Raesa curled into herself, willing the shadows to wrap her in safety. Her shoulder ached and the stench of her own burned flesh overrode the calm she prided herself in. She’d been shot in the arm with a riot blaster. Who the hell used riot blasters on a mercenary ship? The sound of weapons discharging behind her kicked Raesa into gear. If she made it out of this in one piece, she’d jump on the first ship out of the sector she could find. She brushed her fingertips against the Isis collar around her throat. It looked delicate but experience told her the only way to unlock it was the key. And that was an eternity away from here. If the Imperials found her, she was as good as dead. Runaway slaves were put down. Raesa did a visual sweep of the Crimson Star’s cargo bay and found it strangely empty of personnel. A wave of dizziness crashed over her and she stumbled. Frustration and a smidge more fear than she wanted to admit dug into her chest. It felt like her brain was miles ahead of her legs.
