It hurts. I can’t move my legs and I’m looking up at the skydome. It’s covered over by the emergency shutters, the sunlight shut out. I’m surrounded by something sticky and warm. Is that my own blood?

It’s gone dark. I can barely see, but something large and warm squeezes my hand.

It’s the General. I can’t believe he’s bending over me like this, all his hardness and arrogance gone. I suppose there’s something about falling off a hundred foot ladder that invokes sympathy.

His palm is rough and callused, and it completely engulfs my hand, but it’s warm.

At least these Kordolians aren’t cold-blooded.

I try to move, but he puts a firm hand on my shoulder. Something’s seriously wrong. The pain is so bad it’s almost not painful anymore, if that’s even possible. At least my legs actually hurt. I read somewhere that if you’re really paralyzed you don’t feel pain anymore. I don’t know if that’s true, but right now, the pain is strangely reassuring, even though it feels as if my legs are broken in a hundred places.

“Don’t move.” The General’s deep voice reaches me through a fog of agony. I bite my lower lip and nod, trying to reassure him that I’m fine, but my vision’s starting to go blurry, and his pale, alien features are becoming distorted. Even when he’s trying to be nice, he’s still bossy.

He is a General, though. Bossy is in the job description.

What a stupid thought to be having right now. I might actually not survive this.

Did I just think that? No way. I can’t afford to not survive. I refuse to die, especially because of an oversized cockroach. I am not having ‘killed by a cockroach’ on my obituary.

I can’t believe this has happened. In such a short time, my boring, normal life has turned into something out of a ridiculous action movie. I guess they’re right when they say anything can happen in deep space.

The General’s saying something, but I can’t quite make out the words. I close my eyes. Everything’s going black.

It’s so tempting to drift away into sleep’s seductive embrace.

There are lots of voices now. I can’t move. I’m floating on a cloud of pain. This really sucks. This morning I was having coffee above the dock. Now, I’m lying here with my legs smashed to bits, after being attacked by a terrifying alien insect.

And another alien is holding my hand. His hand is warm. Rough and warm.

I force my eyes open again. It’s an effort to stay awake. His face swims into view. I see deep red eyes. He’s staring at me with a strange expression. I can’t concentrate. I can’t understand anything.

Lots of voices swarm around me. They’re speaking another language. Kordolian? I don’t understand anything. The General sounds really fired up now, barking orders at them.

Gloved hands are pressing something cool and sticky onto my injuries. There’s a momentary stab of pain as something is inserted into a vein in my hand. Then there’s no pain anymore.

I try to speak. I try to open my mouth, but nothing’s happening.

Hands are all over me, sliding me onto what I think is a hover-stretcher. It floats upwards, and then we’re moving. I twist and try to see what’s happening. My eyes flutter open and closed, revealing glimpses of the brightly-lit service corridor. We’re moving fast.

Others have joined the General now. Kordolians? I’m hooked up to something, and whatever they’ve put on my legs seems to have stopped the bleeding.

The pain’s becoming less, too.

The lights are too bright. I’m floating in and out of consciousness.

Everything’s dark now, and there’s nothing I can do except let these strange aliens take me away as everything fades to black.

* * *

As Zyara raises the hover stretcher with the help of the yellow-haired Human female, Abbey floats in and out of consciousness. With her small body connected to various lines and monitors, she appears so fragile. I glance at her, noting the paleness of her skin. The pink flush to her cheeks is gone, and the delicate skin around her eyes appears grey.

A flicker of movement at the edge of my vision catches my attention, and I turn.

It’s the Xargek. It’s round abdomen writhes and pulsates, and I curse in frustration. I pull out a plasma gun and run over to it, firing at its mangled body.

“Rykal,” I yell, my voice hoarse. “Burn it! It’s about to spill its larvae.”

“On it, boss.” He leaves Zyara’s side and pulls a plasma cannon, setting it to incinerate. I step out of the way as a great blue flare of energy engulfs the Xargek’s corpse.

The smell of burning chitin rises from it as a swarm of tiny, skittering creatures scatters across the floor. I fire at them, but they disperse like a cloud, disappearing into the vegetation.

