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Dock A Hallways


Jen Sin threw himself to the deck, rolling. The first bolt missed him, and the second. He hit the wall, came up onto one knee, energy pistol in his hand—and froze.

The avians—his bold, brave birds—were diving at the assassin, claws out and sharp on an unprotected face.

The crossbow fell to the deck with a clatter.

Chernak arrived, swinging a large arm out to slam the assassin against the wall. He bounced. Stost caught him, and held him negligently, drooping over one arm.

Jen Sin got to his feet, slipping the little gun away.

“There was another shooter waiting at the entrance to the maintenance hall.” Chernak used her thumb to point back the way they had come. “Orders, Light Keeper?”

“It happens that there are holding rooms, just down here,” he said. “Let us secure them.”

“Yes,” said Stost, throwing the unconscious assassin over one shoulder. Jen Sin picked up the crossbow.

“I will get the other,” Chernak said, and left them, returning with a similarly limp form over her shoulder, a crossbow slung on her belt.

“Thank you,” Jen Sin said, and waved down the hall.

“This way.”


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Framed