“But what abou—”
“Va’naar, who is the medic here?”
I stifle a laugh at Ha’dir’s dry tone and the sheepish look on Va’naar’s face. It sounds like they’ve had this conversation before.
“You are, bu—”
“Can you read the data?” Ha’dir’s hand waves invitingly at the monitor. “Make sense of any of it?”
“Well no, bu—”
“She is healthy. And the babies are just fine. Stop worrying.”
“That’s good...Wait...Babies?” I blurt out, his words coming as a shock.
My eyes glance down at my stomach. Maybe I’m not so far along after all if there’s more than one in there. But how many are there?
Ha’dir smiles gently, turning the monitor so I can see it. “Yes, babies. You are carrying twins. A male and a female.” Ha’dir points out each baby while he speaks.
The babies look perfect. Fully formed, they cuddle together as if sleeping. The monitor can’t show me their skin color or texture, but I can see enough to know they aren’t entirely human. The girl baby has the teensiest pointed ears and a short, little nub of a tail that curls against her bottom. The boy baby doesn’t seem to have external ears at all. One of his hands is visible and I see he has three thick fingers instead of my five.
How is this possible?
I can’t help but wonder who the fathers are. How involved were they in the process of getting me pregnant? Were they prisoners too? Or willing donors? I guess I’ll never know now that I’ve escaped and the Viktoid ship was torn to pieces.
“What are—” Movement interrupts my question and I focus on Va’naar, who’s leaning towards the monitor like he can’t control his actions.
He stares at the ultrasound in wonder. The sight of the two little babies curling around each other enthralls him. There is a hunger in his eyes as he watches their tiny, little movements. One hand half raises like he wants to touch them. Watching him, I take the chance to really look at him. I’m not terribly familiar with his species, but he is beautiful for a male.
The rescue had been so fast and crazy, I hadn’t noticed much about my saviors. Clothing wise, all three of the Mephidaean males wore very little. With that much fur I don’t blame them.
Dark trousers seem to be standard, but each male wears a different type of vest. Ha’dir’s vest has huge pockets, made for holding his diagnostic scanner, hyposprays, and any other equipment he needs handy. Va’naar’s vest has a mix of pocket sizes as well as a built-in holster for his laser pistol. If I remembered correctly, Ca’lek’s vest was similar to Va’naar’s.
Covered head to toe in fur, the species resembles old earth animals like foxes and skunks, depending on their colors or markings. Ha’dir is a warm coppery brown with very little in the way of markings, with the exception of lighter tan stripes down the outside of his arms, and a few gray hairs peppered across his muzzle and chin. He has a short mane of amber colored hair that frames his face and ears, but stops at the top of his neck. His ears are cropped at the tips, and I can’t help but wonder why.
Va’naar is obviously younger, with rich black fur. I remember just how soft and silky it felt under my hands. Adorable, pointy black and white ears peek out of the thick silver-white fur on top of his head, which twitches forward with interest as he studies the screen. His face is slightly elongated and forms a short muzzle with a pointy black button of a nose. He has lips, but they aren’t quite human. It’s more like a cross between human lips and an animal’s mouth. I know from watching Ca’lek’s angry growls that they also have a mouth full of sharp teeth.
Thin stripes of white fur start in a sharp point above his eyes and disappear into his hair. They travel up over his head and down the middle of his back to the fluffiest tail I’ve ever seen, meeting back up again at the end of said tail. The fur on his torso is shorter, almost suede like, but much softer. Va’naar has five fingers like mine, but they’re thicker—maybe a little shorter—and tipped in sharp black claws.
A flicker of black in my peripheral vision makes me turn my head. Ca’lek stands in the far doorway, also staring at the ultrasound. I take the opportunity to observe him as well. His stripes are thicker, bolder, and more silver than white. His silver-white mane is longer and definitely thicker. His ears are black except for the edges where they are lined with lighter fur, the same shade as his mane.
With wider shoulders, he’s taller and more muscular than Va’naar and Ha’dir. It’s no wonder he’s the dominant primary. I have no doubt he could tear them both to pieces if he felt like it. He shifts, noticing my gaze and scowls at me, then turns and stalks out as if my very presence is an unpleasant disruption in his life.
Well fine then...So much for the hero and the damsel in distress vibe I’d thought we had.
Va’naar never noticed him, but it’s evident that Ha’dir did. He stares after Ca’lek for a moment, then looks at me with an unreadable expression before going back to his data.
“They aren’t human babies, Doc,” I finally say. “Any idea what species they are?”
“I’m afraid without DNA testing, I won’t be able to determine the exact species. Blood tests are usually accurate, but a test of the amniotic fluid is best. We can either wait until you give birth to learn their species, or I can extract an amniotic sample now and run a DNA panel on it. It would be quick and painless.”