“Fuck,” I growl. The Xargek, in a final irritating act of defiance, has released its offspring. They’re going to be almost impossible to find until they’ve grown larger.

I will not abandon this station until we’ve found and killed each and every one of them. It’s not for the Humans that I’m doing it. It’s for the entire Nine Galaxies. For the Kordolian Empire. We cannot allow the Xargek to gain a foothold in any sector.

And the Humans can’t defend against them on their own. They’re weak.

I activate my comm. “First Division,” I snap, “be aware that our little Xargek problem has now increased by a factor of a hundred. Be alert and exterminate. I want all of them destroyed before we leave this station. As usual, eliminate at all costs. But try not to kill too many Humans in the process. I don’t want to deal with another fucking inquiry from the Universal Interspecies Relations Committee.” The UIRC is more symbolic than anything else; they have no real power over us, but their endless requests for information can become a real pain-in-the-ass.

Several Kordolian voices filter through my receiver, answering in the affirmative. Satisfied, I turn to Zyara and the Human, who are maneuvering the hover-stretcher away from the scene of destruction. Behind us, the Xargek’s foul-smelling yellow blood seeps across the floor, vapor rising it as it burns the surface.

We brought the creatures here. Now we have to take care of the problem.

“Our medical bay is this way.” The Human soldier takes the lead, but I hold up a hand.

“No. She comes with us.”

“General?” Zyara’s orange eyes grow wide. “To the ship? But she’s Human.”

Ignoring her, I turn to the female soldier. “Look at her,” I order, “and answer truthfully. Will your Human medicine be able to restore her?”

A look of intense discomfort crosses the Human’s face as she looks down at Abbey’s injuries. “I’m no doctor, General, but I’ve seen injuries like that before. They’ll patch her up here, but she needs to go back to Earth. The trip will take its toll. If she’s lucky, she’ll hold out. If not…” She shrugged, unable to conceal the shadow of worry that crossed her features.

“Not good enough.” I try to keep the disdain from creeping into my voice. Are these Humans so primitive that they can only provide basic medical care on their outposts? “She comes with us.”

Zyara shoots me a questioning look but keeps her mouth shut. She knows my word is absolute.

I leave Rykal hunting Xargek larvae in the bushes as we escort Abbey towards the docking bay. Zyara’s given her a painkiller, and she’s drifted off to sleep. She must have been in agony, but never once did she complain.

She may have a weak body, but inside she’s tough. What a shame she wasn’t born Kordolian. She would have made a worthy mate.

As we reach Silence, one of the Human mechanics breaks ranks and rushes over to us. I hold the small dark-haired female back with one hand, and she flails about desperately. “Stand down,” I tell her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“She’s my friend,” the Human gasps. “What the fuck have you done to her? Oh my God, Abbey!”

Abbey’s unresponsiveness seems to work her friend into more of a frenzy. “Let go of me, you asshole!” She says something in some Human language that sounds suspiciously like curse-words. I hold her back with ease, her movements ineffective. She tries to scratch me, but her blows glance off my armor as if they were water.

“Calm down, female.” I grab both of her arms. She stills immediately, and I sense her fear. “Or I’ll have you restrained.” I try to soften my tone. “We aren’t going to hurt her. She’s injured and I can help her.”

“Why would you want to help her?”

It’s a good question. Why am I going out of my way to help this insignificant creature? I should leave her to her fate, but her plight stirs something deep within me. She’s a victim of the Empire, just like so many before her. We Kordolians leave a trail of death and destruction in our wake

“You ask too many questions, Human. Get out of the way.” I hold her back as Zyara passes with Abbey on the stretcher. Still the small woman struggles, even though she knows she’s no match for me.

I’ve come to the conclusion that all Human females are crazy.

“Don’t you tell me to get out of the way,” she snarls. “That’s my friend. You at least owe me an explanation.”

“No, I don’t.” I glance at her uniform, which is stained with grease. “You’re a mechanic?”

“What’s it to you?” Her dark eyes are full of hostility.

“How long until the hull repairs are complete?”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “I’m not telling you anything until you tell me what you’re planning to do with Abbey.”

“I’m taking her to my planet for treatment.”

