Chapter Twenty-Two
Roxie -- Three Months Later...
I make my way down to the hangar to greet our finished ship -- our new home for the foreseeable future, maybe even the rest of our lives together.
I look up at Vyken, the solid silhouette of his masculine face, and I can’t help but smile. I swear, I’ve been smiling so much for months that my face constantly aches a little. Our lives together. That rings in my head -- and it makes me so happy to even try to comprehend it.
I was all about choice. That was my thing. But just one second was all it took for my life to get twisted around and all choice to be taken from me when I was abducted by my alien.
It turned out that second of a loss of control was the only thing I needed. Now I have everything.
Not only am I mated with one of the most fearsome, sexy, well-hung, gorgeous warriors in the known universe, but we’re a part of a team to recruit allies for the upcoming war we’re taking to the Suhlik, before the Suhlik can take the war to Paxia.
At first I had no idea what I was going to do to contribute. We met the crew recently, and they’re all the best fighters in the solar system, if not the galaxy. The Mahdfel are already one of the strongest, fastest, most intimidating species, but these guys are truly something else. I had no idea why they needed me on board other than that Vyken needed me, and I needed him.
But then Rsharr decided to join, and he (not literally -- this time) sang my praises out of nowhere. It surprised me so much that I almost cried. He told the crew about how I managed to communicate with the Ferathorns even when they spoke their primal language. How I managed to talk them into awakening seconds earlier than they would have without my encouragement … meaning Vyken might actually have died without me.
He referred to me as a communicator. A bridge between the gruff, burly, generally unempathetic, unthinking Mahdfel and the rest of the universe. Because, actually, the stories that are to come aren’t going to be about battling. If songs are sung about our crew, they’ll be about treaties. Agreements. Compromise and getting along.
We’re finding allies, not skewering foes.
And I’ve gone my whole life blending in to new places, new cultures, with new people.
As well as the six Mahdfel warriors, some of whom honestly look a little frightening, we have Rsharr, of course. He is tapped in to the secrets of the last thirty-thousand years of the universe, bound to the knowledge of the Oracle, so he’s surely going to come in handy. He is also very well-respected, which won’t hurt when it comes to begging for help.
Then there’s a funny little creature of a species called the Merrel, which I hadn’t heard of. His name is Harrison and he doesn’t seem to have any life skills at all, but he’s actually got more engineering know-how than three human experts combined. His help will not go amiss.
In fact, he found something I smuggled onto the ship in secret. Fascinated by the Suhlik technology, Rsharr and I thought that the attackbot might uncover some secrets so we scooped up its dead metal body -- checked for tracking -- and took it back to Wrax. Harrison reprogrammed it, and now we have a metal companion for our journey too. And in fixing the bot up, the Merrel gained some insight into how much the Suhlik know about tech.
Turns out it’s a lot.
But I’m not scared. I’m excited. The whole universe is out there and I’m going to see as much of it as I possibly can.
“Here it is.” Wrax has met us all here and gestures to the far end of the hangar to a shining spaceship. Immediately I feel a tug in my chest -- it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and I don’t normally get attached to machinery…
It already looks like home, and that’s a great sign.
It’s fairly small, looks agile but sturdy and armored where it needs to be. It looks almost like the Spitfire, but every part of it is newer, fancier.
“You must name it, Vyken,” Wrax said. “We have been calling it Spitfire II.”
“What about the FMS Avenger,” one of the Mahdfel crew, a young, fit warrior called Riven asks, clearly excited.
“Ridiculous,” another warrior, a darker-skinned shady, grumpy-looking Mahdfel snaps. “Spitfire II works fine.”
“It’s not very personal to us, though, is it?” I say, folding my arms. “We’re travelling around, going from place to place and sucking up to people.”
“We’ll have to take other jobs to afford fuel,” another says, folding his burly arms. “We won’t return to Paxia; we’ll have no home. Drifter?”
“Something almost misleading,” Vyken argues. “The Drifter is a vessel that gets boarded on a whim. We need something that inspires awe; the kind of vessel tales are told about.”
“The Marauder,” I suggest. “No FMS -- no Firosan military connotations. We’ll be staying under everyone’s radar, taking on odd jobs as he said. We have one of the most powerful spacecrafts currently active in the universe. Nothing fancy. Just Marauder.”
“The Firosan Marauders,” Vyken repeats. Nobody argues, which I take as a win, but they look at each other and then to their captain for a final verdict. “Let’s waste no time. Say goodbye to your loved ones, men.”
That appears to be that on the name, then. I’m sure I could have come up with something better if I knew that was going to be the end of it, but I’m pretty excited I got to name a spaceship.
“We have no loved ones,” the Mahdfel laugh. “And we never will. We are giving up our chances for happiness to this cause.”
“Are you happy about that?” Wrax interrupts, walking back over from the ship. The Mahdfel who spoke jumps at being addressed by his king, and swivels around.
“Well … I was looking forward to meeting my bride, of course, my king, but--”
“Then it’s settled. We will have our engineers install a teleportation pod on board the ship.”
“Wrax, but--”
The king silences him with a look. “I will not deny my men the chance to mate. That is not the kind of king I am. This mission is the longest thing you will ever do, but it is not the most perilous. The craft has room on board for twenty families, let alone seven. I won’t have my men go mad with boredom, with loneliness, or with resentment. It was a plan I had from the beginning, but I was unsure until now. Of course you are entitled to your mates.”
The Mahdfel all blink over at him after that speech, and I look at Vyken quizzically. When the king excuses himself with a nod, they all begin to speak rapidly and excitedly.
“Well,” Vyken says, interrupting, and they all cease to turn to look at him. It makes me feel proud, to feel all the respect present in this gigantic hangar. “Make sure you all sign up for the Lottery, men. It looks like the Marauder just became a family vessel.” He beams over at me and I feel my chest flutter and my head feel light.
It’s been doing that a lot lately.
“We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.” He dismisses his crew and we walk back to the hovercab together. I should be nervous but I’m not -- I just really can’t wait to leave and get started on saving his planet and teaching his enemies a lesson. They are also the aliens who tried to destroy Earth, ruining plenty of lives in the meantime.
“Having a mate by their side will only make them stronger,” he says to me thoughtfully as we get back to his apartment. I kiss him on the back of his hand and smile up at him, grateful for the sweet compliment but also knowing he believes that with all his heart.
“You think I make you stronger?” I ask, teasingly.
“Without a doubt.”
I look him in the eye and pull off my shirt.
“I … um … w--”
With a laugh I step to him and press my palm against the already growing bulge, and I reach up to kiss him. Hungrily, passionately, he kisses me back. “In general, I meant,” he says softly.
“Mm,” I agree, pulling at his clothes. “I just wanted an excuse to turn you on.”
“You don’t need a reason,” he says, and with a tug my bra is off and then so is everything else, and we’re on the couch with my legs wrapped around his waist. “I love you.”
“I love you,” I say, and groan as his cock presses against me and his lips touch my neck. “I’m so happy.” And I mean it with all my heart.
I know that if I had a choice, I wouldn’t have my life any other way.