Immunity (Book 3 of the Dana Halliday series)

ROUSED RABBLE. DIFFERENT DEVILS. BOZHE MOI.

 "Oh, fuck me," I said, maybe a little louder than I'd intended.

I sensed the tension in the air scramble for purchase and then re-focus on the Sturv. Disgruntled murmurs coalesced, a balloon ready to pop.

One of the Sturv advanced toward me, utterly ignoring the roused rabble in the background. "Dana Halliday?"

I froze for a moment, pondering. The protective faceplate of the being's bulbous helmet obscured the features. Probably a male; it could be quite hard to tell, but I'd gotten better at it on Tirza 50. "Ihi. Volshoth ter...?"

He shuffled a step closer. "Someone you need to obey, and quickly."

A weapon appeared in the Sturv's hand. I looked at his crew. They were a motley one, all mismatched armor with a baker's dozen different helmet styles. All had their faceplates down, and weapons—probably stunners, though I didn't care to find out for sure—trained on the Earthers in the area.

I chanced a peek at my planetmates. No one seemed especially combative anymore. "Will you let everyone else leave peacefully?"

"Dana," Yuri said. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, don't worry. You're coming with me." I held what I imagined was eye contact with the Sturv leader. "Is that allowed?"

"Ihi."

I stepped away from the taxi and waved a hand at Anastasia. "She leaves first. Then the others."

"Agreed."

"Dana..." Now Yuri had a pleading tone.

"Trust me," I said. "We're in a devil-you-know situation."

"We seem to know different devils," he retorted, with a hint of a smile.

He had a point, but our Earther antagonists were retreating already. Several scoffed and laughed as they went, no doubt imagining what the Sturv were going to do with us.

I sheathed my mini sword and put it away in my bag. Anastasia, grumbling yet again, started up her golf cart and lifted off. I gave her a reassuring wave, hoping Yuri had given her an extravagant tip.

And now we faced only the Sturv. The leader relaxed, sighing, and took a few steps back. The slight limp I'd recognized, even before he'd spoken to confirm his identity with his voice, worsened a bit.

I put my hands on my hips and let out a relieved groan. "Hi, Dross. That leg still bothering you?"

* * *

The Sturv flipped up his faceplate and smiled at me. "Someday, perhaps, I'll have the time—and security—to have the muscle restored. Not that you didn't do an adequate job."

"Thanks?" I grinned. "Yuri, this is Dross Koldep. An acquaintance from Tirza 50."

Dross gave me a mock-sad face. "Could we refer to ourselves as friends?"

"Aww, shucks. Why not?"

I turned, noting that Yuri didn't seem thrilled about coming closer. He ruffled his hair, an unnamed expression on his face. It combined disbelief and resignation, with a heaping spoonful of involuntary elation.

"Pirates," he said, almost to himself. "You've...turned us over...to pirates."

I shrugged. "Technically, I suppose. But I promised him I'd trust him the next time we met."

"There is no need to fear, good sir." Dross spoke English with a weirdly posh affectation, especially amusing when you knew he'd been a history professor in a former life. "The Akula and its cohort are off-limits to my operation."