Stopping, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and try to catch my breath.

"You okay?" Delilah asks, stepping out of the way as others continue loading our plundered transport with supplies.

"Yeah," I answer, trying my best not to gasp.

She sets down the pack she's carrying and puts a hand under my chin, pulling until I meet her eyes.

"Are you okay?" she repeats.

I'm still trying to breathe so I just shake my head. Delilah's my best friend, always has my back, and doesn't believe my bullshit. I couldn't ask for anyone better.

"I'll be fine," I say, hands on my knees and heaving for air. "Just, you know, not in the best of shape for this."

"I hear that," she says. "Here, have some water."

I drink from the offered container, grateful. It seems like all the others cast glances in my direction as they continue loading and a knot forms in my gut.

"We should get back to it," I say, pushing upright.

Delilah smiles then picks up her pack and enters the transport. I walk back to the supply room and grab another pack. When I come out, Lana is standing nearby. She's everything I wish I was. Curvy, but not too much, with beautiful auburn hair. Much classier than my own shocking red. She tans too, which must be nice. Curse of being redheaded is I'm fair skinned, which means I'm burnt to a crisp.

Yup, I'm totes jealous.

I wish I could be that hot. I've got the full breasts, but they're too full. I've got the hips for sure, but too much of them. I've got everything she has but just too much of it. Shaking my head, I move past her towards the transport but as I do, I catch her conversation. I don't understand what she's saying, but she's very animated about it.

Lana is the only one who can talk to the aliens. She says they're called Zmaj. What a strange word that is, but what should I expect? They're aliens. All of them are over seven feet tall with broad shoulders and flexing, sexy chests exposed to the sun. They're the natives of this planet. Dragon-men is what us girls are calling them. It's fitting. They each have wings, a long, thick tail and scales. I even saw one of them breathe fire!

One of them, Ragnar, damn he's good looking. Serious hotness there. He's the one Lana is so animatedly talking to. I slow down, not to listen in, just to enjoy the view. He's tall, like they all are, but he has this sandy red hair on his head and the colors of his scales are tan with reddish tones to them. When he moves his arms in response to what Lana is saying his over-sized pecs flex and bounce. I swear you could drown in my panties right now.

It's been a long time since our ship crashed here and even longer since I've scratched that itch. I dated, sure, but nothing serious or for long. Sooner or later I would have married and had kids because that's the way it worked on our generation ship.

"Olivia!" Astrid exclaims as she bumps into me. She's carrying a huge load of supplies, so big that she can't see over it. Guess that's why she ran into me lolly-gagging.

Astrid is tall and really buff. I don't know what her job was on the ship but it had to be something physical. She's like a body-building amazonian goddess or some shit. She's the opposite extreme from Lana and her curves, but they're both hot as shit, and then there's my out of shape ass.

"Sorry," I say, stepping to one side.

"Just hurry up, would you?" she mutters, walking by.

The pack I had picked up is digging into my shoulders and getting rid of it seems like the best idea right now. It hurts enough to force me to tear my gaze away from Ragnar and as I turn, the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Ragnar is staring past Lana at me. My cheeks burn hot, my stomach churns, and my chest constricts.

Did he see me looking at him?

I want to crawl under a rock and hide. There's nowhere to go so I rush ahead and enter the moderate safety of the transport. Being out of the sun is a relief too, so I drop my pack on a rack and take a minute to let my heart rate settle down. How could I have let him see me staring? I know he has to have seen. My luck is the worst.

Penelope walks in carrying a small box. She's thin, too thin really, with blond hair and the most brilliant green eyes.

"You okay?" she asks, seeing me standing around trying to hide.

"Yeah," I say, feeling even worse that this is the second time in a row someone has felt the need to see if I'm okay. "Just catching my breath."

"Okay," Penelope says, turning and walking out again.

I can't stay here, I have to pull my weight. Though it's not like I asked for this. Well, on that note none of us did. None of it at all. First, we were attacked by space pirates, then we crash landed on this inhospitable, hot as fuck desert planet. Then the pirates that crashed our ship captured Delilah and I while we were gathering wood at a nearby oasis.

