Fallen Empire 1: Star Nomad by Lindsay Buroker Read Free Book Online

comments about working for women.
    The other applicant was a stocky, brown-skinned man with a wild tuft of blond hair that she assumed was dyed or otherwise modded. “Tommy Beck, ma’am,” he said, slapping a hand to his chest, then holding it out in greeting. “Served four years in the fleet, got out, did some private gigs, then fought for the Alliance for all four years of the war.” He glanced down at the collar of her jacket, taking in her rank. “It’ll be good to work for a real officer, not someone who bought a ship and figures that qualifies him for something.”
    The other man snorted. “You don’t have the job yet, Beck. But I see they taught you how to kiss ass real well during that war.”
    “You don’t have a problem working for a woman?” Alisa asked the pretty boy before Beck could retort—or do something with the fingers he had just curled into a fist. She was already fairly certain she would reject this clod on principle, but she ought to ask to see their résumés, if they had brought them, and perhaps for a demonstration of their skills.
    “Draper,” the man said, his gaze dipping to her chest. Instead of looking at the rank on her collar, he was more interested in studying her breasts. “Done all kinds of work for women,” he said. “I’m sure I can keep you pleased.”
    The attention made her wish she still had her wedding ring, but she had always taken it off when she handled the flight stick of her Striker. It must have fallen out of her pocket during the crash, because it hadn’t been there when she had awoken in the hospital and poked into her uniform. Either that or someone there had looted her unconscious form—considering that all of her valuables had been missing, that did seem to be a possibility. Alisa remembered how distraught she had been, worrying that Jonah would be disappointed at the loss of the ring. That had been before the letter had come.
    “I don’t think a man whore is what she’s looking for,” Beck said. “At least that wasn’t listed in the job description.”
    “Suck my asteroids, Beck.”
    Draper stepped forward, raising his arm toward Alisa. To put around her shoulders, she realized with displeasure. She stepped back, but he still got close enough to drop his hand onto her shoulder. She could have scurried away and avoided him completely, but didn’t think it would be seemly for the captain to be seen fleeing the prospective employees.
    “Happy to advise you on security matters, Captain,” Draper said, squeezing her shoulder and using his grip like an anchor to ooze closer. “Lots of pirates and gangsters out there these days. It’s not safe anymore to fly between here and Perun. Mafia’s got ahold of one of the Perun moons, you know.” He squeezed her shoulder again.
    Alisa dropped her hands to her hips, her fingers an inch from her Etcher. She leveled a flat look at him, trying for the stern authority of an experienced commander even if she’d never led anything more than a squadron of pilots, men and women who had been too busy worrying about peppering the defenses of imperial cruisers and dreadnoughts to challenge her authority. Draper wore a weapons belt, too, and even though he acted like a sleaze, was probably a quick draw. He had muscles, not just a pretty face.
    “Why don’t you take your hand off her, Draper?” Beck said, stepping forward.
    “Why don’t you contemplate your tiny prick, Beck?” Draper oozed even closer to Alisa, sliding his hand down her back. “How about a tour of the ship, Captain?”
    That hand was on its way south to her ass. Alisa’s reflexes overrode her desire to appear cool and nonchalant. She tried to move to the side, her fingers touching the butt of her gun. He moved more quickly than she expected, clasping her wrist before she got the weapon all the way out of her holster.
    “No need for impoliteness, Captain. I’m just being friendly. I expect you’ll need a friend out there.” His other hand