“Why can’t you just take her to Earth?”

“We will be traveling on emergency oxygen, through a wormhole. There isn’t enough to sustain a detour to Earth and get us back in a single trip.” Not to mention there’s no way I’m landing on a planet full of potential hostiles without the Kordolian Fleet to back me up. I release the mechanic’s wrists once she stops resisting. She makes a face and rubs them. “Again, I’ll ask. How long until the hull is serviceable?”

“You’re really taking her to your planet? Won’t she be in danger? From what I’ve heard, your people aren’t the most welcoming bunch.”

I glare at her. “They won’t try anything. Not if she’s with me.”

“How can I trust you?”

I start to grow impatient. “Human, the longer you waste time here, the longer it will take for your friend to receive treatment. Answer my question, or get out of the way.”

She looks at me for a moment, as if weighing up whether she can trust me. I don’t really care. If she won’t give me the information I need, I’ll find another Human. One with sense.

Eventually, she pushes her hands into her pockets and sighs. “We’ve got one more patch to do, then she’ll be serviceable. Obviously, you’ll want to do permanent repairs when you get her back to your planet. But she’ll be good for at least a week.” She narrows her eyes. “You better take care of her, General, or I’ll be coming after you.”

It’s an idle threat, but I have to admire her loyalty to her friend. “She’s my responsibility now, mechanic, and I don’t take my responsibilities lightly.”

* * *

I must have been out for some time. Stuff must have happened. Because when I come to, I’m floating.

“What the?” I try to yell, but my voice comes out as a hollow echo. I can instantly see why. I squirm, my arms flailing about in the water.

I’m floating. I’m in a tank of sorts, with lines and monitors hooked up to me. It’s cold. That’s the first thing I notice. It’s freezing, and the chill seeps right through me. I’m suspended and trussed up like an experimental guinea pig in a lab.

Over my face is a sleek, clear helmet, supplying fresh air and allowing me to see.

“Ahh.” I let out a strangled whimper; a sound of shock. What the hell have these Kordolians done to me?

My legs are all wrapped up in some kind of clear flexible outer coating. The pain’s gone, and I can move them very slightly, but I don’t dare try and kick them. If my memory’s correct, they’re smashed to bits.

Is this the part where the doctor comes and tells me I won’t walk unless I get prosthetic legs? The waiting list for a pair of decent cybernetic legs is years, unless one can find a very generous donor.

The icy liquid surrounding me isn’t water, like I first thought. It’s a bit more viscous, and it has a bluish tinge to it. I’m suspended vertically, staring out at the world through a blue filter.

I look beyond the tank, taking in my surroundings. We’re not in the station medical bay, that’s for sure. This has to be the Kordolian ship. I’ve never seen anything like this before. The walls are black, and the space is dimly lit, with hundreds of tiny luminous blue lights casting a gentle glow. Shadows gather in the corners, and the room is oddly shaped. Instead of straight lines and corners, it’s kind of curved, the walls following some organic pattern.

I feel as if I’m floating in a tank that’s inside an earthy cave, cocooned in layers of darkness.

The size of the tank I’m suspended in reminds me this thing is designed for much larger beings. Kordolians. I’m a Human, and they’re trying to treat me with their Kordolian medicine. Do they even know what works on Humans? I can’t imagine what they’d do to fix my legs.

And do they know that I’m fucking freezing right now?

But despite the cold being so unpleasant, I’m not shivering. That’s strange. I usually break out in goosebumps and shivers at the first trace of cold.

“General,” I yell, my voice muffled by the helmet. My breath mists up the transparent faceplate. “What the hell have you done to me?”

Nothing. An uneasy feeling starts to work its way into my gut. I’m totally helpless, and I have no idea what’s going on. I’m at the mercy of these aliens.

The hundreds of little blue lights blink, and all is silent, save for the low hum of machinery in the background.

I can’t even swim in this viscous blue liquid, because my legs won’t move properly. And I don’t want to try, because I know I have broken bones. I’m surprised I’m even able to flail about a little, considering I’ve jumped off a hundred foot high ladder.

Right now, I’m cold and alone and feeling a little bit afraid.

