Tyr

The human woman is as small as I expected her to be, but she is not completely helpless. How she climbed six feet up into that tree is beyond me, especially after just being winded by that tchakara’s pounce. I know plenty of younger Mahdfel warriors who would have taken ten minutes to stay on their knees and gasp after a blow to the chest like that, but she just sprang up those branches. I did hear that humans are genetically similar to those monkey creatures from Earth, and that probably explains it.

Still, I can’t help but be impressed that when I reached her she didn’t seem that frightened at all.

But I am not here to be impressed by her, I am here to deliver her to Wrax without having her attacked. When I do so, we will find a way to see who her next best match is on Paxia. As she is a 99% match with me, she will probably be a match with some other Mahdfel too, so she can go off to him instead and I can stay in my ship, hovering in space on my own. Dodging asteroids and exploring wreckages and fighting battles.

Exactly the way my life is supposed to be. It’s no life for a young, sweet, laughably frail human … one that happens to have the kind of feminine curves that make me want to press her against my firm body to see if she fits; with a scent like soft flowers and sweet spices. No life at all.

Which is why I lied about her true mate. Why confuse her by telling her it is me but that I wish nothing to do with her? No reason to complicate things. When she finds another man for her, she will be much happier.

But as I watch her carefully undo her long, wavy locks of wet black hair from a ponytail, and lean forward to scrub it into a shape more voluminous, I have to suppress my tattoos from glowing silver across my skin. I would love to have a night of fun with this human; she is objectively incredibly beautiful. For an alien.

I turn away, trying not to think about her being claimed by another man.

A man who is nowhere near as good as me, in any way. A growl rattles in my throat and she glances over to me with something akin to worry.

“You see something?”

I shake my head. My senses are so sharpened that I would not have to turn to look to know that a predator was nearby. We are safe. The tchakara tend to stay far away from the Mahdfel. That runt was probably just curious about her foreign scent more than hungry, but it still could have torn her apart if it felt like it.

It is a good feeling, to feel like a hero again. The first time in many years. The main reason I so desperately missed my ship, I realize, is because within her rusted walls I am a war hero. Indispensable.

It’s nice to remind myself that I can find that feeling elsewhere.

“Here,” she says, stopping so suddenly that I almost slam into her, and the thought of pressing my body into her soft-looking back almost riles me up, but I curb it and regain my composure before she can turn and see my glowing tattoos.

“There is no building here,” I state, wondering if she is an idiot. What would it say about me if the DNA lottery sent me a 99% match and she had the intelligence of a baby quibbin? I would have to bash some heads together for the insult.

She sighs, and rests her hands on her soft, full hips, and I find that I am staring at her curves instead of where she is nodding towards. “General, do you see what I mean now?”

I look up and then push an obstructive branch away from my face and squint further, almost as if humoring her. There is…

Wait.

I stride forward and then yank the tight tendrils of the plants away from the crumbling walls, and inside I see as clear as day that there is a teleportation tube in perfect working condition.

This is indeed where she appeared from, and … the rest of the laboratory is gone. Years ago, it looks like. The plants here on lush, vibrant Aeo work fast and I know that the Mahdfel farmers spend plenty of time battling with the wildlife as a part of their jobs, but I am amazed.

“Can you figure out how to send me back through it?” she asks. “I could just go back to Earth and tell them there’s been a mistake. It’s just that there’s no control panel, no buttons, nothing.”

“No,” I grunt, tossing the plant matter to the ground and peering closer. “This is a receiver. Nothing more, nothing less. You cannot send anything through this. The teleportation device back on Paxia can send objects, though. So we will return there and the king will know what to do with you.”

She wrinkles her nose. “The way you talk makes me sound really unwanted,” she says with a laugh. “The guy, the Mahdfel I matched with, do you know anything about him? Is he a warrior? Will he go and fight?”

I frown. I have no idea what to tell her. I suppose I cannot begrudge her her curiosity, but I don’t have much by way of imagination. So I just shrug and tell her about myself. “He is a warrior,” I say. “A fine warrior indeed. One of the best.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she says, lighting up.

