Opening my eyes, the incredible reality of where I was slammed into me. I had dreamed of leaving Vaxivia for so long that I had to remind myself that I was actually awake, lucid, and in the middle of space, hurtling further and further away from the place I had felt trapped my whole life.

My chamber was dark, but out the porthole, I could make out the dazzling array of colors of some nebula I didn’t know. This could be my life if I could pull this story off and make it into a real news organization. I had applied to Intergalactica twice, and twice they had rejected me.

Submitting that first reel had been terrifying, but it had been my dream for so long that even though I felt insecure, I worked up my nerve, collected my best footage and stories, and put myself out there.

Two months later, I finally got the reply. It began simply with the beautiful tinkling laughter of Janara Phelps, lead reporter for Intergalactica, for a full forty-five seconds followed by a condescending pitying smile before she descended into a vicious five-minutes deconstruction of my footage and tore into every mistake or flaw that it contained.

I felt humiliated and crushed but not defeated. I listened to her critique, even the parts that seemed needlessly callous, and I worked hard to improve my reporting skills. It wasn’t easy but I was determined. I looked for stories with broader appeal, I refined the way I interviewed, and I grew into a better journalist.

By the time I submitted a second reel, I had developed the confidence that I had initially lacked. When I got that second rejection from a producer with Intergalactica, just as unprofessional and mean-spirited as the first, I knew the fault wasn’t with my skills as much as the snobbery that Earth Prime residents directed toward outlying colonies like Vaxivia. We were considered backwater and trash.

More than ever, I became determined to make it, to prove that I had what it took, despite coming from the fringes and lacking the proper academic pedigree or the elite connections. One day, I would be just as big as them and I would throw my success back in their beautiful, plastic faces.

All my life, I had been told to stop pushing, to accept boundaries and obstacles and just make peace with things the way they were. Now that I had my chance to finally prove all of that wrong, to finally prove the doubts in my own mind wrong, I wasn’t letting go.

Understanding the background of the Dragselian-Infernian conflict was one side of this story, but the bigger part, the part that I knew an agency like Intergalactica would be interested in, was the human side. An alien conflict far from Earth Federation space was of little interest to Earth humans unless they had some kind of connection.

I needed to focus on the human companions who were accompanying the Dragselians, who were willing to risk limb and life for a fight that wasn’t theirs. That was a compelling story, a sweeping epic about love across galaxies, interstellar and interspecies political alliances, and understanding the aliens who had influenced human mythology for millennia.

I dressed quickly into a sleek, fitted dark blue jumpsuit that I had brought with me. At the time I had thrown my things together, it had seemed like a stealthy sort of outfit one might wear while prowling for a story. Even though I realized the image I had originally conjured was a bit ridiculous, the jumpsuit was fabulously comfortable.

Grabbing the scribe pad I always had on me for notes, I made my way out of the room only to find Pavar already in the hall, waiting for me. I knew he meant to keep a close eye on me, but I was a little flustered by his presence. I wanted to focus on interviewing his brother’s human mates and the crew, but it was going to be a challenge to focus with his broad muscular form following me around.

“Good morning,” I said politely.

From his somewhat stunned expression, he seemed to enjoy my outfit choice, and I felt a little warmth bloom in my chest.

Recovering quickly, he said, “Good morning to you, though the concept of day or night is rather moot when you’re in the eternal blackness of deep space.”

“That makes sense. How do you time your daily biorhythm then?”

He shrugged. “Space travel is an odd thing. The hours begin to blend together, and a trip that, in reality, takes two weeks, can feel like a handful of days when there is no external tracking measure for your mind to utilize.”

“Well, I think it’s marvelous,” I said honestly and began walking toward the canteen. “I was hoping to speak with Jennifer and the other humans onboard. I would love to ask them a few questions about their backgrounds and what is driving them to participate in this situation.”

