The smell of hicorn meat filled the house and had my mouth watering as if I hadn’t eaten for days. I loved my mother’s cooking, so much that I came by my parents’ house several times a week for a meal. My father always commented on the irony that I was Tribe Elder with anything I wanted at my beck and call, but still depended on my mom to make my dinner. Of course, I knew he enjoyed having me visit so frequently. At the very least, it offered them some relief from taking care of my little brother and sister, who had been surprise twins.

“You look tired, my parva’li,” mother said sympathetically, stroking my cheek with love.

“Beni,” my father interjected. He sounded exasperated, as he often did when Mother doted on me. “He’s an Elder, not a baby.”

“He’ll always be my baby,” mother crooned, stroking my cheek again.

I smiled back at her. I certainly wouldn’t have allowed my mom to behave in such a way with me in front of other tribesmen, and definitely not in front of other Elders. However, I didn’t mind her doing so in the confines of the home. I knew it made her happy.

“The hicorn smells great,” I commented with a hearty sniff. “Did you do something different?”

Before she could answer, Igno—my little brother—shrieked. “Who! Who!”

Mother, father, and I all looked around to see where he was pointing. Through the window, I could see the approaching figure of a woman. I recognized her instantly. My parents did as well, and they shot looks back and forth between each other. They thought I couldn’t see it. I ignored them and got to my feet.

“I’ll be right back,” I told them.

I had stepped out of the house before she drew near enough to announce her presence, and we met on the walkway. Her name was Pugna’ta, a beautiful tribeswoman with exquisite cheekbones and a figure that made A’li-uud men quiver. Her skin was as azure as a clear-day sky, which was a rare trait in our race, but it appeared lighter than it actually was in contrast with her long, braided, silvery-white locks.

“I knew you’d be here,” she purred.

I offered her a small, unemotional smile. “Hello, Pugna’ta.”

There was no bad blood between us, but Pugna’ta and I had a history; one I was insistent on never repeating again. We had engaged in a very brief, very intimate relationship many years ago. It had ended with mutual disinterest and a vivid knowledge of one another’s bodies. Pugna’ta was a warrior of my kingdom, widely regarded as merciless and lethal in battle. I considered her indispensable to my militia, but my desire to have her around no longer went beyond those lines. Prior to my being made Tribe Elder, she had reciprocated those feelings. Since my crowning, however, she had taken to showing up at my parents’ house, as well as mine, on a fairly regular basis with an excuse flimsy enough to see through but legitimate enough not to question.

I wasn’t foolish. I knew her interest in me was power-deep.

“It’s been a while,” she said smoothly. “How is the Honorable Rexstrenu’us?”

“I’m well, thanks. What can I do for you?” I asked crisply.

She tossed her braid over her shoulder, and I could clearly see slight irritation marring her otherwise perfect features. I didn’t care. If I gave her even the slightest hint of possible interest, she would jump on the opportunity to sink her claws in.

“I’ve heard some things,” she replied. “Disturbing things.”

“About what?” I asked abruptly growing a little annoyed. I knew Pugna’ta and her games, and I knew she would draw out the conversation as long as she could in hopes of being invited inside. I wasn’t interested in playing her games tonight; I wanted to eat mother’s hicorn.

Her eyes narrowed, and I realized she was actually serious. “Humans.”

“What about humans?”

“Look,” she said suddenly, sounding snappish and short-tempered. “I know you were at the Forum and you know what I’m talking about. This is serious.”

I maintained my calm as I said, “I know this is serious. What I don’t know is how you know anything about what was said at Forum, being you’re not an Elder and surely not present.”

“I have my ways,” she said dismissively.

It took a lot of effort on my part not to interject my own comments to that. Pugna’ta certainly did have her ways, and she was less than moral. It wasn’t surprising to me at all that she would stoop to such a level, but I couldn’t help wondering which Elder had been the one to bend to her will.

“The point is that we’re at risk. Albaterra is at risk,” she continued. “Never in our history have humans gotten so close to our planet. Our great advantage was knowing about their existence while they knew nothing of ours. That might have been compromised now.”

“I am aware of this, Pugna’ta,” I said exasperatedly. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that we need to do something,” she hissed, stepping closer to me.

“We are doing something. And, by ‘we,' I mean the Elders.”

She scoffed, rolling her head back with cynical amusement. “As long as that peace-monger Vi’den is running the forum, we’re not doing anything.”

My movement was swift and aggressive. I slammed my forearm into her throat, sending her flying backward. She landed off the path in the waist-high grass on her back. I heard bustling from inside the house and knew my family was watching everything that was happening, but I didn’t restrain myself. Walking to where she lay, I looked down at Pugna’ta with daggers in my eyes.

“I ought to have you locked away for that,” I said icily.

She scrambled to her feet, looking disheveled and furious. “How dare you,” she seethed.

“You’ve got that backward,” I said. “It’s a crime to disrespect an Elder, you know.”

For a moment, I thought she was going to attack me. Then, her face mellowed, and she looked at me with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Rex,” she murmured. Her tone was layered in false innocence, and she kept her gaze trained on mine. “I was out of line.”

