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what they considered important, or not. They were raiders … pillagers of worlds. Everyone had heard of the Pharloms. They would ravage at will all the planets within this solar system. Leon only knew he needed to get off this ship, away from the Pharloms, as soon as humanly possible. Leon recognized the tiny, light-blue world at the center of the hologram. So that was their destination … Trom. As the planet grew larger, so too did the levels of excitement of the bridge crew. This was what they lived for.
    “Um … I need to use the facilities.”
    The Grand Overseer ignored him.
    “I really need to go—”
    “Quiet!” The Grand Overseer turned in Leon’s direction then back toward the hologram. He spoke to the crewmember on his side. Leon remembered his name, something like Garbon … or Carbon. Whatever his name was, he stood up and gestured for Leon to follow him. Before leaving the bridge, Leon gave a half-hearted wave to the Overseer. “I’ll be right back.”
    “You’re fortunate the Grand Overseer likes you,” the bridge officer said.
    Leon simply nodded at that, not sure being liked by the Overseer was such a good thing.
    They turned and entered another corridor. The air was humid, hot and sticky. And the deck was gritty beneath his feet—as if there was a beach nearby and nobody had remembered to wipe their feet. The corridors were wide, like the chairs, and everything else, too, aboard this Pharlom ship. Leon pegged the Pharlom walking in front of him to be several thousand pounds … easily. The problem was guesstimating where his heart was located. How the hell could he even ball park it? So he didn’t try. He studied the placement of the body armor and saw where each section of armor was loosely strapped in place. Perhaps in battle they tighten these things up a little. Leon also paid attention to ridgelines of his rock-like skin. Big sections, like continents—like tectonic plates that moved on their own, as the big creature walked. In between those rocky plates would be his only access to the soft organics within. With well-practiced efficiency, Leon pulled a slender-bladed knife from a hidden sheath at the back of his collar. Garbon … or Carbon must have detected the movement because he slowed, turning his large girth around to face Leon. Leon didn’t hesitate—he drove the blade of his knife up at an angle where his armor gapped open—in between the lower torso and his chest tectonic plates … once … twice … three times.

Chapter 3
     
    Alchieves System
    Pharlom Command Warship
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    Leon jumped back as the Pharlom creature staggered, stumbled, and fell face forward onto the deck. He was fairly sure the huge creature was dead, even before hitting the deck. He was also fairly sure the racket from its fall could be heard all the way back to the bridge. Leon moved quickly, removing an energy weapon side arm from the Pharlom, who now looked more like a pile of rocks than anything else. He hesitated, looking both ways, up and down the corridor, preparing for others to come running at him any second. No one came. Leon examined the weapon in his hand. It was immense—suited for someone with fingers the size of bananas. He placed two fingers over the trigger and tested his grip. It would have to do. Leon took one last look at Garbon, or Carbon, or whatever the hell his name was, and hurried down the corridor.
    He knew exactly where he needed to go. One thing in Leon’s favor—the Pharloms typically designed their vessels with only one primary deck. They didn’t like stairways. You wouldn’t find an elevator on board, either—their enormous weight prohibited its usage. The ship was an oblong sphere, so Leon kept moving down the curved corridor toward its wider stern section. Eventually he knew he’d run into the flight deck. There he’d find a ship. Unfortunately, though, the Pharloms weren’t much on using smaller, individual-type space vessels. Their girth