Chapter 7
ZALIS
“Apparently, I have threatened a constable on a fringe planet,” the warlord said.
For a moment, Zalis’ mind spun, like a computer loading a complex program. “Law enforcement seemed unwilling to pursue the traffickers. Encouragement seemed appropriate,” he managed to say.
Paax gave Zalis a long look, as if scrutinizing his soul. “A little encouragement is never amiss.”
Zalis relaxed. “A Mahdfel pursuing the traffickers has a greater chance of success than a civilian effort.”
“Only in that a Mahdfel will not abandon the hunt.” The warlord braced his hands against the meeting table, watching the screen embedded into the surface.
“If you allow, I’ll find the traffickers and bring them to justice.” He wanted to do this, to give Gemma the justice she desired.
“No. For this, we will let the constable do her job.” Paax did not even look up from the screen as he delivered a devastating blow. Justice was the one thing he knew Gemma wanted and the one thing he felt able to give her.
Zalis tried to hide his disappointment, his posture tense, and delivered an overly formal, “Sir.”
“Your disappointment is surprising,” Paax said, “considering now you will have time to spend with your new mate.”
“They hurt my mate.”
The warlord dipped his head in that human gesture of agreement often used by males with human mates. “And your mate? Are you pleased with the situation? It was unexpected. If you do not wish for it, another warrior will volunteer.”
Zalis bristled at the idea of another male with Gemma. It was not born strictly out of possessiveness, though he did feel the jealous sting of possession. Gemma chose him. Him.
“Who? I demand to know who volunteered,” Zalis said.
“No one yet. Your response would have me believe that you are satisfied with the arrangement.”
“Yes, sir,” he agreed.
“Good. I have a new assignment for you. It is time to cease looking inward and turn our attention outward.”
Zalis admired the warlord. Before taking on the burden of leadership, Paax was a brilliant and well-respected scientist. Sometimes, Zalis feared, he could be too esoteric. Such as now. “I do not follow,” he said.
“We are establishing a base on Val Mori,” Paax said, which explained part of his prior statement.
Zalis remembered the small moon with the toxic atmosphere and mining colony. “The Suhlik attacked it.”
“Three years past. The mining company deemed it too risky and ceased operations, despite all the defense upgrades we installed. Your team’s new assignment is to secure the computer network.
Upgrade what you can. Replace what is necessary.
Remove any tracking and monitoring the corporation may have left behind. ”
Now Zalis understood what the warlord meant about looking in. For the last two years, the team had gathered intelligence within the system, mostly dealing with corruption. Corporations were loath to share secrets, but they loved nothing more than prying into the secrets of others.
“What is the purpose of this base and the estimated population?” Zalis asked. The needs of a research-focused base varied drastically from that of a conflict-focused base.
“Anticipate that Judgment’s population will be split. The base’s primary function will serve as a coordination point for defense for the system’s inner core. Anticipate that other clans will join our efforts.”
Not an insignificant project. Zalis mentally calculated all that it encompassed.
The existing computer network the mining company left behind would need more than a scrub and reset.
It would need to be upgraded, possibly replaced entirely, to handle all that would be requested.
Tasks as mundane as keeping the atmosphere system working, generating power, monitoring the environment of the base, as well as all the communication from a hundred, possibly a thousand fighter ships.
With families, there would be a need for entertainment feeds.
A luxury, yes, but easy to provide and it could be throttled when needed.
Considering all these factors, surely a more suitable location existed.
“Why not utilize the decommissioned base on Ertes Three?” Zalis asked. The base would need upgrades to modernize but there would be less construction and fewer environmental issues.
“The Council has control of that facility and I would prefer to avoid Council involvement.”
“Understandable.” Retrofitting the existing structures on Val Mori would be complex, but considering the recent trouble with corrupt council members, it would be worth the effort.
The warlord rattled off a list of instructions, which included building a team as he saw fit, and a timeline. The project would start in a handful of days.
“And my mate?” Zalis asked.
“Worried you’ll be apart?” Paax grinned, the expression cracking the warlord’s stern exterior.
