“This is really it?” the kaital asked, staring down at the IDR with wide, black eyes. Even in the dim alleyway light, her skin was a vibrant teal, contrasted by patches of pink on her neck and the insides of her long, pointed ears.
“Yeah.” Drakkal tucked the credit chip away. “Keyed only to the ID you specified. Hold it to the wrist and press the button. Green light means it altered the chip’s info.”
Moving with care and a touch of awe, the kaital curled her fingers around the little device, closing it in a loose fist. “Thank you. My mate…he must become someone else for a while, to be safe.”
Something in Drakkal’s heart warmed at the loving tone in the kaital’s voice. He didn’t let that show in his expression. “One successful use and the internals will self-destruct. Destroy whatever’s left over.”
The kaital nodded, clutching her closed fist to her chest and bending her long, graceful neck to bow her head. “I will do as you say. Thank you, azhera, thank you a thousand times over. May the stars watch over you favorably for the rest of your days.”
Though he’d heard such sentiments before, they always made Drakkal uncomfortable. This time, the work he and Arcanthus had done had a chance of protecting someone’s life. He wanted to believe that someone was worthy of protection. At the very least, it was someone this female cared for very deeply. But all the same, this had been a business transaction. They’d turned a profit off someone in need, off someone in danger. They’d monetized someone’s desperation.
There was as much chance that this kaital’s mate deserved whatever was coming to him.
Drakkal wasn’t sure how he felt about all this anymore. He was realistic enough to understand that he and Arcanthus couldn’t run their operation for free, but…weren’t there people in this city who needed the sort of help Arcanthus’s skills could provide but who couldn’t afford the price?
Vrek’osh, I’m going soft.
No, he wasn’t going soft. He was just sympathizing with Shay’s sentiments a little more every day—he was tired of being on the wrong side of the law. Tired of having to worry about it.
“Good luck,” he said. “You need us again, you know how to get in touch with us.”
After a few more thanks from the kaital, Drakkal turned and exited the alleyway.
Should’ve given her back the credits.
But what would Arcanthus have said?We’re not running a charity. Those words might’ve seemed cold or callous on the surface, but they were right. It was impractical to delve into the story of every client, and in many cases, getting involved beyond the usual background checks to avoid making a deal that risked peacekeeper intervention was a liability. Drakkal and Arcanthus couldn’t risk catching the attention of a larger, more powerful organization again, couldn’t chance calling more danger to the family they’d formed.
We can’t help everyone.
But Drakkal was immensely, eternally grateful for the one person hehadrisked himself to help. Given the chance to do it all over again, he wouldn’t have changed a thing; he’d been fortunate enough to win Shay and earn her love and respect. The struggles he’d faced in the process only made her infinitely more precious to him.
As he returned to his hovercar, he forced aside his thoughts of work; he’d express his growing dissatisfaction to Arcanthus sometime after he’d had a chance to figure out the true depth of his feelings. For now, there were happier things to occupy his attention.
Drakkal climbed into the vehicle, started the engines, and took off. Leaving home earlier had been a struggle for him, to no one’s surprise—he’d spent the last two weeks with Shay and Leah, rarely separated from one or the other for more than a few minutes at a time, and it had been both the happiest and most exhausting period of his life. That tiny cub had claimed ahuge chunk of Drakkal’s heart. He yearned to return to them now, but he guided the hovercar toward the upper city instead.
The delay would be worth it when he arrived home with the gifts he’d ordered.
Once he was above the surface, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander a little. The abundant plants and fountains—many of the latter designed to resemble naturally occurring features—always put him in a mood that made the Undercity much less appealing.
Would Shay ever want to leave Arthos? Could Drakkal bring himself to give up all his friends for a chance at quiet and solitude?
Oddly enough, he knew the answer without having to think on it. Arthos had become his home. Everyone important to him was here, and despite his grumblings, the city had grown on him. He’d follow Shay anywhere she wanted to go, but the life they had here wasn’t bad. Hell, it was actually really good.
He left the hovercar at one of the many public parking complexes situated across the surface. He pulled on his nicest jacket, covering his sleek prosthesis but for the hand, and shifted his holstered blaster toward the back of his belt. Many people openly carried weapons in the Infinite City, but the key in places like this—places with high concentrations of peacekeepers—was to carry it so casually as to seem oblivious to its existence. The high-class people who often frequented places like the one for which he was bound tended to be somewhat more skittish than their Undercity counterparts, who weren’t even guaranteed to scatter when blasterfire erupted in the street.
He'd seen the Ventrillian Mall before, and though he’d always found it nice looking—in an overly manicured, too-orderly-to-be-natural sort of way—he wasted no time in takingin the sights. He didn’t deviate from his path, and within a few minutes of entering the mall, he’d arrived at the specialty tailors.
The place was owned and operated by volturians, all of whom were dressed in what Drakkal assumed were the latest fashions—he’d never paid enough attention to such things to know for sure. The female volturian at the counter eyed Drakkal up and down as he approached, arching one of her thin brows.
“Can I help you?” she asked, though her tone said,Are you lost?
Drakkal had dealt with such attitudes often enough that he wasn’t bothered by them anymore—especially not now, when his life was good, and he felt whole. “I had an order come in. Here to pick it up.”
Somehow, her expression became more skeptical. “There are several tailors in the Undercity. You probably have an order with one of them.”
Grinning to display his fangs, Drakkal shook his head. “This is the place. Figured I’d have my measurements taken while I’m here, too. Just a warning—I’ve been shedding lately.”
The distaste that wrinkled the female’s face was deeply satisfying. “What’s the name on the order?”