The first thing that hit me was the smell.

  Sharp. Oily. Rotten.

  I shuddered, grimacing.

  I’m gonna have to shower.

  Hell, I might need five.

  Neon ad signs buzzed and flickered overhead, throwing garish colors onto the street like some alien carnival.

  Vendors lined the sidewalks, shouting over each other as they hawked their wares from behind makeshift stalls cluttered with alien tech, weapons, and strange, wriggling creatures squirming in glass jars.

  One of the creatures twisted around, staring at me with way too many eyes.

  I sped up. I don’t need to know what else is for sale around here.

  And the noise.

  Voices shouting in languages I didn’t understand. Engines roaring. Something that sounded like heavy machinery grinding in the distance.

  Rykka-9 wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

  I kept my head down, blending into the crowd as I cut through a narrow alley that opened into the Underlight District.

  If there was a darker corner of the galaxy, I hadn’t seen it.

  Here, bounty hunters and smugglers mingled with information brokers and drifters, exchanging credits, secrets, and sometimes fists.

  Gritty. Grimy.

  Exactly where I needed to be.

  Eyes darted my way, sizing me up. Suspicion. Disgust.

  Aliens weren’t shy about how they felt about humans.

  We were the interstellar cockroach. Annoying, stubborn, and popping up everywhere we didn’t belong.

  But hey, cockroaches don’t die easy.

  Say what you want about humans, we didn’t exactly make friends out here, but we sure as hell made waves.

  The galaxy knew we were here.

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  If they didn’t like it? That was their problem.

  I ignored the looks. No sense inviting trouble just yet.

  I slipped past a towering alien with spikes running down its arms—looked like it could rip me in half with a casual swipe—and past a stall selling jars of neon-green liquid labeled PURE VENOM.

  Good to know where to stock up.

  A flickering sign hung overhead, glowing in patchy, angry letters:

  NO CREDITS, NO QUESTIONS, NO MERCY.

  Welcome to the heart of Draxis Reach.

  If Astra was anywhere, it was here.

  I wound my way through the Underlight District, heading for a bar that had seen its fair share of shady deals and spilled blood—

  The Black Nebula.

  Astra Voss’s last known stomping ground.

  If she was still around, she’d be here… or at least someone who knew where she’d gone.

  The place loomed ahead.

  A battered neon sign flickered over the entrance, half the letters dead, the rest sputtering like they were on their last leg.

  Typical Draxis charm.

  A hulking bouncer stood by the door, arms folded, looking about as friendly as a rockslide.

  His glare made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for games.

  Human-sized or not, I could tell he wasn’t impressed.

  “Nice place you got here.” I nodded at the cracked walls and grime-streaked windows. “Very… welcoming.”

  He snorted.

  But a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

  Apparently, that was good enough.

  He stepped aside, and I slid past him into the darkness.

  Thick, smoky air. Dim lights casting long shadows.

  A crowd that looked like they’d rather bite you than shake your hand.

  Every eye tracked me as I walked in, their stares heavy, sizing me up.

  Danger in every corner.

  My gaze shifted to a cluster of Xyrelians—tall and lanky, with glassy skin that shimmered and shifted colors as they glanced around.

  Some glowed faint blue. Others wary yellow.

  Hard to tell if that meant curiosity, or if they were ready to throw me out the nearest airlock.

  Then there was the… well, crocodile-looking fella.

  Spiked tail, plated armor, and eyes that locked onto me like he’d just found his next meal.

  Could never remember the name of his species. Only that they weren’t big on humans.

  I took in the bar full of scaled, spiked, and venomous-looking patrons.

  Seeing them in the flesh was different than pixels on a screen.

  I felt a mix of awe and, yeah, maybe a little fear.

  But I kept my head high scanning the crowd, trying to pick out Astra’s face.

  Not that it was easy.

  Space bars had a way of looking like the universe’s junk drawer.

  A collection of the scrappy, the shady, the ones nobody wanted cluttering up a more respectable planet.

  Kind of like an adventurers’ guild in a game.

  Except instead of a lineup of cute girls with big smiles and bigger… assets...

  I got suspicious aliens who might rob, kill, or eat me.

  Every now and then, though, there was a rare find.

  Like the barmaid weaving through the crowd.

  Tight outfit. Massive knockers. A sway in her step like she owned the place.

  Well, sometimes space had its perks, I thought, trying not to stare too obviously as she passed by.

  Then—

  A strange feeling crept over me.

  Someone was watching.

  I glanced up.

  My gaze collided with a familiar pair of sharp, intense eyes across the room.

  Astra?

  She was half-hidden in the shadows, watching me with that unreadable expression that could mean about twenty different things—

  Most of them probably not good.

  Or… was it a setup?

  My gut twisted.

  The crowd shifted, obscuring her face.

  When I looked again, she was gone.

  I scanned the room.

  No sign of her.

  If it was Astra, she’d know exactly how to disappear.

  And if it wasn’t…

  I braced myself.

  Either way, I was about to find out.