Saved by the Alien Dragon

by Stella Cassy

  Then my legs were splayed, and he was inside of me with a single, powerful motion. I inhaled sharply. It did ache, and at first, I thought he might split me in half. But as his hips began a slow and steady rhythm against mine, I knew I could take it. I had to. I needed to feel every inch of him, piercing me to my core until it seemed like I would burst.

  The ridges pushed against my clit with every thrust, and I let out a high, quavering groan that rose into a full-throated scream. I hooked my fingernails against his skin, but his scales were unyielding. I felt the tips of his claws against my flesh and got scared, but instead of digging them into me, he pulled them away, scratching at the metal floor instead.

  My climax was a series of hot and savage blasts that reminded me of the mining accidents at the colony, when excavators would accidentally ignite the volatile gases in the tunnels, causing a chain reaction of explosions. A moment later, I felt him gush – an orgasm that was oddly chilled, like a blessed coolant applied to my steamy insides.

  Then there was only the silence of the room, echoing with our heavy breathing and humid with our combined musk.

  6

  Dashel

  There are few moments of clarity more thoroughly horrifying than the handful of seconds after an illicit sexual encounter – when the hungry immediacy of lust is gone, replaced with paralyzing realization and remorse in its aftermath.

  I was gripped by that same blood-freezing clarity as I withdrew from Natalie.

  What had I done?

  I was supposed to extract information from her. Not only hadn't I learned anything of value (or anything at all that I hadn't already known), I'd shown unforgivable weakness by succumbing to her feminine wiles. Instead of successfully manipulating her, I'd demonstrated that she was capable of manipulating me.

  I felt guilty. What's worse, I felt like a fool.

  I stood quickly, re-latching the front of my space suit. Surveying her shredded overalls made me feel even more ashamed. “I'll, er, find you something suitable to wear,” I mumbled.

  “Leaving so soon?” she asked. Was there a hint of mocking in her tone? Of course. After all, why wouldn't there be, when she'd played me like a Plekkian silverflute?

  “I'll be back,” I replied, trying to sound tough. “And when I am, we'll return to the subject of the mining colonies...and you will tell me what you know, or the consequences will be dire.”

  She yawned elaborately, stretching her whole body out to provide one final display of her nakedness. “I'll be waiting.”

  I keyed the access code on the door pad, being careful to shield it from her – as though caution would do much to help me at this point. I was burning with shame as I stepped into the corridor, shutting the door and re-establishing the force field projectors.

  At least Ranel wasn't watching through the vidscreen, I thought, walking toward the command deck with my head down. At least he doesn't know what I...

  I ran into someone and looked up.

  It was Ranel. He was standing in front of the vidscreen, which was still set to the holocam in Natalie's cell.

  And he was holding a recording chip between two claws, his lips curled into a scowl.

  “You weak-minded idiot,” he snarled.

  I drew myself up to my full height, trying to seem imposing and unapologetic even as I was dying inside. “You disobeyed a direct order and watched my debriefing anyway?”

  “Oh, is that what I was watching? A debriefing? Because it looked to me like some kind of crudely staged Broxiian peepshow. And you don't want to be snapping at me about orders and protocols, boy. Not after the disgusting display I just saw. I swear, Dashel, indulging yourself with this kind of reckless behavior –endangering our mission by falling for some slave girl's cheap seductions—it's like you want to be stripped of your new rank and command. And now you've given me all the reason and evidence I'd need to do exactly that.”

  I sighed. There was no point playing it tough anymore. I'd failed one of my first tests as a commanding officer, and miserably at that. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was trying to sabotage myself, on some level, out of fear that I just wasn't worthy of the responsibilities I'd been given. Maybe the ship would be better off with Ranel in charge.

  “If that's what you decide,” I answered, “there's clearly nothing I can do to stop you.”

  “I shouldn't have to make such a decision,” he spat. “I am too close to you, to your family, to act objectively in this matter. And, moron that I am, I'm actually still rooting for you to succeed despite this gross lack of judgment. Perhaps it was a mistake for the fleet admirals to appoint me as your damn babysitter. But while you were rolling around on the floor with your new pet, Tarion's ship rendezvoused with the Wyvern. He's waiting for you in the conference room. Maybe I should bring this to him and let him decide your fate.”

  I felt my heart drop through the lower bulkhead of the ship and into the chill of deep space. Tarion was known for being at least as bad-tempered as Ranel, with enough clout to effectively end my career with the Hielsrane fleet. One word from him, and I'd be scrubbing out waste disposal units and nuclear star drive residue with a handheld fang-cleaner from now until old age. “As I said, Ranel, the choice is entirely yours.”

  He glared at me for a few more moments then brought his claws together, crushing the recording chip to splinters between them. I felt the breath enter my lungs once more, like one who'd been rescued from drowning.

  “Make your report to Tarion,” Ranel grumbled. “But so help me, boy, one more breach of conduct like this one, and I'm taking command of this vessel and reporting your actions to the admirals. All of your actions,” he added ominously. “You can tell them I destroyed this evidence to give you another chance if you like, but it won't help you. They'll demote me, but your punishment will be far more harsh and final. Am I making myself understood?”

