Tamed By the Alien Pirate by Celia Kyle Page 0,43
some very important people in the movement… perhaps you’d care to join me?”
“I’d be delighted.”
I gingerly stride over to Mal and follow him out the door into the ship’s stark white corridor. It’s so bright it hurts my eyes. Hopefully he won’t notice my soreness has interfered with my walk. Not that I’m complaining—it is the best kind of sore a woman can experience, after all.
He takes me to the lift, and we go up several decks. Mal turns a somber frown upon me when the doors open at our destination.
“Take care not to speak out of turn with these men. Even though they will not be physically in the room with us, you are never, ever, out of their reach. Is that clear?”
His voice has a slight tremble, and there’s a twitch near his temple. Dr. Mal, despite his seeming importance in the organization, is clearly frightened of his superiors. Then again, Earth First is populated with bigoted zealots. Those types of people, if you can call them such, are often short of temper and patience, particularly when dealing with underlings.
“Crystal clear, Dr. Mal. Don’t worry, I’m very good at staying quiet and just doing my job—provided, of course, I am suitably compensated.”
“I assure you, that will not be a problem. Neither will boredom. I have big plans for your metabolic expertise, Thrase. I might just be throwing you a prestige project at the conclusion of this meeting.”
He exits the lift, and I follow him. A pair of IHC Marines—really Star Crushers—march past us, giving Mal and myself a wide berth. Funny how their attitude has changed since I’ve been brought into the fold. They barely leer at my chest at all.
Dr. Mal bends his neck and places his eye over a retinal scanner. The electronic voice buzzes from the panel.
“Retinal scan complete. Welcome, Dr. Mal.”
The door slides upward into the ceiling, and then a second, sturdier set of doors slides to the sides.
“This room is obviously kept under lock and key, so to speak.”
Mal chuckles and gestures for me to precede him into the darkened room.
“It’s vital that this chamber not be compromised.”
“You don’t trust the Star Crushers?”
“I trust them to follow their own self-interests, but even that trust has its limits.”
I head inside the room, which isn’t overly large. There are half a dozen seats, comfortable looking but rather Spartan like the rest of the ship. After being aboard the wonderfully baroque work of art that is the Ancestral Queen, the environs seem downright sterile.
“Have a seat anywhere you like.” Mal takes his own advice and sits in the seat nearest to the door. He picks up a pair of VR goggles off the armrest of his seat and puts them on. I follow suit, sitting next to him since it would be weird if I didn’t.
“It may take a few minutes to synch up our system with theirs.”
My goggles come online, and then I start because a holoimage of the much-ballyhooed scarred man appears directly across from me.
“Or sometimes it doesn’t take long at all,” Mal says with a chuckle. Soon other people flicker into virtual existence, mostly older men, though there is a woman roughly ten years my senior. Given her cruel countenance, I doubt she’s going to be any more sympathetic than the rest of them.
My eyes widen when I see Vance Varone, the current CEO of Advanced Munitions Dynamics. The others I don’t recognize, and Dr. Mal does not make any introductions whatsoever.
A middle-aged man wearing an Alliance uniform leans forward and puts his arms on his knees, staring at me intently.
“It seems we have a new face here today.” Despite the seeming joviality of his comment, both his gray eyes and his tone are so cold it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Yes, Malcolm. May I present to you Thrase, formerly of Mars. She has already proven indispensable to my operations on M’Kal.”
“You mean your former operations,” the scarred man says with icy precision. I think he has a British accent, rare for the galaxy faring human race. Is he a native of Earth, rather than one of the star-born such as myself?
I notice Mal is afraid to even look in his direction, facing Malcolm the Alliance officer instead.
“Again, I offer my most humble apologies.” He bows his head, and there’s a slight tremble in his tone. “The Ancestral Queen has proven to be a most tenacious thorn in my side.”
“It is your job to deal with such interlopers. That’s why you’ve