The woman walked alone.
“She’ll have food tokens,” Jenna said.
Five men nodded. Jenna fingered the trigger of the holo-knife she’d stolen from a rival; it fooled scans and would leave a pretty hole.
They cornered the woman at a junction, weapons raised. Golden eyes flickered. Jenna's gut clenched. It was a droid mole: a trap to catch rebels.
It opened its mouth. Scorching flames shot out, burning Jenna’s men to a crisp. Jenna screamed. The flames were hot, but the burn of the dragon-droid’s laser planting a chip in her heart was worse.
She bowed. “What is your command?”
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alt="Flameout by C.L. Sidell"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="First Kiss, Second Kiss by Jeff Currier"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Up, Up and Stay by Jacob Conflitti"
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sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Butterfly Defect by Andreas Flögel"
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