Free Bonded (Soul Ties, #1) by Peyton Brittany Clarke Page A

place in the
entire base where she and the other non-commissioned officers could relax. 
“You make a living maintaining the system.”
    “Correction,
I make a living protecting others.”
    “Semantics,
six in one and half-dozen in the other.” 
    “I
still think your time with those gebeds of yours warped your mind.  They made
you soft.”
    She
tried not to wince at his sharp remark.  Though she was not one to gab about
her life, it didn't take long for people to find out she was involved with a
gebed.  They had a reputation of being scrawny book nerds with a penchant for
reading your mind.  Claiming to do it only to facilitate the search for
knowledge around here every body believed it to mind control with an obsession
for information.  Second only to the Political Guild, the gebeds held the most
power in the galaxy.
    “If
anything I am wiser,” she stated.  “Besides, unless the electorate expands
their mandate, gebeds will stick to their jobs- assimilating the knowledge of
new colonies and enforcing the Collective's Code and we will do our maintaining
the peace.  As for mechans, they may be cheap but they're not skilled
warriors.  No mechancan replace a real thinking person.  In short we have
nothing to worry about.”
    “By
the way, have you heard from them lately?”
    She
frowned.  “Where did that come from?”
    “Answer
the question.”
    “No. 
Why do you care?  You don't even like them.”
    “Do
you think you will?”
    She
rolled her eyes.  Sometimes he reminded her of a meddling parent.  “No.”
    “I
just need to know in case I have to bell your ass out of another booze soaked
self pity party.”
    “Screw
you.”
    “You're
not my type.”
    “Whatever,”
she said hating that he was right.  In fact, he warned her about dating best
friends.  Never mind the fact, that the other one for all she knew had dropped
off the face of the galaxy, refusing all communication.  “Is it a heavy burden
being the smart one?”
    “It
has its moments,” he grinned.
    “You
are too much.  You really are.”
    Two
short knocks at the door silenced their conversation.
    “Could
you get that?” she asked.
    “What
are your legs broken?” he asked walking by her.
    “I'm
busy,” she said gesturing to her disassembled weapon.  “I got to keep it
cleaned.”
    Garr
placed his hand on the door and leaned.  “What do you want?” he groused.
    “Message
for Tech. Sgt. Daroh,” the man replied.
    Garr
glanced her way. “Are you home?”
    “Who
is it from?” she asked attaching the last section.
    “Who
wants to know?” Garr asked. 
    “Visitors.”
    “What
kind?”
    “They
won't say,” the man replied.
    Zisa
shrugged her shoulders and replied, “You know the drill.” 
    As
a rule, she didn't respond to messages from people who couldn't identify
themselves.  She aimed the rifle at the wall in front of her.  She pulled the
trigger, it responded with a sharp click.
    Perfect, she thought smiling.
    “She
ain't home,” he replied opening the door then slamming it in the man's face. 
He strolled toward his belt and pistol on far right table.  “You know that
could have been important.”
    “Whatever.”
    Another
knock on the door, caused her to roll her eyes. 
    “What
is it?” she and Garr yelled.
    “They
said their message was urgent and that she should come immediately,” the man
replied.
    She
scratched her head.  Placing her rifle aside, she stood up and sauntered
towards the door.  “Thanks but I got this.”
    Bowing
graciously, Garr sat down. 
    “What
kind of visitors?” she asked standing in front of the door.  It was late and
she was in no mood to receive visitors. 
    “Diplomatic
I believe.  They look like gebeds,” he replied.
    Her
heart skipped a beat.  Feeling a bead of perspiration form on her brow, she
glanced at Garr.  His lips curved into a twisted grin. 
    She
sighed and closed her eyes. 
    Just
when things were starting to get back to normal, they decide to