by Elise Artez
Copyright 2012 Elize Artez
The content in this book is intended for mature audiences only. It contains explicit language and graphic depictions of sexual activity. By purchasing this book you agree that you are of a legal, consenting age to read the content herein.
“You know this is suicide, right?”
Captain Neila Anwel leaned back in the hard metal chair, folding toned arms over a small chest. Her jaw squared, held tense, grey eyes narrowing. There’d been no arguing with the two male customers that came before her. Not a single word. Not even a pass at their credentials, far as she could tell. Certainly not the way he was poring over hers, making sure her Captain’s license was in order and the documentation for her freighter had all the right signatures and stamps.
“I know I’ve been doing this for three years now. And maybe I should just manage my business off–world so I don’t have to deal with stupid fucks like you.”
“Let’s be clear, girl. You’ve kept Omegas for three years. The backwater zones only hold the weakest of the lot; they’ll piss themselves as soon as look at a colony uniform. You aren’t gonna keep an Alpha in line with that little toy gun of yours.”
Her tongue curled against the inside of her cheek, fingers tensing on her arm. He’d given her reason enough to pull her ‘toy gun,’ but she was already in hot water with the colony. Killing a middle management boot–licker wasn’t going to win her any favors.
“And here I thought your agencies were just out for a quick roll of credits. Matter of fact,” She pulled out a small datapad and tapped on a few keys, “why don’t I just pay you an extra ‘skip the bullshit’ fee.”
He met her gaze, a scowl etched into his face, then apparently decided it wasn’t worth the pseudo–integrity he was trying to uphold. One quick slash of his pen and the screen was signed, more or less, her documentation shoved toward her side of the desk.