Jaiya gulped deep breaths and gripped the steering wheel with her shaking hands as she tried to get a hold on the panic that was threatening to take over.
She had done it.
At first, when they’d sent the drones, she had thought she had made some mistake and they were going to attack. She quickly realized that wasn’t the case; they were guiding her to their main hangar bay. Her fighter needed to recharge before she could make another warp jump, and her weapons wouldn’t do enough damage to make an escape, so she’d decided to follow.
She didn’t miss the turrets aimed at her either.
Doubts gnawed at her.
Did she know enough Dzexet to be able to communicate with them? Did they have some sort of translator? She had noticed in battle that whenever they tried to speak CTA Common, there was always a slight delay before a strangely accented voice spoke.
It was too late to question whether or not she had made a mistake. She was now behind enemy lines, alone and disguised as a diplomat.
Who came up with this brilliant plan? That’s right, I did.
No longer wanting to prolong the introductions, Jaiya took her helmet off and carefully placed it on her steering wheel. Nervously, she combed her newly shortened hair, hoping to add life to its flattened state.
She removed her ID and mission holodisk, throwing it in her personal compartment and sealing it with a prick of her finger. Intruders would have to steal a drop of her blood in order to break in. Any entry by force would trigger the compartment’s self-destruct sequence.
She shot a glance at the space, its emptiness unsettling her. Were they worried about a human seeing Daextru vessels up close? Why was her fighter the only ship in the hangar?
From up above, the welcoming party looked like a sea of metallic scales and horns as intimidating as their chilling stares.
Suddenly she wanted to hide in her cockpit, revel in the safety of its enclosure, and hope to never have to face them in person, all at once.
Jaiya shuddered as she tried to bring herself into a calmer state, as if she was preparing herself for battle—a battle of politics instead of in the stars.
No turning back now.
Jaiya unlatched her harnesses with a swift precision that was instinctual after years of flying and climbed out of her cockpit. When her feet touched the ground, she turned and faced the approaching envoys.
Three males stepped forward to greet her. The remaining aliens stood at attention behind them, prepared to disable her if she presented a threat to their leaders.
When her gaze landed on the center male, a small gasp escaped her lips.
Standing tall was the most feared male in the Draextru army—the Black Hole.
Why is he here?
Metallic blue scales on his chest shimmered in the hangar’s light, and larger golden ones peaked from his tight black pants and wrapped around his neck. She didn’t miss the golden tail; All of the human files always seemed to forget that in their description. All cross-species conversations in the past years had occurred over ship comms, which only showed speakers from the chest up. His long hair was so dark blue; it was almost black as it came down to the middle of his chest. Two thin golden horns framed the top of his head in tight ribbed spirals, wound tight enough to appear straight. His bright aqua eyes met her own.
Startled to be caught studying him, and lost as to how to proceed, Jaiya shot her hand out for a handshake.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Jaiya blurted in CTA Common. She winced, remembering too late that she needed to speak Dzexet and deepen her voice to sound male.
They stared at her outstretched hand as if it was a weapon. The large obsidian male stepped forward, hand on his blaster pistol, ready to defend the familiar blue male.
Jaiya glanced at her hand in confusion before addressing him once more.
“Thank you for the invitation,” she repeated, but this time in Dzexet and a mellower tone. “I am Diplomat Aydin Lian, representing the Cosmic Trinity Alliance. I hope we can work together toward a common goal over the next few days.”
The lead male flexed his hand and hesitated, examining her features from head to toe. Slowly, he grabbed her hand, enclosing it in his.
“I am Prince Idris, standing leader of this starbase and diplomatic representative for the royal family.” His voice was like honey, exotic in his native tongue, different from the cocky male she had met on the battlefield. He locked his eyes on hers as he gave her hand a tight squeeze. “I hope we can put aside our differences and come to an understanding.”
His scaled hand felt warm, almost too hot to touch. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk. She squeezed his hand back, not caring that his dwarfed hers, as she tried to assert her dominance in their handshake.
Jaiya had met plenty of males who pulled this trick while moving up the ranks over the years. It was always the same move, a game to try and prove that she didn’t belong from the get-go. After protesting a few times to no avail, Jaiya had decided to play along, gaining vindictive pleasure from their shocked reactions.
