Page 44 of Her Alien Delegate
"I'm unable to discuss them at this time," I regretted to say.
"Of course you aren't," she snapped, and I heard her stomach grumble once more.
"As lovely as watching the stars from the observatory sounds, I must admit that I didn't have a single bite of the food from earlier. I prefer to eat after everyone else has had their fill, but now I'm certain waiting longer is not an option. Shall we grab a quick bite from my room's dispensary?"
"Your room has a dispensary?" she questioned in disbelief.
I nodded and proceeded to walk in the direction of the diplomatic suite. Every larger ship like this one had a room larger than even the commander's quarters for an occasion of having to host someone of my title and honor.
I was surprised, after hearing Chief Wren-Kal hadn't taken the position from Ther-Ol, that the diplomatic suite was available. Someone of his rank could have easily requested it for himself.
"I advise against returning to his room," Wren-Kal spoke up.
"He does not like the fact that it's the only room he's not allowed to enter without permission from the commander of the ship. As he does not have the commander's code, and the new protocols mean the code changes every time it's used once, that means he can't hack the room without informingthe commander of his misuse of power, damaging his honor," I explained.
Wren-Kal growled, and his eyes turned black. That was a troubling sign of him potentially rutting soon. The necia were a volatile species when their instincts took over. They were supposed to be taking medication to prevent such instances, but I had a feeling he wasn't taking his anymore.
"You could just invite him in," she suggested, and I smiled between them both.
"The chief is well aware the invite was for you alone. He will surely keep watch outside the door to make sure I don't abscond with you to my ship."
"Would you do that?" she asked with wide eyes.
I chuckled. "Do you want me to?" I replied smoothly.
Her cheeks blushed pink, and I took that as a sign that it wasn't off the table of options. How interesting.
But first we had to take care of that hunger making her stomach threaten her with a roar loud enough to echo down the hall.
Chapter fifteen
Evie
Ididn't want to go to the cafeteria, and after what Wren-Kal said about wanting my blood offering for a rut, I was definitely safer in the one room he wasn't allowed to hack into with his security clearances.
"Ah," Broma got my attention while gesturing to the double sliding door at the end of the hall with two security warriors outside. "It seems I'm not the only one to return to the room. Vaquel and Pheyal's escorts are here as well."
"Who?" I asked.
"Commissioner Pheyal is a highly requested clan of AsunGor for many diplomatic resolutions across the galaxy. He himself has been responsible for negotiations with galactic troublemakers to keep their business from spreading unchecked. Many of his adornments have been achieved from dueling victories with many lethal species," he boasted. "Vaquel is his closest brother, and he is remarkable in his healing methods, having learned from several planets during his diplomatic visits. Both have serviced AsunGor long enough to settle into a delegation or select their own priorities of how to serve AsunGor in the future. They currently choose to support my commission."
"That is a fancy way of saying his warriors are retired," Chief Wren-Kal mused with a smirk.
"A concept many species should consider as an earned privilege sooner than they do," he considered thoughtfully, but I could hear the undertones of accusation that the necia warriors do not appreciate their warriors as well as they could. "On AsunGor," he addressed me conversationally, "we do not wait until our warriors age into elders to gain the honor of choice. Any warrior may choose a new path without losing his prior deeds of worth."
"Any warrior?" Wren-Kal questioned just as casually, but I could see this was some kind of pissing contest between them. "Does that apply to your offspring as well?"
I glanced between them both, not quite understanding what he was trying to insinuate, but for the first time during theirverbal sparring, I saw Broma tense up. The smile he had been wearing up until then was tight, with his jaw flexing.
"No, I suppose the future brood of Commissioner of AsunGor would be required to duel for future leadership against every warrior that sought to claim the title for themselves by choice," Wren-Kal clarified for me, because there was no point in saying something out loud that they both knew the answer to. This whole conversation was for my benefit. A show.
"Your children wouldn't have a choice?" I asked him softly with concern.
"Commissioner Broma tried to abdicate his own title to his brother but was bound by his own laws to duel him," Wren-Kal explained, "He is called the Mad King because he cut his own brother's ormete at the root, then cut his own ormete off so he'd have no claim of retribution against him. An unGor willing to maim himself to make sure his own brother couldn't re-duel him for commission."
Broma turned away from me so I couldn't see his face and opened the door to his room without a word. My chest clenched on itself—feeling like what Wren-Kal had just recounted for him was a painful memory, or maybe that was just my way of rationalizing that he wasn't dangerous. That he wasn't as vicious as Wren-Kal made him out to be.
I rushed after him; the door shutting behind us before I could think clearly about following him into a room the security chief couldn't access without commander approval.
