Chapter Two

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'Get up, off the floor, Child!' A very familiar hissing voice spoke quietly, urging me up while I sat rubbing my sore hip and pretending I hadn't just landed on my arse. In front of dignitaries and commanding officer's alike.

'Give her a moment, Paul,' a lighter feminine voice spoke. I wanted to snort, imagining addressing the revered Ambassador from the floor.

'Yes, Ambassador Lockley.' he replied, his voice subdued, but having known my older brother/bio father as long as I had, I could tell he'd rather yell at me and demand I not disgrace myself any longer and do as I was told.

My brother was here. In the same room as I! I opened my eyes, and wanted to close them again when I saw everyone watching me. It was so awkward and embarrassing and I hadn't had a moment like that since I first started basic training.

Strong hands helped me stand and I quietly thanked whom I recognised to be the Ambassador's aide and turned to the room once again. My rebreather was repositioned and I was situated in a chair. I sat rubbing my temples until I realised Ambassador Lockley sat down beside me and I promptly stood up again, and stepped away from the chair.

I couldn't afford her any proper respect sitting beside her like that and it was unheard of that someone as lowly as I could even be given the liberty to do so. I stood, stricken, probably looking like a monkrat scalf. I turned and braced for attention towards my superior officer.

'Sir, Staff Commander Monmouth sir, I apologise for my inappropriate behaviour, Sir.' I waited for him to explain what I was doing there, to give me a more appropriate seat at the conference table, or to have me stand by the door if need be.

'Oh for the love of Marama...' My brother hissed again, swearing by the goddess of our planet's satellite moon.

'Private, is there a problem with your chair?' His voice was tainted with impatience. I only noticed then that he had a thin scar across his left eyebrow.

'Sir, yes sir.' I felt stupid, but I didn't want to point out to a room full of practical strangers what my social position was, in the light of the dignitaries from my own planet. Sweat began breaking out on my upper lip and brow.

'And, Private...' He was stating my rank and position, almost as much as he was about to demand I state mine. 'What is the problem? Please be seated so we can begin this Alliance meeting. You are holding everyone up.'

'Sir.' I swallowed, looked down at my black shiny shoes. 'Ah, I can't be seated next to the Ambassador, Sir.' My face was growing hotter and my rebreather beeped again.

'Private Marinkovich. Do you have an issue with sitting next to the hybrid Ambassador, because if so, then this meeting can come to an end here and now.' His voice was now traced with a hard edge of anger.

'No issue, sir.' I swallowed. 'I just can't sit there, sir.' I whispered the last part.

'Staff Commander? If we may?' The ambassador stood up and folded their hands over the top of a small round container on the table, only a little larger than their palms. Other Omicron B residents in their entourage stood in difference to the hybrid pair's position. The green haired woman nodded to the Staff Commander.

'We believe Private Marinkovich isn't expressing some form of hate or prejudice on her part.' When I heard this, my jaw dropped and I looked up at the officer, shocked that he'd think that of me. His face had dropped an air of annoyance and took on a look of interest. I quickly swallowed what I wanted to yell at him right at that very point.

'Omicron Corporation has been supplying the Allied Space Fleet at its subsidiaries and affiliations for over 400 years to date. But in all of those 400 years, only a total of 61 resident citizens, true born of Omicron B, have ever left our home world and joined the ranks of these honoured in the fleet. Never once has one of our Mossies or a hybrid pair chosen or even shown interest in leaving our beautiful, influential planet.' She paused to let that sink in to all those in the room. I darted a gaze around to see nodding and understanding on the faces of the other well dressed men and women in the meeting, and realised for the first time that many of them were not fleet and looked marginally like a large collection of lawyers and policy makers. What had I gotten myself into?

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