Free Quit by Viola Grace Page A

through the halls and finger-combed her hair. She had cropped it after Alyla was taken from her. If she didn’t have to fuss with her locks, she would have more time with her daughter. Even the minutes counted.
    The arrivals bay had one shuttle. She paused when she identified the weaponry mounted to the exterior. That was one serious vehicle.
    There were two guards that barred her way.
    “I am here to meet someone?”
    The men had a grey-mahogany cast to their skin. They looked at each other and nodded. One spoke in a soft voice into his wrist unit. A voice answered, and the shuttle disgorged a man who bore only a passing resemblance to his guards.
    It was only her fatigue that kept her from stepping back as the man approached her.
    He was a solid six inches taller than his guards, had a darker cast to his skin, and marks similar to tattoos moved under his skin.
    His clothing screamed wealth, good taste and power. A dark tunic made of silk, tightly woven black pants, highly polished boots and an embroidered vest with a high collar, and a hem that brushed his ankles flowing around him in a glitter and gleam of embroidery.
    All the skin she could see had the same moving designs, but it was the flat black headpiece with woven strands of metal and a central glowing stone that caught her attention. He was definitely in charge of something.
    “Recruiter?” He looked her up and down.
    She suddenly was wishing that she had grabbed her formal robes and good bodysuit for this meeting.
    “Yes. Minerva Twill, at your service.” She smiled tightly and bowed as she had been trained to do.
    “Emissary Imbolt Kei Zanicon. I am honoured to have been invited to this system. I was told that you would take me to the commander.”
    She blinked. “Oh. Of course. Please, come this way, Emissary.”
    She turned, swayed and straightened. He caught her by the elbow.
    “You are exhausted.”
    She smiled tightly. “I have a raucous life. Rarely a dull moment.”
    He nodded and searched her features.
    She stared at him, hypnotized by the movement of the tattoos that alternately highlighted and obscured his eyes. His nose appeared to be a wide blade, and his lips clear cut, but as she stared she swayed again, darkness crept over her and took her under.
     
    * * * *
     
    Imbolt looked at the woman in his arms. He had his doubts that she could have managed to have his child, but Zanicon told him that she had been stronger. She was grieving for what was taken and what wasn’t yet hers again. The feeling of loss had taken over, and she had no one to share her concerns with.
    He sighed and carried her through the base. His guards were for show. Only a fool would attack him.
    He followed her scent to her quarters but was surprised to end up in medical. The medic on duty got to her feet, but he shook his head. “She is fine, just tired.”
    He looked around. “Where is she?”
    “She? Oh, you mean... oh wow. This way, sir.” The medic walked him through the main chamber and into an alcove in the back. There was a chair with weird blades on the bottom, a data pad and the tank with his daughter floating in it.
    He turned with the small Terran in his arms and settled carefully into the chair. He arranged her so that she was leaning against his shoulder, and he picked up the data pad.
    With a few touches, he brought up the last story and began to read the words. It was a morality tale about doing what your parents told you or a beast would wreck your day. He enjoyed it, and with the woman whose genes were percolating within his daughter, he sat and read tale after tale.
     
    * * * *
     
    “... and she put the slipper on her foot, and it fit--oh, I can see where this is going. Who knew that footwear was part of Terran courtship?—the prince declared her his true love and he would have no other. They were wed in a lovely ceremony and lived happily ever after.”
    The low, rumbling voice reading the fairy tales was strangely familiar. Minny shifted and