I didn’t reply. In truth, had she spoken ill of any other Elder, I probably wouldn’t have even addressed it. Vi’den was my mentor, though, and an exceptionally kind soul. I was unyieldingly defensive of him, and I wasn’t going to let anyone—much less the haughty Pugna’ta—dishonor him.

“Really,” she said, closing the space between us and tracing a finger along the muscles of my chest. “I’m truly sorry, Rex.”

I grabbed her wrist and eased it back to her side. “What do you want, Pugna’ta?”

She pouted slightly with my rejection but said, “I want to help.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “How?”

“However you need me to,” she replied silkily. Again, she lifted her finger to my chest and dragged it along my pectorals, but I didn’t stop her this time. She looked at me with earnest, suggestive eyes and added, “I want to offer myself to you in any way I can.”

The offer was double-edged, and there was no good way for me to answer. If it became necessary for us to go to war with the humans, Pugna’ta would be a vital resource. Her sword skills alone could slay an army. She also, however, was implying something much more personal, and to accept or turn down one offer would be to accept or turn down the other. Of course, as Tribe Elder, she would go to war if I commanded her, but Pugna’ta was the stubborn type of individual who was at her best when she wanted to be.

Finally, I settled on a response. “Thank you, Pugna’ta. I’m glad to have your support.”

“Always,” she murmured.

“Let me walk you to the post,” I said pointedly.

She shook her head. “No need, My Liege. Why don’t you just”—she brushed the tip of her finger over my lips—“get back to your family?”

I waited outside until she reached the post that marked my parents’ property anyway, mainly to make sure she wasn’t going to turn around and come back. She threw a coy look to me over her shoulder before taking off at a sprint, and I knew I could finally go back inside.

“Is everything okay?” My father asked once I closed the door behind me.

I quickly ran through my options in my mind. I could tell them everything was fine and pretend the nature of Pugna’ta’s calling was purely social, or I could tell them something was going on. If I opted for the latter, I would have to decide how much information to share. Had it been anyone else, I would have shared very little, but, since they were my parents, I chose full disclosure.

“Pugna’ta visited to offer her help with a recent crisis,” I said slowly. My mother and father exchanged looks immediately, but I continued to speak. “The Elders were called to Forum today—”

“What’s going on?” Father interrupted. His tone was sharp and brusque, and I knew it was because he was worried.

I sighed and leaned in close to them so that my siblings wouldn’t hear. “I’m going to tell you, but you cannot tell anyone. I mean it. This could be a life-or-death matter.”

“Son,” my father said, putting a hand on my shoulder, “just tell us what’s happening.”

I looked at him. He stared back at me with a hard, concerned gaze. I turned my eyes to my mother, and she gave me a small nod of reassurance.

“Humans have entered our galaxy,” I said. I tried to keep my voice calm and level to prevent them from panicking, but my mother’s eyes opened wide immediately, and my father stiffened. “We have knowledge of at least four ships within Andromeda, and there is one ship approaching Albaterra.”

“Oh,” Mother said softly, placing a hand to her mouth.

“A vote was taken and passed to destroy the known ships within Andromeda’s borders, starting with the one nearest Albaterra, of course. Another vote was taken as to our next move after destroying the immediate threat. It was agreed that A’li-uud would go to Earth to question human leaders.” I inhaled a brief, slightly shaky breath and added, “we don’t know if they are aware of our existence or not.”

“I thought that was known,” father said loudly. He sounded angry. “We’ve been told they didn’t know of us.”

I nodded. “That was what we honestly believed. Now that they’re so near, we can’t be sure. It’s possible they just happened to be across our galaxy and Albaterra and have no idea we’re here. However, it’s equally as possible that they’re here for a reason.”

Mother’s eyes were as wide as saucers, and she looked over at my little brother and sister. I knew she was frightened, but I had nothing to say to reassure her.

“Does Vi’den believe they know about us?” Father asked. My father and Vi’den had known each other for many years, and much of my father’s concerns for the well-being of the A’li-uud race were alleviated in knowing Vi’den ran the Forum.

“He didn’t say, but I don’t think he believes—”

My words were cut off by a sudden, ground-shaking boom, and my father and I both jumped to our feet. Mother raced to my siblings and tugged them into her arms, but Igno tried to disentangle himself from her as he yelled, “Oh no! Oh no!”

“Quiet, Igno!” I barked, and he silenced immediately. There was another boom, smaller this time, and I turned to my father. “Stay here. Protect them.”

“You can’t go alone!” He said.

“They need you more than I do right now,” I told him. “Stay.”

Had I still been a child, he never would have listened to me. As his Tribe Elder, however, I had authority over him, and he knew it. He inclined his head in a show of obedient respect, and I darted out of the door.

I scanned the horizon for any sign of trouble or disturbance, and I found what I sought almost at once. Sooty smoke rose in billows across the plains, and I could see the flickering glow of flames within the curls. The source was too far away to see from my parents’ walk, so I took off at a run toward the smoke. I reached down as I sprinted to ensure I was armed, and, as I drew nearer, I was glad I did.

In the eye of the smoke cloud, there was a ship.