by Lula Monk
Ignis shouted, a mighty war cry clawing its way up his throat.
Five…
Four…
And suddenly Ignis’s flesh was burning, his human form halting and dropping to its knees. His sword clattered against the stone of the floor. He braced himself on his hands, his palms slipping in something…
Water.
The fluid burned his flesh, his eyes, searing his scalp and the exposed skin of his chest and back. His flames fizzled out, expiring in a great cloud of steam.
Ignis struggled for breath. He peered up through the haze of the damp hair cascading over his eyes. The bastard princeling before him smirked, his thick and charred arms crossed over his chest.
Ignis fell forward, his cheek landing in a puddle of the infernal burning liquid. His eyes fluttered, his ears filling with the sound of never-ending droplets of water.
But something else was there too, the sound of many skittering feet invading his mind with their insistent and rapid tapping.
Something kicked Ignis over onto the flat of his back, sending the treacherous water to slide over his chest once more, leaving his back soaking in the moisture. His flesh felt raw and exposed, the nerves below the surface alight with a pain as cold and chilling as ice.
Chief Officer Slep leaned over him, blocking the flow of water with his great scaled back and spiny shoulders. His mandibles clicked angrily. “I told you I would have no altercations aboard my station!”
“He…” Ignis struggled to speak. “He… killed her…”
Slep trilled. “I do not care!”
Ignis summoned all his strength. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to rise to his knees. He stared past the insectoid at the arrogant and sneering Smold prince.
“I will kill you,” he vowed.
Cyndar laughed, the sound dry and hollow. “I think if one were to keep score, one would find that I have a rather decent record of killing your family. You cannot say the same.”
Ignis’s mind faltered. The bastard’s words made no sense. Cyndar had slain Gylenda, but there were no more among the royal house of Incenda who had fallen to a Smold.
Ignis spit at Cyndar’s feet, an action that would perplex him later. “Your words are wind, baca. Gylenda was my world, but she was not the entirety of my family.”
Cyndar smiled gleefully. He reached up a hand to tug at that ridiculous beard. “You have no idea, do you?”
Chief Officer Slep whirled on the Smold prince, his abdomen vibrating. “Speak not of these things! You have yet to make a purchase; you are no patron of mine. If you say one more word to the Ardan, I will ban you from the Hub. Indefinitely.”
Cyndar chuckled. “As luck would have it, my men and I have just come from the Entertainment Sector, where we paid top credits for some… quality one-on-one time with a few of your products.”
Slep’s spiked shoulders slumped.
“So,” continued Cyndar, “that would make me and my retinue patrons of this… fine establishment.”
The insectoid’s abdomen was vibrating so quickly now, the sound that issue forth from it was nothing less than a hum. He turned on Ignis instead.
“You will contain yourself, Commander. I value your patronage, but this is the third incident in two rotations that have resulted in the necessity of my interference. If it happens again, I will be forced to take measures against your account.”
Ignis was on the threshold of darkness, his mind only half-absorbing all that he saw and heard. But Slep’s words pierced the veil of fog that shrouded his mind, the insectoid’s words not sounding threatening in the slightest.
He leaned past Slep, his heavy-lidded eyes boring into Cyndar’s. “I will kill you.”
And then he fell forward onto his face, and all the world was black.
Chapter 11
Clea
A knocking sound rang out on the portal wall. Clea had just stepped out of the shower, her skin still stinging form the intense temperature of the water.
The banging sound came again, this time louder and more urgent.
Clea slung on her dirty pajamas and ran on slippery feet to the wall. But when she got there, she was unable to do anything other than stare. She couldn’t open the portal.
Only Ignis could do that.
And since the portal wasn’t just opening right up, the creature on the other side wasn’t her fire alien.
The banging came again, this time a consistent and pervasive sound that echoed out into the room, repeating and caving in on itself again and again and again.
Clea eased away from the wall, frightened. Not knowing who or what was on the other side of that wall was a level of suspense her tired and fatigued body could not even begin to handle right now. Surprisingly, she found herself longing that Ignis was in the room with her.
Remembering her situation, she squared her shoulders and pushed all thoughts of the fire alien from her mind. She didn’t need him, and she sure as hell didn’t want him.
Finally, the sound stopped.
Not two heartbeats later, the portal appeared. A giant scorpion-looking alien skittered in. Or maybe it was more ant-like than scorpion. Either way, it was fucking huge and coming straight towards her.
Clea screamed, her hands raised defensively before her face. All her months and months of Hapkido training went flying from her brain. How would she even use such moves against a ten-foot-tall insect? Did the thing even have a center of gravity?
Who the fuck cares? her mind screamed at her. Just run!
And she tried.
Slinging herself forward, she fell to her knees, momentum and the small puddle of water she’d made when running to the portal wall working in tandem to carry her sliding under the insectoid’s claws and gliding towards the portal.
She hastily rose to her feet, slipping as she tried to right herself. She leapt into the hallway, only to be caught midflight by a pair of slimy, thick tentacles. Her entire body sagged, so overdone was her mind and emotions in that moment. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried to get the hell away from all these freaks, nothing ever worked.
