Alien Lord’s Slave

CHAPTER ONE

Cynthia had been staring at the same spreadsheet for what seemed like too long. She was supposed to submit her analysis of the rolling budget her manager had prepared from the costings she'd provided. All she had to do was to simply cross reference the figures to see if they matched, nothing that should have taken her three hours, but it was hard to concentrate when her husband’s face kept popping to the forefront of her mind.

And it wasn't only his face, either, but the face of the woman she had caught him with as well. After five years of marriage, she had thought her life with him, though not perfect, was good enough to last a few more years. She certainly didn’t think it would end in this way.

“Cynthia!” she heard her boss call. His office was only three cubicles away, and he had a terrible habit of calling to his employees from there.

“Coming, Mr. Sloan,” she replied, and stood hurriedly. She would just have to wing it. She smoothed her skirt and gripped the file in her hand; it contained the same information as the one in the Microsoft Excel document.

Sloan was drinking coffee when she arrived. He  waved her inside as he sipped and then put the cup aside. He didn’t speak as he took the file she handed to him. “So?” he asked her.

“Well,” she began unsteadily, “the performance variables show that more revenue is being generated than costs are being expended. If you look at the curve--”

“Right,” he said, nodding. “But how does the budget appear this year with respect to other years before? And are we accurately accounting for the time value of the dollars here? Miss Scott, I don’t want to allocate less than we need, nor do I want to overspend in areas I don’t need to.”

There had been times before when she loved her job, but this wasn’t one of them. Mr. Sloan was speaking, but most of what he was saying was going right over her head. She felt like a zombie, and  Jeffrey’s image came to mind once more, and her eyes grew glossy. She bowed her head so he wouldn’t see the telltale signs of her heartbreak.

“Miss Scott?” he asked after a while.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, and tried hard to perk up. She swept her  hair behind her ear, and licked her lips moist. She felt like all the liquid in her body had been diverted to her eyes.

“Are you all right?” he asked. He looked at her as  if  concerned, rested the file on the desk, and leaned into his leather chair.

She sighed. “Honestly, I am just going through some personal issues,” she told him without looking at him.

He bit the tail of his pen and scrutinized her. Then he opened his file and looked through it again. “I guess that explains why you didn’t get much done here. I see the notes section has been left  empty.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said as she reached for the file. “I will look it over and give it back to you by day’s end.”

He held it suspended still, and then rested it back on the desk before him. “Cynthia,” he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose, “you are one of my youngest and brightest analysts, and I won’t have you here like this. My suggestion? Take a few days off and get your head together. I'll have someone handle this and hopefully, when you get back, you will be raring to go.”

He was smiling, and seemed sincere in his offer. “Are you sure, sir? I mean, I could--”

“Nonsense!” he bellowed. “I’ll expect you back in a week.

She asked, not wanting to seem too eager, but the truth of the matter was she could really use some time off. “Thank you, Mr. Sloan,” she said, and backed out of the office. She could feel the weight lifting from her shoulders, but another kind of pressure was taking hold of her heart.

She kept her head held down as she made her way out of the office, trying not to grab the attention of  her nosy coworkers, but they seemed too distracted by the loads of work that accompanied the month's end that she probably appeared to them as nothing more than a blur in the distance.

When she got to her car, she flopped down into the seat, and took a moment to catch her breath and steady her heart before she turned the key in the ignition and headed home.

Home was where most of her demons lay. As she pulled into the driveway of her suburban home, the manicured lawn only served to remind her of their picnics in the park; her stoop was where they'd sat many nights and stargazed; her kitchen was where they'd shared  delectable dinners; and her bedroom…that was a place she could hardly stand now.

She gazed up the stairs, decided against it,  went to the refrigerator, and grabbed a beer, a six-pack she had bought and befriended over the past week. Cynthia went back to the living room and fell on the couch. This time she couldn’t hold back the tears, despite the beer.

She was knee deep in her salty lake of tears when she heard the phone ringing. She glanced at it, and groaned before reaching for the device.

“Hello?” she croaked.

“Is this Miss Cynthia Scott?” the caller asked.

“Yes,” she replied, already planning a response for the potential telemarketer.

“This is Sally, from Wildlife Reservations. Are you still interested in the cabin?”

That’s right! She had made plans to go there with Jeffrey, and completely forgotten about it. She was about to refuse when she thought that a week to herself was exactly what she needed.

“You know what? Yes, I'm still interested. Thanks for calling,” she said.

“Okay, Miss Scott,” the caller replied cheerfully, and hung up.

The timing was perfect, as she only now had a week to spare. Her trip would, hopefully, leave her rejuvenated for her return to the office. Her mind drifted to Jeffrey, and she wondered what he was doing. Her first assumption made her face grow red, and she stomped to the storage cabinet where she yanked her suitcase free and hauled it upstairs.

CHAPTER TWO

The air was crisp, kind and forgiving, and she held her head up towards the green and yellow blanket of leaves overhead. The sun forced its way through, hitting her arms and feet, projecting colored patterns on her clothes and body. She was barefoot at the moment, and she wriggled her toes in the cool grass as she enjoyed all that nature had to offer by way of comfort. She wrapped the shawl around her to stave off the morning's stubborn chill,  and walked along the path. For the next few minutes her mind had completely forgotten the name Jeffrey, and her lips managed an upward slant.

She found the boardwalk at the beginning of the pier and walked to the water’s edge. She sat there and dangled her feet in the water, enjoying the coolness on her skin. Her eyes wandered along the water’s edge, all the way to the coast, until a glint struck her eye, causing temporary blindness.

“What the hell?” she asked. She held her head back this time, trying to avoid the effect, should it happen again, when she noticed what she thought was a piece of metal through the trees. “Now that’s odd,” she thought aloud. She had been there before, and technology was usually absent from this environment. A piece of metal through the trees was a virtually impossible occurrence, yet there it was now, distinct through the green and yellow foliage.

As if in a trance she got up, went back down the boardwalk, and back on the trail. She kept her eyes peeled forward, searching for any signs of a possible wreckage. Maybe a small plane had crashed and there were injured people out there. The thought of that made her walk faster, until she got to where she thought she had seen the object, only  nothing was there now. She turned about, thinking maybe she had veered onto the wrong path, but when she looked through the trees, she could see the end of the pier where she was sitting before. She was standing in the right spot, but there was nothing metallic and shiny there.

“I must be losing it,” she muttered to herself. She pulled the shawl around her and turned to walk back. Her heart stopped, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw the figure standing before her. It was like a man, only not. He was tall, and his skin a ‘whiter shade of pale.’ His yellow hair was pinned at his nape in a ponytail, and he wore only trousers; the rest of his body was painted in black and white swirls going around his middle and to his back. It was hard not to notice his bulging muscles, except, of course, when she was noticing that he wasn’t human.

Her eyes nearly popped from her sockets when he stepped closer. She  started to retreat, but in the same moment, the gleam struck her eye again, and she noticed the metal object.

“Over here!” she said and waved, in a desperate bid to distract him. It worked. When he turned to look, she dashed off in the opposite direction. The fact that she hadn’t worked out in a long time, or even ran anywhere, for that matter, made it easy for the muscled alien to catch up with her. She screamed when she felt his shadow clawing at her, and when he grabbed her, they both fell. His hand came down over mouth, and then she smelled something awful. By the time her brain had registered the smell, her head was spinning, as were the trees above her. The last thing she saw was the smile on his face as he brought his face closer to hers.

************

Cynthia woke suddenly from her sleep, and the act gave her a terrible headache.  She rested her palms against her temples to quell the rising pressure there, and looked around her. She could barely make anything out, but when her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she saw that she was in the company of several other women. They were slowly waking up, too, some had already woken, and all of them seemed frightened. This was exactly the emotion she should be feeling, but for some reason, she felt only numb instead.

“Oh, you are all awake,” the figure said as he entered the room. He turned on the blue lights, and she saw that he was the same man she had seen on the trail.

“What is this?” one woman asked.

He looked at her as if he was about to answer and then turned to the other women. “I am Bracken, and I am from the planet Argon. You have been specially chosen to be life mates for our men,” he told them. “Right about now you should be feeling a slight pinch on your arms, right there,” he said, indicating the bicep region.

All eyes focused there, and Cynthia could hardly believe she hadn’t noticed it before. “What is that?” she managed to ask.

“That is how we will be able to communicate. Relax, and enjoy the trip,” he said, and moved off.

“Hey, Bracken,” she called after him. She had had enough of men at the moment, and she could hardly believe they were sailing off into space with a cargo of women destined to become wives for alien husbands. That was the last thing she wanted.

He stopped and turned toward her. “Do not speak to me,” he said, condescendingly.

“I will speak to anyone or anything I please,” she replied. “You came to our world and kidnapped us, and you expect me to be silent and fall in line? That’s not going to happen, and if you think I'm going to this Argon place to sleep with any of--” And that was all she said.

She had not seen the other man behind them who had walked stealthily up behind her and knocked her unconscious.

CHAPTER THREE

This time, when Cynthia’s eyes reopened, the headache was worse, and she was no longer in the room. Or that room, at least. This time she was shackled to a chain of women, in a room painted white. She was surprised that she'd been unconscious for the arrival and the moving and wondered if she hadn't suffered some kind of concussion.

There was a loud whooshing sound, followed by four men who seemed to float into the room. “Get up!” one of them commanded. Cynthia wanted to protest, but the throbbing in her head reminded her to be still, at least for now. The women rallied themselves to a stand, after which they were led outside. And that’s where the oddity spiraled out of control.

If Cynthia didn’t believe it before, she had no reason now to think she was still on Earth. When she stepped outside, she saw air scooters, robots accompanying people around, and tall buildings shaped like those from the cartoon she'd watched in childhood, called The Jetsons. She blinked rapidly as she took in the sight, and followed the men onto the paved street. She looked around. It was hard not to notice the glaring absence of women.

“No wonder they need us,” she muttered.

“I noticed that, too,” the woman behind her leaned forward and said.  “I think they need us to procreate, but I’ll be damned--”

“Keep moving,” one of the men shouted, and she straightened up instantly, her mouth clamming shut at once.

Cynthia’s eyes glared at  the strange, triangular-shaped buildings, and the others that seemed to be floating, hanging suspended in the air like a crib mobile. But where they were headed was not as sophisticated, as they were all stuffed inside the back of a giant vessel shaped like a blimp, and then carted off to a destination unknown. What was striking, when she turned and looked to the street that was now disappearing, was how similar the men appeared. It reminded her of the virus, Mr. Smith, in The Matrix, when he multiplied to fight Neo.

The journey didn’t take long, and when the doors opened again, they were led to a large metal cage. There was a huge tarpaulin-like covering that was attached from the four corners of a fence. Underneath was a sea of women, composed of all races, ages, and shapes. They all gasped as they joined the nameless, faceless throng, and like the others before, they began to protest.

“What is this place?” she asked as she turned around. “How long have you been here?” she asked a woman next to her who seemed too dazed to fight anymore.

“About two days,” she said, and then turned and looked Cynthia directly in the eyes. “They'll like you,” she said, and then faced front again, without another word.

“What does that mean?” she asked, but the woman had moved on to the nothing she was engrossed in before.

They spent the majority of the day there, and when it was close to evening, the gates opened, and several of the women were hauled off.

“Where are they going?” she asked. “Hey!”

“Hey!” an African-American woman shouted at her. “Would you stop drawing attention to yourself? Damn girl!” she said, frustrated. She shook her head and wiped the sweat from her chest.

Cynthia creeped closer to the woman, who eyed her suspiciously. “Do you know what they're  doing to the women they take?” It wasn’t that she was overly concerned about them--she was curious to know her own fate.

The woman looked across at her, sighed, and then responded,  “They open the gate every day and take out a few of the women. I don’t know what they do with them, but they never come back.”

Cynthia was silent for a few minutes, and then she looked to the gate. There were two men standing there, and heavily guarded at that. Her chances of escape were zero to none. “There are no women here,” she finally uttered. “They take them home.”

“You think?” the woman said sarcastically, and scoffed, “I just hope I get a good one.”

“How can you hope for that? They took us from our homes to this. Don’t you have a life you want to get back to?” she asked the woman.

The woman looked at her, and answered her directly, “Not really.” And that was the end of the conversation.

Cynthia may have had a deep-rooted hatred for Jeffrey, but she had a life she wanted to get back to nevertheless, and she wasn’t comfortable being someone’s child bearing machine, besides. “Well, I do.”

“Good luck with that,” another woman, this one Latino, who had been eavesdropping, responded.

“Yeah,” Cynthia replied.

