Alien Paladin's Redemption - Mina Carter Page 0,6
and indicating that Nyek should follow.
He almost faltered as he fell into step. He’d expected to be ordered to report to a sub-commander somewhere, maybe a commander in charge of a department—he was rated for engineering, operations and science, so he could have been assigned to any of them—not the war commander himself.
“The war commander? Which commander holds this ship?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, as though he’d expected to be escorted up to the bridge on arrival.
At least it wasn’t in chains, but he could think of no reason why a war commander would want to see him.
“War Commander Danaar K’Vass.”
The reply was short, sweet and sent surprise rolling down Nyek’s spine. The K’Vass were an old and venerable clan, so entwined with the imperial line it was hard to differentiate the two. Both the emperor’s current heirs were K’Vass and rumor said a new prince had been found with K’Vass blood as well. Or Izaean. Scuttlebutt was a little hazy on the details.
Nyek nodded like it was the news he had expected. Internally, though, his thoughts raced. Why would Danaar K’Vass want to see him? He didn’t ask. To do so would have revealed his ignorance and no wise warrior gave away information another could use against them—a lesson he’d learned long before the Tev’tolath.
They passed warriors in the corridors, all of them pausing to salute. There was no mockery in their movements. The warrior escorting him must be a big deal, Nyek mused, a lot of his attention taken up admiring the ship. She was a newer S’kei class, newer than anything he’d ever served on. What would it be like to command a ship like this? And to have other warriors respect him as they appeared to now? He was under no illusions... as soon as someone saw his scars and realized he was Vesh, that respect would disappear. It always did.
They reached the bridge, the rest of the honor guard peeling away to allow Nyek and his escort to walk through the double doors onto the command deck unaccompanied.
For a moment, Nyek was struck dumb. He’d never been on the command deck of a ship this size before, only dreamed of it. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to sweep over the expansive deck, noting the warriors at their stations, their faces lit by the ghostly glow from their consoles. They didn’t look up, intent on their duties.
The view screen was large, filling the entire front wall of the deck, and currently showed the system outside. The full glory of the Olistaas triple suns was laid out before him, the delicate interplay between the gas giants beyond tracing swirls of pink and purple gases through the space between. It was a stunning spectacle, one of the wonders of the empire… but it didn’t hold Nyek’s attention for long. Turning, he looked across the assembled officers toward the commander’s chair.
It sat alone in glorious solitude in the middle of the deck, imposing in its stark lines and simplicity. Unlike the thrones of a Krynassis clutch queen or the fancy ornamentation of the Navarr, the Lathar saw no need in excessively showing off. Even the imperial crown was a plain band, un-decorated by jewels or other fripperies.
At the moment the chair was unoccupied, and a small group of people stood to the side. At the sight of them, Nyek couldn’t help the surprise that flowed over his features. There was a tall warrior, his short hair proclaiming his status as the war commander even though his manner and bearing would have done that for him. However, the commander didn’t hold Nyek’s attention but rather the two beings standing either side of him.
Nyek had seen females before, of course. As an imperial warrior, he’d been assigned to many ships where he’d come into contact with other species, so the curvy forms were nothing new. He’d seen rare Krynassis females—Oonat, Covashian and Lerexta—but while they were all undeniably female and beautiful in their own way, not one of them pole-axed him like the females in front of him.
All the other females he’d seen weren’t like him. Something had defined them as other—be it scales, the hint of a forked tongue, more breasts than he had hands, or a build only a heavy-worlder could find attractive. Things had marked them as not Lathar, and his interest in them had never progressed beyond academic.
But these females had none of that. They had skin clear of scales and