Krac’s Firebrand

Chapter 1-3

“How much longer are we gonna be in this hole?” a scarred-faced man sitting at the table grumbled. “We were supposed to have moved out yesterday.”

“The female is being difficult,” the other man replied, sitting back in his seat and studying the tablet in his hand. “Move four spaces to the left, sling blade left to right,” he muttered.

“Damn it,” scarred-face cursed when the character on his tablet disintegrated. “That was my second most powerful beast.”

“You should have seen it coming,” the other man laughed hoarsely, tipping his head back, and swallowing deeply from the flask he held in his other hand. “That is one hundred credits you owe me now.”

“He won’t be paying you,” Krac said calmly as he ran his blade across the scarred-faced man’s neck. He ignored the head that fell in the opposite direction of the body as it separated. “I want information and you are going to give it to me before I kill you.”

The thin figure of the male surged from his seat, tossing the flask to one side as he drew a pistol from his waist. His scream of agony was cut short by Krac’s fingers tightening around his throat. The arm with the pistol now lay on the floor.

Krac slowly walked forward, holding the paling male up off the ground until he had him pinned against the far wall. He made sure the male got a good look at him. He wanted the male to know that death had come for him and it was in the form of a creature more dangerous than he had ever seen before.

“Who is your leader?” Krac asked coldly.

“I…,” the male gurgled as his eyes began to dim. “What… are...?”

Krac pulled the male forward before slamming him back against the wall. The sound of the man’s head cracking against the uneven stone echoed loudly in the quietness of the room. The glazed eyes faded to blankness.

“Word of advice, Krac,” Rorrak’s dry voice sounded behind him. “If you want information, you have to leave your informant in one piece and not smash his head first.”

Krac grunted in disgust as he dropped the male to the floor and turned with a glare. “Most species, especially the humans, are too fragile.”

Rorrak looked at the bloody curved blade still clenched in Krac’s left hand. He shook his head and chuckled. Not even a Zion warrior would be able to survive such a wound.

“Not all of us are made up of living metal,” Rorrak replied dryly. “We have less than five minutes before more company arrives. I’d like to at least rescue the ‘Princess’ before they arrive.”

Krac nodded. “Is your warship close?”

“Yes,” Rorrak bit out. “But, we still have a fight on our hands.”

“You keep Anastasia Miller safe,” Krac instructed as he headed toward the door leading down to the second level. “I’ll take care of everything else.”

Rorrak shrugged. “Fine with me. I just hope I don’t have to carry her ass. You know how Earth women are.”

Krac’s eyebrow rose at the comment. Yes, he did know what most human women were like and preferred to avoid them, as they were weepy, fragile, and weak. He had only met two human females that gave him pause to think that they were not ordinary to the human female species: Gracie Jones and Anastasia Miller. Both of those human females confused him, as neither behaved like those he had met while on Earth.

“Just protect her,” Krac replied. “I will kill you if she gets hurt.”

“Well, that changes everything,” Rorrak muttered darkly under his breath as Krac palmed the door panel and disappeared down the second set of stairs. “I guess I’ll just carry her ass then.”