Stars Apart: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Celestial Mates)

by Trina Novak

  Then, of course, there was sadness. Deep, complicated sadness. In those minutes when the two of them had stared at each other, unable to communicate thanks to Earth’s inferior holophone technology, Zarak had given himself over to the fantasy that she was his, this perfect human woman, meant for him and him only. And the feeling was so good, so real, that he could almost taste it. Then, of course, he had to snap himself back to reality. He had to admit, to himself and to her, that she wasn’t meant for him. No, in an incredibly cruel and baffling twist of fate, this incomparable creature was meant for Rollox, the piggish boil of an Azakian who ruled their planet like a spoiled child.

  It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

  And it didn’t make sense.

  What was it about Cassandra Wessex that had captivated him so? Yes, she was beautiful, blindingly so. Long golden locks that curled around her heart-shaped face like gentle waves. A mouth like a perfect little pink bow. Large green eyes, full of kindness but also strength. And a body that made him want to run his hands over every inch of her, explore the soft curves, the gentle contours, to squeeze and kiss and nibble, make her sweat and shiver and pant with wild passion that only he could quench.

  But there was something more to her – something more than just her exquisite physical being. And that was what he couldn’t put his finger on. Yes, she was feisty – and he very much liked that. She stood up to Rollox, knitting her beautiful brow in anger. Yet she also seemed soft, kind. In Cassandra he could sense an immensely deep well of emotion, a complicated and intriguing temperament that he wanted to explore just as much as he wanted to explore her intoxicating body.

  It felt strange, and a little mad, that he should feel all of these things from such a short interaction, but he had to be honest with himself: he did indeed feel it. He knew that love – if that’s what he was talking about, and he thought maybe it was, or could be – was complicated. The heart was complicated, whether you were from Earth or Azakia or any point in-between. Zarak’s adopted mother, the Queen of Azakia and Rollox’s mother, once told him that the heart knows things that the mind doesn’t, that the heart can know in an instant that which the mind may take decades to understand. She always told Zarak to listen to his heart, to trust the wisdom that it provided. She was such a sweet woman, and so wise, and so entirely different from her son Rollox, who treated kindness like a handicap to be overcome.

  Zarak wished his adopted mother was still alive to offer her guidance.

  What would he do? What could he do? Could he forget Cassandra? It seemed impossible. Could he conspire to bring her to Azakia? And then what? Rollox would likely have her killed in an instant if he knew that her affections lied with someone else, especially Zarak. Rollox had always hated Zarak, and the feeling was more than mutual. When they were children, Rollox would throw immense tantrums if his mother the Queen showed Zarak the slightest bit of affection. No, in Rollox’s eyes, he was the only one who was good enough for his mother’s love. Zarak, as far as Rollox was concerned, was a piece of trash, an orphan rescued from a distant mining colony who should’ve stayed there with the peasants.

  Rollox would never let Zarak have Cassandra.

  But still, he had to have her.

  He exited the anteroom and found Rollox slouched on a gilded throne (of course, all of Rollox’s chairs were gilded thrones, and he would never stoop so low as to sit on anything else). He was chewing a mouthful of putrid zonberries, imported from a planet eight sectors over. The zonberry juice stained his mouth a deep, oily black, and a pile of discarded zonberry husks lay in a stinking pile on his bloated belly.

  “So, the Earth girl,” Rollox said as a trickle of dark zonberry juice dribbled down his chin. “She’s not so bad, I guess. No bones, though. I’ll have to fix that. Put her on a three zonberry a day diet.”

  The thought of Cassandra losing her voluptuous, delicious curves made Zarak feel a sharp pain deep inside him. “You can’t force a woman to lose weight, Rollox. It’s unconscionable. Ms. Wessex is in charge of her own body.”

  “Nonsense,” Rollox spat. “And what do you know anyway? You’re too sensitive, Zarak. Worrying about others, about the rightness and wrongness of things. How many times have I told you? There is no right and wrong. There’s only what you want, and what you want is always right.”

