Page 17 of Lorran
“Cookies, Mylo, and I brought enough to share.” He produced the container and held up a soft disk. “Would you like one? Yes? You do, I can tell.”
The male glowered, and Lorran felt like a fool taunting a wild creature several magnitudes too dangerous to be taunted. Other warriors whispered that the warlord’s second was a foundling with unnatural abilities, and they stayed their distance. Lorran had never bothered with such prattle. Those were the signs of a small mind. The warlord relied on the male, and Lorran trusted the warlord.
Yet Mylomon sat there, mood dark enough to cloak the entire ship in shadows, and Lorran held out a cookie like the biggest fool this side of the fregging nebula cluster. No wonder Seeran lectured him about focus and responsibility.
“No. I do not enjoy sweet foods,” Mylomon said. The glowering intensified, a true skill.
“More for me.” Lorran shoved the entire morsel in his mouth. “You are missing out.”
Clearly, this was the wrong course of action. The male’s good-natured disposition broke.
“Warrior, I do not want you here,” he said, his tone low and threatening. Everything in Lorran’s being snapped to attention. “I can perfectly conduct this mission on my own, as I have done several times before. You are only here as a favor to your brother, who is concerned that you lack focus. I see his concern is justified.”
“I have focus,” Lorran protested, crumbs falling from his mouth like a child.
“That is the incorrect response.”
“Thank you?”
Mylomon huffed. “Not a compliment. I see you do, indeed, lack focus, but also discipline. Your brother has coddled you and I will not.”
“Seeran does not coddle me.”
“Spoken like a coddled youngest male of three brothers.”
Mylomon’s words stung. “That attitude win you a lot of friends?”
As soon as the question left his mouth, Lorran wanted to claw back the words.
Mylomon took an inordinately long time to respond, and Lorranknewhe was the biggest fool this side of the entire fregging nebula cluster.
“I do not need friends.”
Lorran opened his mouth, no doubt to make the situation worse, but a chime from the shuttle’s computer saved him.
Lorran watched as Mylomon released the clamps and eased the ship to exit the hangar. “I am the assigned pilot. I should do this. Give me the helm.”
“No. That is unnecessary. I dislike the probability of failure to return to my mate if you pilot.”
“I am certified to pilot a shuttle.” Before his first reconnaissance mission, it was decided that Lorran needed to be able to transport himself. Smaller teams had a higher success rate. Both he and Ren, the other warrior who gathered intelligence, did basic pilot training. He was not skilled enough for combat flying, but he was more than capable of pointing a shuttle in the correct direction and keeping from crashing into asteroids.
“Perhaps you would be piloting if you were on time.”
“I came as soon as the warlord assigned me the mission.”
“With a stop for confections first. You are not even wearing armor.”
“The shuttle has armor, and I took my nephew rock-climbing. Should I have brought a child along?” Honestly, Lorran was surprised that Mylomon allowed such impertinence. Even though they were partners for the mission, Mylomon was the highest-ranking warrior in the clan, save the warlord. Lorran needed to mind himself and not wear on the warrior’s nerves.
He pulled out a tablet. “I see the pre-flight checklist has been completed.”
“We would not have departed otherwise,” Mylomon replied.
Yup, his patience was worn thin.
“What about this delivered item? The manifest does not list the contents,” Lorran said. The entry indicated a medic delivered the item.
“There was no delivery,” Mylomon said. After a brief hesitation, he added, “But I did leave the shuttle momentarily.”