As if life wasn't hard enough already, adding space pirate dicks was just unnecessary. They're ugly bastards and scary too. Being captured turned out okay because they'd captured Lana and another Zmaj, Astarot, first which opened up a whole new world. Lana isn't from our part of the shipwreck. She was in a different section of the ship when it crashed into the atmosphere and broke apart. There are more survivors than we knew about. Great, that's be awesome news if they weren't somewhere so far away. Lana says her people are living in the ruins of a city.

Then there's Astarot. When Delilah and I first saw him; seven feet tall, scales, wings, tail and all I don't think we were unjustified in being worried he wanted to eat us. He looks like a freaking dragon, what else were we supposed to think? Lucky us, he didn't want to eat us. Though he might want something else, but then, I could only wish, huh? It turns out our races are… compatible. It didn't take long to see that Astarot and Lana were an item, and a hot one at that.

I've made it back to the staging cavern where all the supplies wait to be loaded.

"Can you carry that one?" Bailey asks, pointing to a pack that looks like it might weigh as much as I do.

"Maybe?" I answer.

Bend at the knees, use your back.

Grabbing it I heft, pull, then strain and get it off the ground. The pack has two handles to hold and I can only take baby steps. My back is screaming at me for putting this much pressure on it. Why the hell did Bailey ask me to carry this instead of Astrid! My arms shake with effort. I'm pushing through on willpower alone, making my way out of the room into the valley and up the slope out, one step at a time.

Think about something else. Push aside the pain, ignore the muscles trembling.

Astarot fighting.

Mmmm, yeah that's nice. Damn those Zmaj are sexy beasts!

He and Lana led the way after our escape from the pirates that captured us. Watching him fight was exciting, an explosive display of skill and strength. After we escaped, though, we were wandering the red desert wastes of rolling dunes and rocky outcroppings. I don't think anyone knew which way to go.

Then we met Ragnar. Astarot doesn't hold a candle to Ragnar's shimmering, roped muscled perfection.

My knees shake as I struggle to pull the pack up higher on my back. Focus. Pull, good. One step, now another. Sweat is pouring into my eyes. Blinking to clear my blurry vision, the weight lifts away.

Ragnar is towering over me, looking down as he shakes his head. He's holding the pack out to the side, one-handed like it's nothing. He says something that sounds like a long string of S's.

"What?" I ask, placing my hand on my hip.

He shakes his head, says something else in Zmaj that sounds like more hissing.

"I can handle it!" I say, my voice cracking.

My skin is burning and not just from the sun, people have stopped what they're doing to stare at us. Great, just what I wanted. Ragnar moves the pack up and down, still holding it one handed, and it looks like he's hefting its weight to show off how strong he is.

"Fine!" I yell, turning my back on him.

Staring straight ahead I march down to the room where the rest of the supplies are, ignoring the stares and whispers. I look like an idiot. Of course he's stronger than I am! Ragnar's what, three or four times my size? The way the muscles rippled under the scales of his chest was just… NO! I'm not thinking about that. He embarrassed me.

Stepping into the cool room, I stop and take a moment to breathe. I handled that so damn wrong. It took me by surprise and I already feel like I'm barely pulling my weight. I'm not as fit as everyone else, obviously. I'm an analyst, but how the fuck does that help me on this desert hell? Answer, it doesn't. There's no use for someone who's main skill was sitting in a cubicle and studying patterns in numbers.

Tears well up in my eyes and I can't help myself. Footsteps are approaching and damn it, I don't want anyone to see me crying. Wiping at my eyes I inhale deeply. I can do this. I'm strong enough, good enough, nothing can stop me unless I let it. One more breath and a final wipe at my eyes then I walk into the room where Bailey is waiting.

"Make it?" she asks.

"Yeah," I answer, leaving out Ragnar's help.

"Damn, you're impressive. I figured we'd need at least two people to haul that."

Fuck my life, now she tells me! She's not looking up from her work though so I try to let it go. Two people and I was carrying it by myself. No wonder it was so damn hard. It wasn't for Ragnar though, he held it one handed like it was nothing. The muscles of his arms flexing as they curled, bulging and so strong, how good would they feel wrapped around me?

No, no, no, I think, shaking my head.

"What else needs to go?" I ask, looking around the nearly empty space.

"That's it, I don't think we can fit any more on the transport anyway," she says.

"Okay," I say. "Good. I can't wait to get back home."

