“These damn robes,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing. “Thank you, Captain.”
Picking up the skirts of the flowing golden fabric that draped over her small, shapely form, Lady Jenna hurried up the ramp and disappeared inside the shuttle.
Malik watched her go. Mir-Barus moved past him, climbing the ramp in long strides. The Nandoon was so tall there was no risk of him tripping over the hem of his robes.
Ensuring his expression was neutral—although it was easy to look impassive when wearing a helmet that covered half his face—Malik turned to where the small party gathered at the base of the ramp. His gaze settled upon the clan-lord.
Cathal Mir-Brennan’s face was sterner than usual. “Look after my sister, Captain,” he instructed. “Much depends on these negotiations going well … but keep an eye out for anything suspicious, as we discussed.”
Malik nodded. He knew what was expected of him. “I will take all the necessary precautions, My Lord.” He paused then, nodding to the black-clad figure standing behind the clan-lord. “Lieutenant Anan will be your shadow while I’m away. I have briefed her on your requirements.”
Cathal’s mouth quirked. “Thank you, Captain. Thorough, as always.”
“Of course, My Lord,” Malik replied. The clan-lord might tease him over his seriousness, but Cathal Mir-Brennan headed one of the most powerful clans in this sector. It was Malik’s role to ensure his safety.
He then ducked his head, acknowledging the clan-lord’s wife and daughter, before turning on his heel and following the others into the shuttle.
Inside the gold-paneled entranceway, Malik hit a button and the ramp lifted with a hiss of hydraulics. Moments later, the deck beneath his feet started to vibrate. The pilots had just engaged the engines.
Striding out of the entranceway, Malik walked down a sleek, brightly lit corridor—between rows of berths—past the gleaming galley, which had booths set into the walls, and into the spacious passenger cabin behind the cockpit. Soothing Idralian pipe-music drifted out into the space.
Malik tensed. Just like the scent Desert Rose, the pipe-music took him back to his humble roots—something he didn’t need when in the company of the nobility.
Especially with the clan-lord’s sister nearby. Although they’d barely spoken more than a handful of words to each other over the years, Lady Jenna Mir-Brennan affected him.
She always had.
Ignoring the tightening in his gut, Malik glanced over at his team. Most of them—six of The Watch who would be joining them on this mission—had buckled themselves in, as had Mir-Barus. But the ambassador was digging through the suitcase she’d towed after her.
Malik stopped before her, irritation feathering through him. Why couldn’t the woman sit down and buckle herself in like everyone else? “We shall be leaving shortly, Your Excellency.”
He noted how Lady Jenna tensed at his use of the honorific. They weren’t yet at Aura Terminal, and she hadn’t yet stepped into her role as ambassador, but he insisted on using it. It was a mark of respect, and seeing that it annoyed her surprised him. It also made Malik want to continue using it.
“I know,” she muttered, snapping her case shut. She then cast him an imperious look. “Very well … please stow my case, Captain.”
Malik picked up her luggage and shoved it into the overhead compartment, while the ambassador sat down and started searching through her bag now.
“Have you forgotten something, Your Excellency?”
“Evidently,” she replied, her tone clipped. She didn’t look up from her riffling. “I was sure I’d packed my space-sickness pills.”
“We have some onboard,” he replied. “I shall retrieve them.”
3. A GREAT START
WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD, Malik retraced his steps to the galley, where he retrieved a glass of water and a bottle of space-sickness tablets. Lady Jenna wasn’t the only traveler he’d encountered whose stomach rebelled at space travel. This shuttle had a cabinet full of nausea medicine.
The task gave him a moment to compose himself. He was always careful to keep his visceral reaction to the clan-lord’s haughty sister buried, hidden from sight. However, her proximity unsettled him all the same.
Not for the first time, he wished Cathal had put someone else in charge of this mission.
Returning to the seating area, he passed Lady Jenna the water and tablets before lowering himself into a seat next to her. He’d just clicked his harness into place when the shuttle’s rumbling engines rose to a whine, and the craft rolled forward.
Small windows lined both sides of the seating area. In front of them, the hangar doors rolled open to reveal bright sunlight. Scorched red earth lay beyond, shimmering in the heat.
The shuttle cleared the doors, sliding out onto the launch pad beyond. As they lifted off, Lady Jenna swallowed a space-sickness tablet. Jaw flexing, she then shifted her attention to the window. Malik noted the light sheen of sweat covering her face. This was the first time he’d ever traveled with the woman; he hadn’t realized she disliked space travel. It wasn’t ideal in an ambassador, for her role called for frequent trips throughout the sector.
The shuttle gained height, and then, moments later, they were accelerating away from Mir-Brennan Tower. Craning his neck, Malik caught a glimpse of the retreating fortress—a wide, thin, gilded blade piercing the dusky sky—and then they were flying over a sea of rocky pinnacles and deep chasms. Idral possessed a brutal beauty. The planet consisted of one large mountainous continent studded with thriving towns and a great, deep ocean that pounded its rocky shores.
