Page 54 of A Mate For Matrix
“…And if this is a Confederation long-range vessel and not an Alluthan bait ship, then where’s your proof? That class was decommissioned over seven hundred cycles ago!” Seal snapped at his companion.
Matrix’s hand hovered over the weapon controls.
Then the video feed snapped on.
Matrix’s eyes flared.
On screen stood a figure with pale bluish-gray skin and ridged cheekbones. Behind him, another form loomed—dark, blood-red, massive, muscled, and grinning with far too many sharp teeth.
“Stand down, Zion warrior,” the gray-skinned male said, lifting his hands in a non-threatening gesture. “We’re not here to fight.”
But Matrix had already flinched back from the screen. His jaw clenched.
“Is that—?” Jana asked softly.
“A Razor-tooth Triterian—and one of those creatures I saw in my vision,” Matrix replied. “Triterians don’t travel with others. Or… they didn’t.”
The sharp-toothed alien on the screen grinned wider. His teeth gleamed in the artificial light. “Well, well. Looks like you’re not from around here—or now.” He leaned forward with curious amusement. “Are you lost, friend?” the Triterian asked.
Jana couldn’t help herself. She stared at the screen in awe and said, “Yes, we are, by about 850 years and a gazillion space miles—or however time-space continuum goes. I’ve only seen Back to the Future, so I don’t know all the scientific lingo.”
Matrix groaned.
The massive Triterian barked out a laugh. “You sound just like my daughter, Skeeter.” He turned to Seal. “Permission to board, Commander?”
Matrix started to protest—too late.
“Oh! We have our first visitor—not counting the weird, creepy vision ones you had, Matrix. I’ll go make some refreshments!” Jana offered brightly, already unbuckling her harness.
Matrix groaned louder, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I swear to the stars, if this ends in a diplomatic incident over cookies…”
Behind him, K-Nine muttered, “You get the red Triterian. Those guys are known for ripping out guts and asking questions later. I’ll take the gray dude.”
Matrix stood silently in the shadowed alcove just off the docking bay, arms folded, his eyes locked on the blinking panel that signaled the incoming shuttle’s approach. His neural link thrummed beneath his skin, feeding him real-time updates from The Nebulosity’s core systems, but his mind wasn’t focused on diagnostics.
He didn’t like this.
Not the docking. Not the guests. Definitely not the idea of Jana, sweet, naïve Jana, bustling around like she was hosting a diplomatic tea party while an unverified Triterian and an alien who looked suspiciously similar to the ones from his hellish mind-merge approached his ship.
K-Nine and I can control the ship from anywhere, he reminded himself. But it didn’t matter. His instincts had locked into battle mode the moment he saw Seal’s skin tone and build.
A shiver crawled down his spine, memory wrapping around him like ice: the Hive Queen’s voice echoed in his skull, her promises, her demands. The weight of future destruction.
We should be gone. Retreating. Running, Matrix thought.
K-Nine’s dry voice cut into his neural link like a well-timed slap. “And retreat to where, exactly? Until we know more about where—and when—we are, we could end up parked in the middle of a Crawler nest or a Triterian-held zone. I don’t know which would be worse.”
Matrix grimaced. He hated it when the wolfhound made sense.
“Noted,” he replied grimly. “Still don’t like it.”
A soft hiss echoed through the bay as the docking tube connected with a muted clang. The lights shifted to amber. The shuttle was secure.
Matrix exhaled, then discreetly tried to run a scan on the approaching vessel.
Denied.