Home. When did I start thinking of the wreckage of our ship as home?

"Me too," Bailey says. "They're going to flip when we bring back the Zmaj, aren't they?"

"I don't know what to expect."

Bailey puts an arm over my shoulders and gives me a motherly hug then we walk out into the valley. The activity is dying down and most everyone has gathered in the center of the box formed by the crevasse walls. Lana is standing by the way out, she and Astarot are talking to the Commander.

The Commander is the leader of the Zmaj who live in this valley, which is apparently a strange thing to Astarot. Lana gave us the down and dirty in brief. The planet used to have technology but then there was some intergalactic war they call the devastation. It killed almost all the Zmaj, leaving only a handful of males who went off to be alone and wait to die.

The war was over control of the supply of a plant called epis. It only grows here and has all kinds of properties that make it covetable. All I know is that it makes the heat not suck so bad, so I take it, like all the other humans. The only downside is it's really addictive, like die if you stop taking it addictive. It means leaving Tajss is impossible, we'll never get rescued by Earth.

Besides, what do we know of Earth now? All I know about it is what I've read in books and seen in the entertainment vid library the ship used to have. Thinking of that…. Dragon-men. Hmm, Game of Thrones much? Oh what I wouldn't give to be Daenerys riding my dragon…

No! I yell at myself, tearing my eyes off Ragnar who's walking towards me. Oh, damn it, he's coming.

Ragnar stops in front of me and my breath catches in my chest. The way the sunlight glints off of the scales of his massive, muscled chest is just too much. Craning my neck so I can look up at him, his thin, beautiful lips curve into what must be a smile. He says something and damn I don't care what it means my knees are weak.

He motions with his hands, trying to communicate, but I don't care what he's saying. I'm basking in the sexy he exudes and the steely blue brilliance of his eyes. His mouth moves, more sounds, then his wings rustle and I blink fast, trying to focus.

"He wants to know if you're okay?" Lana asks, coming up from somewhere.

"Huh?" Smart reply Olivia, good thinking, I berate myself.

"He's asking if you're okay," Lana repeats.

Shaking my head to clear it I turn and look at her, then back at Ragnar. Swallowing hard, I nod then smile. Lana says something to Ragnar. Stabbing, acidic jealousy burns in my stomach. What I wouldn't give to talk to him! I want to know what he's saying too. He says something then they're talking back and forth. The Zmaj tongue is fast and filled with soft sounds and hisses. It seems much faster than Common.

"Good," Lana says, looking back. "He's glad you weren't hurt."

"Hurt?" I ask. "Doing what?"

"When he came to help you, he thought you were doing too much?" She tilts her head, looking unsure of her words.

"Too much?" I say, my cheeks burning hot.

"It doesn't translate well," she says.

"Well I'm fine," I say. "I had it, but thank him for his help anyway."

Lana purses her lips then nods and speaks to Ragnar. He holds up his hands then walks away.

Light-headiness rushes over me watching him leave. His tail shifts side to side. Thick, long, and filling my head with wondering what the rest of him might look like. The distraction is too much.

"Are you okay?" Lana asks, cutting through my daydreams.

"Yeah," I say, exhaling heavily.

"They can do that," she smiles.

"What?" Uhuh, still brilliant.

Lana turns her gaze towards Ragnar's retreating form, then back. My heart thumps hard in my chest as heat floods my cheeks.

"Oh, uh, no, yeah, uhm," I stutter.

Lana doesn't laugh. She hugs me, just like her mom did, then I'm left standing here with only my sense of embarrassment.

The Zmaj are moving so I head over to the group of women standing by the entrance to the valley. It's a nice place, if you like to rough it. Who am I to judge? We live in the wreckage of our ship. The valley walls have caves cut into the stone which lead into a network of rooms. Awnings that used to stand outside some of the entrances where the craftsmen worked are down and packed.

The pirates found us here and while we fought them off and took their transport vehicle, there's no doubt they'll be back. Lana says the Zmaj know them well and that they're slavers. They capture and sell people. That would have happened to Delilah and me if Astarot and Lana hadn't been on the same transport.

Since the pirates know this place exists now, it's only a matter of time before they come back. It was a debate but Astarot and Lana have talked the Zmaj here into moving to their home. A city, they say. I find it hard to believe there's a city on this sandy ball of hell, but we'll see.

