Rebellion (Alien Authority 1)

“I do not want to tell you that it is fine.”

“Well, I am fine,” she said. “So this is all… uh… fine.”

“Some behavior has been observed which suggests otherwise. You truly do seem to have encountered difficulties after being corrected by Commander Atlas. Perhaps we could talk about that? You could tell me what it is you have been doing for the past three days?”

She stood up, smoothing her suddenly sweaty palms down over her thighs. “I’m gonna go. If that’s alright with you. Sir.”

It was hard to perceive Esense as an authority. It was like trying to regard a sunbeam as an authority. Still, she added the sir, just in case.

“You may not be ready to talk about your feelings as of now,” Esense said. “But it is important to process difficult encounters like the one you had with Commander Atlas.”

“Is it. Well. Alright. I’ll think about that.”

There was no way she was ever going to say anything about what happened between Atlas and her. Same with the way she was never going to say anything about the way she’d drunkenly fucked Taylor before knowing he was going to be a superior officer on her first ship. If there was one thing Jerri knew how to do, it was how to keep her damn mouth shut.

“You are dismissed, Ensign Tessil.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking her leave as quickly as she had arrived. She breathed a deep sigh of relief as soon as she was outside the door and therefore out of earshot. She’d hidden what she needed to hide.

“How was your counseling session?”

Atlas’s raspy rough voice caught up with her as she made her way down the hall as quickly as possible. It figured he’d want to know what had gone on in there. Everybody in the Authority was covering their ass one way or another. From cadets to the admiralty, everybody had something to hide.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him anything.” She turned around to face Atlas, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She couldn’t help it. He made her feel incredibly small and half-concerned he could read her mind as well.

“I am not worried, Ensign Tessil,” he said flatly. Atlas was really nothing like Taylor. Taylor was shit scared she’d tell people what happened. Atlas had nothing to hide.

“At least, I am not worried about that. I am concerned that he might be right. I may have caused you some damage.” He made a suggestive gesture with his brows to indicate he was not talking about the spanking.

“You didn’t,” she replied, surprised that he gave a fuck. “I’m fine. I’ve just been taking it easy. Commander Esense is a pain in the ass. He thinks we’re made of…”

“Do not speak of your superior officers with that level of disrespect!” Atlas snapped.

As soon as she thought he might be decent, he proved that he wasn’t. Atlas was obsessed with Authority rules and hierarchy. That little glimmer of concern he’d shown was gone already, replaced with his need to lecture and dominate.

“Of course, sir. So sorry, sir.” She managed to say the words without her teeth sounding nearly as gritted as they were. The reality of the Kitari was not as hot as her memory of him. She’d wiped all this overbearing bullshit from her mind and focused purely on the hotness. She’d forgotten he was still an Authority commander when he wasn’t balls deep inside her.

“Dismissed,” he said curtly.

She was more than happy to go back to bed.

Chapter Four

Jerri was lying in bed with a Slurpee and a burrito when the ship was hit so hard every bit of it shook. It was the kind of impact that broke things. Important things. It was a very bad bang, and she knew that meant she would be called on. Sure enough, her communicator badge lit up like a tree covered in lights.

“DSN Tessil to the bridge immediately.”

They only called her DSN when shit was hitting the fan.

Jerri wasted no time in heading for the door and was on the bridge in under thirty seconds. Unlike everything else in her existence on the Audacity, this was a no fucking around situation.

“What do we have?”

“Asteroid storm. Had to cut through the bays of…”

She stopped listening. She knew what had happened. There were plenty of places they could have flown where they would be safe, but territorial restrictions and the fear of passing through the wrong regions meant the helm crew had picked a region of space where asteroidal firestorms would occasionally rage through. Ninety percent of the time, they could cruise through without issue. Ten percent of the time, they’d get caught in the storms.

Today was a ten percent day. Judging by the way massive asteroids were whipping by the bridge’s screens, and the resounding sounds of impacts on the shields, not to mention the waning shield protection percentage, it might even have been a one percent day. A huge fucking mistake, in other words.