“General,” I yell again. I realize I don’t even know his name. I think I told him mine. I can barely remember.

Shadowy movement at the edge of my vision tells me there’s someone else in the room. “General Tarak is busy right now. You need to calm down.”

It’s a female voice. She speaks perfect, barely accented Universal. Her calm voice reaches me through what appear to be little speakers in my underwater helmet.

I blink as she steps into the glow of the tank. She’s definitely Kordolian. Like the others, she’s tall and lean. Her long lilac hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail. She’s got the same pointed ears and razor sharp cheekbones and silvery skin, but instead of that freaky living armor, she wears flowing white robes.

Her eyes glow orange, reminding me of a cat’s.

“Be calm, Abbey. You need to stop trying to move about. Otherwise you’ll undo all of my hard work.”

“What is all this? Who are you?”

“I am Zyara al Sirian, healer for the First Division. I’ve stabilized your wounds and put you inside a stasis tank. The bleeding has stopped, but both your legs are broken in several places. I’ve applied fibrogel to the cuts on your body. You also have several broken ribs and a collapsed lung.”

“Oh.” That all sounds rather serious. “Damn.”

“Right now I’m putting some Human blood back into your body. We were able to obtain some from the station medics. You’re lucky that Human and Kordolian biology seem to share some similarities. I think I can work with that.”

I look down and see that one of the lines going into my arms is red. That must be the blood. I shudder, and I’m not sure if it’s the cold or what’s happened in the last few hours that’s affecting me the most.

My memories are a little hazy right now, but I have a vague recollection of the skydome caving in, punctured by the claws of that gigantic, disgusting thing. That cockroach on growth hormones.

A feeling of disgust ripples through me, making my skin crawl. That was the grossest thing I have ever seen in my life. My horror turns to alarm as I remember the emergency shutters coming over the dome, shutting out the light.

“We have no sunlight in the dome,” I gasp. “If the oxygen filters stop working and the biomeric plant stops producing, we’re screwed.”

A blank look crosses Zyara’s face. “I don’t know anything about that. I’m sorry. I’m going to put you back under now. The stasis tank can be unpleasant. I went light on the first dose of sedative, because I wasn’t sure how you’d metabolize it.”

“Wait!” The last thing I want is to be sedated. I need to know what’s happening. “You can’t just knock me out. I don’t even know what’s going to happen to me. When are you going to get me out of this guinea pig tank?”

“Guinea pig?” She shrugs. “I don’t know what that is.”

“I want to be transferred to the station medical bay,” I demand. “Let’s just say I’d like a second opinion. I appreciate you hooking me up to this thing, but I’m Human. I need a Human doctor.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Why the hell not?”

A look of frustration crosses Zyara’s face. “I’m sorry.” She sounds genuinely apologetic. “But General Tarak has told me not to discuss that with you.”

Urgh. That insensitive prick. Just because he got all sentimental and guilty back there when I was lying on the floor of the biomeric facility, doesn’t mean he’s changed.

“Zyara,” I growl, anger darkening my voice. “You tell that big musclehead to get his silver ass over here right now. Don’t you dare sedate me.” I’ve forgotten about the cold. I’m way too livid to think about anything else.

How dare he wire me up like this and stick me in some oversized goldfish bowl? I’m going to demand he hand me over to the Human side. He can’t just keep me here like this.

Zyara clasps her hands together in alarm. She looks shocked. Maybe it’s because I’ve insulted her almighty boss. I don’t care. I just want to get off this ship.

“Musclehead?” General Tarak’s familiar deep voice resonates through the little speakers in my helmet, causing me to shudder. And maybe it’s just the drugs Zyara’s pumped into me, but a weird sensation courses through me, settling in my lower belly.

He emerges from the shadows, the faint blue light reflecting off his hard features. I swear a little vein is pulsating on the side of his head. And his ears do a rapid little twitch.

I’m starting to figure out what that means. He’s annoyed.

“Take me to the station medical bay,” I demand. “I want a Human doctor.”

He scrutinizes me with those unsettling dark red eyes of his, his expression giving nothing away. The fear I felt before comes back, stronger than ever. I’m helpless and I absolutely hate it.

I don’t want to end up as some Kordolian scientist’s dissection project.