“I did not realize that humans were so interested in the warrior lifestyle. I thought the majority of you preferred to stay away from war and conflict.”

She chews her lip as she helps me to clear the area of twisting vines and sticky leaves. There is no real reason to do what we are doing, but I feel the need to do it out of respect for Aeo. And she doesn’t question me, she just helps.

“I am not interested in war or conflict, especially,” she says after a moment. “But I have plenty of experience in pharmaceuticals and an undergrad degree in medicine. I just figured that if I have to live my life here, I want to make the most of it and be as useful as I can be.”

“That is admirable,” I tell her, and I mean it. It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but if somebody had told me in no uncertain terms that I had to relocate to Earth and live my life there as one of the only Mahdfel around, and adapt completely as quickly as possible, I feel as though I — and anyone else I know — would be thrown for perhaps several years, at least.

But she is taking it merrily in her stride, even moments after being toyed with by an alien predator.

Tougher than I thought.

I watch the way a damp strand of long dark hair falls across her face and she runs her fingers through it idly.

The way she spoke, though … I wonder if she is hiding something. Her mannerisms have changed almost imperceptibly now that she has said that. “Is there anything else?” I ask, hoping to coax it out of her, though I am not entirely sure why I care.

“Anything else what?” she chirps, not meeting my gaze. Hmm. She is hiding something.

“A reason you want your future mate to be a warrior?”

She is silent, and then shakes her head. A smile widens across my face.

“Is it perhaps because … you find that to be an attractive quality in a mate? That is very Mahdfel of you, I must say.”

She laughs quickly, and shakes her head harder. “No!” she says. “That’s not why.”

“Ah, so there is a reason?” I say, and she lets out a sigh as she attempts to clear a large piece of rubble away.

“Fine, yes, there is a reason.”

“Well, you must tell me,” I say, lifting the slab of wall she is struggling with, as if it weighs nothing, and tossing it away. The room is now clear, and there is nothing nearby. No comms system. No black box. No sign that anyone has been here in many years.

I have no way of knowing what has happened to the Aeon ambassadors, or lab workers, or anyone who lived nearby. I can only hope they simply migrated to another part of the moon, and it is nothing more sinister than that.

“I dunno. Can I trust you, Tyr?”

Heat swirls through my body at that, and I stand up straight and look her straight in the eyes with intensity. “I may be many things,” I tell her, leaning in close, “but untrustworthy is not one of them.”

She stifles her laughter and it is clear to me now that she was just joking. I frown at her while she shakes her head. I get a hit of her feminine scent, one that I haven’t experienced in any form in five years, and it makes my head fuzzy. I am pretty sure that no Firosan resonated with me quite like this, anyway. She spots my glowing tattoos and raises her eyebrows, but before she can ask what they are, I cut in.

“So explain this to me. Why do you want to be with a fighter? It would be safer to be with a farmer, a merchant, a fisherman. And humans are not built for combat; especially not human females.”

She wrinkles her nose at this again, and I do not know if I have offended her. But the Firosans were not interested in combat one bit, and they are the only females I knew well in the galaxy.

“Because…” She gives a heavy sigh, and falls to a sit on some rubble. I sit opposite her and rest my hands on my knees. Her gaze falls slowly to my legs, spread apart, and then between them, and then she blushes and looks rapidly away, which makes me smile despite myself.

“Yes?”

“Because my mother is sick. She got sick fifteen years ago, when the Suhlik invaded. My father fought the aliens face to face and he was immunized for something they only ever called the ‘spore virus’. She wasn’t. My mother snuck into the battlefield because she wanted to see him … she was a passionate, emotional woman. She came home sick. Over the last few years she has been really sick, and the doctors just have no idea what to do. It’s a chemical that no longer exists on Earth, and the virus has mutated inside her.”

“She is dying?” I ask. My own mother died because of the Suhlik too. I know loss. I know pain. I hang my head in sympathy. “I am sorry you must go through that.”

