Stella awoke from a dream of swinging a sword above her head to conquer a vanquished foe with a start. For a moment, she thought that she was back in her tiny apartment, the neon sign from the all-night convenience store that took up the bottom floor of her building lighting up city block. Until she remembered the sign below was blue, not green, and she sat up wide-eyed. She was in North Dakota, and the closest human habitation was fifteen miles away. Unless the pig farm she’d passed on the way in had gotten much closer and put up neon green lights, there was something very strange going on.

Granted, the pig farm pulling up roots and decking itself out in green lights would be very strange and slightly terrifying, she acknowledged, slipping off the couch and reaching for her shoes. She had fallen asleep fully dressed with her kindle spread over her face. She tossed her kindle on the side table so she didn’t accidently sit on it and pulled on her boots. There was a tiny bit of heel to them, which gave her unimposing 5'6 height a little bit of dignity and authority, she thought. She tied her shoulder-length black hair up carelessly in a messy bun, and without thinking twice, ventured outside.

The sky to the north was lit up neon green, and at first, Stella thought she was looking at the Northern Lights. That was ridiculous. Aurora borealis didn't come this far south this time of year.

The Northern Lights didn't talk and shout, either.

What the hell is going on? Before she could think better of it, her legs were heading towards the noise. She hadn’t gone very far at all when the voices resolved themselves into some sort of language that she was certain she had never heard before. Maybe a cross between Slavic, Greek and Pygmy? She came closer still, completely puzzled as to what in the world had invaded her solitude. On her drive in, she had taken note of the fact that the woods in front of her had thinned near a clearing. Green lights came from what looked like emergency stadium lighting, hoisted high on poles to illuminate...

The ship caught her eye first.

It was a space ship. It had to be. It stretched out half a football field's length, its curves as elegant as a Mercedes. Thrusters pointed towards the ground that would let it escape velocity, propelling it high into the sky, and battered guns ranged along the forward bow and the rear thrusters.

It had perhaps seen better days, but it was, without a doubt, a space ship, and Stella's heart clenched tightly with joy and amazement.

Then she looked at the people who were scurrying back and forth under the green stadium lighting, and she had to clamp a hand over her mouth in surprise. Some walked on two legs just like humans did, while others scuttled low to the ground, tools held high. There was one figure that seemed to have arms stretching out from a central radius of their otherwise human body, and something lithe and the size of a twelve-year-old leaped up to one of the thrusters.

Aliens. What do I do? Call the authorities? Go down and make first contact? Oh, my god, this is really happening...

Her favorite book heroines had always handled moments like this with decisiveness and aplomb, doing the perfect thing to both comfort distant travelers and to assert themselves. Now that the time had come for her to follow in their footsteps, however, she was at a total loss.

A few more seconds of contemplation and she was seized suddenly from behind and lifted high into the air.

* * *

It's a beautiful planet, Zan marveled, stepping onto the soft grass, but it does feel a little cramped.

He couldn't quite explain it. He could see right away why Ferex and Terra were known as sister planets. The air was perfectly compatible with his physiology and with that of most of the crew, though the Albarian siblings had to wear the methane-breathers they used on most planets. The sky was clear enough to see a craze of stars above, and he knew from the handheld that a short hop would take him to an enormous reservoir of fresh water.

It still wasn't home, however, but it was close enough that in that moment, he missed Ferex intensely. He hadn't been back for so long, and that only strengthened his resolve. He would return for the Feast of Falling Stars, and when he did...

He shook off the thought because there were more important things to do than fantasize about seeking one’s rightful retribution. He ordered his crew to get to the repair jobs, and he took some of his steadier soldiers off to secure the perimeter. If he were honest with himself, he’d have to admit that he wanted to see this world a little, see what it had to offer.

He sensed her before he saw her. The feeling was instant and as strong as though he’d been plugged into a power cable. Energy surged through him, pure and white hot. For a moment, bathed in the overwhelming sensation, he wondered what the hell had happened, and then his body told him.

A female...

Zan was so scrambled that he thought a Ferexian woman had somehow appeared on Terra. His kind could sense each other, to a certain extent, and after living so long among alien species, the connection felt like a high keening note that refused no to be heard. His senses were probably very sharp, given that he didn't see his own kind so very often.

He sent the rest of his crew back with a growl, and he pushed into the darkness. When he found the source of his undoing, a raw hunger overtook him.

She had been crouching in the woods like a small scavenger, hunched over, reminding him of one of the rodents on the far planet Azaria, watching the ship's repair. He could have spied from the shadows for hours, but his instincts forced his hand. She was a female, unclaimed, unprotected, and though he was meant to the upra of Clan Mordra, he had been a raider far longer than he had been a ruler.

