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“All business from here on out until I can return,” Stacy sighed. “This stinks.”
“Better to be frustrated than have your reputation shattered.”
She stroked his strong jaw, adoring him for understanding, then turned to the door. He was on her heels as she left the quarters.
A whir and the flash of something darting in front of her face caused her to gasp and jerk backward. She collided into Kuran, who swung at the vid drone an instant too late. The flying recorder shot to hover inches beneath the ceiling.
“Governor Nichols, you just left the quarters of Clan Rihep, the clan of Earth’s head of security, Nobek Kuran. What exactly is your relationship with the clan?”
The high-speed words, barreling in at a near-shout, came from Stacy’s right. She whirled to find Blythe Nelson staring up at her, a voice amplifying box held toward her.
“What?” She glanced from the reporter to the drone, caught flatfooted. Alarm coursed through her.
“Are you, the governor of Earth, having an affair with a Kalquorian clan? Are you planning to join them as their Matara? Are you already secretly clanned?”
Stacy was aware of her damp hair and the scent of shampoo wafting from it. It couldn’t be more obvious she’d showered in Clan Rihep’s quarters, which would lead to damning speculation.
She didn’t dare glance at Kuran or respond to Nelson’s insistence she answer the questions. Stacy pressed her lips together and hurried along the corridor toward the shuttle dock.
“What would you say to those who’d consider such a relationship problematic for a woman in your position of responsibility? Are you giving the Kalquorian Empire special treatment in trade negotiations?”
Stacy was tempted to stop there and refute such accusations, but every instinct told her it would be a mistake. Blythe Nelson had stalked and ambushed her for a salacious story. Fairness was nowhere present in her fervent questions, which already assumed a scandalous affair.
They passed the station’s resident Kalquorians, who gaped at Stacy, Kuran, the blond fury, and her whirring drone pursuing them. Blythe continued to shout questions. Stacy burned with embarrassment and wished the drone would crash into the wall. Kuran could have brought it down, but he knew perfectly well how much worse it would make an already bad situation appear.
“Hey! You can’t have a vid-recording drone in the station’s private quarters level!”
Stacy slowed as Nelson squawked, her questions at last coming to an end. She swiveled in time to watch a young, handsome Kalquorian, his expression etched by the obvious fierceness of a Nobek, leap into the air and grab the drone. Its motor whined as it struggled to escape, and he shoved it to the floor, where he brought a heavy boot down on it and smashed its single hover propeller.
“Get off that! I’m responsible for my employer’s equipment!” Nelson ran at the Nobek and shoved against his chest, attempting to knock him away from the broken drone.
He scowled, not moving an inch despite her efforts. He bent and picked up the whining device. Nelson tried to snatch it from him.
“Sorry, Matara, but I’ll have to take this to station security. Unauthorized footage recorded on the private level is strictly forbidden.”
She leapt, attempting to grab the smashed drone held high over his head. “Give it back! I need the recording! I’m press, you big jerk!”
“Then you’ll have to answer questions from station security and sign some papers. No media reporting is allowed on the private area. Your world has a contract with us to that effect.” He was polite but immune to her increasingly desperate attempts to reclaim the drone.
“I have an obligation to investigate fellow Earthers for wrongdoings, especially government leaders!”
“Let’s go while she’s too busy to notice,” Kuran whispered to Stacy.
She snapped a nod, and they rushed away from the scene. The drone-crushing Nobek had turned the other direction and was striding off. Nelson clung to the drone in his grip and yelled vainly for him to let her do her job. Kalquorians watched them go, chuckling at the display. They called to the reporter they wouldn’t mind making vids for her.
Stacy and Kuran were silent until they reached her shuttle in the repair bay. They paused next to the vessel. “Is it really forbidden for news footage to be recorded on the living level?”
“It is, and before Nobek Selt intervened, I’d planned to grab a member of station security to have them confiscate the drone.”
“It’s a good thing he showed up.”
“We would have run into someone authorized to deal with it on our way out. I’m sorry I didn’t do it myself, but I figured if I protested, she’d use it to harm you.”
“The Nobek who grabbed the drone takes his privacy seriously.”
“It’s probably second nature for Selt, considering he’s part of Captain Kila’s spyship crew. He might have interrupted Matara Blythe’s scheme simply because we were near Admiral Piras’ quarters. Just a glimpse of him or Captain Kila on the footage could have raised an uproar if Kalquor had seen it.”
“Whether it was for our benefit or not, if you run into Nobek Selt again, thank him on my behalf.” Stacy woofed a breath. “The footage will be destroyed?”