The other survivors from her section of the ship are there and more Zmaj.

On our way there we'll stop by my home. The question then is do I go on with them to the new city or stay with my friends? The city sounds nice. She says they have a dome working that keeps the sandstorms out and the wandering monsters too. Buildings, actual honest-to-goodness buildings. I'm a little sick of caves and tilted wreckages.

The Commander taps his staff on the stone and everyone falls silent. He speaks, then we all turn and walk out of the valley. I notice several of the Zmaj glance over their shoulders with what looks like regret. I get how hard it is to lose your home.

We pack like sardines onto the transport along with the supplies.

It's a box like contraption with a ramp on one side. Inside are three sections. The front which has room for two, maybe three people, connected by a small hallway to the center area which has a door that leads to another open area with shelves for supplies. We're packed in so tight that there's no sitting or moving around. I'm squashed up against a wall, my breasts smashed to the point of being uncomfortable. It smells of sweat, dirt, and sand. Somehow, my bad or good luck I'm not sure, Ragnar is standing up against my backside.

The machine hums to life, rising, which causes all of us to jostle. Ragnar's mammoth thigh and knee press into my ass as the vehicle shifts side to side. I think nothing of it at first, but it remains firmly crushed against my backside once the transport's motion has settled. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes meet his and the analyzing part of my mind clicks, figuring out our positions relative to each other and what part of him is actually thrust against my rear.

My eyes widen, my mouth drops open, and I gasp. Surely it's not…

The transport rocks side to side and again the thickness mashes against the globes of my butt.

I'm certain now, he's aroused.

That massive firmness I mistook for his thigh is his cock! How big is it?

Maybe Zmaj males don't work like human men. Are they aroused all the time? It can't be because of me.

He's still staring though, making my skin grow warm.

The transport bounces with violence and everyone staggers. My knees buckle and I'd fall but there's not enough room to, I'm held up by the press of bodies. It drives Ragnar's immense hard-on deeper into my cheeks. My own lady-boner is raging and if I was alone I wouldn't hesitate to rub one out. In this situation there's nothing I can do.

By the time the transport slows, I can barely think. My clit aches and I'm considering throwing myself onto Ragnar the moment I can turn around. The vehicle drops, settling back to the ground, and everyone in the cargo area sighs with relief. We've been in here for hours, crammed up against each other with just enough room to breathe if you don't inhale too deeply.

Light appears along the side opposite of me as the ramp rumbles to life and lowers. The double red suns strike through the opening like a spear. Dots swirl before my eyes as they struggle to adjust from near blackness to blinding light. I can't see, but someone gasps, then I'm being pushed and pulled along as the crowd rushes out.

"NO!" someone is screaming.

My eyes are watering, still struggling to adjust. Something smells off, gross and disgusting that makes me regret leaving behind the sweat and dirt odor of the transport. My stomach clenches in a violent spasm. The spinning dots clear from my eyes and then the odors make sense. Soot and burnt meat. It can't be….

My home lies before me in ruin, its defensive walls shattered. The refuge we'd built from salvaged material, the workstations, the tables, everything is overturned, destroyed. Debris litters the landscape. Smoke pours out of the wreckage of the ship itself, carrying with it that stench.

Tears flow down my face, my throat clenches tight. They're gone. No one is here. All my friends, gone.

I stumble forward in a daze, full of dread.

There are so many grayish lumps all around, my mind rejects the impossibility of what they are. I can't stand any longer, my knees buckle and I fall. My hands shake as I stare at the horrifying, charred balls. A hot wind blows my streaming tears onto the sand with a soft sizzle. A piece of cloth shifts in the breeze, dislodging a blackened hunk that rolls towards me.

It's cold when I touch it.

"OH!" I scream, falling backwards, then I'm scrambling away.

It can't be, no, this isn't happening.

It's a nightmare.

People are screaming and crying all around as I crawl back into something rigid and unmoving.

I look up into Ragnar's deep blue eyes.

Hand shaking, I point at the lump. "It's a skull," I say, my chest heaving with sobs. "They're all… someone mur-"

I can't say the words. The words will make it real and this can't be.

Ragnar kneels and enfolds me in a protective embrace and I break down.