Chapter 3

Kat'Chinna pretended to ignore the male at her side, all the while watching him out of the corner of her eye. He was making a strange noise by somehow pushing air through his pursed lips. It could have been entertaining, perhaps, under the right circumstances, but at the moment it was making her nerves stand on end.

Not that I'll ever let him know that he unnerves me.

The first rule when interrogating a prisoner was to never seem rattled. She would project calm assurance. Even if his nearness was causing a curious reaction in her body.

She'd felt attraction to many males in her lifetime. Her current crush on Major Ontarii had existed since she'd first laid eyes on the handsome major. But this, this was something else entirely.

It's almost like I can't catch my breath around him. And when he challenged her command, she was annoyed sure, but also a strange thrill that had caught her off guard.

Kat'Chinna arrived at the entrance to the interrogation room and slid her finger up the membrane to open the chamber. She gestured for the prisoner to precede her and with a lopsided grin and a short bow, he walked into the room.

As the membrane closed behind her, Kat'Chinna took a deep breath. She knew the interrogation before her would be a challenge, and the pressure was on not to disappoint her commander.

Just get the information, she told herself, and get back into Major Ontarii's good graces. Her nerves steady, she walked to the seat on one side of the small table and motioned for the human to claim the lone seat across from her.

"Now," she started, interlocking her fingers tightly and placing her hands on the table's smooth surface, "let's begin."

The standard opening tactic, according to the Zantharian handbook on prisoner interrogation, was to start with the facts. Sometimes when confronted with a rational argument of the evidence against him, a prisoner would cave and confess.

"Your ship was found in a zone marked for interplanetary commercial shipping, patrolled by the Zantharian fleet. As we do with every ship who enters this zone, you were scanned for signs of Hareema DNA. We detected traces of that DNA on your vessel."

The human male leaned back in his chair and stared at her. She paused, leaving the room at the mercy of a near-deafening silence. Oftentimes a criminal would become anxious at the yawning silence and would begin volunteering information.

The human, unfortunately, was not subject to such anxiety. He gave a shrug and continued to stare at her.

Kat'Chinna wanted to frown, but kept her expression carefully schooled. I don't know why I thought the rational approach would work. Humans are clearly irrational creatures.

Time to try out Zantharian interrogation tactic number two.

"My commander is a man of little patience," she said with a soft sigh. "He trusts his crew and his equipment. The scan was checked and double-checked. There is Hareema DNA on your vessel."

Kat'Chinna loosened her fingers and set her hands down flat on the table. "I know this situation must be difficult for you and your crew to accept. However, your captain did ask that you cooperate with us. Just tell me what you know, and I'll see what I can do to help you."
The lieutenant cocked an eyebrow at her. Despite the insolent expression, Kat'Chinna couldn't help but appreciate the fine details of his face.

His skin was smooth and pleasing, it's color the lightest brown. Unlike the ever-changing skin of her fellow Zantharians, the human's skin had a consistency that was somehow pleasing in its exoticness. Combined with the contrast of his clear and clever blue eyes, she didn't think he could be called anything other than handsome, bordering on beautiful.

His nose was straight, its slight rounding an excellent complement to the sharpness of his cheekbones. The angles of his face were strong, more than a match for the strength of his well-muscled physique.

One could get lost in those eyes, she thought as she continued her appraisal. Their light lured her in, like the trapfish of her planet who displayed a light right above a mouth of razor-sharp teeth. Before its hapless prey realized the danger, they were ripped apart.

A lesson to remember.

Kat'Chinna brought her mind back to the task, continuing her tactic at drawing out information.

"I'm afraid Major Ontarii won't be pleased if I don't return with the information he wants. He's not a man one likes to upset. I want to help you and your crew. And the only way I can do that is if you talk."

Still no response from the human. Painting a sympathetic expression on her face, she continued. "If you don't talk, I can't ensure your safety or the safety of your crew. So please, help me to help you."

Suddenly there was a burst of noise from the prisoner. It almost startled Kat'Chinna into jumping up from her seat. Then she realized what the noise was.

Laughter.

"You find something amusing in this?" she said, unable to still her emotions properly so that little striations of yellow found their way into her pale green skin.

The human continued laughing. "Yes," he said after swallowing a gulp of air. "It's good to know that Good Cop/Bad Cop is literally universal."

Good Cop/Bad Cop? Kat'Chinna gave the expression some thought, then realized what he meant. Although the Zantharians called the tactic 'Punisher and Savior,' the method must be similar to this Good Cop/Bad Cop of Earth.

