CHAPTER 8
MIRIAMPerrigaul arranged to keep his hovercycle in storage at the docks. With that task done, he gave a list of supplies to Vasha. The man waited, his hand outstretched. His opal white quills went up, like a question.
Reluctantly, Perrigaul gave Vasha several credit tokens. She suspected that her grumpy red lizard wasn’t really stingy or a cheapskate, but money was security. He never talked much about what led him to being convicted and transported to a prison planet as a literal child, but Miriam could guess that it wasn’t nice. If having a dragon’s hoard of credits made Perrigaul feel safe, what was the harm? She regretted egging him on at the market, paying too much for the journal just to spite him.
“Load your things into cargo. I’ll take care of the list,” Vasha said, poc