I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand in that irritating, arrogant way of his. “Zyara, some privacy.”

“But Sir, I need to monitor—”

“I need to speak to her alone.”

The medic nods and gives him a deferent little bow before disappearing into the shadows.

Tarak steps forward, peering at me through the transparent glass of the tank. A sudden, horrific thought occurs to me and I try to look down.

Am I even wearing anything? Oh, no. They wouldn’t dare. Even aliens have some scruples, right?

Thankfully, I seem to be dressed in a garment that at least hides my naughty bits. It clings to my body in all the right places, kind of like a swimsuit, although my arms, shoulders and midriff are left bare. And of course, both my legs are wrapped in that strange, clear membrane.

Well, this is embarrassing. My attire leaves little to the imagination, and the General is staring.

My anger rises again. He put me in this position. And now he has the nerve to look me up and down like I’m a specimen in a zoo?

“Why are you doing this, General? Why not just let my people treat me?”

“You Humans do not possess the technology.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I would see you restored to your original state. With the injuries you’ve sustained, I don’t believe your medicine is capable of achieving that.”

“That’s not up to you, General. Let me out of here. Please. I need to speak with the other scientists. I need to alert them to the damage in the biomeric facility.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“What do you mean?” A bad feeling settles in the pit of my belly. “Why won’t it be possible, General?”

“We are no longer in Sector Nine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” That bad feeling starts to grow.

“While you were sedated, we successfully navigated a wormhole. We are now in Sector Three, heading towards Kythia.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” I shake my head, ignoring the jolt of pain that shoots through me as I press my hands up against the glass. “You can’t do this to me!”

Tarak inclines his head, seemingly unmoved by my distress. “Your injuries are a result of my negligence, so it is my responsibility to see you restored.”

“What about my needs in all this, General? With all due respect, I don’t want to go to Kythia. I’m needed on the Station. So if you’ll be so kind to just turn this ship around and get me back to Fortuna Tau, I’ll let this slide.”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Again with that line. What do you mean?”

“The wormhole we returned through has collapsed, and we only have enough oxygen for the return trip to Kythia. So you are stuck, little Human.”

Little human? I consider launching into a diatribe about condescending nicknames, but I decide now’s not the time.

“And the people on Fortuna Tau? What about the biomeric plant?”

“I left our main oxygen concentrator on the Station, along with my soldiers, because your oxygen filtering system was damaged, and because our emergency backup would only support three passengers on the return journey. Sacrifices have been made for your sake, Human. An inferior species would not usually receive such treatment. So do not test my patience, Abbey. There is no turning back now.”

“Inferior?” Oh, if only I weren’t stuck in this tank right now. I try to bang against the glass, but my hand moves painfully slowly through the thick liquid. “If I’m so inferior, almighty Kordolian, then why are you even bothering? Is it because you need to feel better for screwing up and turning my life into hell? So you’re taking me away from my people, just because it makes you feel good about yourself? You need to do something about that savior complex of yours, General. It will get you into all kinds of trouble.”

“Enough!” His low voice cuts through my tirade, deep and menacing. I open my mouth to speak, but the expression on his face is enough to make me re-think the expletives I was about to throw at him. That vein I thought I saw bulging on the side of his temple has grown. His ears twitch again, and his fangs are protruding.

Fangs. Oh, my.

Okay, so maybe it’s not a good idea to share my potty-mouth with a Kordolian General. For a moment there, I forgot that this guy comes from one of the most feared races in all of space.

And so far, he’s only tried to help me, in his own bullish kind of way.

We Humans don’t like to be reminded that there are guys out there who are bigger and badder than us. That’s why we keep to ourselves and stay the hell away from the likes of these Kordolians. But if this General is on my side because of some twisted sense of duty, then I’m pretty safe, right?

Still, I get the feeling he’s not telling me everything.

I start to shake. The cold’s finally gotten to me, and my body breaks out in the worst shivers ever, making my teeth rattle in my skull.

“You’re shaking, Human.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” My voice comes out as a stutter. “This thing is arctic. Why the hell does Zyara have to freeze me half to death? I’ll start getting frostbite soon.”