Her body went limp, all the fight fleeing from her, flowing out of her body like water from a cup. When the Cephalopod guard released her, she slid onto the floor in a heap.
“Go get Bright One’s breeder,” barked the insectoid.
Following its command, one of the guards shuffle-stomped away down the corridor.
“Remain calm,” said the scorpion-ant as it skittered towards Clea once more.
She rose to her feet, retreating backwards until her butt bumped into something. Her eyes were glued to the approaching alien, but her hands drifted out behind her. It was one of the chairs.
She gripped the chair with her hand, bringing it around to shield the front of her body like a lion tamer fending of an approaching great cat.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“The Ardan made a good choice when he chose you,” said the insectoid disgruntledly.
Clea sneered. “I’m my own woman. Ignis does not own me.”
The insectoid tsk-tsked. “I have a wealth of credits from his account that says otherwise.”
Clea thrust the chair forward, intent on slamming the legs of the chair into the insectoid’s sternum.
The giant thing reached down with one of his claws and snapped the chair in half.
Clea gulped, letting the ruined remnants of the chair fall to the floor.
Where the fuck is Ignis?
She shook her head, licking at her dry lips. She did not need Ignis. She didn’t need anyone.
“Fuck you,” she said to the alien suddenly.
Its mandibles clicked together. “You are a persistent Earthling.”
Clea sneered. “And you are a freak.”
The insectoid lifted and dropped its shoulders. “You are entitled to your opinion, but I would have to–”
“You have need of me, Chief Officer?”
Clea tore her
eyes away from the insectoid, her body flooding with relief at seeing the crimson-eyed woman leaning against the portal’s edge.
“Samantha,” she choked out, running for the woman.
Samantha accepted Clea’s embrace, and she tried to ignore the sickening heat radiating off the pregnant woman’s belly.
“Who the fuck is this thing?” Clea hissed, directing her gaze back to the insect looming like a giant in the center of her room.
Ignis’s room, she mentally corrected herself.
She wanted no part of any of this. No ownership of anything on this station to tie her to this fucking nightmare.
To tie her to Ignis.
Samantha released Clea, putting her at an arm’s length. Clea felt the woman’s absence immediately and acutely, missing her warmth as soon as she was gone.
“This is Chief Officer Slep, one of the three owners of Galactic Continuity.”
Clea’s body pivoted. She felt sick.
“Why is it here?” she asked Samantha, refusing to address the insect again.
“I don’t know,” said Samantha, turning her glowing eyes to the insect. “Why are you here, Chief Officer? If something has occurred, how might I be of assistance?”
The insectoid lowered the upper half of its body, each segment sliding down until it stood eye-level with Clea. A chill crept up her spine. Of all the fucked-up shit she’d seen since waking up on the transport vessel, this was somehow the most fucked up.
“I apologize for gaining unauthorized access to your breeding room,” began the insect Samantha had called Slep.
“It’s not mine.”
“I beg your pardon?” said the insectoid
“It’s Ignis’s room, not mine.”
“You are the property of the Ardan. Ergo, this room belongs to his account, making it yours.”
Clea shrugged and looked down at her bare toes.
The creature let out a sound that resembled a sigh. “I merely wanted to inform you that your owner will be away for a small span of time.”
Clea’s eyes darted up to the insectoid’s face. “What happened?”
Why is that your question, dumbass? Why not ask how long the alien and his flames will be gone? Who the fuck cares what happened? Any time Ignis is out of the room is a good time. No Ignis, no mating. No mating, no fiery little Ardan alien baby clawing its way out of your uterus. Or burning itself out.
Her chest squeezed. Good God, if she did mate with Ignis and get pregnant with his offspring, how would she give birth to it?
Not a thought for now.
“The Commander was attempting to start an altercation with the Smold prince.”
Clea’s eyes creased with confusion. “I don’t know who that is.”
Slep shrugged. “It is not your place to know, human female. It is only your place to remain in this room in waiting, until your owner returns.”
Slep scuttled back out into the corridor, Clea and Samantha moving from the portal to give him ample room t.
“How long will he be gone?” asked Samantha.
Clea stared at the pregnant woman out of the corner of her eyes. Look at you, asking the right questions.
“The Commander will return before the next rotation begins.”
The giant insectoid began to skitter away, but Samantha called it back once more. “And may I ask why you called for me, Chief Officer?”
The insectoid clanged its mandibles together, clearly annoyed. “I should think it would be obvious.”
Clea watched the pregnant woman’s face, relieved that Samantha looked no more aware of what the insectoid meant than she did.
Slep trilled. “You will remain here until the Commander returns.”
“But…,” Samantha began, the confusion evident on her face.
Slep raised one meaty claw. His stinger rattled at the end of his tail like a snake’s. “I will inform the Bright One of your whereabouts. This human needs to be looked over. To be guarded. She is too feisty, and we have reason to believe that she might wish to take her own life.”
Clea flinched at the words. She’d not even had the though until this moment. Why the hell did the alien even think that?
