Page 87 of The Alien's Private Redemption

Ae-cha looked uncomfortable. She hadn't enjoyed meeting Cooper or his human Mate. She certainly hadn't appreciated having someone from off the planet 'find' an ancient artifact that put him in the direct lineage of the Jade Princess.

Neither of them liked that their feuds on this planet may have been manufactured centuries ago on a distant planet as part of political games that had never mattered to them. Games that seemed to be continuing and reaching their intrusive tentacles back out to a planet that they'd never realized existed.

"If we find anything that might change what we know about our history, I suppose it will be of interest to both our peoples. I'll be sure to share it."

With that, she stood up and returned to her seat. Zoric turned to watch her go, only to catch movement from Dr. Torres. Dr. Phillips was reading a book she'd borrowed from one of the soldiers on board; apparently, they had a stash they traded around to get through the long hours between missions. Dr. Torres was laying still, like he'd settled down to sleep the way Angela had, but the movement of his eyes behind his lids gave him away.

With all the noise from the plane, he shouldn't have been able to hear Zoric and Ae-cha talking. They'd spoken so low, that they'd had to strain to hear each other, much less anybody else. Still, Zoric couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been eavesdropping. To what purpose, he didn't know, but the strangely scentless doctor made his hackles rise.

Zoric adjusted his hold on Angela and tried to get comfortable. He was tempted to try and sleep but it didn't feel safe for him to leave Angela unguarded. Instead, he studied what he could see from his seat.

The civilians who had boarded the plane after them were asleep in the same pose Angela had assumed and Zoric decided they had to be former military of some sort. They certainlyweren't groomed to what he assumed were a military standard, even if their posture proclaimed they should be.

Colonel Schuh was talking to some of the soldiers that had been helping them board and it looked like a casual conversation. Zoric was learning more about human body language and thought he could see the soldiers relax around the Colonel as the conversation went on. He couldn't hear what they were saying but it didn't seem to be a topic that he had to worry about.

Ae-cha was meditating and he had the feeling he could reach out and talk to her the way he had with his men when he was home. The almost subconscious buzz of a mind open to receiving conversation came from her direction and he was tempted to take the unspoken invitation and continue their conversation. Or maybe start a new one on a different topic. But he didn't. He wasn't sure if she knew she was issuing an invitation or if that was just how her people processed while they meditated.

Dr. Phillips looked like she was engrossed in her book but her thoughts were loud enough that he could tell she wasn't. Instead, she was blaming herself for becoming infected with the snake-thoughts that had pushed her to be less than professional. They'd never pushed her to do anything she hadn't already wanted to do but she usually held herself together better than that.

Zoric wondered if he should tell her she was projecting. Or that it wasn't her fault that she'd been targeted by whoever was infecting people with the brain snake thoughts. And that they actually appeared as snakes in the subconscious.

He didn't, though. He suspected she wouldn't want to hear that he could tell what she was thinking about.

Instead, he let his attention drift to Dr. Torres again. The neurologist was pretending to sleep in Zoric's blind spot. His presence almost unnoticeable except for the strange lack ofodor and the low buzz of a thinking brain. Dr. Torres wasn't projecting his thoughts the way Dr. Phillips was. In fact, if Zoric didn't know better, he'd assume Dr. Torres was deliberately shielding his thoughts.

Most humans didn't know how to shield their thoughts like that, though some of them did it naturally. They tended to be people who could hyper focus on a specific subject for years at a time, and who were occasionally considered a little odd. Which, he supposed, described Dr. Torres.

The metallic chamber of the cargo plane was a symphony of mechanical vibrations and sounds. The deep bass rumble of engines resonated through the frame, while the high-pitched whine of hydraulics created an ever-present counterpoint. Each shift in altitude brought a new chorus of creaks and groans from the metal structure. Cold air blasted from the vents overhead, creating pockets of chill that contrasted sharply with the heat radiating from the walls where the sun had been beating on them.

Zoric adjusted his hold on Angela, her steady breathing and warmth against him a comfort in the industrial environment. Through their Bond, he could feel the peaceful rhythm of her dreams, occasionally punctuated by small muscle twitches. Her presence felt like sunlight warming his scales, even as the cargo bay's temperature fluctuated around them.

Closing his eyes to meditate, Zoric let his senses expand outward. The metallic tang in the air separated into distinct notes - the sharp bite of fresh oil, the musty undertone of old grease, the ozone smell of active electronics. Different parts of the aircraft created unique vibration patterns that he could feel through his scales - the steady thrum of engines, the subtle shake of loose panels, the rhythmic pulse of various pumps and motors.

A slow tendril of thought oozed past his subconscious and Zoric reached out to grab it, but it slipped away like smoke through his fingers. The residue it left behind felt wrong - not physically sticky, but a psychic taint that clung to his awareness like oil on water. It left an almost-taste in the back of his throat, acrid and artificial.

The civilians who had boarded last sat unnaturally still, but their scents told a different story. Beneath their casual clothes lingered traces of gun oil and old sweat, the kind that came from long missions rather than civilian work. Even in sleep, their breathing followed the measured patterns of military training, their muscles maintaining a ready tension that civilians rarely achieved.

Dr. Torres remained the most unsettling presence. The space around him felt wrong - not just lacking scent, but actively void of it, as though something was deliberately erasing his presence. Sound seemed to bend around him, and the air currents in the cargo hold moved strangely in his vicinity, as if avoiding him.

Zoric watched them all for the remainder of the flight, his scales tingling with awareness of every subtle shift in the environment. The attempted intrusion into his thoughts had left him on edge, and he wasn't about to let his guard down again - not with Angela sleeping so vulnerably beside him.

It had to have come from someone on the plane. One of the civilians, maybe? They'd boarded with no explanation or introduction. Could they have been following Angela and talked their way onto the transport? They hadn't moved since they'd dropped off to sleep but that didn't mean they weren't capable of the same kind of subterfuge Dr. Torres was trying.

Zoric watched them for the rest of the flight, trying to track down the one responsible for the attempted intrusion in his thoughts.

Chapter 19

They landed in an airfield that Angela was familiar with, though she was smart enough not to announce that she knew exactly where they were. They were met by guards from the base as they came off the plane, and she heard some of them call out to the contractors who had hitched a ride home with them.

She was strangely optimistic after her nap on the plane. It was the most at-home she'd felt in ages and the best sleep she'd gotten since she'd been arrested. Her dream with Zoric didn't hurt either, though she found herself aching to complete it in person.

Zoric, on the other hand, was tense and hypervigilant as they disembarked and she hesitated to reach out and ask him why. It might have just been the interruption to their spontaneous shared dream but she didn't think so. Something had happened while she'd slept and he didn't want to talk about it.

They were led to a room for a debriefing and Colonel Schuh closed the door once everyone was inside. He didn't blink when Zoric and Ae-cha adjusted the chairs to fit their tails.

"We'll be staying here for a while," he announced without preamble. "An Orvax delegation will be meeting us in a day or so. Dr. Phillips, Dr. Torres, you have reservations and a driver to a local hotel. Private McBride, Zoric, you'll be staying on base. Ae-cha, you will also be staying on base, though you have the option of a private room or barracks."

"A private room would be best. As close to Angela and Zoric as can be managed."

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