StarSet (The Warrior Prince's Claim - BBW Science Fiction Romance) (7 page)

side of it. Maybe the captain just had faith in her. She'd been a good officer for her stint under his charge thus far; there really wasn't any reason to doubt her, was there?

Everyone's ass was on line. The captain was probably considering the weight of that enough incentive for her to anchor herself into her Ps and Qs without need for a nudge from him. Pushing forward to her room to change into her common clothes, she lifted her head and resolved herself. She appreciated the notion that he was confident in her and he obviously was. He was considering her for a commendation, after all. Maybe it had only been her sense of manufactured guilt talking. Except, she'd only daydreamed of the prince, never acted on anything she felt.

Sweeping into the archives, Shala lowered her scanserv's alerts to avoid disrupting the scholarly types roaming the hall of books and slowly made her way down the stretching corridors.

That gut nudge was still troubling her, but she managed to brush it aside long enough to select a few books on loan to the city ship from the Telerans. It was best she read them now. They'd be taken back for the new Teleran libraries once they were planetside. Feeling eyes on her as she tucked the small pile of books under her arm, Shala paused before turning to take in the aisle around her, creasing a brow when she found only the endless rows of books pristinely perched and dusted on the folding shelves.

Her mind was obviously working overtime. After this, she'd do well to get some sleep. Heading down the aisle with the books in tow, she found a seat by the visi-panels, taking a moment to appreciate the simulated view of Teleran mountaintops from an ornately, paneled window.

The craftsmanship the faux window frame it emulated was of the finest quality and really set the Teleran people apart from a good deal of other, allied cultures. If they weren't so brusque to outsiders, and well, seemingly each other, she'd have visited their planet long before they'd been forced to evacuate.

A yawn escaping her, Shala cracked open the first book and relaxed into a pillowed reading seat. It was a tome that covered the reasoning behind various seasonal events, and she was fully sucked into its depths by the time she reached the fifth page.

Her head popping up at the feel of heat on her neck, Shala frowned and turned to glance around her, wanting very much to settle the matter of whether or not she was being watched once and for all. But she was met again with rows of books kept in impeccable condition, their spines staring out at her as pridefully as a book spine could.

Rubbing her eyes, she turned back to the book at hand and continued her reading, fascinating over the wealth of information in its depths. Not much shook her attention from it – she was in information-vacuum mode, hoovering the data with the greed of a newborn learning its world – but as scholarly types swept past, she lifted her head from time to time to watch the blur of them passing by.

It was comforting here. She hadn't been to an archive in some time. Shala was at her best when she was learning something. She'd figured that out about herself early on when university helped her to overcome a number of rudely aggressive alien girls who thought they might have a bit of fun attempting to humiliate her before they were taught what she was made of intellectually, just as rudely.

It was well past star set when Shala finally pried her eyes from the third book, making a mental note to finish it at her earliest opportunity. She felt good about the reads she'd consumed. All that was left were footnotes in a specialized historical tome. They'd be important, but Shala had the actual content to feed on for now. And she was all the more secure for having spent the time she did in the archive.

Her gut still tugged her though, and when thoughts of the memotic's containment crossed her mind, she decided to head back to the main deck and poke her head in, maybe give them a heads up to keep an extra scan trained on the formless girl.

Her gut feelings had never warned of false dangers before, and as much it would be great if they did now, she was better off leaving some sort of word that might help avert potential disaster.

She couldn't be sure what sort of disaster and truly might only be sensing the fallout to come when the enforcer learned that his daughter had been disembodied (which everyone was already imagining, dreading, and bracing themselves for). She'd feel better if she let her crew know something didn't feel right. She
did
have a bit of seership in her blood, and it did come out sometimes to warn of potential danger.

Returning the books to their shelves she made her way up deck, not bothering to change before she headed there. Everyone knew who she was, and she had no plans to stay for long. When she reached the second level, her gut was squeezing with alarm, and she sped her steps until she was standing before the guard station, frowning to find Temmen taking post there.

“Uh, hey, Temmen.”

The Alaran's golden eyes snapped up then instantly relaxed into a kind of boredom. He averted them and turned his attention back down to his scanserv, flicking through whatever digitized comic he'd recently downloaded, like she was barely even there. Not giving so much as a salutation in return.

“Is the captain in?”

“Do you think he'll see you in commoner's clothes?”

“Really, Temmen. It's important.”
“Can't be that important.”

Fuck, he was annoying. Incredibly self-satisfied. Someone was going to ream him a new one one of these days.

“Look, I've got a bad feeling that's stuck to me all day. Just tell him someone should keep another pair of eyes on the memotic scans... Make sure she stays put.”
Boredly looking up, the useless Alaran locked eyes with her.

“You're worrying yourself for nothing.”

“I'm... Dammit, Temmen. I've got a strong feeling about this.”

“According to the captain, you're not scheduled tonight, so...”

“What does
that
have to do with anything?”

“Have an extra look at the scans when you're scheduled.”

Unbelievable, this guy.

“Listen-”

“I don't-”

“I'm not scheduled tomorrow!”

Shala's hands clenched to fists.

“Enjoy your day off, Shala.”

This was going
absolutely
nowhere.