Ha’dir opens a drawer and pulls out an auto-syringe with a long retractable needle. Sweat forms on my brow while the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s impossible to ignore the tingling sensation as fear creeps its way in. As much as I want to know more about my children, I hate needles. I don’t have it in me to do that, at least not right now.
“Given how far along you are, I think it’s best we wait until the babies are born,” he says, noticing my hesitation.
“Okay,” I say, then breathe a sigh of relief at his recommendation. “Wait, just how far along am I?”
He hums to himself for a moment, his fingers swiping across his datapad. “According to this reading you are approximately thirty-two of your human gestational weeks. If you carry like a human, you have approximately eight weeks left. It’s surprising you aren’t bigger, but some species normally carry smaller than a human fetus.”
Visibly shocked,I digest the information while silence fills the air.
“I’m eight months...” My voice trails off as I become lost in thought. Missing all the milestones of this pregnancy makes me unbearably sad. There’s been no worry over my period being late, no joy of discovery, no morning sickness, no decorating, no picking clothes or furniture or names, no sharing my excitement with my best friend Carissa or my coworkers at the spa. The regrets weigh on me. I can feel the tears wetting my eyes as I start to lose myself to the sudden grief.
A strong hand grips my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up at Va’naar. Sitting up, I grab his arm and pull him in for another hug. Screw Ca’lek, I need this for just a moment...I need someone who cares. And Va’naar does. I need him, even if I can’t keep him.
His hands stroke and pet my back, offering comfort while I sniffle and try not to fall apart again. He croons softly under his breath. It’s a soothing sound and I slowly relax into his warm arms.
Suddenly, I’m a bit envious of the mysterious Sa’rin, who gets to mate this sweet, empathetic male. Having a guy like Va’naar would be so nice after all the assholes I’ve been with in the past. It’s too bad Mr. Grumpy-Pants is part of the ‘Va’naar is a sweetie’ package. If only I could meet someone like him myself.
Behind him, Ha’dir watches us, seemingly unfazed by the young male’s embrace. After a long moment however, he loudly clears his throat and Va’naar tenses, then reluctantly lets go.
“Sorry,” I mumble, rubbing self consciously at my stomach. Then the strangest, most amazing thing happens. The babies move. Someone kicks, slamming a foot into my ribs and setting off a wrestling match inside my belly. I feel hands, feet
, and heads pushing and thumping against the inside of my body. I gasp at the sudden onslaught of movement, startling Va’naar.
“Polly, are you alright?” he asks, his voice full of worry.
“They’re moving!” I squeak, excited to feel them for the very first time.
Va’naar tilts his head in confusion. “What?”
“They’re moving! Oh my God, the babies are moving! Here, feel it.” Without thinking, I snatch his hand up and place it over the curve of my belly. One of the babies obligingly kicks it and Va’naar becomes visibly alarmed, yanking his hand away.
Va'naar turns to face the medic with panic stricken eyes. "I thought you said they were healthy," he accuses his ship mate.
Confused, Ha'dir draws his brows together in a tight scrunch. "They are."
"Then explain this!"
Before Ha’dir or I have a chance to say anything reassuring, Va'naar drags the medic over and forces him to touch my belly. Then he snatches up the scanner, mashing buttons without a thought or care as to what they do.
"How do you work this damn thing?" he demands.
An alarm goes off on the scanner. It’s jarring and shrill.
"What in Vren’s name is going on?" Ca'lek asks, striding back into the examination room. He sees Ha’dir’s hand still on my stomach and groans. "Must you touch her as well?"
Oh heavens. I'm just waiting to hear what the captain has to say about this. Based on his disapproving frown, I'm sure it's going to be golden.
“As the ship’s medic, I am obliged to touch her during an exam. There is no taboo against a medic touching a patient, much less a widowed medic. Or have you forgotten?” Ha'dir asks, glancing behind him, his tone is dry and completely unrepentant. His mouth quirks into a little grin when one of the babies kicks his hand.
It’s then that I realize two important things. One, Ha’dir is definitely older than the bonded pair, judging by the streaks of silver around his ears, and two, he doesn’t give a damn about how pissy Ca’lek is.
The alarm makes Ca'lek's ears flatten against his head. "Will someone please turn that abominable thing off?"
Ha'dir turns to Va'naar who is now holding the scanner upside down while its obnoxious beeping grows louder and more irritating. "Give me that damn thing before you deafen us all, you foolish pup."
Ha'dir attempts to snatch the device out of Va’naar’s unwilling hands, but Va’naar pulls back, elbowing Ca'lek, who now stands behind him, in the gut.
“Just what the hell are you doing?" he roars, clutching his stomach in pain.
I gape, knowing I should say something, but I can't find the words. These males are driving themselves to madness. Perhaps it’s a little evil, but I want to see what happens next. The babies roll again and I stroke my belly soothingly. After everything I’ve been through today, a little laugh won't hurt anyone.