  “And I’ve told you countless times that that is an absolutely insane philosophy,” Zarak replied. “Besides, you’re thinking a bit too far ahead, aren’t you, Rollox? She hasn’t even agreed to meet with you yet.”

  “Oh, she will,” he said, as if it was preposterous that she would even think of turning him down. “Believe me, she will.”

  “Well, you never know. She’s feisty,” Zarak offered. “Maybe she’s a little too feisty for you, Rollox. I know you like your women a bit more... compliant.”

  “Nonsense,” Rollox said again, as a gooey piece of zonberry shot out of his mouth. “She’s feisty, but she’s still just a woman, and a human woman at that. She’s no smarter than an Azakian waterworm. It won’t take much effort at all to break her of whatever bad habits she may have acquired on her moronic planet. I’ll have her skinny as a reed in no time, and so compliant that she’ll jump at the chance to service me any time I wish.”

  “Well, still,” Zarak replied, using all his willpower not to castigate his adopted brother for saying such ugly things about Cassandra. He knew he needed to keep Rollox calm, and on his side, in the hopes that he’d listen to his advice. “If this woman isn’t a match for you – and I have to be honest with you, it doesn’t seem like she is – we can always find you someone else. And maybe we could also find someone else on Azakia to match Cassandra with. I think it would be a smart move, politically, to foster good relations between Earth and Azakia.”

  Zarak knew this would be enticing to Overlord Rollox. The leaders of Earth thought he was a galactic joke, a mean-spirited loser, and if there was one thing Rollox hated it was not being respected. As much as he claimed to hate Earth, he also longed to have a good trade agreement with them, to be in their good graces. Despite their sometimes problematic technology, Earth was the most powerful planet in the Milky Way, and Rollox longed for a piece of that power.

  “No. No, absolutely not,” Rollox replied. “Not that girl. If she doesn’t want me, I’ll throw her into the pit on Mount Azakia. We can find another silly girl to foster good relations with Earth, as you say.”

  Zarak’s fists were balled in anger, yet his voice remained calm. “As Commander of the Azakian Legion, you know I won’t allow that, Rollox,” he said. “It’s senseless and cruel. Besides, if you throw her into the pit, do you really think that’s going to help foster good relations with Earth?”

  “I don’t care!” Rollox bellowed, letting loose another spray of zonberry juice from his greasy mouth. The delicate intricacies of galactic relations had always eluded him. Rollox generally lashed out in anger, and only much later realized he’d made a mistake. Not that he had ever admitted to a mistake in his life, of course. “She either goes in my bed or she goes into the pit!”

  “I can’t talk to you right now, Rollox,” Zarak said, knowing that if the conversation continued for much longer he might not be able to stop himself from wringing Rollox’s flabby neck. “You’re unhinged. Maybe you should lay off those zonberries.”

  “Just bring that stupid Earth girl here, already,” Rollox replied. “I need an heir to my throne.”

  “Don’t worry about the Earth girl,” Zarak replied. “I’ll handle the situation.”

  And handle the situation he would. He didn’t’ know how yet, but he was sure a plan would form in due time. Zarak was the commander of the Azakian Legion, after all, and he had been praised by world leaders across the galaxy for his superb negotiation skills and his tough yet even-handed leadership.

  This, of course, was yet another reason that his adopted brother Overlord Rollox hated him. Rollox was a universal joke, while Zarak was routinely labeled as the best thing to
ever happen to their planet.

  And Rollox would surely hate Zarak beyond all measure once he stole Cassandra from him. It would be perilous, and life-threatening to pull off, but Zarak knew that he had to try.

  There was no way he could forget her.

  No.

  He had to have Cassandra Wessex.