But as the minutes rolled into hours, and the hours turned to days, her attitude had changed to match the women who had gotten there first. Each day a group of women were taken away, and Cynthia waited anxiously for her walk to the gallows.

It was the morning of the fifth day, after not having showered since she'd had arrived, and having eaten strange green plants that she could not recognize with something that looked like venison,  that the gates rolled open once more. By this time, it didn’t bring as much excitement and eye rolling. She was leaning against the fence, watching that strange world float by.

“You, there,” she heard a voice say from behind her. She didn’t bother looking to see who the poor girl was this time.  Maybe it was better if she remained in the tent than be subjected to a life of sexual slavery. “You, at the fence,” the voice shouted, getting closer as it did.

This time she did turn around, as she realized she was being summoned. She looked around with wild eyes, and moved off with shaky legs. The women stared at her, some with sympathetic eyes, and others with nonchalance. She moved through the crowd, like a prisoner to her execution, and joined nine other women as they were led through the gates and to a large, grey building, not too far away.

CHAPTER FOUR

Darius had grown weary of the show he had to participate in every so often. As Lord of Argon, he was required to oversee the selection process, and to ensure that the humans were not mistreated. After all, they would serve as the foundation for their future. Argon had started out as a fruitful civilization with modern housing structures, playful characters, and plenty to eat. Then there was the Great War, that left the planet pillaged, plundered, and looted of both jewelry and women. The aftermath was a broken world of  shattered men. They managed to repair the infrastructure, but as far as generations went, Darius knew they wouldn’t survive on their own. Sooner or later they'd die off, and Argon would cease to exist. It was out of that desperation that was born the idea to ‘import’ women, and from the best place they could find them--Earth!

But he was growing weary. It had been three years since they'd started this mass importation, but he hadn’t found a single woman he thought  fit to be his mate. They were all so weak, fragile, or frightened of them. In hindsight, he couldn’t blame them, either. Who would so easily warm to being kidnapped and kept on another planet for their usefulness in breeding?

“Are the others ready?” he asked as he stood in the Great Hall, his long, white coat falling to his feet. His hair was pulled back to his nape in a ponytail, similar to the way the rest of the men from Argon wore theirs.

“Yes, my lord,” one of the servants replied as he made a slight bow. Reverence was still practiced, but not out of fear. The people loved and respected Darius, and they, too, hoped he would find a woman he wanted.

When he entered the room, he saw that the other men were already seated, and he took his place at the center of them. They were behind a long, chrome-looking table, and resembled a panel of judges at a beauty contest.

“I hope this is a good batch,” one of them leaned over and said to him. “The others yesterday left nothing to be desired.”

“I agree,” he said to the man while still looking forward. “We should perhaps set a standard for the women we bring here.”

“I was about to suggest the same thing, my lord,” the one to his left joined in. “I was lucky when I got Amanda,” he said, the blush so visible on his pale skin, he resembled a cherub.

“Well, I can only hope the rest of us can be as fortunate,” Darius said. “Hush now, here they come.”

The men shuffled in their seats and watched as the batch of ten women entered the room. Each of them wore a white gown, and was fresh from the bath they had been given after they'd left the compound. Three guards walked with them,one at the front, one in the back, and the other walking between them in the middle. Painted all white, they marched to the front of the huge room, with a glass ceiling overhead that seemed quite effective against the sun.

After they were assembled alongside each other, facing the panel of men, Darius made his announcement: “Welcome to Argon. You have been specifically chosen to become one  of us.” He  extended his arms. “Let the selection process begin!”

The ceremony  ended with  a line of men entering the room and standing before the women. There was an immediate buzz of excited chatter as the men discussed the women, and who preferred whom.

“Let me go,” one of the women snapped when the man touched her.

“I like her,” another said, and then the brawl began as the men started fighting over her.

“Gentlemen!” Darius boomed. “Keep it clean!”

“I saw her first,” the first man explained. “Now Zar seeks to take her from me.”

“There are enough of them to go around. Choose another,” Darius said, the frustration already evident on his brow.

Grudgingly, both men walked along, but their eyes kept wandering back to the woman. Another man stepped up to her, but like before, she retaliated. This time she spat, and left her slime oozing down the man’s pale face. He raised his hand to slap her, when one of the guards caught him.

“I wouldn’t advise that,” he growled. “Move along.”

It was that second incident that drew Darius’s attention, even more than the first, and he looked over now to see what the commotion was all about. It wasn’t until the guard moved aside that he understood. She had the same honey blonde hair as his. It fell to her shoulders. When her eyes swept the floor and caught his, there was nothing but fire there.

He was electrified and compelled to move. The other men grew still when he stood and went to her. “What is your name?” he asked her.

She shrugged off the guard, and turned her head away, determined not to answer him. But he took her face with his index finger beneath her chin--it felt cold to the touch--and brought her face around. “Cynthia,” she replied.

He could feel her repelling him through the very fabric of her skin, and somehow it excited him. A smile crept onto his face when he looked into her eyes and saw only defiance, without fear.

“Well, Cynthia of Earth, I am Darius, Lord of Argon, and you are mine!”

And with that he turned and walked away, and she was ushered off behind him.

CHAPTER FIVE

Cynthia protested the entire time she was led away, but instead of being led outdoors like the others, she was made to wait for him inside. The gall! She folded her arms and stewed in her anger until all the women had cleared out.

“Come,” he said,  and then walked right past her.

He had a strange and overbearing smell that tickled her nose until she had to  sneeze. He paused and looked back at her as she did, a curious expression  on his face. She straightened herself up, locked her fingers before her, head held high as if  she were of royal stature, and walked off again. She thought she saw a glimmer of something in his eye, and she smiled inwardly. She still had some sway, even on another planet.

The ride in the hovercraft was uneventful at best. It was constructed mostly from glass, transparent on the sides and the top, so she had something to look at to keep her busy. He stared at her. She didn't see him doing this directly,  but she could feel him exploring her, as if he were trying to mentally tap into her.

It didn’t take long for her to discover her purpose on Argon. As soon as she stepped inside the room, a smaller part of what seemed to be a large fun house, he gripped her hand and pulled her to another room.

She knew what was about to happen when she saw the bed. “Oh, no!” she protested, and pulled her hand from his.

“Look,” he hissed, turning quickly  so his ponytail whipped  over his shoulder and landed on his breast. “This is why you are here, and this is what you will do. Now, go and remove your clothes.”

Darius did not know how the women of Earth reacted in bed, or how to woo them, but he was pressed for time. He wasn’t even sure how long it took for an Earth woman to become with child, or the length of time it would take for the baby to come out. He had seen others before, but he had no idea what the babies would be like, what his child might  become, and he wasn’t about to postpone the inevitable and further delay his anxiety.

“Is this how your men treat their women?” she asked, as if she'd read his mind.

“How do men of Earth make babies?” he asked. He was curious to know if there was another way that went against what he knew.

“Well,  he would take her out or something first.” Cynthia knew what she was saying was irrelevant; she had been kidnapped and taken to another planet where women were not worshipped. What hope did she have that her ‘master’ would take her out on a date?

Darius wasn’t about to entertain her. Without seeming to move, he deftly removed his clothing and advanced on her. Cynthia backed away, nervous and frightened, though she couldn’t help but notice how his body moved to a silent rhythm. He got to her, gripped her left wrist, and pulled her, kicking and screaming, to the bed.

“No! Stop!” she shouted.

Darius hesitated when she grew tense and started shouting. He shoved her onto the bed and stood there looking at her. Her body was moving, but it wasn’t ecstasy--she was trembling, and for the first time he saw fear in her eyes. He froze, second guessed his decision, and walked out, before he did something regrettable. After all, he was a man of honor, and he would not be called one who forced himself on a woman, not even one kidnapped from Earth.

Cynthia lay there after he had gone, her heart thumping in her chest, her thoughts buzzing. She gripped the white fabric, still covering her bare necessities, and straightened herself on the bed.

She heard footsteps  shortly after that, and a woman appeared, a human girl. She was about Cynthia’s age, with black hair cropped short, and dark eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was in here,” she said, and prepared to exit.

“No, don’t go,” Cynthia said and got up so quickly she practically flew. She caught the girl by the arm and clung to her.

The girl stood there, her eyes moving slowly to meet Cynthia's. “I’m sorry, but I must go before Lord Darius returns.”

“Lord Darius?” Cynthia asked. She released the woman, who stood there, her hands clasped before her. She was wearing the same kind of clothing as Cynthia, only in  a lighter shade of yellow.

“Yes. He is the master of this house,” she replied.

“Have you been here long?” Cynthia wanted to know. The woman had a look of familiarity about her, like she had been there a while and had finally managed to fit in.

“From the beginning. Do not aggravate him,” she volunteered. “He is a good man, kind on occasion. He chose me then, and I had hoped he would make me his mate. He didn’t.” Her eyes grew glossy then, and she turned her head away. “He only wanted someone to keep house. Which means you are going to be either one or the other.”

“Why would you hope to be his mate?” Cynthia pressed. She couldn’t fathom that possibility after being held against her will.

“My life was shit before this,” she managed to say. “What more could you ask for  than to be the mate of the Lord of another planet? You would be a fool to deny him. Excuse me,” she said, and walked off before Cynthia could get another word in.

After the girl had gone, Cynthia remained there, rooted to the spot. What was blatantly clear was that she had no hope of ever escaping. Not unless she was able to make Lord Darius her friend. He, if no one else, had the power to send her home, and she would rather be free in a life that seemed meaningless, than one where she was a slave.

One thing was sure: she wouldn’t gain his trust by pushing him away. At this rate he might just wind up sending her back to the compound. She knew what she had to do. She walked back to the bed, climbed back in,  and lay there in wait for him, naked beneath the sheet.

CHAPTER SIX

Darius was shocked when he returned later that night and found the human girl, naked in his bed. Earlier, when he had imagined what she might look like, he never expected this.  Everything he thought before was wrong. Where he had imagined a body sagging and unappealing, he found, instead, a woman with pale skin, and breasts that kissed each other as she lay on her side. Her legs were curled around each other, and one of her arms was propped against the side of her head. She wore a smile, one that moved him, and when he looked into her blue eyes--eyes that resembled his own--his former plan to rid himself of her were dismissed.

He moved closer to her. She lay still, with no hint of fear in her eyes, and her body called to him in ways he never knew communication was possible. His eyes moved to her chest, and he captured the way it heaved, perhaps in her anticipation, perhaps in need. He could not be sure what she felt, but he was acutely keen of  the increasing hardness in his member below, begging for attention.

He held her stare, and when he got within inches of her, she rose, her  firm and perky breasts beckoned to him, and he yielded to her. Almost as if hypnotized, he lowered his head, and with the tip of his tongue, which to her felt as cold as a snowflake, slithered it over her peak. She shuddered, not knowing what she should have expected, and then bit her lip as familiar sensations overcame her. She slowly relaxed, and allowed him to have his way with her. And he did.

He tugged at her taut nipples, commanding them to stay firm, even as his hands groped her body. He breathed her in, and like toxic fumes, she poisoned him, filling his mind with only thoughts of her, and his body with intense lust. Darius groaned, as his lower region enflamed and spurred him into action. He stood, almost suddenly, and tore his clothing from his body.

Cynthia looked at him in awe, wild eyed amazement setting root, and she forgot, in that moment, where  she was and the purpose for which she had been taken. Instead, she wanted him in a strange way. When he held his aching appendage and guided it effortlessly into her, they became lost in a world of their own creation. She dug her nails into him, and arched her back, and he penetrated her, with force, and intensified need. Her walls closed in around him, and Darius found the warmth and pleasure this human generated quite satisfying. His strokes grew harder and quicker, until she was rocking and moaning. He could feel the sting in his back where her nails found home, which only served to make  his eyes grow redder.

Soon, he pulled away and lay next to her. Her back was to him, and she twisted her head around so she could watch him. He swooped down and brought his lips to hers, kissing her most ferociously until he could almost feel her blood on his tongue. Then he gripped her hip, and his member found its home once more. He was breathing hard as he entered her again and again, and soon, their lips were forced apart as their convulsions grew stronger. He felt the fluid building up inside him, and his body slapped hard against hers, as he shuddered and spilled everything inside her.

When he was done, he rolled off the bed and walked away.

Cynthia remained in the same position, breathless. Her panting slowly grew normal, and anger replaced the passion she had just felt. It had been a long time since she'd been intimate with a man, not since Jeffrey, and being with Lord Darius had not been a bad restart. Still, the way he had just cast her off when he was done with her drove her mad, and she let out a gut-wrenching scream. She was in the act of punching the bed when he returned.

“Is something the matter?” he asked her.  The men of Argon were proud of their stature and sexuality, and he immediately thought he had displeased her.

