Excerpt of His Highness the Duke by Michelle M. Pillow

"This is your brilliant plan?" Aeron stared at her sister in disbelief. She threw the flyer she'd gotten from one of the other passengers onto Riona's bed.

Riona lifted her head and slid the printed flyer under her face and read aloud, "Wanted: Galaxy Brides Corporation seeking 46 fertile, able–bodied Earth females of early childbearing years and A5+ health status for marriage to strong, healthy Qurilixian males at their annual Breeding Festival. Possibility of royal attendance. Must be eager bed–partners, hard workers. Virginity a plus. Apply with A5 health documents, travel papers, and IQ screen to: Galaxy Brides, Phantom Level 6, X Quadrant, Earthbase 5792461." Riona lifted her eyes, glancing up from where the personal beauty droid massaged the muscles in her back. "So you found out, did you?"

All around them was every starship convenience known to humanoids—beauty droids, cosmetic enhancements, top of the line food simulators that could materialize anything they desired, an oversized bed to sleep in. Aeron paced the length of Riona's quarters and then back again. The room was filled with machines and blinking sensors that illuminated in sections as her presence registered.

Aeron paused at an oval window full of sparkling stars. "You said you found the perfect transport. You said it wouldn't cost a single space credit. You said this ship was a relief mission to the natives of Qurilixen. You said you could get us to Qurilixen without any problems!"

"I received a free body lift this morning. I am really not seeing a problem," Riona answered. She seemed more bored than concerned.

Aeron frowned. "You didn't need a body lift."

"It was free." She arched a brow, looking like it was the most reasonable excuse in the world. "Plus free food, free massages, free beauty droid services..."

Lowering her voice, Aeron glanced at the beauty droid and stepped closer. "Galaxy Brides? Your solution was to sign up to be bartered brides? What happens when we get there? They are expecting you to get married. You can't possibly be serious about binding yourself to a stranger."

"Actually," Riona said louder, not worried about the robot servant. It did as it was programmed and nothing else. She pushed up to sit on the edge of her bed. "This is the perfect transport. It is a free ride and a pretty happy–happy one at that. Besides, I would argue that primitive males in need of brides, or else their entire race will die off, is a relief mission of sorts. Isn't that what you're trying to prevent? An entire race of people dying off?"

"Don't be dramatic," Aeron said.

"Who's being dramatic? Go check out the planetary uploads the ship provides." Riona closed her eyes and concentrated, clearly trying to assess new information she'd recently uploaded into her brain. With any upload, it took awhile for all the facts to commit themselves to memory. "Qurilixian women are rare due to the planet's blue radiation. Over the generations it has altered the men's genetics to produce only strong, large male, warrior heirs. Maybe one in a thousand babies turn out to be a girl." Riona opened her eyes. "Poor lugs." Then closing them again, she continued, "The fact that they have no women of their own was why the services of corporations like Galaxy Brides are so invaluable. In return, the Qurilixian people mine valuable metal that is only found in their caves. The metal is a great power source for long–voyaging starships, all but useless to the Qurilixian people who prefer living as simply as possible, as they are not known space explorers." Riona took a deep breath and gave an obnoxiously smug smile. "But you know all about the mine thing, don't you, Federation."

"Don't call me Federation," Aeron grimaced. "I thought you'd at least grown up a little in the last five years."

"Grow out of irritating you?" Riona laughed dismissingly. Then, pretending to study her newly manicured fingernails, she said, "Besides, dear sister, they are expecting us to get married. I had to forge your signature to get you on the ship. Really, I should think you would be grateful."

"Grateful? You are truly delusional if you think—"

"Yes, grateful!" Riona scowled. "You show up out of nowhere, ruining my victory—"

"You got us chased off Torgan by pirate loan sharks—" Aeron tried to interrupt.

"That's because you made me lose my bet. You couldn't have waited, oh, say two seconds until after my throw?"

"You almost crashed into the ceiling of the docking platform with your reckless flying."

"Blast it, Aeron, I would have been set for life! I'm lucky all that space pirate did was chase me off the planet. If you would have just waited a few seconds, I would have won fifty–thousand space credits off a side bet. Instead, I owe fifty thousand. I should have thrown you into a black hole or better yet, given you to the pirates to cover part of the debt. Then I wouldn't have had to save your ungrateful ass from them! And I didn't hit the ceiling. Give me some credit. I know how to fly a ship—better than you, I might add. I didn't ask you to come to Torgan. You did that on your own. You came to me. You ruined my life and in return I'm doing you a favor." Riona glared at her sister. "So if you're keeping score—"

"I'm trying to save a planet." This was why they didn't talk. Every conversation seemed to explode into a fight. Aeron tried to be the reasonable one. "I'm sorry if I think saving a world is slightly more important than your game."

"It's my livelihood, not just a game." Riona pushed a robotic hand that tried to reach for her hair, batting it away. "You always do that. You belittle what I do."

"You play games, Ri. Don't pretend that is an actual career.

"It is a career. It's my career. It's not like there is a big list of options for someone like me. Would you rather I take off my clothes with the Galaxy Playmates? Would that be a respectable enough paycheck for you?"

"You are being dramatic."

"You are being a colossal spacebitc—""