“What do you mean?” I try to see what I look like.
“He was trying to make you look like you’ve spent your entire life on Ethar.”
“At least her boots cover her toenails,” Jax says under his breath.
“Try putting up the cowl,” Wayra suggests, and Trey flips up the hood, covering my hair with the soft, gray leather.
“No, it looks like we’re trying to hide her hair,” Trey says, flipping the hood back down.
“We are trying to hide her hair. It makes her look Alameeda.”
“We’ll be treated with suspicion no matter what,” Trey says. “No one speaks of the mission. We spotted Alameeda violating the treaties while on holiday in the Forests of Omnicron. We are seeking safe passage as citizens of Rafe.”
Only moments later, a unit of well-armed, enormous soldiers crash through the brush, pointing weapons that look like tricked-out machine guns at us and shouting orders for us to surrender and kneel. Trey, Wayra, and Jax slowly drop to their knees, putting their hands behind their heads.
Weapons swing toward me, training on my heart with blue beams of light. I raise my chin, balling my hands into fist and putting them on my hips.
Scowling at Trey, I say between my teeth, “Honey! Are you going to let them speak to me like that?”
Wayra and Jax’s eyes become rounder. Trey’s eyes narrow as he says in a soft tone, “Kricket, these are Comantre soldiers—”
“I see them…and they’re ruining my holiday, sweetness,” I whine in a grating tone, trying to keep my hands clenched so no one sees them shaking. “Tell them that you told me that if I agreed to a commitment ceremony with you, that you’d take me to the Forest of Omnicron where I could see wild saers and herds of spixes!” I sneer at Trey, gesturing with a flick of my hand toward the soldiers who look stupefied in front of us. “THEN, you can tell them how YOUR men lost all MY luggage! Just because they saw some Alameeda thingies flying around.”
Turning to the soldiers in front of me, their pure pleasure at the spectacle I’m creating gives me the courage to continue. “They lost EVERYTHING! LOOK AT ME! I have to wear his clothes,” I complain, pulling at the beautiful tunic like it’s a rag.
“Kricket—” Trey tries again, but I cut him off.
“I’m telling my father—you know how important he is in Rafe. He’s going to be very upset,” I burst into tears and hide my face in my hands.
“Kitten—” Trey plays along.
“Don’t you Kitten me!” I hiss, taking my hands from my face. “I just want to go back to Rafe!” I stamp my foot. I peek at my tunic and notice blue laser beams are no longer dotting the front.
One of the soldiers walks over to Trey, motioning for him to get up. Trey rises, along with Wayra and Jax who are averting their eyes from me. The soldier asks Trey in a low tone, “Is this your first consort?”
“We’re from Rafe. We only get one consort,” Trey responds sourly, scowling at me.
“She’s part Alameeda,” the soldier says. It’s not a question.
“Yes, she is.”
“Only the good part!” I sneer at them, like a true waspish princess.
Hearing the Comantre soldiers cracking up, the one that seems to be in charge says in a low tone to Trey, “You poor wacker,” while looking at me and shaking his head. “You can’t commit to the young ones, no matter how beautiful they are.”
“I know, but look at her,” Trey says, gazing at me like I’m the most beautiful creature he’s ever set eyes on.
“Well, that’s the trap, isn’t it? No one told you that they change the instant you commit, did they?” He smirks. Trey shakes his head. “Ah well…you’ll have to make it up to her then. No going back now.”
“No going back now,” Trey agrees, almost to himself. I make a derisive sound, crossing my arms and looking at the sky.
“So you’ve had a hard go of it on your holiday?” the soldier asks.
“You could say that. We spotted Alameeda violating airspace. It made us cut our plans short. Our transport out isn’t supposed to arrive for another three days. Can’t understand what they were doing there.”
“Yeah, we saw them, too,” the soldier says. “That’s why we’ve doubled our patrols on the border. They haven’t acted aggressively toward us, but knowing them, that could change in an instant.”
“Trey Allairis of Rafe,” Trey introduces himself with a nod.
“Gideon Santis of Comantre,” the soldier replies by way of an introduction, inclining his head. “Looks like you could use a transport.”
“We would be in your debt,” Trey replies, smiling gratefully.
“We could take you back to Comantre Crosses. You’ll have to arrange something from there.”
“We have friends there. It should be no trouble arranging something.”
“You have identification?” Gideon asks, narrowing his green eyes at Trey.
“We do, but my consort has lost hers with her gear,” Trey lies easily, while producing metal tags that he detaches from the wide black belt on his waist.
Examining and scanning the tags with a handheld device, Gideon nods, before handing them back and saying, “Well, come with us then.” He pauses, looking at me while shaking his head and muttering, “You poor wacker.”
Wayra and Jax collect the gear while Trey walks to my side, putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me to his chest. Pressing my face to his uniform, I cry real tears, feeling my body shaking against his.
He whispers in my ear, “What did you call me?”
Searching my mind, I ask, “Sweetness?”
“No, before that?” I can hear the grin in his voice.
“Honey?” I ask, sniffling and pulling back to look in his eyes, seeing them soften as he looks at me.
“Yes…honey…you’ll have to tell me later what that is,” he says softly, pulling me back to his chest and rubbing my back soothingly. “Please let me take it from here. If you say more, your human upbringing may slip out.”
Nodding, I whisper, “I’m all tapped out. It’s your show now.”
“Good…I think.”
“We have an ALV on the ridge,” Gideon says, beckoning us to follow him. Trey nods, leaving his arm around my shoulder and pressing me to his side as we walk with the soldiers.
An enormous, black, bullet-shaped ship, the length of three El cars and the width of two, is poised on a rocky ledge. Its large cargo door is open on one side, acting as a ramp to enter the vehicle. Jump seats line the walls on either side of the ship. Leading me to one, Trey indicates that I should sit.
Gazing around like a tourist, I sit in the seat. Instantly, belts crisscross my chest, pinning me to the seatback. Gasping loudly, I look down wildly at the belts. I can see that I’ve drawn everyone’s attention when I look up again.
“She’s used to Hover Crims,” Trey says, excusing my behavior to the Comantre soldiers. Sitting down next to me, the belts on his seat instantly wrap around him, securing him to the seatback.
“Oh,” I say with a nervous smile. When I begin to wring my hands, Trey covers them with his own, squeezing gently. Jax sits on my other side, and Wayra sits directly across from me, like sentries.