Free Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run by Mason Elliott Page B

other hand, still twitching.
    Naero spun and slammed him into big oaf. The two goons went down in a tangle.
    Somehow the stunner went off again.
    Naero ducked the whir of ugly girl’s plasbaton and blocked a knee. Two palm heels to the face and a jab to the throat staggered the lander.
    Naero flipped her hard over one hip and left her moaning on the plascrete.
    Something whipped around her ankle. Big oaf’s weighted chain. She could smell his approach, a thick wafting wave of filth and unwashed male stench. He came at her like a crab. He lifted his spikeknucks to tag her.
    Naero half-stepped forward and side-kicked with her free leg, broke his nose again, splattered boils, and shattered one eye socket. A spin-heel kick to the temple put him down for good. She shook the chain off her ankle , resisting the hidden urge to finish them.
    “ Amateurs,” she muttered. “Ugly and dumb.” These landers weren’t worth killing–not that she’d ever taken a life.
    R ank scents of fresh human blood and other bodily fluids filled the air. Naero hadn’t broken a sweat. She brushed herself off, wiped her feet clean with some rags, and punched up the portcops to pick up the trash.
    It did feel rather good to work out part of her anger and frustration on some random goons.
    Then a skycar descended at the opening of the corridor alley in front of her. Things just kept getting weirder.
    At first she thought it might be a portcop patrol car . Instead she saw a big holo-spolymered limo with eight doors.
    That worried her a bit.
    The limo whispered a few centimeters off the ground. A door snapped open and a well-dressed foreign businessman leaned out. Polished shoes, gloved hands upon a jeweled cane. His face marked him in his forties, but he was probably older. His long, oiled, dark hair and short beard were immaculate, a scarlet holosilk turban covering most of his head. He could be a merchant prince, or perhaps even a Corps diplomat.
    “ Excuse me, miss,” he said, his elocution precise and powerful. “My driver spotted trouble. Are you in any need of assistance, my dear?”
    She waved. “No thanks. Just a misunderstanding.”
    “ I see.” He smiled, his admiration apparent. “Have you notified the authorities?”
    “ On their way. Thanks for your concern.”
    He bowed his head to her. “Not at all. Can we lift you anywhere? We’re headed to the docking bays.”
    Did she look that dumb?
    “ That’s all right.” Cheap thugs were easy to hire. This guy could have set the whole thing up. “Thanks once again.”
    “ Safe journey then,” he said.
    That threw her a little. Usually, Spacers were the only ones who said that to each other.
    This guy was obviously a lander, but he’d picked up a bit of their lingo somewhere. Before she could respond, the older gentleman pulled himself in and tapped with his cane. The door snapped shut. The skylimo rose straight up.
    Another spasm of pain ripped through her head. Naero clutched her skull with both hands and leaned her weight against a chain link fence to stay up. For some reason, she recalled her dream where the handsome green guy with the flowing golden hair rammed a sword into her brain.
    Then she considered how she needed to find a boyfriend at some point in the near future.
    More pain from that damn psy helmet. Zhen said she might suffer such attacks for weeks, perhaps even months. Possibly even hallucinations and bouts of delusions bordering on temporary insanity.
    Great. Something different to look forward to, at least.
    Good thing it hadn’t hit her during her little tussle with the locals. That might have been bad. She hit her gravwing and zipped back to the starport.
    She was already completely frazzled from the loss of her parents. A little induced madness might be a welcome distraction from that pain.
    Searching for Jan back on The Shinai , Naero walked in upon Janner and the usual: a gaggle of half-dressed lander girls.
    She gritted her teeth, smiled, and shook her