"There's really nothing to laugh about," she said, her voice showing her annoyance at her ploy being so easily exposed. "Let's be realistic about your situation. You're a prisoner here on the Zantharian flagship, the most powerful ship in our fleet with a crew of nearly 100 and weapons you earth dwellers couldn't even dream of.""You're trapped," she continued, "outgunned and outmanned. And a very real threat right now resides on your ship. If you don't cooperate, we have to assume that you're in league with the enemy. That makes you our adversary, and we do not take Hareema co-conspirators lightly."

"I may be trapped," the human said at last, not making eye contact but rather seeming to pick a piece of lint off his gray flight suit, "but the way I see it, you guys are the enemy. You refuse to confirm that Dr. Cohen is alive and safe, other than spouting off some nonsense about her being on your planet with your Supreme Leader. You've taken us prisoner, captured our ship and are now trying to force me to talk with the threat of violence to my crew. So excuse me if I don't jump to do your bidding."

He looked up at her then, a smile gracing his face. "I'm sorry sister, but you're barking up the wrong tree with your threats. Us humans don't rattle that easily."

Barking up a tree? Rattle? Damn his penchant for colloquialisms!

Kat'Chinna stared at him, trying to think. His wide white smile made it difficult for her to stay on task.

Why does he affect me like this? A primitive human, one who might be conspiring with the enemy? The Hareema had already infiltrated Zanthar, and if they didn't figure out what the enemy's plan was soon, her entire planet could be enslaved by the dreaded shapeshifters. This was no time to be distracted by a pair of pretty eyes and a nice smile.

So why does my body feel like this? Why am I so mysteriously drawn to him? I've never had a reaction like this to another male in my life, but five minutes after meeting this one, I'm wondering what his body looks like under that flight suit. Wondering whether we might be compatible in a certain way...

One deep breath wasn't enough to quiet her emotions, so she took several more. She stared down at the table and realized her hands, which had been flat, were now balled tightly into fists. If she didn't get a hold of herself soon, she could lead to the downfall of an entire planet.

And no male, no matter how sexy, was worth the sacrifice of an entire planet.

"What's the matter, little lady," the human said, causing Kat'Chinna to at last look up at him. "Cat got your tongue?"
"My tongue is none of your business," she shot back before she could stop herself.

"Ah," he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up, "so there is some fire beneath that cool facade. I was beginning to think you were made of ice."

Kat'Chinna stared at him and tried to remember her training. Methods one and two had failed. She went through the list of other possible interrogation tactics, quickly discarding all but one.

This human male was a difficult subject, and she didn't have time to waste in trying to crack his shell. So she would try one more method, one that followed on the remark he'd just made.

For a moment she didn't want to. This tactic, it wasn't like the others she'd tried. There were no bare facts, and no threats or intimidation. This tactic was a last resort for Kat'Chinna, and in fact, she'd never tried it on any other of the species she'd questioned in this room.

She loathed to try it now, but the clock was ticking and she really didn't have much of a choice. Still, she sensed the danger of it, the possibility that it might reveal feelings that she wanted to keep hidden from her prisoner at all costs.

Have courage, she told herself. If he thinks it's something other than it is, you can set him straight soon enough. He'll realize it was just another tactic to pry information from him. And then he'll feel like the fool.

She hoped the thought of him realizing his mistake afterwards would make her feel better, but it didn't. All she felt was anxiety over the gambit she was about to try.

At least it won't be hard, she told herself. He really was the perfect subject. Perhaps it would be a safe way to get out these feelings, to lay them on the table and make herself realize how stupid they were.

Her mind made up, Kat'Chinna slowly let an inviting grin spread over her face. She leaned forward, instilling interest in her dark eyes and batting her lashes a few times.

She saw the human swallow and sit up straighter in his seat.

Good. I'm already getting a reaction.

This will be a piece of cake. She remembered the human expression. She'd always liked that particular turn of phrase because cake, or at least the Zantharian version of the dessert, was one of her favorite foods.

Her elation was short-lived, however, as she remembered the other human expression having to do with the dessert. Let them eat cake.

The way the human was looking at her right now, she had no doubt whom he thought the cake was.

Too bad. She steadied herself for what was to come. If he thinks to gobble me up, he'll soon find himself struck down with the worst indigestion in his life.

Tracing a finger over the smooth surface of the table, she gave her prey a shy smile. "So, lieutenant, tell me. Do humans mate for life?"