Dear Professor,
I hope you are well and busy. I myself have hitched a ride with the Brion military and am about to either be a part of an intergalactically important research team – once again, thanks for mentioning this – or an intergalactically important corpse.
Your ever-unlucky student,
Isolde.
She had just signed her ponderings when the Brions took her to a hangar so large she struggled to see where it ended. Almost all of it was filled with a huge and sharp-looking cruiser. That had to be the Forger. And if that was the Forger, what would the ship that housed this one look like?
You are so in trouble, Isolde thought.
CHAPTER THREE
Isolde
Actually the Triumphant looked pretty much like the Forger, only much, much bigger.
That did the ship no justice. They had to go past Mars to find the huge vessel patiently waiting for its master in the space between the red planet and Jupiter. There, it slowly turned and by the time they came up close Isolde could barely see a fraction of the ship’s real size even when she was looking straight at it.
It was so surreal she nearly forgot she was in space. With aliens. Alien warlords, to be precise, who now had to take her to an apparently very important planet. Isolde, who hadn’t even been on all the continents on Terra, suddenly felt very out of her depth.
At least so far, the Brions had left her alone. She knew the commander must have been on the Forger with them, but she had seen none of him and only one of the Brions had remained at her side to, in all likelihood, keep her from wandering around. He didn’t say much, answering and directing her with as many words as one might use to guide a dog.
Isolde stood by the huge screen that made up one whole wall of the room she was in and watched her home world disappearing from an angle she had never even dreamed of seeing it from before the mission to Rhea was announced. The screen was merely a projection, of course, not a real window, which would have been impractical. She also had to admire whatever it was that maintained the artificial gravity and kept the pressure inside the ship at a constant while the Forger sped past impossible distances like a race car.
Her expertise being culture and languages, she put it all the in category of tech magic.
She tried to keep her mind occupied with real, important issues. Like if the Brions would try to take revenge on her for making them play taxi to her. Would agent Perkins be alright? Or would he find a Brion under his bed later with a whispered “Commander Grothan sends his regards” as the last thing he’d ever hear? Probably not, of course, since if there was one thing you could trust a Brion to do, it was to settle his own disputes. The general would never actually send someone else to pay back for a slight towards him. But would he find the agent himself one day? Also, what was up with Rhea? Agent Perkins had made her think her mission there hadn’t been even close to a routine operation. If it was that important, why had they chosen her? Isolde was good at what she did, but surely there were others better suited? Her theory that Rhea was a small task Terra was making a big deal of was going up in smoke. This was a messed up situation she was in, for sure.
All that was what she should have theoretically been thinking about.
What her mind actually returned to was the commander. Grothan had done something to her. At least she dearly wished he had, because otherwise she was no better than any other love-struck fool and had fallen for the first alien hunk she met. Alright, the third, but still.
Yet, yet… the way he had looked at her made Isolde desperately long for him, or she could settle for a room with privacy and maybe a poster? A picture, even? A vid would be lovely, thank you.
University life didn’t serve dating possibilities on a platter, after all. And while Isolde knew there were plenty of guys who liked curvier girls like her, she didn’t exactly want to be someone’s fetish. Like, it was okay for a guy to like her, but not in the way of “Oh yeah, I always go for girls like you”. Girls like you. Curvy girls, not to say fatties. So after some real dates and some blind dates gone badly, she had sort of pushed the whole man-issue aside and focused on other things. It didn’t help she knew she had been named after a famous beauty. At least they hadn’t called her Helen.
But now… Grothan had brought back every fantasy she had ever had. All the time spent alone – it almost hurt between her legs as she thought of the commander. She was in space, but all she could think of was what that incredibly low voice would sound like in passion, if it would break when he whispered her name, his big frame heavy and strong and lean against hers and if she could hear his heart beat faster and faster as he sped up…#p#分页标题#e#
“Isolde Fenner,” the incredibly low voice said from behind her.
