Page 9 of Her Alien Delegate
"Explain yourself," he said in warning.
"If we are seen together, it will be obvious that commissioner Broma is there. A couple of unGors together is normal, but a single unGor with more than one attendant, and one of your size is much too recognizable."
"I'll go," Vaquel stated.
"You will take me to the palace, where I will arrange the transfer of title for Commissioner Broma," Pheyal said pointedly to Romek, suspicion clear in his glare. He shifted his attention to me and gave a nod. "Do not go directly there. I'm not certain this isn't an attempt to separate us, and Romek may be bound to follow trill protocols without knowing who's pulling his ormete."
"I am not being pulled. I would have suggested going straight to the palace if I thought it was safe enough to do so," Romek objected. "In the storm, the clearest path is surrounded indangers that you must not run from but take cover and let the storm pass."
"He even starts to sound like them," Vaquel said with distrust when we were out of earshot of both Pheyal and Romek. "Pheyal suspects that we'll be followed and Romek has the desire to take the title from you through your failure to adapt to Trillume, but he is still convinced he wouldn't resort to killing you."
"You do not share his thoughts," I suspected.
"He wouldn't risk killing you himself, but I wouldn't rule out using the anti-human group to do it for him."
"I memorized the map before we landed, and even if someone knows we're going to the Blue District, we just need to make it to the dome and we'd be under the protection of the district as long as we are paying customers," I assured him.
"You are not prepared for a duel without risking your ormete," Vaquel warned about not taking the threat seriously enough.
"I do not need to use my ormete to win a duel; it was simply a requirement when dueling for commission."
"Forgive me," he said with a bow of his head. I hadn't realized the threat in my tone towards him, and I sighed. There was still work to be done on keeping my tone diplomatic.
"I will remind you that outside of AsunGor, dueling is not about honor here. Even contracts are not kept without threat of consequences. It is why we do not use implants, as we do not trust the technology to not be tainted with the lure of power." Our language translators were external only. And easily disposed of. Which I took the time to unclip mine and toss it to the ground before my boot crushed the device to crumbs. Vaquel did the same with his and we disappeared into the crowd.
"Where do you think you're going?" We were cut off by the imposing figure of a large trill and a sickly appearing garrant beast with four arms and a strange rippling beneath its hide.
The garrant growled before adding, "Do you think the princess will send someone to help you?"
I lifted a brow at that turn of truth. This was less about my support, and more about luring out their primary target.
"You'll be coming with us," the trill said while grabbing Vaquel.
"I fear you'll be disappointed to know that Broma isn't officially appointed yet. Taking him won't be much of a threat to make Princess Klemon come out of hiding."
"What's he saying?" the garrant deferred to the trill.
"He's saying catching an egg before it is fertilized is but a small meal, while a hatched egg will be a larger feast," the trill explained in their typical manner of verbose analogies. "But what do we care about keeping the egg alive?"
The garrant grunted, obviously not in its right mind to realize the trill didn't care if Princess Klemon was lured out or not. It was telling of the trill's motives, and of the garrant's.
Vaquel eyed me, knowing what these fools were giving away the more they talked. And clearly understanding they were mistaking him for me. They were looking for a large unGor such as Pheyal with a normal sized unGor such as myself, but they weren't expecting that I wasn't that much smaller than Pheyal. Tacticians were a much more toned and compact build than a warrior, but he was still strong compared to other species. Vaquel was probably reveling being mistaken for the future Commissioner of all of AsunGor, given the smirk on his face, he was enjoying this.
"Killing me does you no good," he stated with the confidence of any honorable warrior of AsunGor. In more ways than one, his words were bringing him even more joy, knowing that even if he were to die, they earned nothing with the real Broma free to go.
I would not allow such a sacrifice, but he was earning my respect for the offer, nonetheless.
That alone would earn him the first claim on my mate's delegation celebration. He would be alive to see the day I'm bonded and seeking more support for my mate.
"Quiet!" the trill snapped.
"Dead bait doesn't earn a meal," the garrant rightly regained his wits enough to challenge the trill.
It was time for my interjection. "Might I suggest a compromise? Take him to the Blue District, place him in a room under your credit, and hold him hostage. I'm sure the supporters will wish to trade to make sure he can get back to the palace to claim his title."
"And you'd let us take him?" the trill seemed rightfully unconvinced.
"Of course not," I placated him. "I will follow you to the Blue District, and make sure you are placing him in a room by himself without the option of harm him in your care. It's also beneficial to you, as you wouldn't be safe stuck in a room with him. He's liable to sacrifice himself to kill you, that's how mad he's known to be. It is for your safety as much as his own."
