Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) by John Hindmarsh Page A

immediately to the waiting freighter.
    “Now you have met our wardrobe master.”
    “Wardrobe master?” Steg almost choked at the unexpected label.
    “Yes, sometimes we find it necessary when we—Guards—go offworld—on duty, as it were—to be kitted out first with suitable clothing for our task. Our resident Chirrix provides a suitable wardrobe, in return for which we have helped him develop a profitable trade with his home system. The one thing they cannot grow on their planet is cotton, and we ship hundreds of bales for him each year. Cotton somehow helps their metabolism at nesting time, I have heard.”
    “His presence here would surprise the Imperials.”
    “Yes, their xenos claim Chirrix and humans are natural enemies—or at least, they claim Chirrix have an uncontrollable urge to kill humans. Not true. The young males, before they mature, are likely to attack anything that looks like food; however, they can be avoided. Our friend here is an elder and does not have that in-built urge. He even wears an artificial skullcap—his own skull feathers fell out years ago. Just remember, if you ever encounter a young male, he will attack. Only the Chirrix elders have adequate control to deal with us.”
    They ventured further into the extended port area where the streets were wider, well lit, and busier with both humans and aliens. No one gave Steg and his companion as much as a second glance. After a half-kay of walking, they approached one of the spaceport access points. Steg was apprehensive as they joined the small throng waiting to be cleared through the entrance.
    One by one they moved forward as Imperial soldiers supervised a very thorough inspection of documents and identities. At last Steg stepped up, presented his identity and travel documents, and pressed his hand onto the print-plate. To his immense relief no alarms sounded and the security officer waved him through. Steg exited the checkpoint and slowed to wait for his companion who finally cleared the checkpoint. Steg then walked briskly towards the exit gate for the Rimerian star freighter that was to take him offworld. Thomas followed at a discrete distance.
    “Stop. Hey—you. Stop.” The command rang out sharply, echoing off the walls and ceiling of the long corridor leading to the embarkation ramp. Steg had almost reached the exit door; only yards to go to reach safety. Thomas was close behind him. Again the voice rang out. “Stop. If you don’t stop, I’ll fire.”
    Thomas gripped Steg’s arm and they stopped and turned. “Be ready, lad,” cautioned Thomas softly. The Imperial officer was hurrying towards them, stunner in hand. He was accompanied by two Imperial soldiers, also armed. They were still some distance away.
    “’I’ll hold them off, Steg. You head for the exit.”
    “What, hold off three of them?”
    “Yes. I’ll walk towards them. You turn and head for that door. Run when you hear me shout. Get aboard. Travel well. I will see you when you return.”
    “Sergeant, I cannot let you –“
    “That’s an order, Steg. From me, from the Acolytes. Now move.”
    Steg turned and walked steadily towards the exit that would take him up the ramp to board the star freighter. He heard Thomas move away, back down the corridor. Again the Imperial officer’s voice rang out.
    “Stop, both of you. Or I’ll fire.”
    Then came the shouted instruction from the drill sergeant. “Go!”
    Steg ran. He risked a quick look behind him and saw Thomas throw himself at the three Imperials. Steg ran forward through the exit. He bounded up the boarding ramp where a Rimerian purser was waiting. He handed over his travel documents.
    “About time. The Captain wants to seal the ship immediately you’re on board. Departure will be in minutes, if not seconds.” He directed a crew member to show Steg to his cabin. “We’ve already loaded your luggage.”
    Steg was startled to recognize the crew member; he was a Homeworlder.
    “Welcome to Well