Page 54 of Alien's Challenge
“It is impressive,” he admitted. Imperial design, the ship’s class was somewhere between the standard prisoner cargo vessel and the flagship of the fleet. It was, in other words, suitable for the disgraced grandchild of the emperor.
He could not wait to show his mate the nest he had built. Initially, he required shelter that could be secured, and the Imperial ship fit his needs. The improvements he made since then? They were for more than survival. He transformed the ship from functional into a comfortable nest for his mate, even though he did not realize it at the time.
More than simply displaying his nest-building skills, he craved a taste of his mate. They had precious little alone time since leaving Falsespire, and he wanted her in his bed. Now.
“Has he told you how he crashed that ship and escaped custody?” Perrigaul asked, interrupting Faris’ thoughts.
Alice tugged on his sleeve. “Don’t leave me hanging. Explain.”
The vehicle climbed to the small plateau where the ship rested and came to a halt.
“This is the prison cargo vessel that brought us to this place,” he said.
“That’s a prison ship.” Her tone sounded less than impressed.
“Indeed. It is most secure.” He strode up the ramp to the airlock.
“So secure that you crashed it,” Alice said, following.
“I was still Owenfaris, fourth child of the Eternal House of Nakkon.” He winked. “The crew failed to update the ship’s AI, and members of the Imperial family are ranking officers. The prisoners rebelled, I locked the crew out of the controls, we crashed, and then we were free.”
“That’s horrible,” she said, because she was compassionate.
Faris frowned. The events had been horrible, but many years separated him from the smoke and chaos of the crash. “It was long ago.”
“Perrigaul was there. You said you bought him for a pair of boots.”
“He was there. Rand too. We were on the same transport ship.” He ran a hand up the back of his head, fluffing his quills. “There are better things to speak of. Let me show you our nest.”
“I will unload the vehicle. Do not mind me,” Perrigaul grumbled.
Faris ignored the male.
Little remained of the ship’s original design. But for upgrades, the helm was largely untouched. The officer cabins had been combined to form larger quarters. The galley and mess hall had been refurbished into a comfortable kitchen and living space. Water cleansing units replaced most of the original sonic units.
Originally, prisoners had been corralled into large holding cells. No facilities. Minimal water and food.
It was a short journey, the authorities said, not a luxury cruise. Prisoners could go a day or two without water.
Faris ripped out the entire area down to the support beams. Now it served partially as a workshop and the rest an empty cargo bay.
“What is that?” She pointed to a large gray box standing.
“A stasis pod,” he said.
“Why do you have such a hateful thing?” Her voice rose in pitch.
His mate was upset. Did she think he trafficked sentient beings? He placed a hand on her shoulder for reassurance.
“It was part of the original equipment. I keep it for medical reasons.”
“Medical reasons.” Her tone made it clear that she did not believe him.
He had gutted most of the original features of the ship, but not this one. He understood her skepticism.
“The nearest medical clinic is an hour away. Yes, medical reasons.”
“Fine. I still hate it, though.”
