The Alliance Boxset Books 4-6

Chapter 10-2

Almost thirty minutes later, Destin could feel the burn in his arms and legs and knew he had a good workout. Walking along the edge of the access tunnel, he gazed down through the vents, occasionally catching sight of people moving about the ship. He reached the ladder to the last level and climbed up. At the end of the next vent, there was a larger service access where he could exit and drop down into the corridor.

Destin bent down, waiting for several people to pass by before he opened the access panel. He carefully lowered himself down and released the edge, dropping the remaining few feet to the floor. Reaching up, he grabbed the grate, jumped and released it in one motion so the magnetic latch would snap the grate closed. He strode down the hall to his living quarters and entered.

Glancing at the time, he noted he had plenty of time to shower before Sula returned. He might even meet her when she got off and they could get an early dinner. He removed his clothes and placed them in the cleaning unit, then stepped into the shower. Closing his eyes, he stood under the heavy mist for almost a minute before he shook his head at his wandering thoughts.

Exiting the shower, he waited for the air dryer to dry him before he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He reached for the comb and ran it through his hair. It was getting long again and he would need to get it cut. He preferred his hair short.

He turned when he heard the outer door open. A grin curved his lips. Sula was back early. Stepping toward the door, he paused when he heard her speaking to someone. Glancing down at the towel, he decided it would probably not be a good idea to walk out.

“I told you I would discover the information that was found pertaining to the missing women,” Sula was saying.

“We need to make sure each of them is accounted for,” a man’s voice responded.

“Andric, the records I accessed showed that eighteen are still unaccounted for,” Sula murmured, kicking off her shoes and wiggling her toes.

“What about the male you have befriended? Surely he can give you more information on the situation,” Andric demanded. “Father wants the females found before it is too late.”

“I am very much aware of what Father wants,” Sula stated in an exasperated tone.

“You are lucky he gave you a second chance to gather the information,” Andric said. “Have you accessed the human male’s files yet?”

Sula wanted to make a face at her brother, but knew it wouldn’t do anything but send him off on another tangent. She wanted to remind him that it was not her fault that the information was deleted off of Badrick’s computers before she could access them. Instead, she bit her lip to keep from aggravating him. He was also doing everything he could to search for the females – especially one in particular.

“No, I have not,” Sula replied in what she hoped was a calm voice.

“Why not? What are you waiting for? Can’t you break his access codes?” Andric demanded.

“If you want access to them so badly, why didn’t you have Father send you to Earth? You are just as good at breaking into computers as I am,” Sula snapped.

“Father thought that since you are a female it would work better. Both the Trivator and human males believe females to be less of a threat and would be less likely to suspect you. Why is it taking so long?” Andric pointed out.

Sula quickly hid her emotions. She would not let Andric know that his callous words had hurt her. The oldest out of all of them, he was also the most blunt. Drawing in a deep breath, she glared at the screen in her hands, wishing she had refused Andric’s transmission. He had been tossing questions at her every step of the way to Destin’s living quarters.

“I know what my assignment is, Andric. I do not answer to you, but to Father. I will discover any information I can about the missing humans and report it directly to him,” she replied in a cool tone.

“Badrick’s family is pressuring for retribution. They want the human male and Razor held accountable for his death,” Andric warned.

“I am well aware of Councilor Badrick’s family’s petition and their desire to invoke the Law of Retribution. Father is also aware that the fact that Razor is a Trivator, a member of the Alliance, and the Chancellor, would make it dangerous to allow any such action,” Sula reminded her brother.

“But not for the human,” Andric retorted. “Get the information, Sula. Father doesn’t care how you do it. Seduce the bastard if you have to, but get it.”

“I know what needs to be done, Andric,” Sula whispered, seeing the flash of grief on his face. “I also know why you are so desperate. As soon as I find out the locations of the missing humans, I will let you know. Be careful, brother. There are strange things happening in the galaxy.”

“Same to you, Sula,” Andric said with an expression of regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean the last part.”

“I know,” Sula replied with a tender smile. “But, it isn’t a bad idea,” she added with a mischievous grin before she ended the transmission.

Her heart hurt for her brother. While she loved to pick on him, she also knew the heavy burden he faced. Their father was ill. Sula did not miss noticing the tiredness in her father’s voice or the concern in her mother’s eyes. Nor had she missed the frequent visits from a long line of healers the last time she was home. She suspected that was one reason she had been sent to the Trivator home world, then to Earth. Her father wanted to right the wrong that had been done and he knew that she was not only very skilled in research, but she could also be trusted to help find the women. He had her other brothers doing the same. While she had not wanted to come at first, wishing Sirius had been assigned instead after her last disastrous encounter with the Trivators and Destin, she was now very thankful.

“Sounds like your brother is pretty determined that you ask me something,” Destin commented.

Sula jumped and clutched the tablet to her chest. Her face flushed and she stared at Destin with wide, startled eyes. A shiver ran through her when she saw the icy reserve in his eyes. Automatically, her gaze swept over his damp hair, bare shoulders, broad chest, and down to the towel that hung low around his hips. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms.