She turned her head toward him, angry eyes glowering at him. “I’m fine,” she said, and wiped away the loose strands of hair that were clinging to her forehead. It seemed, even on Argon, the men were insensitive.

“Did I displease you?” he asked. She didn’t know it, but Lord Darius did not mke it a habit to be concerned with the feelings of the women he slept with, but  something was strangely different about this woman of Earth.

“No!” she snapped. “It was just…odd, the way you walked out just then. Usually the men stay after.” Her  voice lowered as she continued.  “Anyway, where can I wash up?” She stood looking at him, too proud and determined to appear weak and vulnerable.

He stepped forward, and as with everything else, commanded her attention. He used his index finger to tilt her head upwards. “What else would the men of Earth do?” he asked.

Cynthia smiled for the first time since she'd been on the planet. She could see his desire for her clearly written on his face, and she smiled back. He would be her ticket out of there, but he didn’t know it just yet.

She reached out, determined to make a show of it, and curled her hand around his neck. She brought his lips to within an inch of hers, and against his skin, she whispered, "The men of Earth would do it again." She walked away, and like a snake charmer, the cobra followed. In the silence of the great house, only their cries rang out, as Lord Darius gave himself over to this lesser being he was yet to understand, but greatly desired.

CHAPTER 7

Cynthia woke the following morning, disillusioned and hazy. She looked around and saw that she was alone in the room. In a different room. She sprang to life, gripping the thin fabric loosely wrapped around her, and headed for the opening. She was just at the door when she ran into the human servant.

“Beg your pardon,” she said as she almost collided with her. She  held her head down and walked around Cynthia. “Lord Darius asked me to make the beds.” She proceeded to the far wall where she pressed a button. An opening appeared in the wall and the bed rolled inside it. There was a whooshing sound, and  the wall spat out the now neatly made bed.

“Hmm,” Cynthia said, impressed. “I’d like to have one of those.” The girl looked up and smiled, and then went over to the table on the other side of the room. “Is there a button for breakfast too?” Cynthia asked.

The girl chuckled softly. “There is a button for most things. Breakfast, I make,” she said, and moved past Cynthia once more.

“How do you like living here? What’s your name?” Cynthia asked. . The girl seemed in a hurry to leave, and Cynthia was desperate for the company. She wasn’t as of yet sure of the place she was in, and she was anxious about being alone.

“It’s fine, and I’m Annette,” she said. She walked off when she  caught Lord Darius returning. He gave her a stern look and then looked to Cynthia.

“Was she bothering you?” he asked. He seemed to be making an effort at avoiding eye contact.

Cynthia took this as a good sign and wandered over. She was tracing her hand along his spine when he shrugged her off. “I need to get to the council,” he said, and stepped out.

She stood there, paralyzed by his rejection of her advances. “What am I to do all day?” she inquired.

“You can go to the courtyard. Be back in bed by the time I get back,” he said in a commanding tone.

“Speaking of bed, you left mine quite early,” she told him. “I thought you wanted to make sure we made a child.” She stood there, resembling a servant of Rome in all those biblical movies she'd seen on late-night television.

“We don’t usually sleep in the same bed as the women,” he told her. He  eyed her curiously.

Just then there was crash at the back of the room, as if something had fallen to the ground. His pale face darkened in color, and his voice thundered, “What was that?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I wasn’t paying attention, and--” Annette  seemed fearful of Darius, and she continued to ramble apologetically.

“Could you be any clumsier?” he asked and stormed off.

Cynthia looked at Annette  for a brief second before she dashed across the room and disappeared again.

Cynthia stood there, quite appalled that he could be that unkind to something over something so trivial, and she felt the need to defend the girl. It was already hard enough being a slave to an alien, but to be one to a cruel alien Lord as well?

“Darius, was that--”

“Lord Darius!” he corrected her, lest she forget her place. He turned back to her.

Cynthia’s thought froze and she suddenly forgot what she was about to say. He peered at her from behind his blue eyes, waiting for the rest of her statement, but she could see it wouldn’t meet fertile soil, so she recoiled and tucked her fangs away. “Never mind,” she said, and slowly turned away from him.

He disappeared behind the wall, and she was relieved she was no longer under his scrutiny. Her emotions regarding him fluctuated between admiration and anger, and she grew even more anxious to escape this godforsaken place. She gripped the thin fabric around her and walked softly and warily, to the window. She kept glancing behind her, as if she expected him to come up behind her and toss her back into the room.

The world was already buzzing outside. She saw scooters whizzing by the window, hovercrafts settling below, and Argonites disembarking from both. There was laughter and happiness, something she had forgotten the sound of.

For the first time in a while, she thought of Jeffrey. Things had been so different a year ago--they had been making plans to start a family and…it didn't matter. It was useless bringing the rest to memory.

Her mind had grown so blank, she didn’t hear Darius come up behind her.

“So, are you with child as yet?” he asked. That was it—no formality, no greeting, just  business as usual.

“I wouldn't  know yet,” Cynthia replied. She wasn’t sure if it was even possible for the two of them to  conceive, and she suddenly wondered what might happen to her if she couldn’t.

“Then when?” he asked. He seemed irritated and impatient, and he shifted on his feet as he waited her reply.

“Well, it's only been two times, and the female cycle is different for every woman. The more times that we…” She paused when she realized what she was setting up herself for.

He had gotten the gist, and took her by the  hand. “Let’s go then,” he said, and tugged her along behind him.

She was willing to seduce him, to bend him to her will, but how was she going to overcome his might and dominance? In a desperate attempt to  maintain the upper-hand,  she stopped. Her abruptness startled him.

“Is this how you plan to be? I thought you wanted a mate, not just a vessel for your child,” she said, feigning hurt.

He came closer and leveled his eyes with hers. “What’s the difference?” he asked. He pulled her to him, kissing her forcefully.

Once again she was swept along by his current, and in control of nothing.

CHAPTER 8

Darius got up from the bed and stole out into the night. He needed to clear his mind of the human woman he'd left in his bed. It was their custom to sleep in separate rooms, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to pull himself away from her. He felt a magnetic attraction when he was with her, one that even he could not deny.

He wiped his hand down his face and then locked his hands behind him.

“Is something the matter, my Lord?” A young man hurried over to ask him.

“No, everything is fine Jakob,” he told the man. “I just needed some air.”

“Very well, sir,” he replied. He took two steps back, and then turned to hurry  off again.

Darius  ventured into the courtyard, which was always kept lit, and walked the serpentine path that passed beneath her window. He sat on the oval bench atop the perfectly kept lawn, and sat there looking up at the place she slept, feeling weak, vulnerable, and very unlike the leader he was. The irony was he needed her to maintain his position.

His mind was still quite unsettled when he returned to the solitude of his bed an hour later.

************

Cynthia had never been pregnant before, so she didn’t realize immediately when the symptoms manifested themselves. She was standing on the terrace, watching the good people of Argon from the only place she was allowed, when she felt suddenly light headed. She swooned, and gripped the steel bars as she tried to compose herself. She reached for the chair and sat, just as a wave of uneasiness washed over her. She rested her head on the cushioned seat and closed her eyes, trying to will her upset stomach away. When she opened them again, he was standing there, looking at her, much too intently.

Before she was able to analyze his face, he began to smile. He stood upright, and in that moment he seemed even more puffed up with pride. It wasn’t until he lowered himself and brought his hand to rest on her still flat stomach that she acknowledged her present condition. She bounded from the chair, and he caught her before she could go far.

“You are going nowhere, little flower,” he whispered into her ear, and crushed her in an embrace.

Cynthia wanted to flee. She did not want to believe she was already carrying an alien child within her, but  she could no longer deny the attraction she for him. She had convinced herself she was using him as her means of escape, but somewhere along the way, she had gotten lost. She no longer saw him as cruel, but as a strong and respected leader. She had also seen some changes in him, mostly in the way he looked at her, but she wasn’t quite sure she'd be able to open up fully to another man, even one as handsome and powerful as Darius. The image of Jeffrey still haunted her, and she had not yet escaped the hurt he'd inflicted. 

“I’m not sure that’s the reason. Maybe it’s the food I ate this morning,” she offered, already afraid of what being pregnant might mean.

He held her at arms' length, his blue eyes lit and sparkling, and melting the parts of her she tried to keep hardened. “You have my child growing within you. You are really mine, now,” he said to her.

Darius seemed to transform before her very eyes. He took her hand and led her back to the bed, the one he usually slept in, alone. This time, instead of commanding her, he was more reverent. Cynthia stood there, mesmerized, as he used both of his hands to slide the silk dress from her shoulders. He locked eyes with her and held her gaze  as he lifted her and placed her on the strange bed. Her heart was racing in anticipation of what felt like the first time, even though there had been many in the month she had been with him.

He kissed her hand, her stomach, her breasts, and then ended on lips that were ready for him by the time he got there. Cynthia struggled inwardly, trying to deny this was real, that it was no more than a means to an end, but everything else in her was screaming otherwise.

Her fingers curled around his neck, and despite her inner turmoil, she opened up herself to him, and her lips accepted his. Their tongues engaged in a friendly duel until their breathing began to intensify. Darius flattened his palm against the small of her back, and his touch seemed to sear her skin. She shivered, and pressed closer to him as his other hand surveyed the rest of her body.

His long, golden hair fell over his shoulder, and her hand moved to grab a fistful as his head found the hollow in her neck. She groaned as his tongue traveled to her ear, then back to her neck, and then to her mouth again. She wanted him, and she was no longer afraid of letting go. She pressed him back, allowing him to fall on the bed, and as he lay there, beckoning to her, she responded, and showered him with kisses. He looked surprised as he watched her move over him like a snake. Her body seemed to dance, and he reached out and cupped her breasts as they seemed to reach for his chest.

Cynthia was in her element, and she closed her eyes as she drank him in, only now realizing he had a pungent smell that had captivated her senses and caused her to feel enamored. He writhed when her tongue found his side, and followed all the way to his inner thigh. His skin was smooth, almost like marble, and she reveled in his taste and feel. Then her head dipped, and Darius almost knocked her off the bed when his erection disappeared, inch by inch inside her mouth. She held him back, pressing him back down on the bed, and he shivered, spilling almost instantly when her tongue flicked over his peak.

The agony was grew unbearable for him, and he grew impatient with her torture. He held her thigh, and she appeared as light as a fairy when he lifted her and planted her onto him. He slowly brought her down, and when her hands flattened against his bulging chest, he pumped hard and fast inside her. She screamed as he filled her, his movement seeming to go on forever. Sweat beads rained down on him, mingling with that which he was producing. Each stroke he made brought them even closer in ways they had never expected.

Soon, her cries drowned in his ever increasing moans, until he bolted upright, caught her around the middle, sank deep inside her, and climaxed. Her legs shook as evidence of the same in her trickled down over him.

He looked into her eyes, brushed her hair back, gave her one last kiss, and fell back onto the bed with her in his arms. He spent the rest of the afternoon in the same manner, and for the first time in a month, they slept in the same bed.

CHAPTER 9

Cynthia could not believe the euphoria she had felt  ever since Darius had found out about the baby. He was no longer the cold and domineering man of  before, but was, instead, sweet and sensitive.

“I don’t get it,” she said to him one morning at breakfast. He had a habit of leaving early in the day in order  to see to the proper running of Argon,  and she'd started rising early with him.

“Get what?” he asked, and spooned a mouthful of wild bird’s egg into his mouth.

“It’s like you're a different man,” she told him. She bit into a fruit that resembled an avocado, but tasted more like apple. She could barely stomach much of anything else anymore, so she avoided the venison. And the eggs. “Did the baby do this to you?”

“Darling, I don’t even recognize the man of which you speak,” he said, and smiled. He wiped his hands with a piece of napkin and leaned back in the chair.

Someone burst into the room, excused himself, and passed  a device to Darius which he quickly scanned, and handed back to the man.

“Pressing matters?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so,” he told her. “It seems there has been a disturbance among some of the members of the council who are trying to ratify an amendment.” He wiped his lips and got up. He went over to her and kissed her briefly on the lips. “See you later?”

“Where else would I be after spending another long, boring day counting hovercrafts from the terrace?” she asked sarcastically.

Darius chuckled and slipped into his coat. “You can always go out,” he told her.

“Yeah, but where?” she asked his slowly disappearing back. She looked down at her stomach, which hadn't yet begun to show, and decided that she'd indeed venture into the city, for the first time since she'd left it in chains.

She went to the bedroom and put on an animal skin coat Darius had given her. When she pressed the buttons to open the door and it slid apart, she stepped out onto a marble walkway. She received a few nods from the guards, and she wrapped her coat tighter around her and went down the steps. The air was crisp and clean, and life on the streets had already begun for the day. She didn’t plan on going far, maybe only around the block and back; the architectural setting made it easy for one to get lost.

