Page 16 of Krin

It was obvious I couldn’t wander around freely like I thought. It was naïve to believe I could live on the ship. Especially since it seemed no one wanted me to be here. “Looks like there’s no way I’m ever going to be given a job with the crew,” I muttered, not realizing Aza could hear me.

“What skills do you have?” he asked.

I brushed my hands along the side of my head, eager to tell him about my experience in the military. “I’m good with computers. But I guess you knew that.” I pursed my lips before continuing. “Working with Luna base’s ground force, I was taught how to fight, shoot and collect intelligence.”

“You were a spy?” he asked, his face betraying his surprise.

I shrugged. “Kind of.” I was, but I wasn’t used to admitting it out loud. “I liked my job, and I was great at it.”

Aza smiled. “I have no doubt you are a skilled warrior.”

We entered a room through a set of huge double-doors. Skimming the room, there were areas covered with large, thick mats. The rest of the room had soft flooring like that found in the cleansing rooms.

The walls were adorned with what I presumed to be practice weapons, giving the space a sense of purpose and discipline.

Other than that, the room was plain, with no weights or gym equipment like I was used to. I wondered if Protectorate warriors were naturally sculpted with hardened muscle, or if they used other methods to maintain their awe-inspiring physiques.

I took a moment to stretch to the side as Aza unlaced his boots.

“Wait, you spar with nothing on your feet?” I asked, my voice filled with surprise wondering if it was a warrior thing, to toughen them up or something.

Aza stood and casually tossed his boots to the side. “I prefer bare feet when sparring. In battle, my claws are more lethal than the boots. Besides, this is more comfortable.”

To demonstrate, he gestured towards his furry feet, highlighting his clawed toes.

“I really hope you’re not planning on clawing me with those,” I half-joked, while my eyebrows shot to my hairline.

With a chuckle, he said, “Don’t worry. I will go easy on you.” He walked confidently to the center of the room, ready to spar.

I copied his movements and posture.

While I did train in combat and weapons at Luna base, I had been fortunate to avoid having to use them in a real battle. The whole point was for me to be like a ghost during my assignments. We were taught to only resort to force when we had no other choice.

My responsibilities at Luna base included protecting both individuals and military facilities, as well as infiltrating high-risk groups. There were several occasions where I had to gain access to places in order to steal back information.

Every time I faced danger, I always escaped unharmed. Just barely.

In comparison with the Protectorate warriors expertise in combat, my own skills didn’t even come close to their level of experience.

Aza watched me, waiting for me to make the first move.

The huge warrior, who was actually one of the slimmer aliens on the ship, gave me second thoughts about sparring with him.

“Do you mind if I ask where you’re from?” I asked, as we circled one another.

He grinned. “I was born on Alara, but my mother was Tulian and my father Alaran.” His eyes followed me closely the whole time.

“What part of you is Alaran?” I blurted without thinking, since he didn’t look at all like Trex, or the other blue-green males on the ship.

His brows wiggled up and down. “That’s a secret,” he laughed. With a playful tone, he added, “Just kidding! I am telepathic, like my father.”

He shrugged. “I’m only Alaran on the inside, I guess.”

Aza winked at me, and I gave my head a small shake.

I was fascinated by his tail, which kept drawing my gaze with its movements.

With trepidation, I doubted my ability to spar without getting hurt. There was no doubt Aza could easily kick my ass. Biting my lip, I hesitated, sizing him up.

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