Samantha stared ahead, her face a neutral mask of metal once more. “As you require, Chief Officer.”
Pleased with the pregnant woman’s reply, Slep snapped his claws and then retreated down the corridor.
Samantha and Clea watched the Cephalopods lumber away through the open portal in the wall.
The two women glanced at one another.
No way. No way would it be this easy.
No one had sealed the portal to Clea’s ro– to Ignis’s room. It would be so simple, to wait until the coast was clear and steal off down the hallway. Maybe even successfully reach a spaceship. Get off this fucked-up space station.
She gave Samantha a wide-eyed look. Samantha shook her head in warning, but Clea padded over to the portal on silent feet anyway. Just as she was about to poke her head out into the corridor, Chief Officer Slep reappeared on the other side of the portal.
The insectoid lifted his claw to the smooth metal of the wall.
“My apologies, Earth women,” he hissed. “Authority entrances are rare. You will forgive me for not sealing you in your room upon my departure.”
When the portal closed, Clea felt tears prickling at her eyes. She wiped them away quickly. When she turned around to face Samantha, she was surprised to find the pregnant woman glowering at her.
“What the hell is your problem?” Clea asked.
“What is yours?” Samantha said, her voice raising to a screech.
Clea shrank back from the woman’s tone. But only for a moment. Only because this entire fucked up scenario was screwing with her mind and making her weak.
She stood up straighter, lifting her chin so she could look down at Samantha. “I don’t have shit to say to you.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” said the crimson-eyed woman, her eyes shining out with a fierce and powerful glow. “Why am I in here?”
“The hell if I know,” said Clea defensively, reflexively taking a step back as the red-eyed woman advanced towards her.
“I want to be in my room, with Dredge,” said Samantha, her chin trembling. “I just want to rest.”
Clea glanced around the room. “We have a bed,” she said pointing to the low mattress resting against the opposing wall.
Samantha crossed her arms over the small mound of her belly, one eyebrow lifted in a high arch. “Oh? And who is we?”
Clea stammered. “That’s not what I meant.”
The wild look was back in the pregnant woman’s eyes. “Well it’s what you better mean, and soon!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“God!” Samantha cried out, throwing her arms in the air. “Are you really that fucking dense?”
Clea cocked her head to the side. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I mean,” said Samantha hotly, “that you need to pull your shit together before you ruin this for you me and everyone else on this fucking heap of bull shit piece of shit space metal.” With every expletive, Samantha lashed out, kicking at the low table with her bare feet. When she was done, she propped her hands on the table’s edge, breathing heavily.
Clea eased over to the woman, her gaze focused intently on the wild flashing of the Samantha’s stomach.
“I think you need to calm down a little bit,” she said slowly, as if she were trying to coax a wild animal into a cage.
Samantha’s eyes darted up, the harsh red glow making Clea’s own eyes sting with the intensity of their light. “No, what I need is to be near Dredge.”
“What the fuck does that even matter?” Clea said, her own temper building. She ignored the way the glow in Samantha’s belly jumped around, dulling in one moment to flare in the next. “You are going to betray his big blue ass. The fuck you want to be around him for, anyway?”
Samantha dove at Clea, her small hands
squeezing at Clea’s throat.
Careful not to do anything that could jeopardize Samantha’s baby – though why she should care, if the pregnant woman was going to be eighteen different kinds of fucking crazy – Clea pushed one of her forearms down between Samantha’s arms. She grabbed that hand with her other hand and twisted, forcing the red-eyed woman’s hands to pull away from her throat.
Clea’s hand shot up to the skin of her neck, gasping. When she pulled her hand away, blood shone slick and thick on her palm.
The bitch scratched me.
“What is wrong with you?” Clea wheezed. “Sorry for insulting your man. Damn.”
“It’s not that,” Samantha said weakly.
Clea glanced down. Samantha had collapsed into the last remaining chair in the room, the fractured remains of the chair Slep had obliterated in his massive claws lying scattered around her feet.
“So much is riding on this plan being a success...,” Samantha said, slowly and deliberately. “We must make this all work, Clea. Don’t you get that?”
A thick tear slid down the woman’s cheek, the bright red light from her eyes illuminating it, making it look as if the Samantha was crying drops of blood.
Clea shivered at the sight.
“I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said, rubbing at the flesh from her throat. “But I don’t understand why you are pissed at me.”
Samantha shook her head. She ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it at the roots. “You couldn’t just sleep with him?”
“With Ignis? Hell no.”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “I know it’s not the most appealing thing in the world, but–"
“I don’t want to be pregnant, okay?”
Samantha gave her a sharp look. “Fucking the Ardan isn’t guaranteed to make you pregnant. It might not even take, the first time.”
Clea wanted to gag at the thought of having to mate with Ignis more than once. The feel of his hard body pressed against hers assaulted her mind, but she pushed the thought away.
She shook her head again, clearing the remaining lingering image from her mind’s eye.
“I bet it would take if a shit load of fertility hormones were coursing through my veins.”