He seized her up in his arms, and her shocked cry caused a stirring in his loins. Zan marveled at how small she was, almost two full heads shorter than he, but how similar as well. Her hands flailing in front of them looked like far more delicate versions of his own, and the sounds she made, though less words than shouts of surprise, came from a throat he knew could shape his language.

In that moment, carrying his prize in his arms, Zan wanted nothing more than to bear her to the earth and to bury himself into her womanhood claiming her as his female.

Fortunately, sense reasserted itself, and he heard her shocked cries.

“What the hell are you doing? Hey, get your hands of me, buddy! What do you think I am a throw toy?”

“I certainly do not think you are a toy to throw.” He really had no idea what would make her say such nonsense. When she stared at his lips, it was obvious right away that she couldn't understand his language. Instead, she shouted louder.

He responded by tossing her over his shoulder and striding back to the lights. The Terran woman kicked and shouted all the while. Ancestors, but she was light and small. He had been a size bigger than her when he was barely eight planetary revolutions. As he brought her closer to the light, he swung her off his shoulder and cradled her in his arms so that he could study her visage. Her face was heart-shaped and delicate, her eyes a large and luminous hazel green. When her lips parted, he saw how full they were, and the natural instincts of an upra to defend, protect and claim his female, so long dormant in the raider, at last arose in him.

The powerful tide of exhilaration that rolled over Zan was indescribable and, as he entered the clearing, threw back his head and released a long and loud howl of victory.

* * *

The first thing that Stella thought when she saw her captor was that he was gorgeous, and not just in a hard, masculine way, although he was that. His skin was smooth and hairless and a lovely shade of purple. Whoa. Stella gasped, and for a moment, instead of fighting her captor, she clung to him.

In short order, they were surrounded by a ring of aliens that dazzled her with their strangeness, their very foreign nature. Did that one have black and white fur? Did that pair have on breathing apparatuses? Was that one actually two, just wrapped together by loose root-like tendrils?

Okay, okay, let's just stay calm. It wasn't the first contact she’d always dreamed about in my head, but...

The purple alien man who held her roared something to her that sounded like a sibilant hiss, and the alien covered with black and white hair scuttled forward, moving far faster than Stella thought it could. It's many jointed hand held up something that looked like a cross between a tattoo artist's gun and a tablet, and it handed the device to the man who was holding her. The man shifted her to one arm as if she were a troublesome infant, and before she could protest, he slung her so that he had clear access to the back of her neck.

“Hey! What the hell!”

There was a soft thwock sound, and a feeling not unlike a pinch at her nape. Stella yelped more out of surprise than pain, and her free hand, the one not hanging onto the alien dude for dear life, flew to the offended area. There was a slight warmth there, and for a single horrified moment, she could feel a lump under her skin before it disappeared.

“What was that? What the hell did you do to me?” she shouted.

The alien holding her turned her around and set her gently on the ground, and she pushed away from him so hard she stumbled. There were a ring of curious aliens watching her, and for a moment, she could barely catch her breath. It would be too easy to imagine herself at a theme park with exceptional animatronics coming to surround her, if the things didn’t move so fluidly.

“Stay back,” she warned. “I... I'm really not someone you want to mess with.”

“I assure you we have no desire to mess you,” rumbled the large purple dude who had carried her from her hiding place.

“You speak English!” she squeaked. “I mean...does this mean that you've been to Earth before? Are you... are your people from Earth? Oh my gosh, I have so many questions!”

“She talks like a little bird,” grunted one of the tall figures with what looked like a breathing apparatus surrounding a hole where a mouth and nose would be on a human. Its voice came out with a radio static-like hiss from a speaker located on its chest. “Are you sure you want to claim this one, commander.”

To her surprise, the alien who had grabbed her, the commander, stood up straighter. The air seemed to grow heavy with some kind of static electricity, the space around all of them a little smaller and more threatening.

“Do you think you have a claiming right, Oroch?”

The alien with the breathing tubes took two hasty steps back, shaking its head submissively. Stella absently noticed how some body language was apparently universal. Honestly, she was simply surprised that her mind could grasp at anything. With so much adrenaline pumping through her system, she was on the verge of a complete meltdown.

“Good,” the big purple guy growled before turning his gaze to Stella. Something about the way he looked at her sent a bolt of warmth through her, she began to nervously fidget with her hands. Until she reminded herself that she was the sole representative of Earth, at which time she lifted her chin proudly instead. It probably would have been a little more imposing if she didn't have leaves in her hair and dirt and grass stains on her knees, but she had to work with what she had.