Fuming, Shala glared at him.

“Just give him the message will you?!”

She stormed off before he could respond, raging through the bay door when it wooshed open to her and closed behind her just as fast. Assholes like Temmen got people killed
all
the time. He had no true place on a city ship facing dangers of acquisitioner attacks. She hoped to stars that such as attack wasn't what was troubling her gut, but there wasn't much to be done about it now.

Cursing under her breath, she made her way back up to her quarters. She could just send word in the morning through someone who was “scheduled.” Hopefully, she'd manage to get some sleep before then. She did, indeed, have a long day ahead of her.

10

Discouraged, but fighting her way through it, Shala made her way back to her corridor, determined to get some sleep without being nagged by this damn feeling all night. Maybe, she was reading into things on a subconscious level.

That could be it right?

Things seemed to be going well, and that nagging gut thing was probably her psyche's way of trying to insert doom into the equation. Probably because she didn't believe deep down that this thing could play out well, without the diplomatic nightmare, and investigatory lash out most of them were dreading.

Raising her head as she made her way closer to her door, Shala stopped abruptly at the sight of the female Teleran waiting there. She knew this one. Not especially well, but if she was of the royal level, she wasn't quite sure why the girl would be waiting for her in front of her unit.

Stay positive.

Maybe she was part of the emissary team the prince had put together, though she doubted the woman would be reveling in the duty if she was. She'd made her displeasure with Shala quite clear that errant, drunken night when the officer had made her way down to the forbidden, royal deck.

“Jana, right?”

The girl's wide, violet eyes flashed a bit, and it was clear in that moment that she wasn't on an emissary mission of any kind. She had a bone to pick. What sort of bone? Shala wasn't yet sure. Tensing reactively, she cleared her throat and drew to a stop in front of her.

“What brings you all the way up here?”

The moon-skinned girl folded her arms over her chest, like she had to rein in her rage before she attempted to get a word out.

Lovely.

“As you're aware, we're a very insular culture for a reason.”
“Mhmm...”

Shala tilted her head a little, finding herself right at the edge of letting her inner bitch run free if the girl pushed her too far. She'd had just about enough bullshit for one night, and it was getting far too late for niceties.

“Outsiders aren't truly welcome, no matter the little arrangement you might have with the prince.”

Little
arrangement, huh? Cute.

“Listen-”

“No.
You
listen.”

Shala started at the quiver she heard in the female warrior's voice, and it struck her entirely odd in the instant. That feeling quickly became something else. Sympathy? Remorse? It couldn't be remorse, could it? She'd done nothing wrong. But then, they both knew why they were standing there, all but facing off with one another, didn't they? Even if Shala was trying to deny it to herself, she'd known it the moment she'd recognized the girl. But hadn't wanted to believe that she had a potential competitor for the prince's affections.

That sort of admission was a slippery slope that quickly led to others of that line, thoughts that she wouldn't be able to deny if she framed this little meeting that way. She couldn't afford to see tomorrow's event as anything more than a diplomatic mission.

Averting her eyes to her fingers, the moon-skinned girl fumbled her ring-laden digits, a soft clinking ringing the air.

“He's not like the others.”

Her eyes rose again to punctuate her words, and Shala saw a much more gentle side to the girl then, one that told her how deep the Teleran female's affections actually were. She'd probably been in love with the prince her entire life, or at least for most of it.

“I-”

“Please,” the girl asked, raising a hand. “I am not looking for your denial. No one here is blind to the fact; He has taken a liking to you. But there is question as to
your
true designs for him.”
Shala drew a breath.

“My true-”

“Designs. I know your attendance at Eiowa has much to do with putting out the potential fires your secret containment of the memotic has lit-”

“It's no secret.”

The girl eyed Shala a long time before continuing. It surprised the hell out of the officer, who was already thinking she'd never get a word in edgewise, that this hadn't been meant to be a conversation – but more a monologue.

“It isn't
now
.”

Her lips pursed, and she looked to her hands again before regaining her warrior posture.

“No. No it's not, but it was never
intended
to be a secret.”

“Oh no?”

The girl eyed her suspiciously.

“No.”

“Plenty of us think otherwise, and I am here to make it unequivocally clear to you that Prince Tarik is not a toy in some diplomatic game you and your contemporaries might be playing at the lofty, head table of allied forces.”

Shala's heart tugged at the sincerity and devotion in the girl's eyes despite her insulting tone.

“You may be welcomed by
some
of us, but you will need to
earn
your welcome with the rest. It's a very... How do you say it? Long order.”

“Tall.”

"Come again?

"
Tall
order."

“Yes.”

Drawing a stilling breath, Shala forced herself to reason. Even if this girl considered herself her enemy, her reasoning for it was pure, and hell, the prince
would
be a bargaining chip. Shala knew that as well as she knew anything. It's what had been eating at her beneath the surface of her composure. The captain would never side with the Telerans over the enforcer. Never. And though her own loyalties were meant for the allied forces, that reality stuck to her side like an iron thorn.

“I can offer you this, because I understand your position: I would not betray my pledge to act with honor amongst the people I serve. On this city ship, that focus is trained on the Teleran people.”

“As an officer, you have orders. You cannot make that kind of promise.”