Tossing his straight auburn hair over a muscular shoulder, he walked beside me. “I don’t see a problem with that, I suppose.”

We wound through the passage and came upon Tasha first. She was seated at a table in a multipurpose room looking at some kind of programming code on a holopanel.

She looked up at us as we approached, and I smiled, trying to project a casual friendliness.

“Hi, guys, something I can help you with?” she asked.

Having interviewed her before, I knew she was particularly analytical and efficient with her time, not one for small talk. I respected that. Though small talk was often part of my job, I didn’t like artificial conversation any more than the next person.

“Ms. Mercury would like to talk to you and the other humans on board,” Pavar brusquely informed her as he grabbed a handful of scones from a sideboard.

I explained further. “I am really hoping to understand what is driving you all to participate in such a dangerous expedition when most humans, especially Vaxivians, are terrified of aliens.”

She smiled and replied, “Well, to be honest, I was one of those terrified humans myself, not long ago. Love has a way of challenging your fears, though, of forcing you to really look at yourself and the conceptions you hold about yourself and others. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I have no problem acknowledging that Ragal and I are together.”

I was surprised, to say the least. With massive personal wealth and a highly successful company under her command, Tasha Lord-Case was one of the most eligible women on Vaxivia. She could have her pick of men. Though, from my time working the Society Watch, I couldn’t blame her for not being blown away by the crop of men in her circles.

“I wasn’t aware, but how romantic! Was it love at first sight then?”

She laughed. “I was certainly captivated. It might have been love at first sight, but I think it takes time to separate whether something is love or just lust. That initial spark, that drive, when you see them for who they really are, and then that spark doesn’t go away. It only increases. It grows and consumes you. That’s love.” She had a wistful smile on her face, similar to Jennifer’s expression when she spoke of Zaruv the day before.

I began to feel a little uncomfortable on a topic I was so unacquainted with and shifted the conversation back to more familiar territory.

“I know there was recently some tragedy in your office when your CFO was murdered. Who will run LCC in your absence?”

“The same person who ran it before me. My father has been slowly recovering from the medical crisis he suffered. His mind is as sharp as ever and his strength is returning. Before long, he will be the hale and healthy man who built the company into what it is.”

That was interesting. “So are you stepping down as CEO?”

She hesitated. “Much will depend on what happens when we reach Dragselia. I loved running the business, but we’ve also already begun several projects that will vastly improve life on Vaxivia based on technology that Ragal and his brothers have shared with me and my team. My hope is to work to establish some sort of technological exchange—a scientific alliance, if you will—that could benefit both our planets.”

We discussed for some time all of the different programs that LCC was beginning. Her icy blue eyes sparkled with interest and ambition, and I recognized the look of determination on her face as she spoke about improving the conditions on Vaxivia. She was one of the few members of Vaxivia’s elite who actually cared about the everyday citizen.

An alarm buzzed on her holopanel, interrupting our discussion, and she hurried back to her lab.

As people wandered in and out of the multipurpose room, I chatted with Nurin, the male crewmember who was recruited as a mechanical engineer, and Laniope, a lovely young avionics specialist from Nebbia with pink dyed skin.

Both were fascinated with the ship’s mechanics and had assisted with its reconstruction. They had been rigorously screened. I learned there had been an Infernian who had infiltrated the LCC company. They had won the privilege of working aboard the ship, narrowly beating out a large field of eager applicants from within LCC’s famous research enclave.

I wanted to know more about the presence of Infernians on Vaxivia, but they both closed off when I ventured toward that topic, so I backed off, biding my time.

I also spoke briefly with Andie, the outspoken, spunky militia member from the outpost who had fallen in love with Karun, the very serious, no-nonsense middle brother. It struck me as strange that none of the brothers had mates when they came to Vaxivia. Going by their looks, from a human perspective, there was certainly nothing lacking. If anything, they were massively distracting.