“I’m no medic,” Tarak shrugs, “but I believe the cold slows down cellular damage. Still, you Humans seem quite vulnerable to cold. I will ask her to come now and sedate you.”

Sedate? My shoulders slump, and I close my eyes. You know things are bad when the only way you can escape your situation is to sleep. I let out a deep sigh, my warm breath misting up the faceplate again. “Dope me up then, General. And please, be a good boy and wake me when we land.”

* * *

She’s quiet now, after letting out her anger. Does this tiny female ever run out of energy? Even when finding herself in unfamiliar surroundings, with the wounds she’s sustained, she manages to find the strength to challenge me.

I am rarely ever challenged. This feeling is new for me. And she has a point.

Why did I insist on taking her back to Kythia? When I saw her, lying helpless on the floor, injured and broken, a feeling came over me.

I wanted to make things right.

How very un-Kordlian.

A deeper, more primal part of me simply wanted to take her. To protect her. Mine.

I left the rest of the First Division on the mining station. My soldiers didn’t question my orders, intent on hunting down every last cursed Xargek larva. They know we’ll be back to retrieve them, even if backup has to come the long way. Until their mission is complete, Fortuna Tau is under Kordolian control, and if the station proves to be strategic in our fight against the Xargek, I may even consider keeping it.

They did not question why I was taking this Human female back to Kythia. My soldiers obey me without question, and apart from that crazy female mechanic, the Humans didn’t dare stop me. Zyara raised curious eyebrows, but didn’t say a thing.

For the rest of this journey, she’s my responsibility. Mine.

Her eyes flutter as she stares at me through the clear glass of her respirator. They appear green now, and a blue-green filter has been cast across her face by the liquid in the stasis chamber.

With her fragile body surrounded by various lines and monitors, she looks so small and vulnerable. She’s shaking uncontrollably.

I did not realize Humans were so vulnerable to cold. It must be unpleasant for her. Kythia will be unpleasant for her. But we’ll worry about that when we get there.

Sedation will be a mercy as we complete the final leg of our journey.

She puts a hand up against the glass, as if to reach out to me.

Her brown hair sways gently in the liquid, forming a soft, moving crown around her pale face. Her body fascinates me. Unlike Kordolian females, who are long-limbed, muscular and lean, there is a softness to her. Although hidden by a fitted garment, I can make out the swell of her breasts. They’re full and rounded. Her nipples are erect, two perfect, symmetrical points. I imagine them beneath my fingers, taut with arousal.

Her stomach is exposed, a smooth plane of pale skin leading to rounded hips.

She is small but her body has curves. There is a loveliness to her that is distinctly Human and entirely feminine. And right now, she is completely vulnerable.

I find myself aroused. Her appearance stirs my base instincts. To dominate. To control. To protect. The thought occurs to me that I could keep her on Kythia when she has healed.

But I know she would fight me, each and every step of the way.

That thought stirs my arousal even further. Underneath the exo-suit, I am hard; painfully so. And my headache is starting to return.

I push the insanity from my mind, reminding myself that she’s hurt.

There is something desperately sad about seeing her like this, broken and trapped, shivering and alone.

I will ask Zyara to sedate her.

But I cannot tear my gaze from her.

“What are you waiting for, General?” Even though her voice cracks, she manages to inject a hint of mockery into the question. “Knock me out already.” Her teeth are chattering. She brings her arms up, hugging herself around the chest, trembling.

Alone.

A strong impulse overtakes me there and then. I need to touch her. To be by her side. To stop this infernal shivering of hers. I walk over to the side of the tank, mentally commanding my exo-suit to retract. Billions of microscopic nanites dissolve, entering the pores of my skin, making their way back into my bloodstream. I haul myself up at the side of the tank.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing, General?” Her sometimes-brown, sometimes-green eyes have gone wide.

“Making you warm,” I answer. I pause for a moment, suspended at the edge of the tank, surprised by my own actions. I did not think. It was an instinctive reaction. “If you wish.”

She doesn’t protest at first, her lips parted in surprise. And for the first time, I see hunger in her gaze.

I don’t wait any longer. I plunge into the tank, allowing the blue liquid to engulf me.