Page 16 of Trak (Virilian Mail Order Mates #1)

Twelve

“Have you thought about sending her back?”

Trak stared at his first officer in pure bafflement. “Why would I do that?”

“Because she hasn’t conceived, of course.” Pizol stared back as if the response was obvious.

“She’s had one cycle here,” he said. “This process takes time.”

Pizol leaned over the table. “Are you sure you’re doing it right?”

Since Trak had recently left Anna quite well satiated, and full of his seed, he replied with a withering look.

“Leave the lad be,” said Niir, ever the sensible one. “Conception is an art, more than a science.”

“Actually, it’s a science,” said Yanc, between chewing food. “Adding art is optional.”

Niir sighed. “It’s a wonder our race didn’t die out long ago.”

“What are you talking about?” Pizol said, spreading his arms. “We are irresistible to females everywhere.”

Trak took a swig of taga . “Are you on something or have you gone mad?”

“Both, I’d wager.” Niir gave Pizol a bland look, then his face went serious. “Look, the situation with the Belka-Tus needs to be addressed.”

“What situation?” Trak asked. “I contacted our fine, fellow Virilian citizen, Pella Rin, and he has agreed to pay what is owed to those great green lummoxes. I see nothing more to discuss.”

“Apparently they do.” Niir leaned back, stroking his chin. “Giru Limpa, their leader and ambassador to the RaX1 Quadrant, did not like your treatment of him.”

Trak dropped his cup with a thud. “My treatment of him? He muscled onto my ship, threatened me, then tried to buy the female under my care. He is fortunate I didn’t blow a hole straight through his scaly gut.”

“Yes, how fortunate it is that the weapon you found was out of charge,” murmured Niir, “or we would all find ourselves at war with the Belka-Tu people. Not ideal, when we’re trying to clean up our image.”

Pizol snorted and crossed his arms. “We’ve nothing to clean up,” he muttered.

“We do when we’re trading with respectable—and deep pocketed—systems,” corrected Trak. “It’s good business, at this point. We’ve outgrown our roles as space pirates.”

“Anyway, my surveillance teams have informed me that Giru Limpa has been looking for recruits willing to raid our storage hangars. I’ve taken the liberty to bring in fresh security. It was a bit pricey, but worth it if we don’t want to deal with theft.”

Trak nodded. “Anything else your teams have come back with?”

Niir cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. “Giru Limpa has been inquiring about your female.”

Trak’s stomach instantly clenched. “She’s not ‘my’ female.

As I’ve explained to her, she is her own female, whom I happen to be sexually involved with at the present time.

” He ignored the skeptical looks from his crew.

“That said, I don’t want any of those Belka-Tu guards anywhere near her.

At some point, she’ll be carrying my child.

If anything happens to her, it will be the end of Giru Limpa and anyone else who happens to be nearby. ”

“Of course, Trak.” Niir nodded gravely. “We all worry that the primal elements within us will come to the surface. I noticed that yours had roused a bit at your last meeting with Ambassador Limpa.”

“That was…a surprise.” Trak looked away.

Those red streaks Anna had glimpsed on his face had not been intentional.

Few things drew out the true, primal form of the Virilian male.

Protecting Anna had begun the process. That certainly alarmed him.

Thankfully it hadn’t progressed. That form was truly fearsome, and dangerous, and he doubted Anna would come near him again if she saw it.

“Keep guards on the entrance to our quadrant. Absolutely no one enters who is not approved.”

“Yes, sir,” said Niir.

“Are we done with this meeting?” asked Yanc. “Some of my engineer crew is arriving at the hangar for training. They’re going to learn how to charge a plasma nebulizer.”

Trak waved him off and Yanc left. Niir, Pizol and Trak rose from their seats. As they started to leave, five large Belka-Tu warriors stood in their path.

“What do you know?” Pizol crossed his arms. “We were just talking about your lot.”

“The Virilian who owes us credits has refused to pay.” Giru Limpa jutted his sizable jaw. “He claims he sent the funds and they were received.”

“Then hire an arbiter,” Trak said with a lazy swing of his hand. “This truly isn’t my problem.”

The massive Belka-Tu alien stepped up close and gazed down at Trak with hostility shining in his small black eyes.

“It is your problem.” Then he swung a fist and clipped Trak in the gut.

Air whooshed from him as he doubled over.

A meaty fist grabbed him by the straps and dragged him back up.

“Not laughing now, are you?” snarled Giru Limpa.

Trak couldn’t pull in a breath, let alone laugh. Niir and Pizol had drawn weapons and had them aimed squarely at the heads of two Belka-Tus. Meanwhile, the patrons, bartenders and dancers had all turned to watch the show, which was infinitely more interesting than whatever they’d been doing.

Giru Limpa released Trak and took a step back. “I know you can pay me, Virilian prince.”

“I can pay you many times over,” Trak wheezed, slowly standing upright again. “But I don’t pay debts I don’t make.”

A sly, dark smile crossed Giru’s face. “You will this time.” He jerked his head toward the exit and he and his guards strutted from the Miti Luti.

Niir and Pizol put their weapons away and everyone turned back to their business. The scene was already forgotten. Niir gave the two males an “I told you so” look.

Pizol shrugged. “Niir could hire someone to kill them.”

“We cannot kill them without strong provocation.” Niir ground his teeth. “It is not in our best interest to invite conflict with an ambassador, no matter how tempted we are to kill them.”

Trak shook his head and rubbed his sore belly.

“Stick to the plan. And let’s prepare to get off this station if things get too hot.

I’ll send out an ‘on call’ message to the rest of the crew while Yanc trains his people.

” He made a fist. “Niir, convince that spineless, worthless Virilian who owes them money to pay up. This is ridiculous.”

Niir nodded and the three of them split up.

Trak went to the ship to run a diagnostic and alert the rest of the crew of a potential departure.

He worried about Anna’s reaction to being bustled on board a cranky battleship that was in a constant state of repair.

The space station had been a safe choice because of the privacy and relative stability, but he hadn’t liked the look in Giru Limpa’s eyes one bit.

That alien was up to something and he hoped for everyone’s sake it didn’t have anything to do with Anna.