She walked farther than she thought she would,  drawing the attention of several other men from the planet, and some humans, too. She passed one woman, who had red eyes and bruises on her face, and she shivered as she thought of the life she must have lived so far. She kept her head low and walked quickly onwards, but  she couldn’t help noticing, after some time, the looks she was getting from some of the women. It wasn’t hard to see that all the women were human, and obviously from Earth. The thought occurred to her that she should probably return to the safety of the house, as she was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

She had barely taken  a few steps in the direction from which she had come, when she noticed a familiar face, only  this time, it didn’t seem as bland as it had been  back at the compound.

“I thought they might like that pretty face with the blue eyes, I just didn’t think it would be Lord Darius,” she said, placing great emphasis on her owner’s name.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Cynthia said. She took a few steps back.

“I guess now you think you're better than the rest of us, huh?” the woman said. She took a step or two  closer to Cynthia.

“What? This is crazy,” she said. She turned to walk away, her heart fluttering so hard in her chest she was sure she was about to have  a heart attack.

“I was talking to you,” the woman pressed, shoving Cynthia in the process.

Cynthia stumbled and fell, landing hard, on her side, and she  screamed out in pain. Before  she was able to stand, the woman was standing over her,  eyes flaming red. Cynthia pushed against her and twisted her body, causing the woman to topple over sideways. Cynthia got onto her knees in a bid to stand, but before her hands had left the ground, she felt searing pain in the back of her neck.

Her hands found the spot, as her eyes tried to focus. Everything seemed in a daze. Tears stung her eyes, and she  fell to the ground. Through the mist of her tears she saw one of the guards from the house as he apprehended the woman, still flailing and kicking in his grasp. The others who had  gathered close quickly dispersed, and the woman was carted off.

Cynthia's head grew heavy, she fell back, and everything grew still.

CHAPTER 10

When Cynthia opened her eyes again, it felt as if her head was bobbing in water. She saw the sky moving and felt her body rocking before she realized she was being carried. Her head pounded, and she made no attempt to move. She looked upwards to see the face of the guard she'd seen earlier, when she'd left the house.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, without looking down. “You'll be home soon.”

Her head dipped back, and her eyes closed as the door to the house opened. The guard placed her on a futon-like resting pad, as he and the other guards busied themselves deciding whether to get Lord Darius, or to wait until he came from the meeting. They decided on the latter, and Cynthia spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon nursing a head injury and a nagging pain in her neck.

She was rubbing the bruised spot and walking into the bedroom when Darius charged through the door. “Why didn’t someone come to get me?” he barked.

“Sir, we didn’t want to disturb you, and--”

“Nonsense!” he shouted, and he rushed to her side. “There is nothing more important to me now than her,” he said as he sat down beside her and took her hand, “and this child.”

“It really was nothing,” Cynthia told him, but he would hear none of it.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for a woman I wanted to be with? I got lucky when I met you,” he told her.

“They got her,” she tried to tell him.

“Where is the woman?” Darius shouted at the guard.

“In custody,” the man replied, respectfully.

“I will see to it that she is shown the full measure--”

“Darling,” Cynthia said, stopping him. “Don’t be so hasty to make judgement. She was just…jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?” He didn’t seem to realize his own station and status, and how the other humans would perceive someone chosen by him.

“Not all of the women who were taken here are treated well. I saw one with a bruised cheek and red eyes. The woman who hit me seemed like she'd seen better days, as well.’

He seemed to register what she was saying, and his features softened. His eyes sloped downwards, and his hand reached out and touched her stomach. “Is he all right?” he asked tenderly.

“I think so,” she told him, smoothing the hair that had been  hiding half of his face like a drawn curtain. She could hardly believe he had become everything she had ever wanted, and had given her even more, this man from another planet. With each passing day, the memory of her hurt sank further into the abyss, and she embraced Darius.

“He'd better be,” he whispered, and even while his guests looked on, he lowered his head and kissed her slowly and deliberately. She curled her hand around his neck, allowing the emotions within to overcome her. “How about we go and do something else?” he asked her, a grin spreading from ear to ear.

“I can barely move,” she replied, though her body had already begun to react to his words.

“That’s all right--you won’t have to do a thing,” he said, and whisked her off to the bedroom. By this time, the help had all but disappeared, leaving the two alone, and as the evening sun grew orange in the background, they made love, not as master and servant, but as lovers.

************

His little face looked up at them, his bright, blue eyes melting their hearts. He reached tiny pale fingers upwards, his face displaying features that resembled his father, and cooed.

“Are you ready?” Darius asked as he bent to pick up the infant. Baby Dane was just two weeks old, and already the spitting image of his father.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Cynthia replied. She stood and took her place next to him. There was to be a showing in the large council room where Dane would be presented to the people in a welcoming ceremony. It was a big deal, considering his status on Argon, though there were smaller ceremonies for the other babies when they  were born.

“So, do you still want to go back to Earth?” he whispered into her ear as she walked next to him.

She was clad in an elegant, silver gown that fell to her ankles, and adorned with diamond accessories. “I wouldn’t dream of it now.” She turned to him and smiled, remembering the conversation they'd had a few months ago, when she had told  him of her desire to return home. “You’re not as bad as when I first met you.”

“Not as bad, huh?” he asked.

“Nope. He is adorable, isn’t he?” she asked. She reached over and touched her son’s chin. He gripped her finger, smiled, and her world seemed to shake.

“He absolutely is,” Darius replied. Cynthia looked up at his face, her heart warming when she saw nothing but love there.

When they got to the room, she sucked in her breath. She hadn’t made a public appearance of this magnitude since Darius had taken her. She witnessed the smiles and nods she received as they made their way to the entrance hall.

“Welcome, Lord Darius,” the guard said. He pressed the button and the door slid back.

“Thank you,” he replied, much to the guard’s surprise, who smiled in turn, and then faced forward, once more.

The members of the room stood as soon as they appeared, and Cynthia got a feel of what royalty was really like. The elder councilman held his hand out to Darius for the baby. Darius placed him in the councilman's outstretched arms. The two of them stood there solemnly, as the man pressed his thumb to the babe’s forehead and chanted words in a tongue unfamiliar to Cynthia's ear.

When it was all over, they retired to the dining hall for the festivities. They received congratulatory remarks from several of the guests, who were largely Argonites, with a few of their human mates scattered throughout.

“Come on,” Darius said. He took her hand and led her to a now familiar room on the other side of the building. Dane was resting nearby in a cot, being watched by Annette, who  had taken to the child, and was less fearful of her Lord than she had been in the past.

“What are we doing?” Cynthia asked as Darius led her away.

“Overseeing the next selection process,” he told her, eying her suspiciously. Images of when she had first arrived rushed through her mind, and she gripped her chest as anxiety beset her. “Don’t worry,” he told her. He rubbed the back of her hand. “It won’t be like it was then.”

And he was right. This time, the women were brought in, and they got to choose. Cynthia smiled as she sat there, not approving of the fact that humans were still being abducted, but that they would have a chance at a better life. And the men didn’t seem to mind either.

“What did I tell you?” he asked at the end of it. “It’s a part of the new amendment.”

“I approve.” She smiled.  “The women will appreciate it more, too. But tell me something: does that mean that I am your master now?”

“Anything you wish,” he told her. He kissed her temple, slipped his hand around her waist, and they all went home.

THE END

 

Aurora Palmer pulled the throttle back and hurled forward into the black abyss polka dotted by meteor rocks that whizzed by her ship. Her eyes focused on the monitor for any signs of the Thraxians, but all that showed was the red line going back and forth on the screen and detecting nothing.

“When I get my hands on these sons of…”

“Not on my ship Nora,” Aurora warned.

“Why do you have compassion for these things? The Thraxians have been terrorizing our planet for years. This last attack claimed the lives of many, and we can’t seem to get the better of them. I don’t get why you would even want to sympathize with them.” Nora slammed her fist on the panel and got up.

“You think I sympathize because I don’t want you to call them names on my ship? Nora, my brother is dead because of those things. Why would I sympathize?”

“Look, I’m tired and frustrated and I just want this thing to be over,” Nora replied and paced the floor.

“Then let’s just find them so we can go home,” Aurora suggested, and nodded at the seat across from her. “Nora you know I can’t do this without you. You have been my wingman for…I don’t even remember how long.”

“Eight years,” Nora said and smiled. Then she walked back to her seat and took her place as second in command on the starship Aurora piloted. There was silence for a while as the two checked the blackness for a motion or heat signal, but there was nothing. “Do you think they are even out here?”

Aurora took up her communicator and pressed the button on the side. “Come in base, this is starship one.”

“Go ahead starship one,” the muffled voice said over the speaker.

“We have been circling for over an hour. There is zero activity here. What should we do?” she asked and waited for instructions from the command center.

“Hold on a second starship one,” the voice said.

Aurora kept her hands on the device and rested her head against the padded headrest on her seat. She was tired, and she just wanted to go home. It had been a long month, and she was sick of chasing the Thraxians over the galaxy. She had grown up to stories of the animals they were; they would find neighboring planets and pillage and plunder them, taking whatever spoils they could return to their home planet. Their stories were told over bonfires and for bedtime stories to the children of Earth for centuries. Of late, the stories had all come to life after repeated invasions on other planets nearby. The Galaxy Peace Corp had called for assistance from the other planets since Planet Nirvana, the latest planet to come under attack, was unable to defend itself.

“Starship one, there is activity about thirty-five miles east of your location. Do you copy?” the voice from the speaker asked.

“Copy base,” Aurora said and clicked off. She replaced the communicator and programmed the location into the monitor. The space ship dipped right and sped off in the direction. Five minutes later and Aurora heard the monitor beeping and the red lights that were flashing before suddenly turned to green. But the size of the vessel they saw was nothing compared to their own, and she looked across at Nora as she gazed at it in shock.

“Do you think we need help?” Nora asked, her eyes still wide with astonishment.

“No, I got this,” Aurora said as she opened a compartment below the monitor and flicked two switches that armed the space craft.

“What’s going on?” someone asked from the back.

“The Thraxians are in sight,” Aurora responded. “We are going in.”

“Alright,” the man hooted enthusiastically.

“Can’t say I blame them,” Nora said and smiled. “We are all itching to snag some Thrax.”

“Let’s go do just that,” Nora said as she pressed another button and the guns crept forward and set poised for battle.

The space craft Aurora piloted was about a third of that of the Thrax, but she was accustomed to battle and knew enough to be confident that size was not always an advantage. Those big vessels usually have engines underneath them, and she guided her ship exactly there.  She was only a few hundred feet off when the vessel started turning, and before she had even begun to engage, she felt her ship rock as they discharged their weapon.

“Hold on,” Aurora said as she swerved and flew to the other side of the ship. She targeted a spot on the underside of the vessel and pressed the button. A torpedo flew out and there was a big ball of fire as the vessel was hit. She dipped low to avoid shrapnel backfiring and damaging her ship, and then let fly another. Before it made contact Aurora’s ship jerked and catapulted a few yards away from the Thraxian vessel. She hung from her chair after the ship did, and by the time she realized, she saw smoke coming from the bottom of her ship.

She looked across and saw blood coming from Nora’s nose, and her body slumped over the seat. She reached for her communicator and pressed the button, but all she heard was a crackling sound. “Mayday! Mayday!” she said with a cracked voice that only came out as a hoarse whisper.

She tried to sit straight and level the space craft, but when she looked out, she saw the Thraxian vessel directly before her, with the guns aimed directly at her. “Not today,” Aurora said and gritted her teeth. She grabbed the throttle and pulled it back. She hit the seat hard when the space craft suddenly shot into the air, and when she was on top of the vessel she levelled it off. She checked and saw that the Thraxian vessel was too big to turn as quickly, and when it did, she was already too far off.

She programmed the coordinates for Earth into the monitor, and hoped she could make it home before they caught up with her. She was beginning to get hopeful when she heard a loud beeping sound. She had damaged two of the air ducts, and she felt the panic rising in her as she mentally calculated how long her oxygen would last. The space craft was moving too fast, burning oxygen she needed. Aurora started gasping for air before she decided to set the control to auto pilot.

Aurora staggered to the back of the ship and strapped the oxygen tank onto her. Then, unsteadily, she tugged the mask over her head and worked her way back to the seat. The beeping was growing louder, and she decided to risk going faster, but one quick glance at the time signal told her she wouldn’t make it to Earth. She scanned the perimeter for the closest friendly planet, but there was none; there was only Thrax. She was left with the decision to die or to try to make it to the enemy planet she was at war with.

