Now, with a single act of unthinking carelessness, he'd ruined everything. Draycos's secret was gone, announced to the whole Orion Arm from a grubby mercenary changing room.
And as Draycos's secret crumbled, so did any hope for his people. Their enemies would silence him with ease now; and in five months the K'da and Shontine refugee fleet would arrive at their new home only to find a deadly ambush waiting.
They were dead. They were all dead. And Jack was the one who had killed them.
"Wow!" the kid beside Jack said, his eyes wide.
Jack focused on him. "You like my dragon?" he asked. The words came out with difficulty, his voice sounding in his ears like it was coming from deep inside a well.
"It's cool," the kid said. "I've never seen a tattoo that big before."
For a long heartbeat Jack just stared at him. And then, as abruptly as it had crumbled to dust, the whole thing uncrum-bled itself back together again.
He'd gotten used to Draycos riding his skin, all right. So used to it that he'd also forgotten what the K'da looked like stretched out back there. "Biggest one in the Orion Arm," he bragged. His voice sounded just fine now. "At least, that's what the guy said."
The kid shook his head in wonder, leaning forward for a better look. "How long did it take him to do it?" he asked.
"Couple of months," Jack improvised, hoping that wasn't a ridiculous number. He didn't have the faintest idea how long it took to put on a tattoo. "He did part of it every day until it was done."
The kid shook his head again. "Cool."
Jack frowned at him. The kid was a good head shorter than he was, with a wide, round face and ears that stuck out to the sides. Like a hot-air balloon with