  Chapter Six

  Zarak’s holographic image flickered out, and I immediately turned to Keptin. “So, can we both agree that was a total shit show? I mean, pardon my French, I don’t know how you interdimensional beings feel about cursing, but fuck. Fuck! Keptin, that was a disaster, in more ways than you even understand.”

  “I agree that it wasn’t the smoothest meeting, and certainly not the most promising of matches, Cassandra,” Keptin said, grossly underestimating the situation. “But let’s not be rash. Maybe—”

  “Excuse me, let’s not be rash?!” Finally, it was my turn to interrupt Keptin. “You’ve got to be kidding me. And speaking of rashes... that man, Rollox, was basically a huge walking rash. I feel itchy just talking to him via the holophone.”

  “Ok, so perhaps I could’ve made a better choice,” he conceded.

  “You’re damn right you could’ve made a better choice, Keptin. Any choice would’ve been better than that man. I mean, he called me round! He was a complete jerk! How could you possibly think this man was the right choice for me? Especially when the right choice was clearly... I mean, the right choice...”

  “Yes?” Keptin’s eyebrows raised, waiting for me to finish my sentence.

  “The right choice was standing right next to Rollox, you fool. I already told you that.”

  “You mean Mr. Zarak?” he asked in a tone that was so incredulous that it almost knocked me over. “Oh. I didn’t think you were serious about that.”

  Classic Keptin: Shockingly insightful one minute, utterly oblivious the next.

  “Yes, obviously I mean Zarak. And obviously I’m very serious about that. He was...” I let myself wander back to those first perfect moments, when we stood together, in holographic form at least, looking deep into each other’s eyes. “He was perfect, Keptin. He was – he is – exactly what I’m looking for. And if you can’t see that, then your supervisor is right to fire you and send you back to the zon fields, or whatever you call it.”

  “Well, that is... I mean, yes, I... I suppose I could see how you’d...” Keptin was back to stammering, and I silently cursed the day I ever met him.

  “What can we do about this? I don’t know how Celestial Mates works, but can’t I just request a match? Can I request Zarak?” If he was available, that is. And I hoped with every fiber of my being that he was.

  “Well, that’s not usually how the protocol works. These matches, Cassandra, they’re complicated. A lot of factors go into a successful Celestial Mates match. You have personality traits, shared values, differing values, morphic resonance, which I know you don’t understand but I assure you is very important... and then there’s that elusive thing, the thing that Celestial Mates specializes in. It’s a resonance that’s even deeper than your common morphic resonance, and it’s—”

  “It’s another thing you failed at, Keptin.” I walked over to the kitchen and poured myself another large glass of wine as I talked. “If you think this Rollo, Rollox, whatever his name is, is the man for me, then you are seriously deluded.” I took a large gulp of wine and steeled my nerves. “I want Zarak. I want to request him. Can you make it happen or not?”

  “Well, let me just...” Keptin extended his hand into the air, and as if by magic, another folder appeared in it, materializing in some strange interdimensional way. “Let me look. You know our number one priority at Celestial Mates is to make our clients happy, and if we can make you happy, then—”

  “Save me the sales pitch, Keptin. Is Zarak available or not?” This of course, was the most pressing question. The question that would tell me whether it was even worth it to get so riled up, or whether I should just go back to TerraMatch, that cesspool filled with holo-pics of men’s cocks.

  Keptin flipped through the papers in the folder, then raised his eyes up to meet mine. I couldn’t tell whether he was about to deliver good news or bad. Like everything that had to do with Keptin, his expression was inscrutable.

  “No, Mr. Zarak is not married or involved with anyone presently,” he said, and I felt a lightness in my body. “But...”

  Uh-oh.

  “But what?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “He’s not in the Celestial Mates system. He has no account.”

  “So?” This felt like a formality, not the end of the world. But Keptin looked pained.

  “It’s not just that he’s not in the system,” he explained. “It’s that no one on the planet Azakia is in the system, except for Overlord Rollox. It’s flagged as a galactic treaty situation. In layman’s terms, it means that no one else on the planet, according to their rules, is legally allowed to be a client of Celestial Mates.”