  “Yes, Ranel. Thank you. You're a good friend.”

  He put his claws on my shoulders, looking at me earnestly. “I have high hopes for you, Dashel. Don't disappoint me.”

  Ranel led me to the conference room, where Tarion was waiting – scaled red, teeth and claws sharpened, imperious frown firmly in place. Since the Wyvern was practically a scow, the meeting area was cramped, and he seemed to fill most of it with his muscles and overall presence. The members of our species tend to be quite tall, but even among those, Tarion's height was particularly imposing.

  “Captain Dashel,” he rumbled. “Your second in command has provided an initial report of the invasion of Nort, and I must say, I'm impressed.”

  I tried to hide my surprise. Given the fact that we'd only managed to secure three of the nine mining colonies on the surface, I'd been prepared for harsh words from him.

  He must have noticed my reaction, because he nodded dismissively. “Oh yes, I know it must not seem like much of a victory to you at this stage, only neutralizing one third of the targets in the first sweep. But I have to tell you, given the extremely limited resources at your disposal, most of the high-ranking officers in the fleet – myself included – were certain you would fail spectacularly. This was a test –one you were not expected to pass. You did, though, against all odds. In fact, having bet against you myself, it seems I owe Admiral Merkek a great deal of money.”

  I allowed myself a proud smile. “Well, I'm sorry to have cost you such a sum, but I glad I managed to exceed expectations all the same.”

  Tarion grinned. Since he wasn't known for his good nature, such a sign of acceptance and validation from him felt like the first rays of sunlight on my scales after a long, cold, dark night. “Now, then. I'm told you have a human prisoner. A slave of some distinction, who might have valuable data on the other camps and how to subdue them.”

  “That's correct, sir.”

  “Very good. But a word of caution about Earthers, Dashel: They may seem soft and frail due to their physical limitations, but that only belies how resourceful and dangerous they can be. Especially in captivity. They val
ue their freedom more than any other race in the entire cosmos, and they will stop at nothing to achieve it. They lack our technological superiority, but I assure you, our capacity for intelligence and savagery pales in comparison to theirs when their backs are to the floor.”

  “She seemed relatively cooperative during Dashel's interrogation,” Ranel smirked, “even under those conditions.”

  I resisted the urge to shoot Ranel a dirty look.

  Tarion clapped his claws together briskly. “Ah, so she's already being forthcoming! Excellent. Then I imagine you'll have the rest of this planet neatly wrapped up within the next few cycles. In that case, I suppose I'd better return to Coovoo to check on the progress by Lehar's crew.” He grasped my claw in his earnestly. “Keep up the good work, Captain Dashel, and one day soon, you might find yourself the youngest fleet member ever promoted to the rank of admiral.”

  He turned, striding out of the room. Once the door closed behind him, Ranel turned to me, raising a scaly eyebrow.

  “And then again,” he said, “you might not.”

  7

  Natalie

  “I saw everything that happened in here earlier, you know.”

  The one called Ranel was in my cell, frowning down at me with his arms crossed. I returned his gaze evenly. “How nice for you. Is that why you're in here? Hoping for a personal encore?”

  “I'd sooner bed a Nk'athen with dysentery.” He showed me all of his fearsome teeth in a mirthless smile. “I suppose you thought you were being terribly clever, seducing our captain like that.”

  “Not really. It was just one of those moments that happen in life. He wanted it, I wanted it, so we went for it. I'm sure the same thing happens between consenting adults on your world all the time.”

  “Earther, you have no knowledge of what happens on Thirren, I assure you. For example, it may interest you to know that on our world, we have entire harems– of all races, including human – whose physical attributes put yours to shame. You might think you're something special because of what went on between you and the captain. You might even think you've managed to get inside his head somehow. But the truth is, he only indulged his appetites with you because he was bored. He was...” He stopped, tilted his head as though trying to remember a difficult word, then grinned. “He was, as you Earthers say, slumming it. You understand the meaning of this term, yes?”

  I smirked. “I understand that when a second in command like you takes the time to come in and feed me this line of horseshit, it means you're genuinely concerned that I've managed to exploit a character flaw in your captain. Which means you're scared of me.”

  He grunted, unhappy that he hadn't managed to rattle me. “Think what you wish. But know this: If you don't give the captain the information you possess regarding the Pax and their insurgency, I'll be the next one digging around inside your pink little human body with an array of extremely unpleasant surgical implements.”

  He turned, leaving the cell. I tried to watch him key in the access code, but like Dashel before him, Ranel kept the panel hidden from view.

  Damn.

  I hated to admit it, even to myself, but he had a point. I might have managed to shake the captain up a bit, but I was kidding myself if I thought my only reasons had been tactical – which disturbed me, since I preferred to understand my own motivations more clearly. I hadn't intended to give myself over to him so completely, to get lost in the moment the way I had. Why would I, when he was my jailer and I'd spent so many years trying to be free? Yet I couldn't deny my attraction to him on some primal level, and it was damn frustrating.

  What's worse, I hadn't managed to gain the upper hand in any real way that would lead to my freedom.

