Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 32810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Irritated at the thought, I get to my feet and stuff my blaster into the holster at my belt. "I'm going to do my rounds."
No one stops me. I grab one of the cookies on the corner of Rektar's desk as I head out and stroll into the late afternoon sunlight. Port's a nice little place. I grew up on Homeworld, and the only real greenery there is in people's gardens. It's different here, though. Other than the few streets of Port and the buildings surrounding them, everything's green. The fields in the distance are lush with crops, and a few of the fat, four-legged meat-stock wander, grazing. There are fluffy clouds in the bright, clear sky, and it's all very pastoral and pleasant. I never thought I'd be one to enjoy living in an agricultural community, but I have to admit I'd find it hard to go back to a grimy space-port after a few years down here.
I nod to some of the females as I pass by them, bestowing smiles. Rounds are a nice way to spend the afternoon, and I enjoy them a lot more than Rektar does. For all that he's excellent with his pretty wife and with paperwork, he's shy. He's not good at talking to strangers. Me, I'm perfectly happy to do so. A lot of the human settlers here are afraid of mesakkah, but the Port Custodial department is here to help them. We're on their side, so we do our best to seem friendly and approachable. At least once a day, each of us heads out into Port's streets and wanders for a while. It's to be seen, and for people to realize we're here, keeping an eye on things. It's an opportunity for the residents to approach us and ask questions or simply chat. Most of the human women here are very sweet and friendly. I enjoy helping them out. They try hard and they just want to be left alone to live quiet, peaceful lives. Unlike that annoying harridan that's determined to set her own barn on fire because she can't be bothered to pay attention.
As if my thoughts have summoned her, I see Ashley inside the General Store.
I head there, drawn to her presence. I didn't like Rektar's comments earlier. He's right—I normally get along with most everyone. It's what I do best—rub along. But there's something about Ashley's willful, deliberate ignorance that eats at me. Maybe it's because I've seen how hard so many of these females work to get their farms running properly, and Ashley's not even trying. I try to re-frame it in my head, like Rektar says. Maybe it's a reaction to trauma. Maybe she deliberately avoids learning things, but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve kindness.
And I need to start by extending my hand out to her.
I enter the store, the door chiming noisily as I walk inside. Ashley doesn't turn around, her gaze focused on a row of homemade soaps on a table in front of her. She lifts one to her nose and sniffs it, closing her eyes, and the expression on her face is maddeningly sensual. My trou tighten uncomfortably and I'm reminded that I haven't had a female in a long, long time.
Not that I want this one. If I had to pick a human, I'd pick a pretty one, I think. One that's closer to mesakkah size and with dark black hair that falls straight like my own. Ashley's all wrong. She's, well, human-sized, which means she's too small for my tastes. And she's curvy all over, her rump and her front sticking out in spots that don't stick out on mesakkah females. Her mane is a pale brown and seems to fall all over the place in messy waves.
Pretty eyes, though…and then I'm mad at myself for thinking about her eyes.
There's a pair of praxiian males in the store, too. Bounty hunters, from the look of their kits, and I decide I need to keep an eye on them. They're fascinated with Ashley's presence as well, leering at her from one shelf over.
"Look at the backside on that human," one comments. "Tailless and utterly obscene."
"I'd love to take a bite out of it," the other purrs.
"Not if I claim her first," says the other. "Gonna find her door tonight and leave a little badge of honor."
Anger blisters through me at their words. Praxiians are even more possessive than mesakkah, and they don't understand the concept of boundaries. I can just imagine how that would go over, and how much they'll frighten the human. I need to step in…unless I'm not wanted. I watch the human, trying to gauge her reaction to their words. She's close enough to hear them—kef, everyone in the shop heard them. They're deliberately being loud to see if they can get a reaction.