The decision was taken from her when there was a loud explosion and the ship shot forward. One of the engines gave out, and Aurora’s heart rate increased dramatically as her vessel hurtled across the black void and into Thraxian territory.

CHAPTER 2

Aurora’s eyes fluttered open and she gazed around her, trying to make sense of the hanging wires and contraptions dangling before her. She grabbed her head when it started to pound, and then she tried to move. It was only then that she realized she couldn’t when she felt the searing pain shooting up her leg. She cried out in pain and slammed her fist into the only solid sheet she could find: the small space on the floor next to her head. There was fire gashing from the electrical wires a few feet away, and her conscious mind did not register the crash until she saw her crew. Her head snapped upwards as she remembered Nora, and when she looked over to the co-pilot’s seat. Nora’s body was slumped over the seat still, and her hands hung limp.

“Nora!” Aurora croaked. Then she held her throat which suddenly started to burn. She looked around, but there was no other movement. “Is anyone awake?” she called. She waited, but all she heard was the increasing crackling of the wires as they dangled.

She tried to move again, and it was then that she saw the blood on her thigh. She moved the torn cloth away and saw a gash just above her knee. She winced and closed her eyes as she used her hands to pry the beam from her. Then she hauled herself along the floor until she was free of the debris that had trapped her. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and it was only then that she realized she wasn’t using her oxygen tank.

Aurora tried to stand, but the pain was too much. With tears filling her eyes, she yanked off the bloody shirt she still wore and wrapped her busted leg with it. She screamed in pain as she did, and she slid to the floor again when she was done, pain overtaking her conscious mind and threatening a blackout. She sat there for a while as she tried to regain some semblance of time or space, when it dawned on her that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. The last thing she remembered was that she was hurtling towards Thrax. Was she now on Thrax?

“No, no, no,” Aurora said and pulled herself up again. She looked out the windscreen and saw a large deserted wasteland. “Where the hell am I?” She limped back to the dashboard and retrieved the communicator. “Command center, this is starship one,” she said and then waited for a response. There was none. “Come in command. My ship has been downed in enemy territory: come in,” she repeated, but not even the crackling sound was heard that time. “Dammit,” she said and dropped the device.

She was limping back through the debris, when something glistened in the distance. She shielded her eyes and tried to see what was coming, but the dust and the glare made it difficult. But one thing was for sure; who or whatever was approaching was not friendly. She hastily searched the cabins and the compartments for dischargeable weapons, and by the time she did find one, the rumbling outside had surrounded the ship.

Aurora pointed the gun forward and walked slowly to the broken door. She stood there, watching and waiting, fright paralyzing her movement. It wasn’t long before she saw the making of what appeared human prying its way into the ship.

“Stop right there, or I’ll shoot,” Aurora said nervously and backed up further into the wires and metals at her rear.

“Someone is in here,” the man shouted to someone outside, not daunted in any way by the weapon she wielded.

“I mean it,” she said and trembled. Aurora knew she was no match for them, not while she was on their planet, but she would die defending herself.

“No you won’t,” he told her and came closer. “If you kill me, then you will be stuck here,” he told her. He got to her and pushed the weapon down. “Now you have to come with me,” he said and looked around the ship. “Is anyone else here alive?”

Aurora shuddered as she looked at the man; he had strange carvings on his skin, and his head was shaved clean. He had a dark complexion, similar to that of the native Americans, and he was tall. Outside of the carvings, and their gait, he looked like a regular man, and nothing like the animal she had thought they would be. They were often given the appearance of hyenas, or something from Riddick.

“I’m not going with you,” she told him.

“Fine,” he said and flashed even teeth at her. “Stay here and die; one less enemy to deal with,” he told her and walked out again.

Aurora stood there after he had stepped out and contemplated her next move; she really had no other alternative than the one he had given to her. When she decided to accept his ‘offer’ she was shocked to see another three of them standing there, and seemingly waiting for her, when she finally disembarked the damaged ship.

CHAPTER 3

Aurora tried to climb aboard the strange contraption they rode, but she was prevented from doing so; the wound was throbbing and she felt faintish. The thing walked around to her back and heaved her up and into the seat, and she adjusted her leg for greater comfort. He climbed up after her and sat down. She expected at any minute for them to snag her and torture her, but instead he handed her a pair of face goggles.

“You need to wear these,” he said gruffly and handed her the device.

She took it from him, and observed how they wore them, and then decided she wouldn’t be a willing prisoner. “I don’t want them,” she said and rested them next to her. She flashed her head and smoothed her hair behind her ears. She jumped when she heard the loud laughter from the other three men.

“She will learn,” one of them said and slid inside his.

“For all intents and purposes you might be trying to poison my mind,” she retorted and folded her arms across her chest.

“You have it all wrong stranger from another planet,” the one next to her said. “Not wearing it is what will poison you.”

Then he pressed down on a lever and the contraption skidded into gear, raking red dust all around her. They hadn’t gone ten yards when she discovered the necessity of the head gear and quickly pulled it over her head. Before long her entire clothing looked no different than the wasteland, and she looked over embarrassingly at the things that were now laughing at her.

She ignored them and stared straight ahead, capturing almost nothing as the endless dirt swirled around them. They hooted and behaved boisterously as they drove, and she was reminded of her senior year in high school when the boys drove around in drop top vehicles on their way from unauthorized gatherings. It wasn’t until about three miles of riding that they finally left the wasteland and traverse across an open plane. Aurora couldn’t help wondering why she had crashed in the worst place possible.

“We will be there soon,” the thing said when it removed the headgear.

She did the same and flashed her hair free. “Where are you taking me?” she asked. “I need to get back home. I need to call someone and have them…”

“You won’t be calling anyone, and even if you did, I’m sure they wouldn’t come. They don’t come unless they fight,” he responded, his eyes still fixed dead ahead.

“So what then? What are you going to do with me?” she asked nervously. She could hardly imagine the horrors he had in mind for her, and if not him, then surely someone else would be glad to make game of her.

“We will just keep you here,” he replied. “Now, no more talking.”

“What do you mean keep me here? I don’t belong here. I have a home and a life to get back to,” she pleaded. “If you let me go, I can tell everyone how gracious you have been and they won’t attack.”

He looked over at her, disbelief written all over his features and looked ahead again without saying a word. Aurora tried to convince him further, but everything else hit deaf ears; he made no efforts at communicating until they neared a great wall. It resembled something one would imagine in the days of old when castles and drawbridges existed; and she was surprised to see one of the same lowered as they neared.

As soon as the mobile contraptions were through the gate, a throng of more like him surrounded her and they poked and prodded, and some even spat at her. Aurora looked at their angry faces, covered with red and black markings, and cowered as she envisioned them ripping her apart.

“Stand back,” the man she rode with said to them.

“What is the meaning of this?” a voice boomed above the din created by the spectators.  “Nevaeh, I thought I told you to dispose of the refuse. Why have you returned with it?” He glared at Aurora, and as the insult stung her, her face contorted with rage too.

“This one was alive, and it didn’t make sense leaving it there,” the man called Nevaeh replied.

“And what do you suppose you will do with it here? It looks weak and frail,” the man said loudly still. Then he walked over and gripped her forearm and squeezed it. “Not even good for meat,” he cried, and the spectators laughed at their words. “And what is that?” he asked as he noticed the bandage on her leg.

“She was wounded when the ship crashed,” Nevaeh told the man.

“And you want to use our resources to care for it? Do you hope to bed it too?” the man asked.

“I couldn’t leave her there,” Nevaeh told the man.

He looked over at Aurora again, who by this time was seething with rage but didn’t think it wise to retort, and then spat on the ground. “I hold you responsible for this monster,” he said and walked away.

His words registered in Aurora’s head, but nothing made sense. She was classed as ‘it’, in the same way she had always referred to them. And now this man thought she was the monster. They were the monsters! Not her! She stood next to Nevaeh as the crowd thinned and she was left alone with him standing at the drawbridge, and for the first time since she was a little girl, her entire perception of their world was altered.

She looked up at him, and saw him clenching his jaw, and then he hoisted her over his shoulder and whisked her away east of the gate, and to the building he called home.

CHAPTER 4

Aurora didn’t quite understand what it meant to be a scarf until she was draped around Nevaeh’s neck. He held her like she weighed a pound, and it didn’t even make sense fighting; she could feel the pain ripping through her leg so she did her best to remain still and hope it would grow numb. It didn’t. By the time Nevaeh pushed the wooden gate aside, her eyes were barely open-her mind shutting down as it tried to cope with the pain.

She was barely aware of him setting her down on a chair in the corner, and him shuffling around the space, making a suitable prison for her. If she had seen, then she would have protested, but she was in no position to be feisty and defiant. She fell into a deep sleep, one where her pain was nonexistent, and she was back home and relaxing on her porch. When she awoke a couple hours later, it was dark, and the air was dank. She coughed and sputtered on what appeared to be the void enveloping the space. She looked around, but she couldn’t make anything out, so she got up and tried to feel her way around.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said from the void.

“Who’s there?” she asked. She had forgotten about her feet, and as she made a step she went crashing on the floor as the pain reminded her of its existence.

He rushed over and lifted her from the floor. “Are all women from earth stubborn? You are quite a pain,” he told her. “You never do as you are told, even though it often results in your demise. Thraxian women are more submissive.”

“Well I’m not a Thraxian woman, nor will I ever be,” she spat and shrugged him off.  Her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting and she was able to scope her surroundings better, and from what she could see, she was in some sort of cave or dungeon. “What is this place?”

“It’s where you stay for now until we are sure you won’t attack any of us,” he told her. Then he got up and returned to her with a bowl of broth. “Now, you need to eat to keep up your strength,” he told her. He was handing her the bowl and then he pulled his hand back. “And before you even think about it, this is the only food you get until another couple of hours, so be careful you don’t make it spill.”

Aurora glanced up at him, and then thought better of it, and took the bowl from him. She gave him a half smile and then stuck the bowl under her nose. She cringed and pulled her head back.  “What is this?”

“It may not be the most palatable meal we have, but it has in more medicine than morsel,” he told her. “I thought you needed a little help with that leg right there. So drink up,” he said and then turned to leave.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave me here,” she said, a frantic look in her eyes as she looked around the dark space.

“Don’t worry. I will be upstairs, and I need to go to work in the morning, so I need to get some sleep,” he replied.

“So, why can’t I come up there with you?” she asked.

“Is that a trick question? I only just found you a few hours ago, and you were in full pursuit I’m sure, of attacking my people when you crashed. Stop me when I am wrong,” he said and folded his arms, and his features took on a darker expression.

“Am I supposed to feel guilty of that? You attack all the other planets and destroy and pillage as much as you can. I lost my brother in one of the attacks led by the Thrax, and you expect me to feel sorry?”

“I am sorry about your brother, but my own father was taken from me in the same way-in battle. It still doesn’t change that I am doing what is right, by helping you to heal, but make no mistake-we aren’t friends.”

“And what happens after I heal? You still gonna keep me here?” she asked.

“I don’t know what I am going to do,” he told her. “But I am sure you are never leaving this planet.” Then he walked out and stomped up what sounded to Aurora like wooden stairs.

She sat there in the dim lighting, staring at the bowl. Just then her stomach started rumbling, and she struggled to remember the last time she had eaten. Despite all her mental defiance, her body was canvassing for something more basic; she needed to eat and she needed to heal. She needed a plan, but first she had to get better; perhaps win him over, and then make her move.

She put the bowl to her head when she didn’t see any accompanying utensils, and was surprised to see that it tasted a lot better than it smelled. Then she replaced it on the wooden table next to the makeshift bed on which she sat. then her mind wandered onto the last moments she spent with her crew on the starship one. She relaxed onto the bed and let its strange warmth comfort the hurt she felt when she remembered Nora. A single tear started running down her cheek, and by the time it sped past her lips, it had beckoned a thousand more. She started sobbing, and then her head began throbbing as well and she covered her ears to drown the pounding and the incessant noise slowly getting louder in her mind.

The last thing she remembered, as she drifted off into sleep once more, was how alone she felt, and lost on a planet she couldn’t dare call home.

CHAPTER 5

“Nevaeh, what were you thinking taking her here?” his friend asked him as he burst through the door.

“Good Morning to you too Bjorn,” Nevaeh said and closed the door shut.

“So?” he asked when Nevaeh didn’t furnish him with a response.

“So, what?” Nevaeh asked, already getting annoyed with his friend. “Where would you suggest I keep her if not here? The commander already made it clear he didn’t want her using national properties.”

“But that didn’t mean keep her here,” Bjorn growled.  “Her kind has been nothing but a thorn in our sides, and they are weak and frail, without much intelligence or skill in battle. She will do you no good Nevaeh. I think you should just take her back to the wasteland and let her fend for herself, if the Gregor don’t get her first.”