  Which meant I'd have to figure something out for myself, if I wanted to get out of the cell. And the longer I stared at the keypad, the clearer my plan became.

  First, I checked the buttons on the pad to see if Ranel or Dashel had left any marks with their fingertips, indicating the code sequence. I didn't expect to have any luck there, though. Their reptilian skin was too dry to secrete any oils, and they must have had tremendous control over their talons to keep from leaving little nicks or scrapes which would yield clues.

  But...

  If this room had previously been used to store cleaning supplies, that meant janitorial staff would have been going in and out of here on a daily basis. Since they'd be working with dirt and chemicals, odds were that they would have left some on the buttons. There was no reason to believe the code would have been changed since then, or that they wouldn't have simply synched the force field projectors to the same code the door already had.

  After all, they'd had to put this whole setup together rather quickly in order to accommodate me, right? Plus, based on the taunts I'd gotten from Ranel and Dashel, it seemed like these Hielsrane tended to underestimate humans (much like every other race in the cosmos, from what I'd experienced).

  Sure enough, there was some corrosion and discoloration on three of the buttons – very faint, but if I strained my eyes, I could just make it out.

  So those were the buttons to use. But what was the sequence? And if I got it wrong on the first couple tries, what would happen to me? An alarm? An electric shock? Something worse?

  I shook my head. No. Again, I had to remember this room wasn't originally meant to keep captives, so why would they build in a system to punish some ship's janitor who might be (understandably) too distracted by other thoughts to get the code right the first time?

  Still, I was nervous. I was ascribing human logic to an alien race, something the Pax had taught me not to do a long time ago. It was a big galaxy, and not everything had to make sense.

  Like enjoying a casual fuck with a dragon raider who could order me executed or sold into slavery, I thought dryly. But let's focus on one mystery at a time, shall we?

  When I tried the first sequence at random, a flat mechanical honk emanated from the pad, as if to say, TRY AGAIN, ASSHOLE, AND PAY ATTENTION THIS TIME!

  I flinched. Yikes. Maybe they were harder on their cleaning staff than I'd expected. Maybe the next failure would result in an electric shock – or a spike through the eye.

  But the second sequence did the trick. The force field fizzled off, and the door slid open.

  I immediately flattened myself against the inner wall next to the doorway, glancing out to see the layout of the corridor – and to determine whether there were any crew members passing by. If there were, I could always play dumb and say the thing opened on its own and possibly overpower them. That wouldn't be ideal, though, since it would alert the rest of the crew to my escape much sooner.

  The corridor looked empty, and I poked my head out warily, surveying my surroundings.

  Christ, what a dump.

  The lights were dim, and many of the panels were flickering. They were probably kept that way to reduce the power drain on the propulsion drive, which meant this was an outdated ship model and kept in poor condition. There were areas of the walls that had been opened up for repairs and left that way, with tubes, ducts, and glowing wires exposed.

  I actually found myself feeling sorry for Dashel. If he'd been assigned to captain this repulsive old shit heap, it must have meant it was either his first command (which was likely, given how young he seemed), or he'd messed up his last command so badly that someone decided this would be a good way to punish him for it.

  Either way, I was starting to understand why it had been so easy for me to seduce him. Anyone who'd been handed such a dismal job probably had to take his joys where he could find them.

  The bottom line was that these conditions were ideal for me. A well-lit ship with smooth corridors would have been almost impossible for me to get around in without being seen. Here, though, the shadows and exposed nooks would be perfect for sneaking around and hiding. I could get to the shuttle bay, and...

  ...then what?

  Any drop-shuttles they had were probably already deployed across Nort, trying to finis
h what they'd started. And even if there were still shuttles on the ship, how could I be sure I'd be able to fly one? I was familiar with Pax technology, but the Hielsrane systems would almost certainly be beyond my comprehension. In the unlikely event that I managed to figure out the controls, I wouldn't get very far before the main ship either recaptured me or blew me to atoms.

  So think, Natalie. If you can't take a shuttle out of here, what's your plan?

  Captain Dashel. He was my plan.

  I'd already compromised him, hadn't I? I was his dirty little secret. If I could get to him, figure out how to properly exploit him, then maybe he would be my ticket out of here. Apply the right kind of pressure, and he might gladly aid my getaway, just to save his career and maintain the respect of his crew. Prisoners escape, after all. It'd be embarrassing, but not uncommon; nothing that would raise too many questions. The consequences of that were probably less severe than the punishment for fraternizing with them.

  I darted out of the cell, keying the sequence to shut the door behind me so passersby wouldn't know I was gone. Then I skulked in the shadows and open panels, searching for clues that pointed to where I could find Dashel.

  8

  Dashel

  I'd already taken three cold laser showers, and still, I was tempted to hop back in the hygiene chamber for a fourth. Maybe even a fifth.

  At first, I thought it was just my usual germaphobia. I'd been with an Earther – a slave from the Pax mines, no less, who could be carrying multiple varieties of filth and bacteria no matter what Stal said. It was only natural for me to give in to my compulsion toward cleanliness.