Zalis had been a new recruit back when Paax was a scientist, before he became warlord. They had never been friends but Zalis admired the male for his intellect and focus. It was nice to see that version of Paax peek through, if only for a moment.
“Your mate can remain on board or go to the moon’s surface,” Paax said.
A moon that had already been attacked by Suhlik, but also had new defenses installed.
Zalis knew the shields would withstand a prolonged bombardment as he had worked on the installation.
Jaxar, the engineer overseeing the installation, also believed in overengineering.
The only thing stronger than the shield on Val Mori would be the shielding on the Judgment.
The warlord dismissed Zalis, leaving him to prioritize the many tasks for the project to succeed.
He was halfway to Gemma’s quarters when doubt slithered its way in.
He had been gone for some time and she had stated she was tired.
Surely she would be asleep. In a new environment, with new sounds.
The last thing she’d need would be a door opening unexpectedly.
If he asked for admittance, the notice from the alert could startle her out of slumber.
By the time he reached the cabin, he was certain that opening the door would ruin whatever peace she found. It would be better to wait until tomorrow. He’d let her sleep undisturbed and use the hours to pack his belongings.
Doubt was a stealthy foe, slipping into his thoughts and digging itself in too deeply to remove. What did he know of human females? Nothing practical. He had observed Thalia, Wyn, and Emmarae but did not know them well enough to be friends. Certainly not well enough to seek their guidance.
What if Gemma attempted to kiss him? He did not know how to kiss.
He had never pressed his mouth to another’s.
The activity must be pleasurable, given how often he saw other warriors kiss their mates.
The idea of it appealed, but what if he did it wrong?
Used too much force? People looked at him and they only saw a slab of muscle.
They assumed he was a mindless brute. He did not want to frighten Gemma or inadvertently hurt her.
Or worse, be a bad kisser.
GEMMA
One sleepless night later and Zalis was missing when Gemma finally stopped pretending to sleep and got out of bed.
No big deal, she told herself. He had things to do. Reports to file. Paperwork to push.
Doubt and anxiety were very much present and helpfully suggested that Zalis’ disappearing act could be the sign of a major problem.
Thanks, brain.
Gemma ambushed him with a shotgun engagement. They signed a license last night to make it official, so that was settled. No going back.
Unless Zalis changed his mind.
Had he changed his mind? Was she being ghosted? He just dumped her in this apartment that he clearly did not live in and vanished.
Not that it was a bad apartment. It was nice in a generic way and had about as much personality as a hotel room, furnished with the basics and not much else.
The general layout was a shared common space with a little nook for cooking and dining, which failed to impress a professional baker.
There were two bedrooms, one with an enormous bed and the other meant for a single person.
She had zero complaints about the bathroom with a massive Mahdfel-sized tub and shower.
It was empty. That was her major complaint. She slept poorly, waiting for Zalis to return and he never did.
Fortunately, Gemma didn’t have much time to brood about the empty apartment or what it meant that Zalis failed to return last night. Her own schedule had been commandeered by a surprising number of administrative tasks.
A knock at the door interrupted her staring contest with the screen built into the wall in the kitchenette area. Gemma deduced that the screen controlled the appliances, possibly even the organic matter replicator, which was fancy, but she was interested in the coffeemaker.
If she could get past the login screen.
A human woman with long, wavy hair, flanked by a wall of muscle greeted Gemma. Behind her stood two other women, one human and one Sangrin, and Emry.
“Hi. I’m Mercy, the Warlord’s wife, and I’m the welcoming committee.” The woman flashed a disarming smile. “This is your orientation.”
“Umm, I wasn’t expecting company.” Gemma was dressed in yesterday’s clothes, an outfit she borrowed from Emry. She hadn’t brushed her hair or done anything to prepare herself for the day.
“We’ve got a lot of ground to cover. First, security to get you into the system. Then supply and requisition, to outfit you with the things you need, followed by a five-point tour of the ship and amenities.” Mercy clapped her hands together and rubbed, like she was eager to begin.
“How much walking will there be? The doctor told me to stay off my feet.” A tour sounded super helpful but her ankle already ached. The two pain pills Zalis left for her last night had worn off long ago. Plus she didn’t want a lecture about not following orders from the grumpy doctor.