“My people had been debating whether to join the Sectors or not. There was a lot of resistance to subsuming ourselves into a larger whole. Ardannans are quite independent by nature.” Treylon flashed her a tight grin. “After the fleet returned home and shared the holos and trideos, and brought the one Fekkoi ship to survive—twenty-seven survivors of an entire civilization—opposition vanished overnight for the most part. We couldn’t wrap ourselves in the Sectors flag fast enough, because we’re next. And we know it. The Mawreg operate on a galactic time scale only they comprehend but at some point they’ll come for Ardanna and we want the Sectors fire power. We also want their allies, the only beings in the Universe the Mawreg fear.”
“The Mellureans? Are they even real? I always figured it was maybe a myth. You know, ancient sentients, all powerful, not human. Too good to be true.”
“Oh they exist all right,” Treylon assured her. “The Mellureans hold themselves aloof most of the time but they have been known to help the Sectors on occasion and when they do the Mawreg disappear. There are even individuals within the Sectors the Mellureans have claimed as friends? Allies? Whatever the relationship is, my government wants us to be on their good side and to do that we have to first be full participants in the Sectors.” He drank his coffee which had to be cold by now, in one gulp. “Sorry, probably much too serious a conversation for the breakfast table. But you did ask.”
Rosalie’s emotions were mixed. She was pleased he’d chosen to explain the background to her but the facts were terrifying. The stakes were so much higher than this silly week of fun and dating. Appetite gone, she pushed away her plate. Treylon rose. “I’ve got to get going. Enjoy your shopping trip.”
“When will you be through with the meeting?”
He paused at the threshold of the room. “We can have lunch at one of the seafood places along the beach. Meet me here at noon.”
“And then the beach?” she said.
“Volleyball, surfing, hang gliding—" His voice trailed off as he walked away from her down the hall to his room.
None of which I do, she thought in dismay. I’ll take a book or two. She remembered the brochures had shown comfy beach chairs with their own umbrellas and talked up the feelgood service with mini bars peppering the beach area. Vacation. This is probably the only vacation I’ll ever have in my entire life the way things are going so I need to enjoy it. Even if romance is off the menu. Too bad, he’s kinda nice when he forgets to be rude.
Chapter Three
The main street in the faux ‘village’ wasn’t busy at this early hour which suited Rosalie. Clutching her purse tightly, she walked along the storefronts. Taking a deep breath she walked into the Twilka Zabour boutique. Surely with so much to spend she could get something there. Imagine being the owner of a Twilka original.
The dream evaporated in an instant at the first price tag she checked. 2500 credits might be a fortune to her but clearly it was a drop in the bucket of what it would require to own anything by Twilka. Even a pair of earrings would eat up a big chunk of her winnings. She was retreating toward the door when a friendly sales associate approached. Rosalie was sure the woman had sized her up in a blink and could probably tell how much she’d paid for her thrifted sundress. I’ve got no business in this store. Her thought was panicky. Rosalie could stand her ground toe to toe with anyone in her questionable neighborhood on Earth but here she was out of her element.
“Hi and welcome to our store,” the salesperson said. “May I offer you an iced drink? It’s going to be warm out there today.”
“No, thank you, I’m just window shopping.” Rosalie backed away.
The associate leaned closer, a whiff of her expensive perfume drifting on the air. “I probably shouldn’t say this but I love your vintage look. Classy!”
She actually sounded sincere.
“We have a special sale on today, on the new swimsuit line. There are a few real steals. May I show you?”
Before she knew what happened, Rosalie was sipping a delicious nonalcoholic beverage and going through a rack of reasonably priced two-piece suits. The prints and colors were dramatic and she could tell they’d be figure flattering. And when she got home she could probably resell the suit for almost the new price, since it would be a Twilka. There were matching coverups as well and a jaunty hat to shade her face. She was coaxed into trying her favorite ensemble on and when she stood before the mirror she was consumed with the desire to own all three pieces. And to show Treylon what he was missing with his “just here to check the box” attitude. Common sense warred with her craving, however. She’d intended to use the 2500 credits to get at least one new dress for clubbing but her certificate wouldn’t stretch that far if she spent so much on this beach outfit. About to regretfully tell the salesperson no thank you, she paused as a breathtakingly debonair man walked into the shop and stopped, eyeing her with approval.
“You didn’t tell me we were hiring beautiful live models in the shops this week,” he chided the sales associate with a smile.
“Oh no, I’m a customer, well I’m window shopping today,” Rosalie said in a rush.
He held out his hand. “I know who you are, Miss Lenox. One of our gift certificate winners—congratulations! I’m Goff Delain, the general manager of the Resort Planet.”
“It’s so wonderful here,” she babbled, unable to believe she was meeting the man in person. “I mean, the party last night, the bungalow, the stores?—”
“I’m so pleased you’re finding everything to your liking,” he said graciously. Reaching out he snagged the price tag hanging from the coverup’s sleeve and a frown crossed his face.
“Lisstee,” he said to the sale associate in a chiding voice, “These are on the one-day manager’s special, remember? 50% off the sales price.”
Gamely the salesgirl nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Delain. I hadn’t checked all the specials sheets yet today. Ms. Lenox was an early customer.”
“Be sure it rings up with the right discount if Ms. Lenox decides to take it.” He gave Rosalie a bow and left the shop.
“Was he serious about the price?” Rosalie asked the associate in a near whisper.
“Oh yes, we run unannounced specials regularly,” she said without batting an eye.
“I—I’m using a gift certificate, does that matter?”
“No, it’s fine, we can handle those.”
