’t be much to reinforce the area if they’ve got reasonable tools on board.”

Yasmin nodded. “This sort of exploration vessel would almost need to have a full kit. They wouldn’t usually head back home for months, maybe even years.”

“Let’s check that panel on the outside,” I decided. “I want to see if it’s one of the ones that took the scorch damage, give us an idea of what we’re working with.”

But when I opened the exterior hatch, a new set of priorities became urgent.

“Void.”

“Are those…” Yasmin asked as she peered around my side.

“Yep. Same tracks that were around the trench back in the desert.” I scanned the area, but nothing was moving. “Either there’s more than one of those things, or it’s followed us. And I’m not sure which of those options I like the least.”

Chest tight, I darted back into the ship and grabbed the spear.

“Aren’t there any other weapons on this thing?” I asked Yasmin before going back outside.

She shook her head, braid flying. “The inventory logs show that there were two heavy-grade blasters. But they’re both missing.”

Lovely.

I stepped out again, bent low to the ground, and sniffed one of the tracks. It smelled like sour fruit, mixed with something I couldn’t place, something I’d never run into before.

“Stay inside until I check it out,” I said. “I want to make sure whatever this thing is, that it’s long gone.”

“Hakon!” Yasmin shouted. “Watch out!”

Suddenly I was flattened, face-down on the ground.

Pushing up, I twisted at the hip, pulling my legs out to strike out with both feet to shake my opponent off me.

But it had already sprung a safe distance away, giving me time to study it, look for weaknesses.

Standing before me was a purple and blue spotted thing.

A long, curved neck led to a round, bulbous head.

A heavy body ended in six stubby legs. It was as tall as I was, but so dense, I thought I’d have its footprints on my back for weeks.

It bounced back-and-forth, thick tail thrashing the ground as it prepared to attack again.

I crouched, ready to launch the spear.

“Stop!” Yasmin yelled frantically. “It’s friendly!”

“It’s what?”

“I think it’s playing with you,” she continued, slowly stepping out from the ship.

“Get back to safety,” I shouted, trying to keep her and the creature in view. Would it renew its onslaught if I moved between them?

But she ignored me, approaching the monster with her hands outstretched.

“You just want to say hi, don’t you?” she said in a soothing voice.

It bounced on those slightly bowed legs again, head whipping towards her, then lowering to the ground and up again.

“Yes, you do,” she crooned. “Such a good boy.” In the same singsong voice, she said “Way back when we were kids, our father got a pair of puppies for Luca and me. Well, droids really. But they’d been programmed with all of a natural dog’s characteristics and behaviors.”

She took another step, reached out with her hand towards the creature.

I readied myself, forcing twitchy muscles to stay still, to let her play the game the way she wanted to.

But I would spear that snakey neck into the ground before it…

Let her rub it beneath the chin?

Huh.

“I mean they didn’t look anything like this, of course,” Yasmin said, continuing to scratch under the rounded head with one hand while her other hand stroked the sinuous neck. “But the bouncing, the play bows, weirdly they track pretty well.”

She patted the thing’s shoulder and turned to me, keeping one hand on it. “Maybe they’re just one of the dominant life forms and they’re all over the moon,” she said. “It’s hard to believe that it could’ve followed us through the caverns, especially over the chasm. Maybe it knew the way over the cliff, and we should have followed it?”

It head-butted her, making an odd high-pitched whistling sound as she resumed scratching it. “I think I’ll call you Bobo. That was my puppy’s name, way back then.” Yasmin glared at me. “Stop laughing. I was five.”

Another bump from Bobo, demanding her attention, set her laughing. “I think you can put the spear down now,” Yasmin said.

Then a howl broke through the brush and Bobo screeched in pain as a blur of orange and green tore him away from her.

This time, there was no