She later found it amusing that the first thought that flew through her head was, Oh gods almighty, don’t be a telepath.
Banishing the delicious images from her head, Isolde turned and found the object of her fantasies standing much closer than she had thought. The other Brion was gone. Er… um.
“Yes?” she said, cursing her voice for shaking a little.
Grothan cocked his head to one side, reminding Isolde of a predator scouting his surroundings.
“I hear fear,” the warrior said, taking a step back. Aww, Isolde’s treacherous libido purred. “You need not fear me, Isolde Fenner. I will not hurt you. None of my warriors will hurt you.”
Oh. That was a load off her mind. The Brions were known for their honor, so she could trust him to keep his word.
“Thank you,” she said. “I really am sorry for all this; I didn’t want to… to make trouble.”
He didn’t try to assure her it was no trouble at all. Instead, his posture stiffened and he seemed to listen again. Only Isolde hadn’t said anything this time.
“Your heart beats fast and your body temperature seems high for a human,” the commander said then, making Isolde’s heart beat even faster. Oh good grief, unfair! Stop listening to my bodily functions! “My experience with humans shows these are signs of illness. Do you require a healer, Isolde Fenner?”
His pronunciation of her name was surprisingly good, but it was getting kind of annoying, even if she did like hearing him say it. She was also infinitely grateful to him for speaking simplified Brionese with her. It would have been a nightmare to be stuck on an alien ship and not understand them.
“You don’t have to keep saying my full name, Commander. Just Isolde is fine. And um… no, I am not sick. I…”
She was aware she was now blushing fiercely. Something, which of course, didn’t go over his alien head. He frowned.
“Now your color is changing. Are you sure you do not want a healer?”
Oh yes. Tell them to find a cure for being attracted to you. Or you know, don’t. Just throw me over that console there and…
“No,” Isolde said more firmly. “It must just be the space and the ship. I have never left Terra before.” A part of that was even true. She quickly added, “But thank you again, Commander Grothan, for your concern.”
Something flashed in his eyes as she said that and before Isolde could think of how she had offended him, Grothan levelled his piercing gaze straight at her and all but growled, “Yes. I am very concerned about you. If you have any troubles, let one of my men know and they will hurry to aid you.”
That was… uncharacteristically kind of him, Isolde thought.
Then something even weirder happened. The alien warlord looked uncertain for a moment, almost hesitant. As quickly as the feeling had appeared, it was gone and his posture became rigid again.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said.
Well. That phrasing was odd, even if it seemed reasonable to Isolde that just like she was interested in her hosts, the commander would wonder about this strange human woman on his ship.
“What would you like to know, General?” she asked, unsure of how to address him. Would he prefer “General” or “Commander”? So far, he didn’t seem to mind either. Perhaps they were equal titles in his mind.
For an answer, he spoke something quickly into a device on his collar. Then he unslung the heavy Brion battle spear, their signature weapon – How much blood must have trickled off that, the thought shot through Isolde’s mind – and placed it against the wall. It was nearly as tall as he was. It also occurred to Isolde that he might have been trying to seem less threatening to her. This was just getting weird. With skepticism she didn’t usually possess, she had to wonder what had made the bloody general suddenly so keen to play nice.
The doors opened for a Brion – without the squares and the spear, much shorter – who delivered two cups and a decanter. He placed the items on the table and left quickly. Grothan didn’t even spare him a look, his gaze fixed on Isolde.
“Drink,” he instructed, taking a seat on a couch. Other than the table and two couches, the cavernous room was empty. Brions valued function. “It is safe for humans.”
Isolde wasn’t all that thirsty, but to refuse would have been foolish. She poured herself a cup, sitting opposite of him, feeling very conscious of the fact she was alone in a room with a man personally responsible for more people killed than she had ever met. She was also painfully aware of how his surprisingly calm, deep eyes seemed to caress her skin, making her bask in his attention.#p#分页标题#e#