* * *

I: The Fact of the Matter

Adrien always thought that life was better when dealing with it in facts. Facts could never lie, for instance, and while facts might be hard to swallow, they would always steer a person to the truth.

Fact one: She was light years away from any human civilization.

Fact two: That wasn’t a bad thing, she was a scientist, after all. She had been trained to deal with those situations.

Fact three: She was a captive – a prisoner.

Fact four: That, also, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Her captor wasn’t an unknown factor, and she could use that to her advantage.

She breathed in, out, reviewing those facts in her head. Adrien supposed that she should feel a little more… Well, more. But the fact remained was that she hadn’t been killed yet, hadn’t been harmed. She’d only been taken. Why? She could venture a guess, but that guess wasn’t necessarily a welcome one. She didn’t know how well that would bode for her as time went on, but at the very least, she appreciated feeling like she was prepared. With that in mind, she cleared her throat, speaking from the floor where she was bound with plasma-cuffs.

“Subject X?”

He didn’t respond to her, which wasn’t that surprising, considering the way that she had addressed him. He didn’t like being called Subject X, but it was a hard habit for her to break, even when she was in such a predicament. Realizing the mistake, she sighed, blowing the hair out of her face as she did.

She needed to amend her grievance.

“I’m sorry. Mor’an? Will you speak to me? Will you tell me why you’ve taken me?”

The alien glanced over at the sound of his name. He was at the control panel, standing before it and the great plane of glass in front of it. As a native Jundar, he could almost pass as human – though he was much larger than the average human male and the exposed skin of his chest and arms had a silvery sheen to it. His blondish hair was short, cropped close to his head, and the particularly striking thing about him were the perfectly obsidian eyes set into his face – no whites present.

The anatomy otherwise was all the same, either way, and Mor’an merely shrugged his shoulders as he regarded her before turning away.

That was frustrating. He only ever treated her this way when there were others around; he’d outright refused to speak to the other researchers, wouldn’t even answer yes or no questions unless it was just her there, alone with him; he’d always favored her presence to others. Now, with no one else around them, she had expected that he would at least speak to her, would at least answer such a simple question. Instead, he chose to ignore her. She huffed.

“I agreed to come with you without a fuss, Mor’an, you could at the very least tell me why you took me.” Again, there was silence. Adrien scowled, irritated. She was resigned to sit there, as stubborn in her silence as Mor’an was as he continued to ignore her.

When he had broken out of his captivity and taken her with him, she had gone without fighting. Her curiosities over what he was doing outweighed any potential fear that she might have had otherwise about what he was going to do to or with her – but now, she wished she had at least had the sense to ask him what his plans were exactly before he decided to give her the silent treatment. She had almost always been left with more questions than answers when she dealt with Mor’an. In the comfort of the labs, it had sparked curiosity, a desire to get closer, learn more. Now it only infuriated her that this is what her situation was.

“You’re mine.”

His voice so sudden made her jump. Her brows furrowed a bit, and stared at him as he continued to not look or speak further to her.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“You’re mine,” he repeated. This time, he turned around to her. The low hum of the ship filled the silence, just long enough for him to fold his arms over his broad chest. “I’ve chosen you. You’re mine. I no longer wanted to remain on your planet, with your scientists and your questions, but I would not leave you there – so I took you with me. Is that sufficient?”

He said it so plainly, as he always did, she would have been stunned had she not been used to it. She had, after all, been studying him for months. She chewed on the inside of her mouth, though. He had chosen her? Was that some sort of… mating thing?

“I don’t understand,” she said honestly. “You never expressed an interest in reproduction, let alone with me or any other human. You also came to the labs of your own violation, so what does all of this – breaking out, taking me – what was the point of it? I don’t understand.”

He continued to regard her, as he usually did when they began their talks like this. She would ask him questions, he’d answer, and typically that would lead to more question asking until their time together was up. That’s how it always went; it was oddly comforting to Adrien that that hadn’t changed, simply because he had, for lack of a better word, abducted her and taken her captive from the research facility.

“We never got around to talking about it,” he said simply. “My people sent me so that I might see if there was any stock to your people. I thought perhaps there was something to find in your kind… something interesting. I was disappointed as a whole. Your superiors wanted to know about things like our armies… our government… Things that don’t matter; the Jundar have no interest in your pitiful human civilization, no matter how much your kind try to insert yourselves into the greater parts of the universe. You though… I stayed because you were interesting, and our talks held merit. We almost got there, when we started talking about the culture of my planet and my people, though. Our, what did you call it, our biology? But I had found myself bored playing the game of your people.”

He walked over to Adrien. His steps thudded heavily against the floor. She had had one on one moments with Mor’an before – but never quite like this. She had never been restrained. She had never had him in the position of power over her.

Despite all of this, she wasn’t afraid of him.

Mor’an crouched down in front of her, putting him level to her. She stared back at him, her eyes on his, unwavering in the stare of pitch black back at her. The feeling of her heart beating could be felt in her ears, pounding in her head as she waited, anticipated, his next move.

He had never, once, been so close to her, either. How had she never noticed the soft, alluring scent of him before? It threw her off a bit, and she had to shake her head before addressing the real issue at hand.

“So, what does your biology have to do with you kidnapping me?” She kept her eyes on him, and he did the same with her. It would have been unnerving had he been a stranger.

“I thought there was something different about you,” he said. “You appealed to me when I first saw you.” Again, he shrugged. “My people… there is a pull towards the person our body wants us to mate with. My body wants you. It’s not common to want it with something that isn’t the same as we are, but it happens sometimes. There’s something about you that that’s alluring… appealing. Eventually you’ll come to understand it; it’s how it works.”

He said it, as if it were just that simple. Adrien, however, found herself questioning that. She wasn’t Jundar; she was human, her biology was human.

That being said, if Mor’an thought that she was that to him… some sort of biologically intended mate, that meant he wasn’t going to hurt her – she was important to him, then. Her mind began to work, thinking perhaps she could use that to her advantage. And, honestly?

If she needed to use that appeal to keep herself safe and alive, then she would.

“I see,” she said, not fully understanding, but deciding she would leave it for the time being. She sat back, and Mor’an seemed pleased that was accepting this. He left her on the floor, returning to the control panel. Adrien said nothing, did nothing – but she began to think. One way, or another, she would get herself out of the situation she found herself in. Luckily for her, she had an angle to work.

She could only hope that Mor’an wouldn’t see through it.