Free Defying The Alliance (Novokin Alliance Invasion 1) by Bobbi Ross Page A

to you and to your unborn children. I promise you, we’ll find a way to make this work, and hopefully we won't make a habit of it.” I assured him, hoping to allay my conscience as much as my first officer’s.
    Green fingers brushed over glistening eyes before he continued, "The other two are cargo ships,” he informed, waving his hand and the stats of two other ships filled the screen. “One is privately owned, and the other has an Alliance signature."
    Trex’s massive form filled my peripheral vision, standing near the auxiliary station just behind and to the right of me. It turned out he knew quite a lot about running a ship, taking to the consul like a Bensothpian land-mite to salt. Not that anyone asked him to, but we needed all hands on deck so I decided to let him stay. He looked formidable, muscular and menacing as always. Put a shirt on for prak's sake. And of course, the card-table face was back on.
    I threw my hand out to wave off the private cargo ship. "We're not out to hurt Joe'en Q. Public, so tell me about the Alliance ship."
    I could feel Trex’s eyes boring holes on the side of my skull. His words played over and over in my mind. ‘You’re not a Protectorate Captain. Not anymore.’ I chanced a quick look, hoping to borrow some of his strength, his conviction. Damn he was smoking hot.
    “err...as I was saying Captain, the Alliance ship is a midsize Terring class. Cargo unknown. With an unsual level of defensive capabilities,” Jaxx uttered, arcing a single viridian eyebrow. Wow, his colors were sure intensifying in his second dimester. He'd be popping in a few weeks.
    “This ship has ten times the standard armament allotted for its size,” he pointed out, a hint of worry in his voice.
    "Understood. It’s still a go." I responded tersely, letting him and everyone else knew that I had already settled on this target.
    My first officer continued unperturbed. "Their coordinates are just outside normal shipping lanes. If we leave them dead in space it'll be at least two days before someone happens upon them."
    I nodded. This all sounded good so far, but apparently he wasn't finished.
    "The problem is, they'll probably call in their position as soon as we approach."
    I had of course considered this earlier, regardless of whatever ship we accosted. But at this stage in the game what choice did we have?
    "That's a risk we'll have to take." I said pinching the bridge of my nose.
    "There's a good chance that if they call for reinforcements Captain, we could have a fight on our hands." Jaxx cautioned as he turned to face me. The serious tone in his voice matched the somber expression he bore, foreign to his usually jovial face.
    I tapped the arm rest of my chair reverently. "Then we'll see what this old Warbird has left in her," I uttered firmly with more confidence than I really felt.
    And just like that, our mission parameters changed from flight to fight.
    The cocking of a golden eyebrow coupled by a piercing, savage look from the auxiliary station made my knees weak and my chest flutter. His wild, golden-brown hair framed a strong neck and cascaded freely over the top of his muscular shoulders. He nodded in my direction, before he turned around to continue his work. It seemed, I had his approval. Well goody for me, now all was right with the universe. I tried to work up a good annoyance, but all I got was a sense of warmth that made me feel…safe.
    "Helm," I said with renewed vigor, "set course and target that Alliance cargo vessel." I turned and pointed at Jaxx. "You, my big green friend, raise up the Jolly Roger. We're pirates now."
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    The chiseled faced commander was just about to raise the cup of cooled Carbathian peppermint tea to his lips when his helmsman broke the silence on the bridge. "Captain, there's an incoming call from the warship Gluxston."
    "Hold." The commander raised his brows at the helm. "Who's ship is that?"
    "It's Captain Asmot's Sir."
    Skeck. Gulping his