Page 9 of Trak
A server approached with a cup which Trak accepted. He poured himself a splash oftaga.
“It is not our place to comment on our prince’s sex life,” declared Niir. His dark hair was streaked with gray and his skin bore many scars from his previous life as a hardened mercenary. “I have heard that other princes who were matched with human females are similarly challenged. This is a frightening transition for the humans.”
Trak looked up. “What did you hear?”
Niir shrugged a massive shoulder. “I spoke with an officer of the Delga Cruiser, who serves under Prince Lynk. He says Lynk’s female was very ill after space travel, and terribly frightened of him, but he managed to woo the female and they are now on good terms.”
“‘Woo’ the female?” asked Pizol. “What nonsense. These females agreed to do a job and they should do it. End of story.” He drained his cup and reached for the carafe.
“I told her I would send her home if that was what she wished,” said Trak. “I don’t know what she will decide, but I know that our attraction is mutual.”
“How do you know that, lad?” asked Niir.
“We kissed,” said Trak. “She enjoyed it. A lot. I am the one who broke it off.”
Yanc’s brows knitted. “Then why are youhere?”
“She asked for some space to think about her situation and so I left.” He raised a brow at his engineer, who was showing signs of cracking in his effort to avoid looking at the tentacled dancers. “Why don’t you go say hello to thoseOukks?We’re not leaving here for at least the next ten cycles.”
Yanc sent a quick, longing glance to the dancing pair. “Just the thought… You don’t know what it’s like.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, that pair may not even like Virilians.”
Niir looked to the metal-beamed ceiling. “You may as well speak with them and find out.”
“Oh look—their set is ending,” said Pizol with an amused grin. “They’re leaving and new dancers are arriving.” He waggled his brows at Yanc, who let out a curse, dropped histagacup on the table and hurried after theOukks.
“See?” said Pizol with a good-natured grin. “That’s how it works, Trak. You see what you want and go get it.”
“Or perhaps a bit more finesse is in order,” said Niir knowingly.
Trak raised a brow. “Such as?”
Niir shrugged. “Treat her to some luxury. Send her gifts, clothing, jewelry, exotic things she cannot get on Earth and will be dazzled by. It may ease the fear and pain ofbeing so far from home, and it certainly won’t dent your funds. Many of the things humans hold valuable are worthless to us. Like certain gems. There are moons made solid of them, but on Earth they are rare.” Niir took a sip oftaga, winced and put the cup down. “My colleague told me his prince showered his female with gifts, and he also took some time to get to know her.”
Trak leaned forward. “How?”
Niir blinked at him. “By taking her places, talking with her. Like what we’re doing.”
“Notlike what we’re doing.” Pizol waved a finger back and forth. “Bad idea.”
An idea was forming in Trak’s mind, thanks to Niir.Notthanks to Pizol. It was a good thing the male was a better first officer than he was a romantic advisor.
Trak had never had totryto win a female’s affection, making this sound like an interesting endeavor. “Niir, you’re brilliant.”
Pizol rolled his eyes. “This is doomed to fail.”
“And I would give the female the space she has requested,” added Niir. “Don’t push her. Let her wonder about you. Perhaps, even miss you.”
Trak wasn’t sure if Anna would miss him if he got blown out of an airlock and froze into space junk, but he knew what he had to do. He got up, leaving histagalargely untouched. “I will be staying in Sinno’s quarters. You may find me there.”
Pizol gave him a puzzled look. “You’re trying to win over this human’s affections by staying with your mistress? I’m no expert, but that doesn’t sound like the wisest course to me.”
“Ex-mistress.” Trak waved a hand. “She is off-station for the indefinite future. She won’t mind if I stay there.”
Niir and Pizol sent him skeptical looks, but he got up, feeling good. He strode from the noise and smells of the Miti Luti with a plan. It had to work.
Seven
The first delivery was a surprise. Metal trunks were brought in on levitating racks and loaded into one of the rooms off the main bedroom. Anna, who still didn’t have clothing, hid in the bathroom, peeking out through a crack until the racks were whisked away and the chamber closed up again. She went in to find the trunks etched with her name. She opened them to see a profusion of color. Fabrics burst from them—clothing of every sort imaginable. She opened them all, amazed by the contents. They were not modest ensembles, ranging from tight, to short, to obscenely skimpy things made only of thin, woven gold chain. All of them were impossibly beautiful, though. They were items made for a queen of a kingdom with high temperatures, where clothes were more decoration than practical. Anna wasn’t sure what she was, but a queen she was not.
