Page 38 of Grumpy Alien Bodyguard

VARNOK

Istand at Quinn's shoulder, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her small frame. My wound throbs beneath the hastily applied medi-patch, but I ignore it. Pain is just weakness leaving the body, as we Vakutans say.

What I can't ignore is Kallus Bruw's smug face across the table. His scales gleam under the artificial lighting, meticulously polished to highlight their reddish tint. He's dressed in what I assume is the height of galactic fashion—some ridiculous outfit with too many layers and not enough armor. Every few minutes, he checks his wrist chronometer, a gesture that makes my fingers itch to wrap around his throat.

This snake sent assassins after Quinn. After me. And here he sits, acting like a legitimate businessman.

Quinn's voice remains steady as she outlines another compromise proposal. Professional. Diplomatic. But I can sense the tension in her shoulders, see the slight tremor in her hands as she arranges her data tablets. The attack shook her more than she'll admit.

Kallus steeples his fingers, that infuriating smile never leaving his face. "A fascinating proposal, Ambassador Gellar.However, I believe we should wait for General Dowron's communication before proceeding further."

Of course he wants to wait. He knows what's coming.

My gaze shifts to Zantress. The Solari representative sits motionless, her expression serene. Too serene for someone whose entire world is about to be stripped away.

I lean down, my mouth close to Quinn's ear. "Something's off with Zantress," I whisper, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear. "She doesn't look worried at all."

Quinn's eyes flick toward the Solari representative. "I noticed," she murmurs back. "She hasn't contested a single point in the last hour. It's like she's just... waiting."

"For what?"

"That's what worries me."

The communication alert chimes, and the holographic display in the center of the table flickers to life. General Dowron's weathered face materializes, his pink scales looking paler than usual in the blue glow of the projection.

"Ambassador Gellar," he acknowledges with a nod. "Representatives." His eyes meet mine briefly. "Varnok."

I straighten my posture automatically. Old habits.

"I'll get straight to the point," Dowron continues. "The Alliance Council has reviewed Bruw Interstellar's petition for a Writ of Industrial Conscription regarding the mining operation on Jwoon X."

Kallus leans forward slightly, barely containing his anticipation.

"The writ has been granted."

Kallus's facesplits into a triumphant grin. He tries to contain it, schooling his features into something resemblinghumility, but the gleam in his eyes betrays him. The smug bastard got exactly what he wanted.

"Well," Kallus says, spreading his hands in a gesture of conciliation, "I understand this might seem like a setback for the Solari, but I assure you there are no hard feelings on my part." He turns to Zantress, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "In fact, I'm prepared to compensate your people for their mineral rights in the form of one hundred billion credits."

The number hangs in the air. Even I'm impressed despite myself. That's enough money to buy a small moon in some systems.

Dowron's holographic image nods approvingly. "A generous offer, considering the Writ means you're under no obligation to pay the Solari anything at all."

I study Zantress's face, searching for signs of anger, disappointment, anything. But her expression remains unnervingly placid as she rises from her seat.

"I will inform my people of these developments," she says, her voice as calm as still water. No rage. No protest. Just acceptance.

Something is definitely wrong here. The Solari speaker should be fighting tooth and nail for her people's home. Instead, she's walking away like she already knew the outcome. Like she has another plan.

As Zantress exits the room, Kallus turns his attention to Quinn. "Ambassador Gellar, thank you for being such a great mediator in this difficult situation."

Quinn's spine stiffens. "An odd thing to say to someone who you tried to have killed."

I clap my hand over my mouth, barely containing a bark of laughter at her directness. By the stars, this woman has more courage than most warriors I've fought alongside.

Kallus's scales seem to pale slightly. "Ambassador, I must protest these baseless accusations. I had nothing to do with any attempt on your life."

"Of course not," Quinn says, her voice sweet as poison. "And I'm not going to press charges against you, Mr. Bruw. You're right—I have no evidence."

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