“I… Yes, Andric…,” Sula started to say before she bit her lip and looked down. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. It is just when we are together…” Her lips curved into a rueful smile. “I have trouble thinking of anything else.”

“I think you should talk to me now,” Destin said, straightening and walking over to pull out some clean clothes.

Sula watched his stiff movements. “Destin,” she whispered, placing the tablet on the table near the bed and walking over to him. Her hand ran down along his back. “It is not what you might think.”

She could feel him stiffen at her touch. Her mind played back the conversation she just had with her brother, seeing it from Destin’s point-of-view. If she had heard a conversation in reference to what was said as he had, she too would have felt betrayed and suspicious.

Destin turned toward her. “What should I think?” he asked, his jaw tight when she slid her hand up over his bare chest and tangled her fingers in his dark chest hair.

“That my father is mortified and devastated by Badrick’s betrayal. The Usoleum value family, and despite my desire to torture my brothers, I love them very much and they love me. What Badrick did was not only unthinkable to my people but harmful to our relationship with the Trivators and the Alliance. We depend on them for protection,” she explained in a soft, hesitant voice, staring up into his eyes. “We are a peaceful people, Destin. Others know that and would take advantage. Our strength is our logic and tactics, which makes us a valuable ally, but left to fare on our own, we would crumble against the brute force of our enemies.”

“Do you honestly expect me to believe your brother is desperate enough to want you to seduce me in order to save a bunch of women – alien women – who he doesn’t even know in order to keep the peace with the Trivators?” Destin demanded with a cynical expression.

Sula lifted her chin at his tone and her eyes flashed with determination. Without realizing it, she tugged at the hairs on his chest before pushing him backwards a step. Her lips were tight.

“I am Princess Jersula Ikera, only daughter of the Royal House of Usoleum, Councilor Select for the Alliance representative to the Earth, Destin Parks. One of those women sent out a message – a message that was intercepted by my older brother. He has become fixated on finding her. Her plea….” Sula’s eyes filled with tears and she swallowed. “Destin, please, my father is very ill and the weight of what Badrick did weighs heavily on his conscience. He wishes to find and return those women to their families. It is more than shame or pride; it is a matter of responsibility and honor. He is the one who assigned Badrick to your world. He cannot bring back those that died because of Badrick’s deception, but he can right this terrible wrong.”

Sula’s throat tightened on her admission. A low sob escaped her and she pulled her hands away from Destin to brush at the tears that had escaped. Drawing in a ragged breath, she started to turn away from him. She was an ugly crier. Her face always grew puffy, her nose would leak, and her eyes would turn almost black, making her look like a dead, bloated sea mammal that had washed up on shore.

A hiccup escaped her and she started crying harder when she felt his arms encircle her, drawing her against his chest. Now she was going to end up smearing her disgusting mucus all over him. Just the idea of it made her start to cry even harder which made her mad – at herself. All she wanted to do was escape into the ‘bathroom’, as she had started calling it now, and lock the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Destin asked quietly, stroking her back.

“Because… because… I keep forgetting when I am with you,” she wailed, frustrated at her uncharacteristic emotion. “I hate crying! I don’t… I don’t… cry.”

“That makes me feel even worse,” Destin teased with a sigh. “It sounded pretty bad and I’m a suspicious person by nature.”

“I… know,” Sula mumbled against his chest. “I had to deal with you once before when you weren’t very ni… nice to me, remember? I need to borrow your cover.”

Sula could feel her nose starting to drip. Reaching down, she pulled the towel from around Destin’s waist and stepped back out of his arms. She blew her nose into it, then glanced at Destin. The thought of him seeing her like this sent another wave of tears to her eyes.

“What is it? I’m not upset anymore,” Destin said, lifting a hand out to her.

“I don’t cry pretty,” Sula wailed again and turned on her heel to hurry into the bathroom.

She slammed her hand against the panel, closing the door behind her. Stepping over to the sink, she looked at her reflection. It was worse than she’d expected. Her nose looked like a big, blue blob. A long, uneven wail rose up in her throat and she buried her head in the towel.

“Sula…,” Destin said from the other side of the door. “Open the door…. Sweetheart, please, open the door. I believe you.”

“Go… go away!” Sula cried out, turning away from the mirror to sit on the toilet. “I’m not coming out until… until… I’m through making a fool of myself.”

“That could take a while,” Destin’s muttered words filtered through the thin metal.

Sula glared at the door before rising off the seat and taking three steps to it. Palming the door open, she blinked and jerked her head back when she saw Destin standing so close to it. With a toss of her head and a loud sniff, she gave him her dirtiest look.

“I heard that,” Sula informed him. Her bottom lip trembled when his expression softened. Afraid she was going to burst out crying again, she shook her head vehemently at him and closed the door again. She leaned her head against it and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Leave me alone, Destin.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Sula,” Destin’s muffled voice swore through the closed door.

“I… I… I… Oh, go away!” Sula demanded before a loud, hiccupping sob escaped her and she turned her back to the door, buried her head in the towel again, and slid down to the floor to have a good, old-fashion cry as Chelsea would say.