dancers.
“We’ll go out the back,” Tal said.
“Good, we can collect Trix,” Darry said grumpily. “She should’ve been back from the lav by now. Christ, I hope she’s not sick again.”
Chapter Seven
Trix wasn’t in the back hallway outside the lavs. Darry peered at Scala. “Can you go in and check on her? I’d go, but last time, I tangled with a Mau female who took exception to a male in the female’s lav. She was bigger’n me. A lot bigger.”
“What?” It took Scala a sec to focus on what he was saying.
She felt sick herself, after so nearly bumping into her old crewmates. She’d been so proud to be one of them, and so arrogant, thinking nothing could ever topple her from her exalted status.
Now she felt sick with shame at the thought of them spotting her, their smiles turned to disgust. She’d be lucky if they didn’t kick the crap out of her before calling the cops.
Tal smacked her ass, and gave her a nudge toward the women’s lav. “Snap out of it, Snake Eyes. Go check on Trix. If she’s sick, come get Darry.”
“Right. Okay.” She moved to obey like an automaton.
Inside the big lav, however, other concerns swept away her puny problems.
A huge orange-skinned being with ugly bulging musculature and an enormous bald head held Trix up against the wall with one huge paw, while he yanked at her tights with the other. A Gorglon and a drunk one. He was so inebriated he was weaving on his big, ugly feet.
Scala felt a slash of guilt, as if her snide warning to Trix had materialized.
Then molten fury overtook her, and her battle instincts kicked in. Peripherally, Scala noted that one of the lav stalls was closed tight, its user no doubt cowering silently until the trouble was over. No help there, but only one opponent. Easy as raising the hair on a Pangaean.
Trix struggled furiously, her face nearly purple with rage as she fought her captor. “Let me go, you big baboon! I’ll kill you!”
The being made a horrible gargling sound that must be laughter. “ Shaamat maz, kala. A granaat da.”
“Hey!” Scala yelled. “Put her down!”
She launched herself across the small room, vaulting off the dingy counter that held the sinks and landed on the Gorglon’s back, reaching around to gouge at his eyes.
With a bellow of pain, he staggered sideways, reaching back to grab her. But she was already gone, leaving a gash on the side of his neck with her small blade. Dark blood spurted, splattering her tank and arms.
The Gorglon roared again. With a heave of his huge shoulders, he threw Scala back. She slammed against the door of the toilet—the closed one, thank goddess. She dropped to her feet and ducked a huge fist, peering around him at Trix, who was draped over the counter, one hand to her throat, gagging.
“Trix, run!”
But Trix straightened with murder in her eyes and a blade in her own hand. “Not a chance,” she gritted. “He grabbed my tits. Nobody grabs my lady parts.”
Great, now she had to distract the Gorglon long enough to get Trix out of the way. Scala hit her com. “Hey!” she yelled. “A little help in here, please!”
“ Bah, shaalah gah!” the Gorglon roared, lumbering toward her.
Her com translated his threat, but she really didn’t have time to listen. It was no doubt some variation on kill, maim or dismember, with rape somewhere in the mix.
She leapt up, braced herself against the lav door, and kicked out with all her might, striking him in the chest.
He staggered backward, tripped over Trix’s outstretched leg, receiving a new slash on his arm from her blade as he toppled backward through an open door into an empty stall. A muffled shriek of terror came from the next stall.
The main door slid open and Tal raced in, laser weapon out and aimed, Darry close behind him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tal snarled.
“Gorglon,” Trix managed, pointing at the burly legs and feet sticking out of the stall as the Gorglon
“We’ll go out the back,” Tal said.
“Good, we can collect Trix,” Darry said grumpily. “She should’ve been back from the lav by now. Christ, I hope she’s not sick again.”
Chapter Seven
Trix wasn’t in the back hallway outside the lavs. Darry peered at Scala. “Can you go in and check on her? I’d go, but last time, I tangled with a Mau female who took exception to a male in the female’s lav. She was bigger’n me. A lot bigger.”
“What?” It took Scala a sec to focus on what he was saying.
She felt sick herself, after so nearly bumping into her old crewmates. She’d been so proud to be one of them, and so arrogant, thinking nothing could ever topple her from her exalted status.
Now she felt sick with shame at the thought of them spotting her, their smiles turned to disgust. She’d be lucky if they didn’t kick the crap out of her before calling the cops.
Tal smacked her ass, and gave her a nudge toward the women’s lav. “Snap out of it, Snake Eyes. Go check on Trix. If she’s sick, come get Darry.”
“Right. Okay.” She moved to obey like an automaton.
Inside the big lav, however, other concerns swept away her puny problems.
A huge orange-skinned being with ugly bulging musculature and an enormous bald head held Trix up against the wall with one huge paw, while he yanked at her tights with the other. A Gorglon and a drunk one. He was so inebriated he was weaving on his big, ugly feet.
Scala felt a slash of guilt, as if her snide warning to Trix had materialized.
Then molten fury overtook her, and her battle instincts kicked in. Peripherally, Scala noted that one of the lav stalls was closed tight, its user no doubt cowering silently until the trouble was over. No help there, but only one opponent. Easy as raising the hair on a Pangaean.
Trix struggled furiously, her face nearly purple with rage as she fought her captor. “Let me go, you big baboon! I’ll kill you!”
The being made a horrible gargling sound that must be laughter. “ Shaamat maz, kala. A granaat da.”
“Hey!” Scala yelled. “Put her down!”
She launched herself across the small room, vaulting off the dingy counter that held the sinks and landed on the Gorglon’s back, reaching around to gouge at his eyes.
With a bellow of pain, he staggered sideways, reaching back to grab her. But she was already gone, leaving a gash on the side of his neck with her small blade. Dark blood spurted, splattering her tank and arms.
The Gorglon roared again. With a heave of his huge shoulders, he threw Scala back. She slammed against the door of the toilet—the closed one, thank goddess. She dropped to her feet and ducked a huge fist, peering around him at Trix, who was draped over the counter, one hand to her throat, gagging.
“Trix, run!”
But Trix straightened with murder in her eyes and a blade in her own hand. “Not a chance,” she gritted. “He grabbed my tits. Nobody grabs my lady parts.”
Great, now she had to distract the Gorglon long enough to get Trix out of the way. Scala hit her com. “Hey!” she yelled. “A little help in here, please!”
“ Bah, shaalah gah!” the Gorglon roared, lumbering toward her.
Her com translated his threat, but she really didn’t have time to listen. It was no doubt some variation on kill, maim or dismember, with rape somewhere in the mix.
She leapt up, braced herself against the lav door, and kicked out with all her might, striking him in the chest.
He staggered backward, tripped over Trix’s outstretched leg, receiving a new slash on his arm from her blade as he toppled backward through an open door into an empty stall. A muffled shriek of terror came from the next stall.
The main door slid open and Tal raced in, laser weapon out and aimed, Darry close behind him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Tal snarled.
“Gorglon,” Trix managed, pointing at the burly legs and feet sticking out of the stall as the Gorglon
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