Читать книгу Space Patrol! - Sarah Nicole Nadler - Страница 4

Captain Nask grinned widely, showing his flat wide teeth to the small Earthlings standing on his bridge. The taller one looked at first confused and then frightened as she spotted him, but when her face settled into an air of defiance it made him grin.

Nask brushed his long floppy ears off his shoulders—a habitual gesture—and sauntered over so heavily his gait made the deck tremble.

A translator 'bot came forward—its brass fittings trimmed in wood to match the rest of the Forty-Five. The bot was small and bulbous, with a brass top hat on its shiny head, two large black sensors for eyes and a pair of small hover jets for feet.

Nask growled out a greeting and the bot obediently relayed this to the small female. She crossed her arms with a look so skeptical he needed no translation.

“She rejects your kind welcome, Captain. Her tone of voice suggests extreme sarcasm and she refers to you with an epithet that likens the sound of your language with an Earth animal known for being extremely dirty.”

Captain Nask gave a rumbling laugh, his grey mottled face twisting into another grimacing smile. He noticed the small curvy female elbowing her companion, as though trying to correct her behavior.

“Tell her I can appreciate her anger, but it will not help matters. Our destination is the slave markets of Asterope Prime in the Pleiades Sector. They are now my property, and will do as they are told.”

The bot did, and then paused slightly as the taller Earthling replied. Even after she had finished speaking he hesitated, as though his internal processors were not certain how exactly to proceed. Then, turning to face the Captain squarely, it said, “She is a rather defiant little thing, isn't she?”

“What did she say?” Nask demanded, his scowl returning.

“It hardly bears repeating, Sir,” the bot said firmly.

Nask gritted his teeth furiously, “Bot, switch to direct translation mode,” He ordered, “You had better be obedient, young lady, or I’ll skip the slave market and sell you to a meat factory!”

Nask watched as the Earthling shrugged, shrugged! and assumed a nonchalant pose, as though the idea of being served as part of an alien dish was of no consequence to her. The other female buried her face in her hands. At least one of them had a proper sense of self-preservation, Nask thought, bemused. He frowned when the bot translated a reply.

“What a strange species,” he muttered. Holding out a pair of breathing masks, he gestured forward, ordering the bot to lead the Earthlings down into the cargo hold where they would be stored.