Part of the crew

The crowd's murmurs crescendoed into scattered applause. Coins clattered at their feet—some currency, some teeth, all tribute. Susan spat a mouthful of blood onto the grimy floor and grinned up at the Voraxian through her split lip. "Yeah? Wait 'til you see what I can do with my teeth." The alien's answering laugh sounded like boulders grinding together. He leaned down until his tusks framed her face, his breath hot enough to blister paint. "Vorax likes you," he admitted, tapping a claw against her collarbone. "You and mate-fighter. Strong for soft things."

Adam's grip tightened on Susan's arm as three more Voraxians shouldered through the crowd—each bulkier than the last, their belts heavy with trophies. The lead Voraxian jerked his head toward them. "My pack. We hunt bounties between stars." He flicked a claw at the plasma pistol tucked into Susan's waistband—the one missing its safety. "You shoot like human?"

Susan popped the pistol's charge cell with practiced ease, caught it midair, and slammed it back home without looking. "I shoot better than human." The Voraxian's eyes gleamed like polished obsidian. He made a wet clicking sound in his throat that might've been approval. "Good. Pack needs new claws." He tossed something at Adam—a chit stamped with a snarling muzzle. "Meet at Docking Bay Tau at next cycle. Bring own weapons."