- Heck…
Christina covered her head with her hands, not knowing where to go next. If only to find at least some wall to hide from this chaos. Then she saw them - the perpetrators of the hostilities. There were several ships. Their fires burned, lost in the raised dusty curtain, and the outlines became completely indistinct. The one that hovered closer over her head opened the hatch and released the ladder. At the same moment, Christina was firmly grabbed by the arm above the elbow. Holding her, the same familiar dog jumped to the edge of the ladder, grabbing with his free paw. The stick got tougher. Christina was pushed inside the site, sheltering from shots, and the hatch began to close, fencing off the deadly elements.
Something was shouted hoarsely over Christina's head, and only then did she notice a pair of boots, at which she actually landed. Their owner again shouted loudly, and the ship immediately gave such a move that her stomach nearly turned inside out.
“Damn…” Christina grabbed the grate on the floor with both hands and lifted her head.
The stranger put his hands on his hips and looked at her. The eyes of a man, and outwardly he looked exactly like a man, were covered with goggles, protecting him from a strong dust storm. On the lower part of his face, without much bother, he pulled a faded handkerchief.
The man glanced at the dog, who was casually leaning against the wall, and pulled off his glasses with a frayed leather glove. The man turned to the beast, beginning to scold him angrily. At the same time, the stranger pointed directly at Christina. She again could only guess what caused this discontent. Is everything repeating itself? She can't take it anymore...
Christina frowned. Was the stranger angry that his dog dragged her onto the ship? He pulled a handkerchief off his sweaty, unshaven face, leaned forward, and with a jerk lifted Christina from the floor. His hands held her above her elbows, hurting her. Apparently he understood this and carefully unclenched his hands.
The dog barked angrily, echoing behind him. He threatened the man with a huge paw, clenched into a fist, and quickly walked along the long metal corridor. A man also carried the unexpected guest there. The ship kept shaking from time to time, until all of a sudden everything was quiet. Only the floor under his feet vibrated measuredly, apparently indicating the work of some engines.
I wonder if she could ask them for water? Damn, or a piece of bread. Maybe callous. Why, Christina was ready to eat with mold ...
Chapter 3
She was led to some compartment. As soon as the stranger approached the door, it silently moved aside, hiding in a niche, and they entered. Here it was clear without words - in front of them was a medical bay. Christina looked with surprise at the contents of countless devices and instruments, the purpose of which could only be guessed at. The man approached her and suddenly grabbed her waist with both hands. Easily lifting, like a child seated on the hard edge of a metal table.
Nearby stood a small container half-filled with a clear liquid. Unable to cope with the tormenting thirst, Christina looked at her and reached out her hand. The stranger immediately pulled her back, telling her to sit still. Submitting, Christina pursed her dry lips, wearily watching his actions.
Normal person. No tail or horns. In a way, even cute. Her eyes are blue, her hair is light and short. Serious... He looked to be in his early thirties. Christina herself turned twenty-four a couple of months ago.
The man rummaged through the drawers and pulled out something that looked too much like a gun. The stranger equipped his "weapon" with something and headed straight for her. Cristina grabbed the smooth edge of the table, intending to jump down. She tried to push away with her foot, but her blow was easily dodged. Cristina's hair was wrapped around her arm again, and she tilted her head ruthlessly to the side. Cold iron pressed against her neck, and the prisoner held her breath.
- Well, shoot, come on ...
He pulled some kind of trigger and his neck almost tolerably baked. A disgusting feeling, and a bitter taste on the tongue made me again inexorably desire water. What's happened? What did he inject into her? Drug? Poison?.. What did this alien do to her?
- What did you do?
Cristina pressed her hand to the injection site, freeing her hair. Just as little on ceremony, the stranger held her chin, peering intently into her eyes and examining her face.
- Doesn't it burn anymore? he asked.
"Don't touch me," Cristina said grimly to his face, when their foreheads were almost touching.
- You are angry. This is good.
The man removed the tip from the "weapon" and threw it into some kind of tank, apparently with medical waste. The pistol was returned to the niche. Only now it dawned on Christina that she understood every word.
- Do you know Russian? she muttered incredulously.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
- Not. You know "karuna".
- What?
- The language you speak. Most of the races in the confederation use it. That's why the modifier was created, - the man nodded towards the "weapon".
- So now I have a chip with a dictionary in my head? Christina asked, feeling quite disgusted.
- Something like that.
- Listen. Were they arrested? Detained? What was this place? Christina asked with hope and anxiety. “They brought other women with me. I don't know where they were taken. They may get hurt.
— Heliodorus is not part of the confederation. These fights are legal,” the stranger explained, again looking for some medicines in the boxes and placing them on the table next to Christina.
- Confederation? Legal? How so?
“We justified our invasion only by the fact that our comrade was detained by the Shipruans,” he said. - Well, at the same time they patted them a little.
“But they kidnap people,” Christina was confused.
- Your system, as far as I can understand, has no alliance with the confederation. So, there was no conclusion of such conditions, - the stranger continued to speak. “I am Dalak Shane, captain of the Gray Wanderer we are on. Who are you? What is your name?
“Kristina Petrova,” she briefly introduced herself, dejectedly starting to braid her tangled hair.
- And who is Kristina Petrova? Shane's gaze moved to her clothes. — Is that a holster?
Cristina instinctively touched the leather straps. Her gratitude cannot be expressed in simple words. And until the end of her days she will be grateful to this man and his dog for saving her. But if these two were also in trouble with the local law, could she admit to being on the other side? To her surprise, Shane didn't press for an answer, pushing the mountain of medical supplies he'd dumped closer.