“You expect me to take her out there to be eaten by wild animals? What kind of Thraxian are you?”

“The kind who doesn’t sympathize with the enemy,” the man blared.

“Keep your voice down,” Nevaeh said and looked towards the stairs that led to Aurora’s keep.

“What, so now you are concerned about her sensitivity?” Bjorn asked. “She shouldn’t be here,” he deliberately said and shouted down the hole.

“Hello?’ Aurora called.

Bjorn pushed Nevaeh aside and stormed down the steps. “Bjorn, stop!” He shouted after his friend, but it was useless; he was next to Aurora in seconds.

Bjorn stood there looking at her, the dark cloud on his face transforming to a thunderstorm by the time Nevaeh stepped before him and shoved him aside.

“What are you doing here?” Bjorn asked Aurora.

“Wait, you think I want to be here with you?” she asked him angrily. “I want to go home, but he doesn’t want me to,” she told Bjorn and they both looked at Nevaeh.

“You agree with that?” he asked Bjorn. “What do you think will happen if she goes back home? She tells them what she saw here, our strengths and our weaknesses, and then they use it against us when they attack next.”

“Excuse me, but how exactly would I see that from a hole in the ground?” she barked. “All I want to do is go home, but he won’t let me.”

“Yeah Nevaeh. Why don’t you let her go home?” Bjorn asked.  “I get sick of just the sight of it,” he spat and scowled at Aurora.

She looked at him and all that had been reserved in her spilled out in an onslaught of words as her anger grew by leaps and bounds. “Why does it sound like you think my kind is the enemy? The Thrax have terrorized the galaxy for decades, and we are just united in our front against you. You are the monsters!” Her rage was all consuming, and when she had spewed her venom onto unsuspecting victims, her chest heaved as she tried to regain control of her emotions. But she realized they were looking at her like she was crazy.  “What?”

“We are the monsters?” Nevaeh asked, and then he looked from her to Bjorn. “We are the ones who have been constantly attacked, or did the Inter-galaxy police forget to mention that part?”

“No, that’s not true,” Aurora said as she tried to make sense of the truth that had become a part of her; the truth that had been instilled in her ever since she was a child.

“See, there is a difference between the truth and what you were told, and it is no different than the stories that have been spread across the galaxies,” Nevaeh told her.

“Yeah, you got it twister woman from earth,” Bjorn chimed in. “You listen to half-truths and go around the galaxy defending what you think is true. We only defend against those who persecute us, and that has resulted in our attacking planets such as yours. Planet Nirvana was the latest, because they got entangled in an invasion they couldn’t see their way out of.  They, much like the people of earth, are weak. They didn’t stand a chance against us.”

“I don’t understand,” Aurora said. “I was there during the repeated invasions. I know nothing of our people first attacking. I lost my brother during the battle three years ago. Are you telling me he died defending a dream? That he died for nothing.”

“He may not have died for nothing; he believed in what he died for, which was not true, which does not…”

“Okay, man you don’t need to justify anything to her,” Bjorn interrupted. “Whatever happened was their fault anyway. Just get her out of here.” Bjorn waved her off and went back upstairs, and she could tell he had left by the slamming of the door.

Nevaeh was just following in his wake when Aurora stopped him. “Is any of that true?” she asked him quietly.

He sighed and kept his back turned to her. “Yes,” he answered. “We are not the people you make us out to be. You have been misled.”

Aurora’s head begun to spin as the world she had known capsized and she was left stranded with another reality she was unable to appreciate. When she became quiet, Nevaeh turned to her, and the sight of her with her leg bandaged, her hair unkempt and her head held down moved something within him, and despite what she was, he could not leave her to rot in a hole.

“You can stay up top if you like,” he told her and then moved off.

“Could you help me up?” she asked. “I think the wound is festering,” she said and grimaced.

Nevaeh walked back to the strange creature from another planet: the woman with the long red hair and green eyes, and skin without markings. She was different from the women he knew, in more ways than one, and she intrigued him. That was his sole reason for taking her home-to study her and perhaps find secrets about the enemy that kept attacking his people. But he learned quickly that she was as much a victim as he was, and that they were not so different after all.

CHAPTER 6

“Ouch!” Aurora cried out as Nevaeh applied an ointment to her wound.

“You have to keep still,” he told her. “Thraxian women are better at dealing with pain.”

“Why do you always compare me with your people? I am not one of you, and obviously would behave diff…ouch!” she cried again.

“Sorry,” he told her and then covered the bottle. “All done,” he told her. “You won’t need this much longer; your wound is healing nicely.”

“I have to admit it actually works,” she said as she flexed her leg. A week ago she was unable to walk without support, and as she stood she barely felt the pinch as her tissue molded back into place. She walked around the space she had grown familiar with over the last week that she had been invited to share with him.

“I need to go out,” he told her and wiped his hand in a rag when he got up. “Don’t let anyone in, and don’t go out either. You may think I’m keeping you here as my prisoner, but there are others who would kill you in a heartbeat, so I’m really doing you a favor.”

“Why?” Aurora asked, and waited expectantly for his answer.

Nevaeh heaved an exasperated sigh and looked directly at her. “Because I don’t believe in killing someone in cold blood, or leaving them to die either. Just don’t thank me yet; I still don’t know what to do with you.”

“I have an idea,” she smiled. She had grown unreasonably and unexplainably comfortable around Nevaeh over the time she had been in his home.

“Don’t even think about it,” he told her. “I’m not sure what to do with you, but I have no way to get you back home either.”

Aurora sighed as he went through the door, and then she went to the window to watch him leave. The streets were made of what appeared to be cobble stones for the most part, with single lane tracks that were used for the mobile vehicles they used. It seemed the people from Thrax were simple when it had to do with their lifestyles, but they were educationally and technologically more advanced than her own people. Thus, Aurora couldn’t understand their simple lifestyle; surely they could afford to make flashy cars and jets, yachts and hovercrafts. Instead, they seemed to do a lot of walking.

She stood there at the window just then, watching a woman holding a little girl’s hand as they walked past the house. The little girl already had markings, and as the woman walked, she waved and smiled to other passersby. When she glanced over and saw Aurora standing at the window, a frown took its place and she scurried her daughter along, as if only her stare could infect the child. They didn’t seem like terrorists, but ordinary people.

And as for Nevaeh, he lived a very mundane and routine life of waking, exercising, gong to work and walking home. He performed the same routine every day, with the exception being a rescue operative whenever their planet came under fire.

Aurora stood there, calculating and processing everything when he pushed the door open. “I’m surprised you didn’t run,” he told her when he noticed he staring out the window.

“Like you said, where would I go?” she asked without looking at him.

He kicked the door shut and placed some groceries on the counter, before he produced a pan and placed it on the stove. Aurora only called it that because he used it to cook, but there was nothing much, apart from the level surface, that resembled anything she had back home. It was huge and had buttons and commands over a screen that looked like the one on a microwave panel, so all Nevaeh had to do was marinate what he wanted and enter the command into the device. She stood watching him, and was awed, and when he turned he caught her staring.

“It really isn’t that interesting,” he said and laughed. And that was perhaps the first time she really did. It was like a slight chuckle, only it resonated in the room, and seemed to make the air come alive with its melody that she couldn’t help but smile when he did.

“To me it is,” she said when she moved closer to touch it, like it hadn’t always been there. She leaned over to stare at the panels and grooves long the sides, and slid out the drawer where he would place the unprepared meal. “I would have loved this at home,” she said. “My own personal chef.”

“Well, I still have to do this part,” he said, indicating the raw meat still lying on the counter.

“True,” she said and straightened herself. Then she walked over and touched the meat. “What is it?”

“Kushnai,” he replied. “A rare delicacy here,” he said when he saw the confusion on her face. “I think it’s what your people know as steak.”

“Oh,” Aurora replied. “You know about my people?” she asked.

“Of course I do,” he replied. “We know about every nation in this galaxy; it is a school requirement.”

“Then I believe I am at a disadvantage,” she said as she moved closer to him and touched him on the hand. “If it is alright with you, I’d love to know more about your people.”

Nevaeh looked at her hand on his, and then deep into her green eyes. A twinkle emerged there that warmed her on the inside and he covered her hand with his other. “It would be my pleasure to,” he replied. “But I must apologize for my rudeness. All the while you have been here I didn’t take the time to know much about you. I thought you…well, I don’t know what I was thinking. But I do believe I would love the honor of knowing your name.”

Aurora smiled when he spoke, witnessing a gentler, nobler side than the rugged painted man she had seen on her first day on Thrax, and in that moment she was glad it was he who had found her. “It’s Aurora,” she told him, and she removed her hand form under his to formally meet the strange man who was slowly winning her over.

CHAPTER 7

Over the next few days Nevaeh took Aurora out every time he wasn’t busy with work. It was no easy feat for Aurora, to be out in public with him, for she received threats, deadly stares and foul words she could not even comprehend. Nevaeh shielded her as much as he could, but she was determined not to let their anger sully the impression she had of them that was already changing. She didn’t take it personally anymore, especially considering the new knowledge that she had found, that it was her and her people who had done them more wrong than had been meted out to her kind. Oftentimes she imagined herself ambling along the walk of shame, receiving blows from rotting foods and vegetables tossed at her, and feeling deserving of each.

This particular day, Nevaeh thought it would be better if they spent the day away from prying eyes and evil minds. He took her to a recreational facility which housed a gym, a lounge area, a pool, various tracks and entertainment for children. Aurora was awed by the artwork displayed in the architecture of the building, and she made full three hundred and sixty turns in each area they passed through.

“Why isn’t anyone here?” she asked when they got to the pool.

“It is my day off, and the children are in school, so there isn’t usually anyone here at this time of the day,” he replied.

“Is that why you brought me here?” she asked.

He rolled the leg of his pants up, sat at the edge of the pool and dangled his legs in the water. Aurora stood there watching him and then she joined him. She wrapped the skirt between her legs, part of the pieces he had gotten for her in lieu of the fact that she had nothing other than the torn gear he had found her in.

“You didn’t answer me,” she said when her feet played in the warm water next to his.

“Yes,” he finally said. “It won’t be easy for the people here to accept a newcomer, especially one from earth,” he sighed.

“So, why did you?” she asked. It seemed the question resided between them, and came up at some point or the other, for Aurora couldn’t wrap her mind around his strange generosity.

“Haven’t we gone through this before?” he chuckled.

“Yeah, I know what you’ve said before, but I don’t believe that the answer is still the same,” she told him. “I’ve watched you, and you have taken a battering from your people as much as I have, and still, rather than casting me out, here you are.”

“It’s the decent thing to do,” he told her.

“But that’s just it,” she retorted. “I’m not sure I would have done the same thing had you been the one to crash on my planet. I’m not sure there would be anyone who wouldn’t want to lock you into an underground lab and use you as the basis for experiments and torture for years on end,” she said and sighed. “I guess we really have a long way to go.”

“But look on the bright side,” he said and nudged her on the shoulder. “If it had been anyone else who had found you here, you would be dead.”

“Are you telling me you wield that much power over the actions of others? There were three of you there. They could have killed me anyway, or any other day on the street.”

“We have honor and respect for the wishes of others here,” he replied.

Aurora smiled and touched his hand as it rested on the hard surface that surrounded the pool. She gazed at the still, clear water that stretched out before her. It looked like every other pool she had seen since she had come to know of their existence, and if someone had kidnapped her and taken her to that world, she would not have perceived it to be anywhere but earth. Except for the extraordinary man sitting next to her.

She had been his prisoner for three weeks, and in that time her status had been elevated to roommate-as far as her terminology of it went. She looked over at him now, and he smiled at her, and his black eyes flashed, piercing her soul, and she trembled under his gaze. Her mind started wandering, and somewhere deep in the shadows of her subconscious, she started developing an attraction for the being who had saved her life.

Perhaps he saw the look in her eyes, or read her mind of the carnal thoughts that had started invading its space, but the next thing she felt was his cold hard lips on hers. She was frightened at first, and her eyes popped when her mind registered what was happening, but like caramel in the hot sun, she melted under his touch and her entire being became a sticky mess. She felt his lips transform from cold to burning hot, and soon her eyes closed as she succumbed to her need. She could feel her body floating away like a helium filled balloon, and when she felt his hand touch her side, she shivered, and he moved away.

When their eyes locked, he smiled and pulled her to him and they sat together, at the side of the pool, feeling contented, yet concerned about their future.

CHAPTER 8

It was no easy feat that Nevaeh took on when he decided he would show his affection for Aurora in public. In the same way she had been jeered before and raked over the coals, he was treated in the same manner when he decided to hold her hand as they left the pool.