She says something quiet, and I look up again until she repeats herself louder. “I won’t go through it,” she says. “I can fix her. I know I can. I just need an up to date version of the medicine. It will be on active military bases that fight the Suhlik. That’s why I … that’s why I wanted to be matched with a warrior. I thought every Mahdfel had access to military bases. I thought you were all fighting the Suhlik right now. I…” She buries her face in her hands and groans. “Now I’m stuck here. With nothing.”

I lean back and take her in. “I know what you mean,” I say finally.

She looks in. “You know what I mean in what way?”

“A spore virus. I know what you are talking about. It is a very rare occurrence but yes, exposure to the Suhlik can cause a severe reaction to an organic lifeform. Their home planet is a disgusting place, and they destroy everything they touch after a while. Generally it takes many decades for their presence to end life, but sometimes it happens quickly. Like a sustained allergic reaction. In those cases, yes, there is medicine. You are correct.”

She sits up straighter. “You know this because you’re a general,” she says.

“Of course.”

“You fight in the wars?”

“No. I am not active. I will be soon, but the Paxian military is in no shape to dive straight back into battle. We must refresh and regroup after their most recent devastating—”

“Yeah, OK, but you have a ship and you know where the nearest Mahdfel outposts are.” She stands up, folding her arms across her chest. She has a look of determination on her face that I can only describe as beautiful. I look away.

“That is against the orders of my king,” I tell her. “I am meant to keep you away from danger. There is no more dangerous place nearby than an active warzone.” I stand as well, uncomfortable at having to gaze up at her. Unused to it. “Obviously.”

“Right, I get that, but … my mother is dying.” She is desperate, I have seen that look before. I have seen it on myself several times. Usually before I do something reckless.

“Look, my job is to take you to the king. To find you a mate. Um, I mean, to find your mate. After that, your life is your own.” I raise my hands in a sign of apathy. “After that journey you can go where you like and I will not be stripped of my ship and my rank.”

She swears under her breath. “You did save me. I can’t do that to you. Fine. I’ll get to Paxia with you, and then I’ll figure it out from there. Let’s get to your ship.”

Before I can point out that this is precisely what I want too, she is already far away, and spinning on her heel to glare at me.

“Hurry up!” she calls over.

For the first time in recent memory, I follow an order without question.

* * *

We come to the clearing where I landed my ship, and she turns to me and frowns, her pretty features colored with confusion. “Is that it?” she asks. “That’s a ship? How do you fit inside?”

I try not to give away how annoyed I am by her words. “It is a ship. A military vessel, and you should show her some respect! She holds a crew of five, and we fit perfectly well.”

“A crew?”

“The others are hauling supplies to where the farmlands are supposed to be. If they are still there.” I grimace at the thought.

“I just … I’m sorry, I don’t see how even you fit on that thing.” She shrugs, and I wonder for the second time if she is being simple. I move around to where she is, clamping my hands on her shoulders and moving her to the side at the same time — marvelling at the warm, soft feel of her skin and then snatching my hands away as if electrocuted — so I can see what she is looking at.

Because I don’t understand anyone who can look at the Eclipse and not see home.

And then I do.

What Alyssa is looking at is just scrap metal. My beautiful ship. Most of the integrity, the hull, the engine, everything, has been stripped from her!

She is just a hunk of curved, studded metal lying lopsided on the dead grass I landed on when I arrived … less than an hour ago.

What happened?

I tilt back my head and let out a roar of pure anger that widens the human’s eyes.

“That’s not the whole thing, is it?” she asks, finally understanding what has happened here. “Sorry — I just figured it was a weird alien thing. Like maybe it was bigger on the inside than it is on the outside.”

I grit my teeth. “What?!” I demand. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

She sighs. “Sorry,” she says again. “Well, I guess there’s one good thing about this.”

I turn to her, glaring into her dark brown eyes as she looks up at me, fighting the urge to smile at my unhidden fury. “What? What could possibly be good about this? We are stranded here!”

She stands with her hands on her hips and looks around at the thick, lush greenery. “At least we know we aren’t alone.”