Not as tall, with thick black hair, she looked like . . . like . . . Hell, how did he describe those almost pointed cheekbones? The oversized alien eyes? Like she was a caricature of human. A mocking smile made a curl of her lips. His sudden shock seemed to amuse her. If anything, her quetzal-hide dress was even more outlandish than the Supervisor’s, right down to the knee-high boots and worn rifle hanging from its sling.

“Security Officer Talia Perez,” the woman told him dryly. “If you can press your eyeballs back into their sockets and close your mouth, Colonel, I believe the Supervisor would like to finish chewing on your ass so that she can be rid of you and get back to meaningful work.”

Creamer turned his angry gaze back to Aguila. “I’m a decorated colonel in the Marine Corps. Not some contracted transportee that you can—”

“Oh, but I can,” Aguila told him flatly. “I think you could probably quote by rote the exact Corporate Code, article, section, and paragraph that gives a Board Appointed Supervisor that authority.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “You know there will be an inquiry. That capriciously removing a marine colonel from his command will be questioned. And, Board Appointed Supervisor or not, I have rights under the Corporate Military Code to seek redress.”

A wicked smile bent Aguila’s lips. “You do indeed, Colonel.”

He stiffened to attention, snapping off a salute. “Then, with your permission, Board Supervisor, I will take my leave and present my case to Board Appointed Inspector General Soukup.”

“That is your prerogative, Colonel. Have a good day.” And with that, Aguila turned on her heel, striding purposefully back into Port Authority.

The freak-looking woman remained, studying him with those eerie oversized eyes. “Yeah,” she concluded. “You’re about what I expected.”

Behind her, the bushy-haired, brown-skinned guy in leather had watched the entire interchange with amusement.

“I haven’t a clue about what you expected,” Creamer told her bitterly. “Now, if you’ll direct me to the Corporate offices, I’d like to see about billeting for me and my marines.”

The Perez woman’s smile grew even wider. “Come on, Skull, I’ll show you around. Not that I’m wild about it, given what you did to Max Taggart, but maybe I’ve got a twisted sense of humor.”

Unsure what that meant, he followed her through the gate, ignoring the brown man who regarded him with knowing, almost sympathetic eyes.

Pus in a bucket, inside the fence the place was even worse than he’d imagined.

People were staring at him as he walked down the graveled avenue, his armor shining mirror-bright. Okay, change the description. The people were more like circus-cowboy-medieval-pirates, all of them carrying weapons.

“Did you read any of the briefing materials during the transit here?” Perez asked him.

“Of course. I had to know what my people were facing upon arrival. Do you think I’m an idiot?”