Every now and then, I felt Pavar’s gaze upon me. The heat of his attention gave me goosebumps, and I would look up at him, making eye contact. Caught, we both looked away quickly, but I sensed a growing awareness developing and I didn’t know what to make of it. I was both glad for and frustrated by the presence of the others and the job that their presence reminded me that I was there to do.

Finally, we were summoned to the canteen, where everyone but Ragal, who was manning the ship’s flight controls, was sharing a meal. I managed to evade Pavar as he dove happily into a plate of food.

I snuck into the meal prep station and peeked at the equipment, at the foreign instruments and devices. Every glimpse into this other culture was fascinating.

I felt a presence behind me and turned to find Jennifer with her flaming bright curls watching me.

“Jennifer! I was actually hoping to chat with you again. I’d love to learn more about your life with Zaruv. May I ask you a few questions about your relationship? Like, who made the first move?”

“I’m not sure how that relates to a story about Infernians,” she said, looking suspicious. “Just what kind of story are you after here?” Her voice sounded slightly chillier than it had before. “Before I answer any more of your questions, I need to know you’re not going after the people I love, that you’re not going to turn this into some hot scoop of the week,” she concluded, her voice carrying just the barest hint of a warning.

I could understand her concern and I spoke to her honestly. “I’m only after the truth. I’m not looking to smear anyone or to inflame fears of alien invasions. I’m here because this is an important story about a threat that has impacted us all, and it should be told.

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping this would help my career. I have a job, and I want to be good at it, like anyone else, but I’m not here to distort and manipulate the facts. I understand you care deeply for Zaruv and his brothers, and I’m not here to cast them as some kind of alien monsters, because I can plainly see that they’re not,” I said, looking through the window into the canteen at them all gathered together.

Glancing back at Jennifer, she looked only partly satisfied and I knew I had to be completely honest with her and myself.

I swallowed and, in the privacy of the prep area, I admitted, “That’s not the only reason I’m asking these questions, if I’m honest. I’m here to do my job, but I can’t deny that I’m finding myself drawn to Pavar.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her suppress a smile. “I see. Well, I’ve been in that position too. I tried to pretend like I wasn’t affected by Zaruv, like there wasn’t an instant animal attraction, but it finally became too silly, playing at a game that left us both unhappy, and there was no reason for it.”

“Its strikes me as so odd that none of them had mates already,” I said, voicing my thoughts from before.

“No kidding, right? They’re all gorgeous in their own right. Dragselian culture is still very foreign to me, but because of their laws and traditions, it was always known that they would be exiled to some outlying Dragselian colony. So, while they enjoyed status and privilege during their youth, as adults, they weren’t quite fully accepted into high society. The nobility is keen on maintaining their own status, and mating with an exiled prince is basically social suicide.”

“What silly, pathetic reasoning,” I said, feeling a pang of sorrow for the rejection Pavar and his brothers had faced.

“Yes, but I can’t complain too much. If it weren’t for their exile, I would never have met Zaruv.”

“So, the two of you maintained your distance at first?” I asked, still curious.

“Well, it was more me. I had a history of bad relationships and I was terrified of letting myself be vulnerable again. Zaruv made hints and flirted, but I kept him at arm’s length until I finally got tired of trying to pretend I wasn’t just as interested. So, I decided to be direct in what I wanted, to take a chance on happiness, and I haven’t regretted it once.”

I considered the two of them. “Yes, you are very well-suited. Zaruv is very loyal and very protective. His primary concern seems to be the well-being and safety of those whom he loves, and you have a very nurturing, caring personality. Combined with your profession, the two of you are a good match.”

“You’re very observant,” she said, smiling.

I laughed. “Well, that is my job, after all.”

She looked serious for a moment. “Well, don’t let your job get in the way of your own happiness.”

Zaruv called to her, and when she answered, Pavar looked up and the two of us locked eyes again. It felt like this heat between us was drawing me in, and I decided, right then, that I was going to let it.