Page 2 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

He grunts, already turning back to the cockpit. “Smooth as space, ma’am. Crew’ll get you settled.”

The two flight attendants are waiting just inside the cabin. One’s human, petite with a bob of dark hair and a no-nonsense expression. The other’s a Vakutan, her scales a deep crimson, her ridges catching the light as she moves. She’s easily seven feet tall, and her uniform is tailored to accommodate her bulk,though it still looks like it’s one wrong move away from tearing at the seams.

“Ms. Gellar,” the human attendant says, her voice crisp. “I’m Clara. This is T’vek. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Clara. T’vek.” I nod at each of them, already slipping into my usual charm offensive. “So, how long have you two been flying together? You look like a well-oiled machine.”

Clara’s lips twitch, almost a smile. “Three years. T’vek’s the best co-worker I’ve ever had. Doesn’t complain, doesn’t steal my lunch, and can lift a shuttle engine with one hand.”

T’vek snorts, a deep rumble that shakes the air. “Clara exaggerates. It was half an engine.”

I laugh, leaning against the bulkhead. “Sounds like a dream team. So, what’s the gossip? Anything juicy happening on the Triumphant these days?”

Clara glances at T’vek, who shrugs her massive shoulders. “Not much,” Clara says. “Unless you count the time T’vek accidentally crushed the coffee machine.”

“It was fragile,” T’vek mutters, her ridges darkening. “Human technology is too delicate.”

“Says the woman who once punched a hull breach shut,” Clara shoots back, grinning now.

I raise an eyebrow. “You punched a hull breach shut?”

T’vek shrugs again. “It was a small breach.”

The engines hum louder, and the ship tilts slightly as it lifts off. I keep my eyes firmly on the attendants, avoiding the windows. The last thing I need is a bout of space sickness before we’ve even left the atmosphere.

“You ever get used to that?” I ask, gesturing vaguely toward the windows. “The whole ‘ship pointing straight up’ thing?”

T’vek shakes her head. “Never. I don’t look. It’s better that way.”

Clara nods in agreement. “First rule of space travel: don’t look out the window until you’re in the black.”

The ship levels out, and the blue of the sky fades to black, stars winking into existence like a thousand tiny eyes. I finally risk a glance out the window, the vastness of space stretching out before us. It’s breathtaking, as always.

The stars blur into streaks of light as the Triumphant makes the jump to superluminal speed. The hum of the engines shifts, deeper now, resonating in my chest.

“Here we go,” I say, leaning back in my seat. Armstrong awaits.

The flight attendants move to secure the cabin as alarms blare, their professionalism fraying at the edges. Clara's knuckles whiten around the seat restraints she's checking, and T'vek's ridges flush a deeper crimson.

I sink back into my seat, tapping my tablet to expand Zantress’s dossier. The Grolgath’s scaled face glares from the screen, her golden eyes unblinking. Records show she once stood for twelve hours in silent protest outside an IEC outpost after they detained a Solari youth for picking glow-moss outside Bruw’s mining perimeter. No demands, no speeches—just presence. And now three of her people are dead, and she wants blood. Or rather, the absence of it. Total withdrawal. Full accountability.

Find out what someone wants, and either grant it or withhold it.Dad’s voice echoes in my skull.That’s all diplomacy is, kid—controlled leverage.

I resist the urge to snort. Easy for him to say. He never had to negotiate with a zealot whose definition of “justice” involved dismantling a billion-credit operation bare-handed.

The ship lurches violently, throwing me against the harness so hard my teeth clack. The stars outside the viewport smear,then snap back into pinpoints. The artificial gravity stutters, making my stomach flip.

“What the hell was that?” I call toward the cockpit.

T’vek braces a clawed hand against the ceiling. “Unscheduled drop from superluminal.”

Clara stumbles down the aisle toward me. “Gravity well interference. Probably just a nav hiccup?—”

TheTriumphantjerks again, harder. Metal groans, and a shower of sparks erupts from the overhead console. The lights flicker, then stabilize into an ominous dim red. Emergency protocols. My nails dig into the armrests.

Captain Hargrove’s voice crackles over the comm.“Brace for impact. We’ve got—”A deafeningcrunchcuts him off, followed by the shriek of tearing metal. The ship slews sideways as klaxons wail.

Clara grabs my seatback, her knuckles bone-white. “That wasn’t a gravity well.”

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