Page 2 of On a Rogue Planet
But Aston’s words echoed in her head.A man doesn’t want a woman with grease under her nails, Malin. No one likes a woman who smells like starship fuel and whose wardrobe is filled with coveralls.
I don’t feel anything for you, Malin.
Snotty bastard. She straightened.Better off without them, Mal. She managed another smile for Trax, but inside she wondered if she’d ever find a love like her parents had shared. Her father had pined for his dead wife until the day he died. Just once, Malin wanted to be the center of someone’s universe.
“Trax, I?—”
An explosion in the distance had them both spinning. Mal saw a huge, mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke rising above the central part of Haxx.
Her pulse tripped. “What in stars’ name?—?”
Trax was frowning. “An accident, maybe.”
Haxx was a beautiful city. Graceful towers of glass and metal speared into the sky, wide at their bases and tapering to elegant points high above the ground. In between were the lower academy buildings where the planet’s designers worked and trained their apprentices. The academies were sprawling structures of gleaming white, with rounded metallic domes.
There was a roar as a formation of black Infiltrators screamed overhead.
“Ms. Malin, something is very wrong. I think you should get back to your ship?—”
Another explosion. Not very far away.
The ground beneath them shook and Malin grabbed onto the ruined ship beside her to stay on her feet.
Laser fire sounded. Really close.
Insidethe salvage yard.
“Go!” Trax yelled as he sprinted toward the sounds of fighting.
Crap. Mal spun and raced back toward the small landing pad beside the salvage yard where her baby—a Norian starfreighter she’d named theFirebird—was waiting. She ducked around the wrecks and engines, running as fast as she could.
She was in good shape—she yanked parts off ships, swung tools, and lifted heavy things every day—but she heard the distinctive sound of laser fire getting closer, accompanied by deep shouts of multiple men in a guttural language her lingual implant didn’t recognize.
She stopped and pressed her back against the rusting hull of a ship that had obviously been in the yard longer than she’d beenalive. Air sawed in and out of her lungs. What the hell was going on? Centax was an orderly planet and they had Centax Security.
No one messed with CenSecs.
Everyone in the galaxy had heard of the deadly, emotionless CenSecs—heavily enhanced cyborgs, they were said to be faster, stronger, and more intelligent. The ultimate fighters. Nobody was crazy enough to go up against CenSecs.
Sudden silence. Okay, the laser fire had stopped.Time to get out of here.
She took one step and then was jerked backward.
Strong, black-clad arms wrapped around her and she was yanked back against a hard body.
Mal went wild. A childhood spent traveling the galaxy with her father as he collected scrap meant her dad had taught her to protect herself. She shoved an elbow back, which met with a rock-hard abdomen. She dropped her weight, twisting as she did, trying to break his hold.
His arms were unyielding. He was strong. Too strong.
“Be still.”
A quiet, lethal whisper that raised the hairs on her arms. She opened her mouth to scream.
A gloved hand slammed over her mouth. She twisted and struggled, but he dragged her back, inside the hulk of the rusted ship. He pulled her down, his big body surrounding hers to hold her in place. He felt hot, far hotter than a regular man.
With his other hand, he pointed out into the scrapyard.
When she saw what he pointed at, she stopped moving.