“Disgusting,” an elderly woman spat as they walked by her.

“Look at the strange woman,” some kids laughed, and then proceeded to throw stones at them.

“Stop!” Nevaeh shouted, and they jumped in fright, hung their heads and dashed off in separate directions. Aurora tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t allow her to. “No,” he whispered. “They will never accept us if they think we are weak.”

“Accept us?” Aurora asked. “What exactly is there to accept?”

Nevaeh stopped walking when her words penetrated his colored face. “You are the enemy,” he said slowly, just in case she hadn’t comprehended that so far. “Not exactly the girl you take home to mama,” he said to her.

“That’s not what I meant,” she began. “I meant, are we together?”

“You had to ask? I kissed you. That should in every way confirm what I feel for you and my intentions for us.”

“From a kiss?” she asked him.

“That’s not how it works on earth?” he asked her. His expression was one of shock, and she found it noble that he would think a kiss meant more than just that; a kiss.

“No,” she told him. “A kiss usually means a guy is attracted to you, and that he is probably interested in a date. Most times it happens after the first date.” When she paused from her explanation she caught him looking at her in an odd way. “What?”

“You come from a very strange place,” he told her.

“Well, back in the day, way back in the day, men used to be chivalrous: showing up with gifts, opening doors for women, pulling back chairs and asking permission for her hand in marriage, or even for a kiss. Nowadays that has all but died, and what we have left are a bunch of ‘men’ who just want to get into a woman’s pants. If all they do is kiss, then the girl is lucky.”

“Wow,” Nevaeh said when she was through. “We are more like your men of old; times have changed and we have gotten more advanced, but some things will always be the same. I only wish I had gotten the chance to ask you out on a date. The first time we met I took you home.”

They both laughed at his words, and then she stopped walking to face him, the curious stares from his people all but forgotten. “Ask me now” she told him and looked at him from her emerald green portals.

“Okay. Aurora, will you be my date tonight?” he asked and grinned.

“Why, thank you for asking; I was not expecting it,” she told him and laughed. “I would love to go on a date with you Nevaeh, to any place we won’t possibly get stoned.”

He held her hand and let ring a loud and melodious laugh that reverberated in the streets and drew the attention of another couple that was passing them by. Maybe it was the happiness in his tone, but they smiled as they ambled along. Or perhaps, it was in their own happiness that they could easily accept the strange couple that didn’t belong.

Later that night, they snuggled up to each other in the 4-D theatre studio, with the first eight seats around them being vacant. They didn’t seem too perturbed by it, and when it was over, and Nevaeh led her through the exit, they were bombarded with insults once more.

“Get her out of here,” a man behind them barked. “We don’t need it on our planet.”

“And will you be the one to remove her?” he asked and turned to face the voice.

“You are a traitor to keep her here like this,” the man continued. “They killed your father Nevaeh.”

“It may have been her people, but it wasn’t her, and you are wrong about her,” he tried to explain.

“Wrong my ass,” the man snarled and bore down on them.

“I think we had better go,” Aurora said and held onto Nevaeh who had started assuming the color of cherries.

“I think you are right,” he told her, though standing his ground and challenging the man to make a move. He got close enough to Nevaeh, but he didn’t dare make a move. “That’s what I thought,” Nevaeh said and grabbed Aurora by the hand, and walked through the throng of people who had already gathered.

“I think it’s beautiful,” one woman said and gave Aurora a friendly pinch on the arm.

Aurora smiled at her, and was pleased to find that there was one voice in the crowd that wasn’t looking to maul her.

Nevaeh pushed the door in, angry and hurt that he wasn’t receiving the response he would have preferred. He flung himself on the bed, with his hands sprawled like he was about to make an angel from linen rather than snow.

“It’s alright,” Aurora told him. “Maybe you can just sneak me off the planet; this probably won’t work no matter how we may want it.”

“I will do no such thing, unless…” he started and then got up to look her in the eyes. “Do you want to go?”

Aurora thought about the question, and immediately she thought of how lonely her life had been on earth; ever since she lost her brother, she had found meaning only in her job. And that job had led her to Nevaeh, who was giving her every woman’s dream. “No,” she responded. “I think I like being here with you, despite everything.”

Nevaeh leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips, and then more sweetly the longer his lips played over hers. Then they locked in an embrace so strong and all consuming, that it filled Aurora’s eyes with water to imagine she had found love in a strange place.

CHAPTER 9

As the days went on, some longer than others, Nevaeh’s and Aurora’s affections for each other grew in proportion to the public’s acceptance of their once taboo relationship. They no longer received hard stares or curse words hurled at them, but smiles and nods-worst case, indifference.

“I do believe you have won them over,” he told her once when they returned home.

“I’m not so sure of that; Bjorn still looks at me like a fly stuck to a trap,” she said while referring to one of his closest friends-the only one still having a hard time with them being together.

“He will come around; he is just stubborn and foolish. Who knows? Maybe you will be the reason earth learns my people are not the enemy, and we can have some peace between us.”

“I doubt that will happen,” she said and sighed. Shortly after, a mischievous grin crossed her lips, and she walked seductively over to Nevaeh. “In other news, there is a ‘peace’ of you I would like to sign an agreement with,” she told him. She was standing directly before him now and she pulled him forcefully to her. Aurora had been tempted to be with him on many occasions, but the gentleman in him wouldn’t approach her to solicit sex, and she was all but frustrated with being that close to him and not feeling him.

“Are you sure? It is not customary…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “Enough about your people. Let me show you some customs of mine,” she grinned and slid his pants to his ankles and helped his shirt over his head. She had never seen him naked before, and she marveled at how perfectly proportioned his frame was. Her eyes roamed his firm body, and he stood there like a marble statue while she had her fill. Then he reached out and traced her fingers along the markings on her skin, and as she drew closer south, she saw his hard member perk up, and its head elevated as if to meet her touch.

She held onto it, and squeezed and stroked until he closed his eyes. She felt him quiver when she took him into her mouth and greeted him in a way she was sure he wasn’t familiar with. Nevaeh looked down at the woman who was controlling his ebb and flow, and he grabbed her red head as the unfamiliar feeling escalated into sensations strange and sweet to his consciousness. He rocked his head back as Aurora licked from base to tip, and then covered him inch by inch. The choke effect she felt which caused her to gag, threw Nevaeh over the edge, and he pulled back and looked at her, her hair tossed aside, and her green eyes wild with passion.

He pulled her to him, and buried his head in her neck as he slid the straps of the dress from her shoulders, and Aurora stepped from the thinly veiled fabric and let her arms envelop his body. Neveah’s lips moved from the cleft at her neck and down to ripe nipples already throbbing and aching for his attention. His warmth was welcomed when he ran his tongue along their circumference, and then he cupped one with his hands and suckled her. Aurora cried out and ran her hand over his bald head. She kissed the top of his head as he moved from one twin to the other.

Then, with skilled hands, he lifted her and gently rested her on the bed, and as she spread her legs wide, giving an all access granted path to heaven, he buried himself within her. He stroked hard and fast and Aurora trembled each time he pulled back and re-entered. She watched as he held his head back, his eyes closed, and penetrated her deeper. By the time she felt him increasing in speed and tremors, she knew he had all but reached his climax, and she dug into his hips with sharp nails, eliciting cries from him. Then she matched him, and in one glorious and united effort, they molded their bodies into one

When it was all over, he relaxed on the bed next to her, a broad smile on his face. She smiled too, and played with the markings on his skin that had seemingly gotten illuminated by the passion they shared.

“What do you think would be a good name for a boy?” he asked her.

“A good name? What are you talking about?” she asked him.

“For our son-the one you will soon have. We have to make preparations for his arrival, which means our nuptials, and we need to…”

“Hold it Nevaeh,” Aurora said when she realized his line of argument. “What are you talking about?”

“Darling, don’t you know?” he asked, and then placed his hand on her stomach.

“What? No!” she said. “That was our first time, and based on my cycle I wasn’t even ovulating, so there is no way I can be pregnant. And how could you know that right off the bat?”

“What does that mean ‘right off the bat’?” he asked, a confused expression possessing his features.

“We just made love, so how could you know that already?” she asked.  She was feeling a sudden and intense sense of panic rushing through her because of what he had said. She had not imagined herself a mother before that time, and the words flowed right through her like water through a cave before crashing on rocks in descent to the enormous pool at the end of the waterfall.

“You have much to learn about us,” Nevaeh told Aurora. “Why do you think we don’t take things so lightly? We only kiss when we mean it to be more, and we only make love when we are ready for a family. Just once with a man of Thrax and the woman is guaranteed conception.”

He looked down at her stomach again and smiled, and Aurora watched him, but all she heard was the blood rushing though her veins as they made the endless circular journey.

CHAPTER 10

It didn’t take long for Aurora’ body to prove Nevaeh’s words.  Within a week she was already experiencing symptoms systematic of pregnancy. She, like her kind, began developing nausea, and what she once detested in food she now had a craving for.

“My son knows good food,” was what Nevaeh would always tell her whenever he saw her rushing to the bathroom.

When Aurora returned from one such trip, she plopped down on the chair, her cheeks the color of her eyes. “I don’t get it. How does that work?  That one-time thing that makes a baby? Is it the atmosphere?”

Nevaeh laughed when she spoke. “I don’t know the biology of it; I just know that’s what happens.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Nevaeh went to answer, and his face grew cold when he saw who the caller was. “Hi Bjorn.”

“May I come in?” his friend asked.

“That depends on whether or not you will attack Aurora,” Nevaeh said and stood there blocking the entrance still.

“I won’t,” he promised, and then Nevaeh stood aside to let him pass.

“Hi,” he waved uncomfortably to Aurora. She smiled at him, and then he turned to Nevaeh, and then back at her. “Is she having a baby?” he asked with surprise.

“God, is it that obvious? It’s only been a week,” Aurora replied and held her head down as she felt another bout of nausea.

Maybe it was the idea of the baby, or the time that had passed that had driven a wedge between the friends that needed mending, that cause Bjorn to display elation at the news. He went over to Aurora, and knelt next to her. “May I?”  he asked, signaling her stomach.

Aurora looked to Nevaeh and when he nodded, she approved. The man looked awed when he touched her stomach and then his face lit up and he looked at her. “This is the first baby between a being of earth and one from Thrax,” he said as if the baby had suddenly developed grave importance to his people. He spoke reverently and with respect that Aurora couldn’t help being filled with wonder.

“I suppose so, though I am dreadfully frightened. I don’t know what to expect,” she said to him.

“You have a good guide,” he said and stood to congratulate Nevaeh. “Now I see the stars had something different planned for you altogether my friend,” he said and clapped him on the back. “This is big; you need to have the ceremony, and make her official.

“Wait, what ceremony?” Aurora asked.

Nevaeh walked over to her and held her hand. “It is our custom here to have a celebration when a woman gets impregnated, so that the Gods can bless the baby even from the womb.”

“But what about…the people?” she asked. “Will your leaders agree to that? I don’t belong here.”

“You carry a son of Thrax,” Bjorn spoke up before Nevaeh could even answer. “That is your right to be here.”

Aurora smiled after he spoke, and then she looked back to Nevaeh. “And this is something you want to do?”

“It is something I must,” he told her. “I was planning to bring it up today.”

“I will speak for you Nevaeh,” he said and the excitement returned to his voice as his face lit up. “The first of his kind-that child will be something special.”

“Thanks Bjorn,” Nevaeh said.

“You two will have to excuse me,” Aurora said as she made another mad dash to the bathroom.

“Yes indeed,” Bjorn grinned. “I’m sorry man,” he turned to Nevaeh and said. “But you know we were taught that the people of earth…”

“No need,” Nevaeh said and silenced his friend. “I’m just glad everything is working out.”

“Me too,” he replied.

The two men stood there in the room grinning like Cheshire cats when Aurora returned, and she couldn’t help but be affected by their contagious attitude. She walked over to Nevaeh and kissed him lovingly, and Bjorn stared as he witnessed the novel yet strange phenomenon that was about to change the lives of everyone on Thrax.

************

Aurora stood nervously at the stone pillar just outside the sacred halls. She was dressed in a long white gown that fell to her ankles. Nevaeh stood next to her, in a long white robe with a broad golden belt. It was an important day for her, and for them; the day when she would officially be welcomed by the people of Thrax and blessings would be bestowed on their baby. Nevaeh stood there beaming with pride as he looked at the small swelling on her stomach. The bells pealed then, and the two marched off to meet the elders as they waited for them at the end of the march. There were rows of ministers, leaders, commanders and regular citizens lining the walk, and two little girls marched before them scattering white petals.

