Page 37 of Alien Legacy

I’m fine. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her crazy, unpredictable emotions. Especially with BoD. You ever been to Akurn? Maybe he’d give her a hint of where he came from this time.

No, I’ve never been to Akurn. Came his bland reply. Are you sure Abiditan cleared the way for us to meet his family? Akurns aren’t known for their tolerance of those not like them.

Good point. I’ll ask before we go through the Transkip.

She entered the compact chamber in the ship’s transportation room. The Transkip mirror was one of the biggest she’d ever seen. Instead of a classic body-length, single plane of reflective glass, the entire back wall of the chamber was a solid sheet reflecting the image of the room. With her three companions and Zamush already there, the added images made the room look crowded.

“Hmm, now that her highness is finally here, we can leave,” Abiditan announced as he turned to face his reflection.

Hey, how strange to see him in typical Akurn clothes.

He wore a long tunic in dark gray with half sleeves, the end reaching below his knees. Pantaloon pants were tucked into ankle-high, black-leather boots that curled at the tip of the toes. A wide black belt encircled his trim waist with one end folded over the other, the tassels fluttering when he moved.

While she’d seen him in formal Akurn attire before, she’d never seen him wear jewelry.

Encircling each wrist was a thick, golden band etched in elaborate designs. Dangling around his neck was a rope of gold that reached his midsection and ended in a pear-shaped black diamond as big as her thumbnail.

“Good thing you showed up, or we’d have left without you.” Qhasheik’s quip was without heat.

Out of the three of them, he wouldn’t leave her behind. Her eyes widened when she took in what he wore.

He was every bit as formally dressed as Abiditan was. Well, in his own way. Instead of being shirtless with only a pair of suspenders covering his nippleless chest, he’d put a shirt on. It was a simple pullover with short sleeves, tight enough to showcase his masculine chest. In hot, neon pink. Well, no one ever said Qhasheik was subtle. His tight leather pants were the same eggplant color as his skin and tucked into thick biker boots that reached the middle of his calves. At least his ever-present colorful suspenders were missing.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki turned to Abiditan. “Do you know where we’ll end up?” She wore the same one-piece suit Jelena did, except in burnt orange.

The self-sustaining material was a dream to move in and resisted tears and rips. It also had an all-around protective shield.

What Jelena loved the most about the one she wore was the hidden hood she could use to cover her head for added defense.

“Abiditan, just how welcome will we be with your family?” Zamush’s rough voice was low. “Akurns aren’t known for their tolerance of others.” He was dressed in black, and the shade put his pale complexion into sharp relief. Even his long overcoat was made of a supple leather that had to hold various weapons. The only other color on him was the pale blush on his full lips and his dual-colored turquoise-gold eyes.

She smiled as he repeated BoD’s earlier observation word for word.

Humph. Smart male. BoD conceded.

“We’ll be fine.” Abiditan murmured as he adjusted something on the Transkip controls with his back to the room.

“You’d better be sure about that.” Qhasheik rested his chin on his forefinger with a contemplative, straight face. “I’d hate to show up and get arrested for not having a Nutesh snare around my throat.” He growled. “I swore I’d never wear that badge of slavery ever again.”

Abiditan spun around with his mismatched eyes wide. “Who said anything about you having to wear that?”

Katsuki frowned. “You know, Shekie has a point. The rest of us aren’t Akurns. How will your elitist family react when they see us?” She waved a hand to include Jelena as well as Zamush.

Jelena gnawed on her lower lip.

Shther shivered on her shoulder as if he understood the conversation.

Don’t worry. BoD’s tone was firm. I’d never let them make you a slave.

She glanced at Zamush out of the corner of her eye.

His frown made the skin taut across his sharp cheekbones.

But what about the rest of them?

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll worry about that if it becomes necessary.

She folded her arms, letting the tension between her shoulders fade under the weight of the crossbow on her back. He was right. No need to entertain extra worries.

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