Page 15 of Desperate Measures

New Hope City’s spaceport was a hectic hive of activity. She was forced to shout over the din at the Chesran in charge of his ship’s cargo. It was just as well; she would have been shouting anyway after fifteen minutes of arguing.

The squat green-skinned alien whose ears were as big as his skull bared sharp teeth at her. “I told you, you have to take it up with the seller.”

“According to the shipping officer who personally supervised the loading of my order, all seals were intact! There are supposed to be twenty-five more handhelds in this bin.” Toni stood a full foot taller than the Chesran and had no qualms about looming over him in a threatening manner.

The Chesran had apparently never encountered a furious human woman before, a female Earther who had no problem stomping him into a green puddle. A woman who actually enjoyed engaging in major disputes. “Maybe he lied. It makes no matter to me whether you accept the cargo or not. We get paid in any case.”

She hated the idea of calling the officer who’d arranged for the first of supplies for a new school to serve the incoming refugees. It didn’t matter the head of Supplies and Requisitions was Dramok Rihep on Alpha Space Station, through whom she’d placed the order. It didn’t matter he was her sister’s fiancée and would put this slimeball pirate in his place.

What mattered was Toni wanted respect on her own terms. She wanted people to acknowledge she was no one to screw over. Starting with this asshole.

It was time to go nuclear. She pocketed her handheld and waded in.

“Look, you little wart. You’ll give me my full order, or I start ripping off parts until I’m happy again. Those ears, for instance, will make fine umbrellas. This onion you call a nose is next. I’ll tear out your lying tongue and use it to wipe my ass.”

As she seethed, she advanced on him, her hands hooked into claws. The Chesran at last recognized he might be in trouble. He backed up a few steps. His tone was still belligerent, though defensively so.

“Look, you lunatic Earther—”

“Oh, you haven’t seen lunatic. But you’ll feel it, I promise you.”

“Excuse me, Matara. May I be of some assistance?”

The calm voice behind her spoke English, in the typical slight slurring of a Kalquorian accent.

Great. Some would-be hero running to the rescue instead of letting an equally big, bad woman handle her own business. Not me, baby. Not Rosa Nichols’ daughter Antonia.

Toni whirled to give the good Samaritan his walking orders under no uncertain terms. Her angry words died on her lips.

He was big, all right. Bad? She wouldn’t have bet on it. It was an Imdiko’s gentle, open face confronting her, his expression earnest and concerned.

What a face, framed by waves of below-shoulder-length hair. It was as handsome as it was kind, boasting chiseled cheekbones, a straight, aristocratic nose, and full decadent lips. There was nothing lacking in his body either, which was clad in a green-trimmed black fleet uniform. He was magnificently muscled where armored padding failed to hide his physique.

Toni’s mind went blank as instant attraction froze the moment in a snapshot. She’d seen scores of stunning Kalquorians, had lusted after her share, but no one had ever left her gaping as this man did.

“Matara? Is this Chesran giving you difficulty?”

Chesran? What’s a Chesran?

The fog that had abruptly consumed her brain began to lift. The Chesran. Right. The thieving, lying little green shit she’d been determined to stomp then scrape from her shoe.

“He, uh, he won’t…the bin…seal broken…supplies for the children…”

Sweet prophets, she couldn’t get her mouth to work. She tore her gaze from the mesmerizing sight of the Imdiko and woke up in time to notice the Chesran turning his from her and stalking toward his ship.

Fury burned off the Kalquorian’s spell. “Oh no you don’t, you cheat. Get your ugly green ass back here and tell me where my handhelds are!” She stormed after him.

He hurried faster, breaking into a trot.

A black blur shot past them both, then resolved into the brain-breaking Imdiko, who stood glowering in the Chesran’s path. The alien yelped and jerked to a halt.

“Where is the woman’s merchandise?” The Kalquorian’s tone was quiet, but there was menace in it.

“I don’t…we had engine trouble,” the Chesran gasped. “It was a bumpy ride. Maybe the bin broke open and the missing pieces spilled out. I can have the cargo bay searched.”

“A very good idea. I take it most of the cargo has been offloaded? It shouldn’t take you more than…” the Imdiko considered. “Fifteen minutes to find how many, Matara?”

Toni fought a scowl. He was only trying to help, though his efforts were undermining her ability to solve her own problems. “Twenty-five.”

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