Chapter One
“Did they even get any kind of training for this job?”
“Yeah. I’d like to know that too. They’re aliens. What makes them qualified to work with us?”
“Brad, I’m not comfortable having Veslors around. I agree with the rest of the team. This is bullshit.”
Abby listened to the men on the tactical team talking quietly. She couldn’t have chosen a better time to see how Bradley Rogers would handle the situation. She kept still after stepping inside the room to avoid drawing attention, waiting for his response.
“We have to put up with them for now,” Rogers ground out. “That doesn’t mean we have to like it. I know I sure as hell don’t. It’s an insult that those aliens get to wear our uniforms. They’re fucking animals that walk on two legs.”
Abby clenched her teeth and held the sealed folder tighter. Her gaze darted to the far corner, where four Veslors sat. About a few hundred feet separated Rogers’s human team from the group of fighters.
Abby had learned a lot about the aliens who had once saved her life. Her friend Vivian had shared all kinds of facts about them—like how excellent their hearing could be. The Veslors had to have heard every word spoken against them. Not that it was obvious, since they looked unaware, seemingly busy cleaning their tactical blades.
She tried not to stare too hard at the Veslors. As far as aliens went, they were daunting at an average height of between six and a half to seven feet tall, with dense, muscular bodies and slightly animistic features. She liked their intensely exotic catlike eyes. Their very thin furred skin was a deep charcoal color. Humanoid in appearance from a distance, they had the ability to shift forms into fierce beasts.
The pointed ears were pretty cute.
“They think they’re hot shit,” Rogers went on. “I should send them down to the surface at night without working weapons. Let’s see how they’d do then.”
His seven-human team laughed along.
Abby advanced, furious. She’d made the surprise visit just to see how Bradley Rogers operated with his men. The two brief encounters that she’d already had with the team leader had made her dislike him. Worse, it wasn’t just Team One he was in charge of. He gave orders to the other tactical teams as well. He was probably spewing that same bullshit to them, too.
The first time they’d met was when he’d come to the office to meet with Defcon Red’s commander. He had flirted with her, thinking she was a mere clerk he might entice into his bed—before acting like a complete jackass when he realized exactly who she was.
He’d returned the following morning under the guise of wanting to apologize for his loss of temper. It had been the sorriest attempt ever. Instead, he’d made veiled insults about the events that had occurred on the Gorison Traveler.
She’d hoped he’d only be offensive when dealing with her.
Now she knew he was an asshole all the time. It wasn’t just women he looked down upon or rich people with connections. It was aliens, too. She loudly cleared her throat as she approached the team and stiffened her posture. It was easy to mask her emotions.
Rogers spun to face her and his upper lip curled in dislike, his gaze raking her from head to foot. “What do you want?”
“Commander Bills has sent you the latest reports from the planet,” she informed him, holding out the sealed folder. “I work for him now, remember? So in other words, I’m doing my job.”
He accepted the folder and brazenly stared at her breasts. Not that he could see much with her loose outfit. She knew it was just to show his contempt. He’d made his feelings clear that he didn’t like her…or how she’d helped tank the career of another jerk who Rogers admitted was one of his heroes.
“Delivered. You can get out of here. I’m sure Commander Bills has something for you to do.”
“Like suck his dick,” one of the team muttered.
She turned her head, finding the one who’d spoken. She lifted her gaze to give him a cold stare. “That’s not what I’m known for, Milts. I destroy careers by exposing assholes who don’t conform to fleet standards. That would include sexually harassing women. Saying crude things falls into that category.”
His smirk died and he glared back. He also appeared nervous, probably that she knew his name.
She wasn’t done. “Maybe I should suggest a refresher course for your team to the commander on proper conduct with women on fleet vessels?”
“Don’t threaten my men,” Rogers ordered. “We don’t want you anywhere near us.”
She fought back the urge to flip him off. Instead, she stepped closer. “You don’t give me orders, Rogers. I will give you some friendly advice, though.”
Rogers stepped closer, still glaring at her.
“The Veslors are here because United Earth requested a group of them to join your team. All those decision-makers who’re in control of your career path and paychecks would be furious if the Veslors requested to leave because they refuse to deal with your narrow-minded bullshit. I bet you’d get busted down to cleaning floors instead of being in charge of all the surface tactical teams. As a matter of fact, it could screw up the new trade treaty between our two races, enough that United Earth might decide to make an example out of you.
“Veslors have a vast supply of food, that they are now selling to some of the fleet-sanctioned stations. That makes them very important. They’re not just another bunch of stupid jerks wearing uniform. We already have plenty of those.” She took the time to make eye contact with every member of his team before meeting his gaze again. “Screw this up…you’ll find yourself ejected from the fleet and be lucky if you end up repairing sewer lines on some B-class station. Talk about a shit job.”
Rogers’s face turned red and his hands fisted at his sides, knuckles turning white.
“Also, if you’d taken your head out of your ass long enough to do some research, you’d know that Veslors don’t necessarily need weapons to kill…and if one of them dies, they frequently go into rages caused by grief. It’s typical in their culture to rip apart the one they hold responsible. Send them down to that planet without functioning weapons, and any of them who come back alive will hold you personally responsible. My money is on them coming back.”
Abby retreated a few steps, refusing to give him a chance to attack her from behind. “Oh, and by the way—they can hear you talking trash about them.”
Rogers blanched at her words and looked afraid for the first time. It served him right.
She turned her head, staring at the Veslors. All four of them were watching her, no longer focused on their task. She winked at them and then exited the training facility, a smile on her lips.
She made her way through the ship and entered Commander Bills’s offices, stepping inside his private one to let him know she’d returned.
He looked up from his desk. “Where did you go?”
“I delivered something for you.”
He sighed. “You should send a runner. That’s what they’re there for. We have two assigned to this office.”
“I like the exercise.”
Commander Howard Bills was a longtime friend of her parents, and he’d stood by her throughout the investigation of what had happened on the Gorison Traveler. He commanded Defcon Red, the fleet’s largest battle vessel. She appreciated that he hadn’t hesitated to hire her when she’d asked to become his personal assistant.