  Of course. Of course Overlord Rollox, that giant sexist blob masquerading as a lifeform, would make a law that prohibited anyone else from finding love. Because he’d be the last person anyone would want. So he had to hobble the competition. All the competition.

  “So can’t I just call Zarak on my own? Without the involvement of Celestial Mates?” I realized I was pacing around my living room, sloshing pinot noir out of my wineglass as I circled around the sofa. “We can just do it the old fashioned way, right?”

  Keptin lowered his head and gave me a tight smile. “My dear, galactic politics is a complicated arena. Yes, you could call Mr. Zarak, but according to my files...” He waved the folder in front of my face, then let it drop and it disappeared into thin air. “Overlord Rollox is not such a nice man. As your assigned Celestial Mates Agent, I must warn you that what you’re proposing could be very perilous. Deadly, even. Rollox is unstable, and he could become violent. If I were you, I would advise against further action. He could retaliate not just against you, but against your entire planet. It could cause an intergalactic war. You don’t want to start a war, do you?”

  “No, obviously I don’t want to start a war,” I told him. My head was spinning. If Rollox was such an unstable, violent man, why the hell did Keptin choose him for me? He was out of his damn mind, just like Rollox apparently was. “But—”

  Keptin interrupted me immediately. “Cassandra, do you want to risk your life for this? Because that is surely what will happen.”

  Great. So if I pursued Zarak, I’d start an intergalactic war and be killed by an evil dictator. Just what I wanted to hear.

  What the hell had Keptin gotten me into?

  “So what do I do?” I asked, genuinely looking for some sort of direction. “You’re the one who set me up with a galactic monster. Tell me how to fix it.”

  “I hear the TerraMatch dating app has worked for many people,” Keptin offered with a shrug.

  “No. Absolutely not.” I mean, TerraMatch? Was he kidding? I’d seen enough holographic penises to last me my entire life, thanks to TerraMatch. There was no way I was going back to that cesspool.

  “Maybe you want to go to Azakia anyway and give this match a second chance?” Keptin said, his eyebrows fluttering like a hummingbird. “Maybe Overlord Rollox, despite all his hard edges, is a better fit than you think he is.”

  I didn’t even have to answer that with words. I shook my head no.

  “Think about it,” Keptin advised. “Just be open to the idea of traveling to Azakia. You really never know what might happen. Will you think about it for just a little while?”

  “Keptin, I—”

  “Please?” He looked up at me with that pale little cupid face, and it was weirdly hard to say no.

  “Fine. Sure. Whatever. I’ll think about it, Keptin. I don’t think I’m going to change my mind, but I’ll think about it.” I took a big slug of wine to make the promise more palatable.

  “That’s all I ask,” he said. “You really
never know how fate works, how love works, and how all the disparate pieces of your life may end up coming together – sometimes in the most unexpected ways.”

  “Yeah, great, thanks for that pep talk,” I said.

  Keptin toddled over to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of pinot noir. “I’ll leave you now, Cassandra. But I’ll be in touch soon. Think about everything, ok? Think about what your heart truly desires.”

  And with that, Keptin disappeared into whatever interdimensional hole he’d come from.

  And he took my last bottle of wine with him. What a little scoundrel.

  Chapter Seven

  Zarak spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, drifting into unconsciousness for brief moments and then waking in a cold sweat. He dreamed of Cassandra, of her gentle face, the gorgeous curve of her hips, the musical quality of her voice as she spoke to him. Then he would wake and it was as if she was still right there with him, the image of her so clear in his mind, so real, yet so impossibly far away.

  He had to do something, anything. He wasn’t even entirely sure if what he was feeling was even real – maybe he was imagining the connection, imagining something that was just a romantic fantasy, a hunger that could be quelled in any number of ways. But he needed to know.