the warriors to visit the pleasure houses there and launch shuttles undercover of the plasma storms just outside the system. They can slipstream and emerge here,” he pointed to a location well away from Senesta, “and begin the search.”
He looked through the holographic map directly at Nyek. “And by them, I mean you. You will be heading up this mission.”
Nyek nodded. “Of course, sir. I will order the helm to plot a course. We should be there within the day.”
It had been a long day of doing nothing and staying out of the way. After lunch Madison had been busy with meetings. Apparently, these ships did long-distance video-chat and she was working with a few of the other women taken by the Lathar and Cameron Murphy, the new president of earth on some kind of human-Latharian program.
Indra had caught a glimpse of the guy on a chat the other day and holy hell... he was a hottie. Not as much a hottie as Danaar’s new executive officer but with significantly less stick up his ass. Which was a pity. Not that Murphy had less of a stick up his ass, but that Nyek had so much of it. He had been fun to tease, that was for sure. She frowned as she realized he didn’t look at her like the other warriors did, like she was a snack they wanted to gobble up. He looked at her like he didn’t even notice she was a woman, and that just pissed her off even more. It shouldn’t. She shouldn’t care what Danaar’s second in command thought. But damn… a girl had some pride.
She shook off the thought, putting the sexy pain in the ass Lathar from her mind. Her lips curled upward as she meandered down the corridors, keeping her eyes open for her prey. The trick was to look like she wasn’t looking, and that drew the shy little critters into the open.
Scooting to the side, she let a squad of warriors pass by. Several of them slid glances her way so she eyeballed them, thumbs thrust into her belt and the hilt of her purloined battle dagger displayed prominently. It seemed word about her training with Aastan had gotten around, and fewer warriors seemed inclined to leer at her.
As if to prove her theory, as soon as each warrior spotted the dagger, they snapped their eyes to the front as though she didn’t exist. A smirk curved her lips. She’d noticed that about the Lathar. They seemed to have this fairytale in their heads about women being all sweet, delicate and fragile. As soon as they came across one who could look after herself, their brains fritzed, and they couldn’t cope.
“Pussies,” she muttered to herself as she pushed off from the wall. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a real woman if one bit them in the ass.”
She continued her hunt, peering into all the shadowed nooks and crannies in the walls. Unlike on the command deck, the corridors on the lower levels were less sparkly, utopian perfection with omnipresent lighting and more hard-wearing metal flooring and wall panels. She’d even seen some honest-to-god rivets and pipework two turns back. And, for her purposes, there were what looked like mouse-holes at regular intervals at floor level—if mice were the size of small dogs.
She grinned as a slight chirping heralded the arrival of her prey and took a quick sidestep to plaster herself against the wall next to one of the mouseholes. Staying motionless, she listened as the soft cheeping got louder, the sound almost curious. Her eyes fixed on the edge of the mousehole she watched as a small bot edged its way out, turning this way and that with its antennae extended as it checked the corridor for signs of life.
Satisfied the corridor was deserted, it edged the rest of the way out and began shuffling across the floor, leaving a gleaming trail in its wake. As far as she could work out, they were the Latharian equivalent of a cleaning bot. Totally automated, they usually only emerged when no one was about to clean so they didn’t get underfoot. They were round and with the antennae, they were really rather cute.
At least, they were a hell of a lot cuter than those freaky combat bots with the knives for fingers she’d seen during her initial tour of the ship. One of those she wouldn’t want to meet in a dark corridor, no matter what Danaar said about