Photo: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Glass-of-light-153578187 by Justysiak
Rory tugged the hem of his formal tunic as he slipped through the laughing throng. In his ear, his partner directed him to the musicians stand.
“Target acquired.” Rory pulled the sedative needle from his him and palmed it. His target was an assassin. Reports were that the hit was on the Teeler ambassador. It was his job to make sure the future, one hundred and fiftieth member of the Galactic Congress, made it to the inauguration session in the morning.
He moved into position. “May I have this dance?”
The woman turned to him. Her silver gown shimmered in the party lighting. Most distracting was the plunging neckline. She smiled. “I’d love to.”
Rory guided her to the dance floor, subtly searching her. He wondered where she could hide a weapon in a dress conspicuously short on material. “I’m Jude.” He provided her the name he usually used on missions.”
“Star. Nice to meet you.”
The assassin fit into his arms as if she were made to be there. She glided effortlessly with him around the floor. Too bad he had to arrest her. Just before the dance ended, he raised his hand to caress her neck. Her deep blue eyes gazed into his, a smile playing on her lips. It really was too bad, he thought as he pressed the needle gently into her neck.
She laughed.
That wasn’t the reaction he expected.
Her skin began to melt away, the laugh turning to hissing as the human form fell away revealing the reptilian form of a Chos.
Rory recoiled, then spun out of reach of the Chos fangs. Party-goers around him began screaming, running for the exits.
“Pitiful human.” The Chos lunged for him. “No Teeler will be allowed to align with the Galactic Congress.”
Rory dodged a swipe of six-inch claws.
The Teeler ambassador was being hustled to the exit by his security. Not the planned rescue but it would do. The Chos held the Teelers as a slave race for a thousand years. There were a little put out when the Galactic Patrol helped the Teeler gain their freedom.
“Chop the thing in the throat,” Rory heard in his earpiece from his partner. He backed up. The Chos advanced, hissing. Rory faked a stumble. The Chos moved in. Rory punched the Chos in the throat right before it bit his face. The creature screamed a high-pitched squeal that shattered nearby wine glasses.
Rory punched it again under the armpit where the Chos neural ganglia was located. The Chos sank to its knees. Security rushed in and secured the would-be assassin.
Rory’s partner came in from his control location. “Nice job.”
“Good enough. I didn’t know the Chos could camouflage like that.”
“Me either.” He took pictures of the sloughed skin. “We’ll have to study that. See if we can replicate it.”
“That would be handy.” Rory straightened his tunic. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m all dressed up. Might as well find a party.” He grinned, then gave his partner a little salute. “Maybe find a real girl.”
Thank You!
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