It felt like a grand coronation to Aurora, and she was as nervous as she was excited, and she returned the smiles of many of the people who nodded their approval as she passed. She felt Neveah’s grip tighten on her, and she squeezed his hand in return.

“Will it hurt?” she whispered as they walked.

“No,” he told her. “They have a special technique to applying the paint. It is usually done just as the baby is born, and sealed into him forever.”

She drew a deep breath and kept walking into the future she could not have foreseen. The elder took her hand as she got to the podium, and then he held both their hands and turned them to the people. They chanted and hummed something unfamiliar to Aurora, but it had to be good, because when she looked over at Nevaeh he was grinning.

Then the elder held both Aurora’s hand and turned her to him. “Welcome, woman of Thrax,” he smiled.

Aurora beamed when he spoke, and she felt the baby inside her move, and she knew that though nothing would be the same again, that it would be better too.

THE END

 

Star Dragon

CHAPTER ONE

“Shit!” Staff Sergeant Keandra Calhoun carefully got out of her rocket ship and surveyed the damage. She’d been sent out on a routine patrol of the area, but somehow she’d lost control of her ship and crashed into the rocky mountains on Hoth. The cold, gunmetal gray planet was in enemy territory, and she did not want to be stuck here. Unfortunately, her ship was inoperable. The entire front engine was gone, and there were jagged gashes along the hull.

She also had a gaping hole in her leg, where debris from the ravaged ship had stabbed her.

Frustrated, Keandra slapped the hull with her hand. “Goddammit!” She took off her goggles and looked around to make sure no one was around. Thankfully, the Hoths had not been alerted to her presence. Not yet anyway.

The Hoths were a brutal, fierce and militant race of aliens known for taking other species prisoner – the ones who weren’t murdered became subservient slaves who likely wished they were dead. They were shifters; half humanoid lifeforms, half slimy monsters with poisonous tentacles.

Keandra did not want to meet one of these filthy fuckers.

Leaning against her ship, she did her best to stay down and hidden in case any Hoths were also on patrol and came across her. If her ship was working properly, she might have been able to use her invisibility force field, but alas…

“Come in, Terra One,” she said into her communicator. “Terra One, this is Calhoun.”

There was no signal on her device. Eventually, she had to give up and put it back into a pocket of her green cargo pants. What now?

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. Reaching into her pants, she pulled out her small, purple blaster gun, ready to shoot whoever this stranger was. Thankfully, it was only one pair of footfalls or she would have been in big trouble. Keandra could take one Hoth. She knew she could.

But what appeared instead was a tall, blueish man with dark green hair held back in a low bun on his head, and light green scales on his forearms and neck. He was wearing a green patrol outfit, similar to hers actually.  Instead of coming in to attack her, this stranger seemed more… curious. He stopped several feet from her crash site.

“Don’t shoot,” he said, raising his arms to show that he did not have a blaster. “I am Albion Pogona. I am a weredragon. I am not from Hoth. Please.”

Keandra slowly lowered her blaster. “Are you with the Resistance?” she asked him, keeping her blaster in her hand but no longer pointing it at him.

The dragon shifter swallowed hard and nodded. “I want to get you out of here before anyone sees you. Come with me.”

Accepting that her ship was a loss now, Keandra nodded and went to this Albion Pogona. Up closer, she could see that he had gold eyes and a more reptilian appearance than she had noticed before. It was much more difficult to notice such traits when all she was focused on was defending herself.

The green uniform almost matched his green scales. They were a few shades lighter, whereas the uniform was olive, or whatever term the weredragon aliens had for olive. Albion was at least six and a half feet tall. He towered over Keandra, who was tough and fiery at only five foot two and a half.

More importantly, Albion was gorgeous. He had chiseled features, a pointed chin and a long, well-defined nose like a Greek statue. His attractive face and muscled body could almost make up for the fact that he was covered in scales and obviously an alien.

She did not know if she should feel safe with him, but what choice did she have now?

Albion walked her back to his ship, which was parked nearby. She limped along beside him, trying not to noticeably wince or grimace as the pain of the accident finally got her attention. She acted tough and brave so that he would not hurt her.

They walked aboard as quickly as she could handle, and he set the autopilot’s course. Keandra made sure to stay close so she could monitor his coordinates.

“If I was going to kill you, I would have done it already,” Albion said calmly, smirking slightly as he turned the dials and pushed several buttons.

“I thought you said you didn’t have a gun.”

He turned toward her then and produced three blasters from the recesses of his cargo pants. He placed them on the ship’s dashboard. “I fabricated that. I knew you would just shoot me if I had a weapon drawn, and that would’ve been fucking annoying for both of us.”

Keandra looked at him, shocked and somehow appreciative.

“You’re hurt,” he said then, blinking slowly like she saw a lizard once do in a zoo, his odd, thin eyelids moving over his reptilian eyes. “Come with me.”

Before she could protest, Albion lifted her into his arms and carried her down the main hall of the ship and into a cabin. He laid her on the bed and ripped her pants open so he could get at her wound on her right calf.

“Hey!” she shouted. “In case you weren’t aware, this is currently my only pair of pants!”

Albion ignored her. He turned from her and reached into the medicine cabinet. He dumped a strange pink liquid onto a piece of gauze. Then he turned back around and immediately put the gauze on her injured leg.

No warning. No ‘this might sting a little.’ Just bam! – right onto her open wound.

“Star shitter!!” she swore, flailing and banging her fist against the stiff mattress. It felt like lemon juice into a papercut on her eyeball. The worst pain she could imagine. “Why??”

He looked at her, blinking again. “You’re injured.”

“I know I’m fucking injured,” she snapped. “But you could’ve prepared me.”

Albion considered that. “Vlwarx may sting a little.”

“Thank you for that,” Keandra said, taking a deep breath and then exhaling it out hotly through her nostrils.

He continued to administer the unfamiliar medication to Keandra’s calf, while she bit her lip and kept her swears inside. It hurt like hell, but at least he was trying to help her. After a few moments, the medication seemed to be doing its job and she no longer felt pain. There was a numbness in her leg, but she preferred not feeling anything to the excruciating pain she had been experiencing.

Once a liberal amount of the Vlwarx was put on her leg, Albion closed up the bottle and threw the used gauze into a trash bin. Then he wrapped some soft, pink bandages around her injured calf.

“How did you crash your ship?” he asked, looking into her eyes. It turned out that his eyes were not just gold. They had a thin band of green around the pupils. His eyes did not help him appear more human, but Keandra found him attractive in an exciting and different way. Albion was alluring.

She really hoped she could trust him.

“My ship’s navigation system went out of control,” Keandra explained. “I think a signal came from Hoth and conflicted with my software. I was doing a routine patrol of the area to make sure our enemies are staying in line. Please, I beg you; don’t let anyone on Hoth know I’m here.”

Albion looked at her as though considering his options. He stroked his pointed chin. Some green scruff was forming there, the same color as his scales. Keandra wondered what he would look like with a beard. If it was possible to internally roll her eyes at herself, that’s what she was doing.

“I will not tell anyone,” he told her. “You are safe with me.”

Keandra let herself believe him. When she looked into his eyes, she could see that he was not like the other aliens she had come across on all of her missions. He was decent. He was compassionate. He was not out to attack her or her people.

He had to be with the Resistance. After all, the Hoths were brutally enslaving and killing off many other species in their quadrant of the galaxy. As far as Keandra knew, his race was one such species. She wondered what his race was, but of course she was not going to ask that. It did not matter, as long as he was not a Hoth.

“Now you should get some rest. I will make some food for us.” Albion put all of the first aid tools back into the cabinet and then gently but firmly pushed her back onto the mattress so she would lie down.

He left the cabin then, the door whizzing open and then shut behind him. Keandra did as she was instructed and stayed lying flat on the mattress, hoping that Albion’s miracle elixir would be enough to completely heal her wound, no matter how unrealistic that was. She had seen aliens achieve some pretty crazy things.

She wondered what the dragon shifter had been up to when he discovered her crashed rocket ship. Had he been patrolling just like she was? Keandra felt extremely fortunate that he had come across her, instead of the enemy.

If a Hoth had found her, she would have more than a stinging leg to complain about.

When Albion returned, he was carrying a chrome tray full of food that looked remarkably similar to food from Earth. Keandra opened her mouth to question that, but he just smirked a little. For a lizard-like creature, he had nice, full lips.

“I have been to Earth before,” he said, to explain away her puzzled expression. “I did not get to stay for long, but I was there long enough to know what a sandwich is.”

He sat beside her on the bed and placed the tray onto her lap. She sat up and admired her meal. Sandwich, a salad that seemed mostly fine except for some purple lumps that she suspected were not eggplant… And a glass of pinkish milk.

Keandra pointed at her milk. “What is this?”

Albion’s face went red. “Well, there are no bovine here, obviously. It’s milk from a skrack.”

She had no idea what a skrack was, but it did not sound as tasty as cow milk. Still, she did not want to be rude to the person who had rescued her and taken such good care of her thus far. So, instead of making a disgusted face, like she wanted to do, Keandra just took a sip of the strange milk.

It did not taste as bad as she expected. Actually – surprisingly – it did not taste so different from normal milk.

“Wow,” she said. “Way to go, skrack.”

Albion smiled at her, seemingly pleased by her enjoyment of his offerings. “So, what do you do on these missions you go on?” he asked, continuing to make an effort for small talk.

“I mostly just fly around, making sure that everything is going in an orderly way. I seek out enemies and keep them more or less in line,” Keandra said. “But I mostly just fly around and monitor things.”

He nodded, understanding.

“What about you?” she asked. She had to know more about this mysterious weredragon, even if what she found out was not entirely pleasant.

Albion looked at her and then rubbed the palms of his large hands against his olive green cargo pants. Keandra got the impression that her question made him nervous; though why, she didn’t know.

“Same as you,” he said after a few moments of hesitation. “I was out patrolling the area for any suspicious activities. I suppose you are a suspicious activity.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you making a joke?” she asked, surprised.

He smiled and nodded.

“You will be safe in here,” he said then. “The door will be kept secure and no one is aware of your presence. The Hoths may know I’m here, but I am flying a Gekkota ship, not an Earthling ship. Worst case scenario is that they go after me for trespassing while being a Gekkota.”

Keandra frowned slightly at that. What he said was true; although he was not a Hoth, that only meant that he was another of their enemies. She was not any less likely to be captured now. But at least she would not be captured alone?

“And diverting from your mission would arouse suspicion,” she added with a nod. “I understand. Well, I won’t get in the way of your work. I can keep my mouth shut, as long as you can keep yours shut.”

Albion looked at her, tilting his head. If she ignored his scales, she could pretend that he was a normal Earthling man. Except he was light blue. A normal, Earthling man who was cold?

She was clearly starting to feel tired and woozy from the ordeal back with her ship. She finished up her meal without saying anything and soon Albion went back to his work elsewhere on the ship.

Setting the tray aside when she was done, Keandra lay back down on the stiff mattress and closed her eyes, falling asleep to the soft sound of the humming ship’s engine and the faint, distant sounds of Albion at work.

 

* * *

 

Bolting back up until a sitting position, Keandra gazed around the small cabin of the spaceship as she slowly remembered where she was. She had not been asleep for very long. Twenty minutes, tops. But she felt well-rested and ready to do something. She was not the kind of woman who would just sit back and let the man do everything for her! She was a staff sergeant, goddammit!

As soon as she stood up from the bed, she immediately regretted it. Her leg still felt like a limp noodle. Keandra held onto the bed so she would not completely fall to the hard steel floor.

“Albi…” she called, feeling disoriented. “Albion?”

The tall, lizard man strode into the room. He was wearing a face mask that one might wear whilst welding, but he pushed it up so she could see his face again and not be alarmed at his sudden, 1950s sci-fi appearance.

Not that Albion knew what sci-fi was. Or the 1950s, for that matter.

“What is it?” he asked. “Why are you out of your sleeping pod?”

Keandra looked at the bed and then up at him, into his eyes. “I don’t want to stay cooped up in here. I want to help.”

He pulled off the mask completely and set it aside on the counter under the first aid cabinet. He scratched his dark blue scruff. “The best way that you can help me right now is by resting and getting better,” he said.

She kept her eyes on his. “I don’t need a hero.” 

The truth was that she appreciated Albion’s help, and she wanted to return the favor. They were going to be flying around together for a while now, unless he planned to just drop her off somewhere as soon as he could be rid of her… And it did not seem like that was his plan. They were in this rebellion together, and she wanted to continue to do her part.

“I won’t do anything that further injures myself,” Keandra added, trying to persuade him. “I’ll even do a task that can be done sitting down.”

He sighed finally. “Fine. Come with me.”