“What is your name?” the purple guy asked, his voice brusque. Even if it was hard enough to sharpen knives on, she could sense that there was something underneath it, something that seemed to pulse in time with the warmth in her. Had whatever it was they implanted in her caused that warmth to happen?

“First, I want you to tell me exactly what you did to me,” she said, her voice firm and mostly steady. “What did you do to my neck?”

The crew fell back warily, and the big guy looked down at her from his vast height, eyes narrowed. There was a tension in the air until, at last, a smile curved his lips into something shockingly sensual. She was still trying to figure out how she could be so attracted to someone who was not even the same species when he responded.

“What I did to you is nothing in comparison to what I would like to do to you,” he said in almost a whisper, his voice was soft and drawling. “But that was just a language implant that we gave you. We're all speaking our own languages, and the chip allows us to understand each other. I trust it’s working well.”

Stella’s breath caught in her throat as she momentarily marveled at the technology. “Oh, yeah…yes, it's working well.”

She began to feel a little light headed. Aliens were real. They had technology that might as well have been a magic wand to her, and they were all wonderfully, beautifully unique. She tore her eyes away from the big guy, because she could not hold his gaze without getting all hit and bothered. Instead, she found herself looking down at a smaller figure, mottled in black and white with mottled fingers.

“So, you can understand me?” Stella asked, and the small figure hopped up and down.

“Oh I can! Isn't it splendid? I still remember when I received my first chip. The world seemed to open up right then and there in front of me.”

“First chip? There are more?”

“So many! Some provide written words floating above for those who do not use sound waves to communicate. Others take in information from the surrounding world and give summary reports.”

“That sounds amazing. Overwhelming, but amazing.” Stella was still processing that new information when the commander cleared his throat.

“Terani will now escort you aboard. If you wish to see the heart of the ship, the power that allows us to leap between galaxies, I'm certain that Terani will take you there. She's headed that way anyway to secure the engine.”

For some reason, the black and white alien—Terani?—looked surprised, but she bobbed up and down after a moment.

“Do come with me. It's beautiful, and if you've never seen one before...”

Stella stepped towards Terani, but then she turned back towards the big purple guy, hesitating. He tilted his head at her, and she bit her lip.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I've never seen anything like you and your crew before. It's all... all so astounding. I’m honored, and I'm just a no one from St. Paul...”

He looked startled by her words, and then to her surprise, he took her hand. He was unexpectedly warm, and he smiled at her.

“What are you called?” he asked, his voice a velvet rumble.

“I... I'm Stella. Stella Courtland. Um. Just Stella is fine.”

He smiled as if he were charmed at her stuttering delivery.

“Stella. Like the stars. I am Commander Zan of the Righel. You are safe aboard my vessel, this I vow.”

She started to thank him, but to her surprise, he swept down low to place his lips upon her hand. This was no courtly peck, however. Instead he turned her hand so that her palm faced upward, and the soft warmth of his lips sent a tingle into the very core of her. It shocked her so much that she jerked her hand away from his, looking up at him with wide, hazel green eyes.

“Um... I'll just head out with Terani now,” she said softly, and he smiled. What did he have to look so triumphant over anyway?

“Good. Go with Terani. I am sure that we will talk later.”

She might have been more suspicious, asked a few more questions, considered her safety, but Terani took her by the hand and tugged her excitedly towards the ship. It was too much of an honor to be worried as she took her first step onto an alien ship.

* * *

Zan had to remind himself to breathe as he watched the Terran woman board his ship, and even then it took him a moment of effort.

Ancestors, why had no one ever mentioned that Terran women were so dainty and attractive. The women of his kind were slighter than the males, but just as tall and lean-muscled, slender swords to the heavy bludgeons of their male counterparts. This woman was positively tiny and looked so soft.

Still though, if there had been any doubts in his mind as to whether the old myths were true, his howl had laid them to rest. The places where she had touched him and where she had rested against him still tingled, as if his body remembered her and still craved her.

An upra-sa, he thought, his mind still reeling. He thought of her hair, as black as the abyssal night, and her eyes as green as the lights that danced in the skies of his childhood.

He realized that his crew was still staring at him, but a low snarl hurried them back to their duty. They had worked fast for the past ten hours, and he reminded himself that bonuses were due all around. They had served him well and faithfully in their bloody line of work, and soon he would part ways from them forever.

“Get ready to lift off,” he ordered curtly. “I want to be in interstellar space in two hours.”