Blood and Starlight

Adam lay in the rubble, his body aching from the ambush. The attackers had left him beaten and bruised, his dignity barely intact. Around him, the remnants of a shattered room crumbled, dust hanging thick in the air. The people of the building—various alien species and a few humans—watched from the shadows, their eyes filled with weariness but not a single voice dared to speak. Not after seeing the kind of men who had just walked away.

Adam exhaled sharply and forced himself up, wincing. His gaze swept over the damage—broken walls, shattered furniture, debris scattered across the floor.

He turned to the bystanders. "I'm sorry for the damage," he said, his voice rough. "I don't have the money to pay right now... but I ca—"

"Please... just go."

The voice was unexpectedly soft, yet firm. Adam turned to see the landlord—a small, furry, upright creature in a tailored suit. His beady black eyes betrayed exhaustion rather than anger. His kind was common in these rundown areas, always trying to keep their businesses afloat, even in the middle of lawless chaos.

Adam met his gaze, then sighed. Without another word, he turned and headed upstairs.

The room he had rented—or what was left of it—was barely recognizable. Dust and shards of metal crunched beneath his boots as he picked his way through the wreckage. His mind was focused on one thing.

His hoverbike.

But it wasn't there.

For a moment, he just stared at the empty space where it should have been. Then realization hit him like a freight hauler.

"Oh, hell no."

The frustration surged through him. He clenched his fists before turning sharply and storming back down to the landlord.

"Where's the closest information merchant?" Adam demanded.

The landlord hesitated, clearly reluctant to get involved. But seeing the look in Adam's eyes, he sighed and muttered, "Savaris's Black Market… two blocks east."

Adam wasted no time.

Savaris's Black Market.

A cesspool of crime, vice, and lawlessness. The streets buzzed with a mix of neon lights and flickering holograms, illuminating the underbelly of the city. Criminals of every kind lurked here—smugglers, bounty hunters, slavers. Some indulged in pleasures, disappearing into dimly lit alleyways with alien courtesans. Others haggled over illegal weapons, credits exchanged in hushed tones.

And then there were the slave traders.

Adam moved past a group of them, his jaw tightening as he saw rows of sentient beings in reinforced cages. Some were battered, others merely hollow-eyed, their spirits already broken. The sight disgusted him, but he forced himself to stay focused.

He finally found the place the landlord had mentioned. Unlike the gaudy, flashy establishments of the market, this one was small and unassuming, hidden away in a darkened corner. No bright lights. No holograms. Just a rusty metal door and a single dull sign that flickered sporadically.

Adam stepped inside.

Darkness swallowed him at first. Then, with a loud hum, dim lights flickered to life, casting eerie shadows along the walls. And that's when he noticed them.

Hundreds of insect-like creatures, no bigger than a finger, crawling across every surface of the room. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor had a few skittering around. Their tiny legs clicked against the metal, a sound that sent an involuntary shudder up Adam's spine.

A chair creaked ahead of him.

Slowly, it turned, revealing an old humanoid alien woman with deep red skin, her face wrinkled like ancient parchment. A strange, eye-like symbol was embedded on her forehead, and her yellowed eyes regarded him with nothing but irritation.

"You're wasting my time," she rasped. "State your business, or get out."

Adam stepped forward, ignoring the crawling creatures around him. "I need information on a slaver."

The woman snorted. "Not my problem. Get lost."

Adam wasn't having it. "Listen, lady, I'm not here to waste time. A slaver. He stole from me, and I need to know where he is."

Her expression darkened. "Savan?" She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "You're better off leaving that one alone, boy."

"I don't have that luxury," Adam shot back. "Where is he?"

She exhaled through her nose, rubbing her temple as if deciding whether she cared enough to help him. Finally, after a moment of silence, she spoke.

"Savan…" she muttered. "That man's been in this world of filth for longer than you've been breathing."

Adam crossed his arms. "And?"

"I ain't telling..." she said. "Get lost, you br—"

Before she could finish, Adam slammed his hand on the table, splintering the old wood with a sharp crack. The entire piece collapsed in two, sending crawling insects scattering in every direction. The sudden impact sent a tremor through the room, the skittering of tiny legs filling the silence.

The old woman didn't even flinch. Instead, she sighed, shaking her head as if she had seen this kind of outburst countless times before. She slowly leaned forward, resting her elbow on the remains of the table, and studied Adam with an unreadable expression.

"...I had my doubts, but you... you're a bio-engineered human, right?"

Adam narrowed his eyes. "So what?"

A slow, toothy grin spread across her wrinkled face. "I like types like you. If you raid his house and get out alive… bring me 1,000 credits."

Her voice was sharp now, carrying an edge of amusement. The way she spoke made it clear that she wasn't making a request—this was a demand, a test, perhaps even a game to her.

Adam clenched his jaw. He wasn't in the mood for games.

"Fine," he said after a brief pause, his tone cold. "But if the information is false, I'll gut you and feed you to these bugs."

The woman let out a raspy, wheezing laugh. "Hah! Try if you can, boy. These bugs are one with me. How do you think I gather information, huh?"

Adam glanced at the crawling creatures again, their tiny legs clicking against the metal walls and floor. There was something unnatural about the way they moved—almost too synchronized, too aware of their surroundings. He didn't know if her claim was just bravado or something worse, but either way, he didn't have time to waste.

"Whatever," he muttered. "Just... tell me all about him."

The woman's grin faded slightly, and she leaned back in her chair. Her fingers absentmindedly tapped against her armrest as she spoke.

"He was a slave once," she said. "Bought and sold right here in Savaris's market. But he wasn't the type to stay chained. He escaped—with two others. They were just kids, but they survived. Now? They're his bodyguards. You probably saw them—Shaltrin and Altrin."

Adam frowned. "The two insect brutes with him?"

She nodded. "They follow him like shadows. They owe him their lives."

Adam scoffed. "Great. That makes my job easier."

The old woman chuckled dryly. "Doubtful. He built himself from the ground up, clawing his way into the underworld. Now, he's the biggest kingpin in this city. Ironic, isn't it? A former slave, now the biggest slaver around."

Adam's fingers twitched. He already hated this guy.

"What species is he?" he asked.

"Srivatian," she replied. "Not strong, not fast… but dangerous in their own way. Their screams can shatter steel. One good shout, and you won't be hearing anything for a while. If you survive, that is."

Adam absorbed the warning. "And his bodyguards?"

"Shaltrin and Altrin. They're Handrins," she said. "A rare type of Handrin with reinforced legs. Watch them. They're fast—too fast for their size. Don't let them get behind you, or you're dead before you even know what hit you."

Adam nodded slowly, processing everything.

"Where is he now?"

"He's having an auction tonight," she murmured. "A big one. Rare merchandise. He'll be there."

Adam clenched his fists.

That bastard was selling people tonight.

Good. That makes my conscience lighter.

Then tonight, Adam was going to take something from him.

His hoverbike.

And maybe… just maybe… his life.