∞∞∞
Ca'lek
My medbay is in chaos. And no thanks to Va’naar’s pointy elbow, my stomach is now bruised. Ha’dir and Va’naar are fighting over who needs the shrieking scanner more, and the cause of it all is watching wide-eyed from the examination table like she’s done nothing wrong. The two males swing around in their struggle for the handheld and someone’s heavy tail whaps across my face. I sputter, spitting out fur, then stumble back from the unruly dispute.
Laughter, high and clear as a bell, rings through the air. The female clutches her stomach, pealing with amusement. Ha’dir and Va’naar pause and look over at her, but she’s not watching them. Instead, she's staring at me and giggling uncontrollably. I scowl, but it only seems to entertain her even more.
Thankfully, Ha’dir takes advantage of the distraction and yanks the scanner out of my secondary’s hand and turns it off. The silence is a damn relief.
Va’naar edges closer to her, entranced by the sound of her mirth. It’s a lovely sound, I can’t deny that. Upon realizing my wayward thought, I scowl. So what? It doesn’t matter if her laughter is fetching. She isn’t Sa’rin.
“Va’naar!” I bark. “Settle her in the guest quarters and report to my cabin.”
Va’naar cringes at my tone and nods, glancing guiltily at me. I huff irritably, I storm out, determined to get away from the troublesome female and the males who can’t keep their hands off her.
I pace my cabin while I wait for him, and the longer I wait, the angrier I become. The female is disrupting everything. Her small frame and delicate condition triggers the protective instincts I wish to ignore. It’s not appropriate. Wanting to pet her hair is not appropriate. Still worse, seeing Ha’dir with his hand on her belly made me jealous and angry. I did not like the feeling. Even now, my own hands itch to feel the movements of the human’s unborn pups. It is a feeling that is most unwelcome.
When the door finally chimes, I’ve already stewed in my foolish thoughts enough, ready to bite my foolish secondary. Opening my door, I growl under my breath as he makes his way inside.
“Are you trying to ruin us?”
Va’naar stops short at my question. “No. I just—”
“You could have fooled me. We are to bond with Sa’rin in less than twenty cycles! As soon as we return from Rissa V we will be a mated tribond! And you risk it by being close to that human!”
“I only offered her comfort. She’s scared, lost, and pregnant without her consent. Polly’s life has been drastically altered. There isn’t a damned thing she can do about it. Why should I not offer comfort to a female in distress? Ignoring her pain only hurts the pups as well.”
Va’naar’s voice had risen in strength. I’d never known him to express himself so strongly. This was bad.
“You cannot let her distress become yours. You will become too attached and then we will all suffer for your broken heart. I will assign Messa and Ha’dir to watch over her. Do your duties and please, for the love of Vren, stay away from that human.”
“Her name is Polly!” Va’naar suddenly shouts, stepping into my space.
I growl and lunge forward, slamming him into the wall. His eyes open wide with shock. My bonded male has never seen me so forceful, at least not with him. Since we met so many solars ago, we have been family—practically brothers—all we lacked to complete our bond was a female we both agreed on. One we both could love. Now that our time of choosing has passed, we bow to the wishes of our matriarchs. We did not have the luxury of choice any longer.
“This is why you must stay away.” I say calmly. “We have been unmated for too long. You are drawn to a female in need of nurturing; it is your nature. It will get better once we bond with Sa’rin and have pups, but for now, avoid the...avoid Polly. For both our sakes, my brother.”
Va’naar sighs, slumping against the wall. Wordlessly, he nods and I release him. Tucking a hand behind his neck, I pull him close and touch my forehead to his. He accepts the affectionate touch for a moment, then pushes back and leaves.
My heart hurts at the slump in his shoulders. I am ordering my secondary to go against his nature, and...I am resisting my own. Growling in frustration, I punch the wall. I don’t like what’s happening on my ship, but I find I am helpless to stop it.
Chapter 4
Va’naar
Sleep was a long time coming. I spent my rest cycle tossing and turning, worrying about Polly. Was she comfortable? Was she warm enough? Was she lying awake anxious and worried as well? Ca’lek’s accusation itched at my thoughts, making guilt curdle in my stomach. Was he right? Was I merely drawn to Polly because it was in my nature to care deeply for those in need?
When I finally slept, it was late and morning came much too quickly.
I wake with an aching head and sore joints, but roll out of bed and head for the mess hall. My mouth waters for a hot breakfast and a good hot cup of krek, the best morning stimulant available on the market.
Opening my door and stepping into the hall, I pause. There’s a new scent in the air. It’s light and sweet. There’s a mouthwatering tang woven into it that I just can’t pla
ce. It’s like all of my favorite smells rolled into one amazing, irresistible scent. Sniffing deeply, I try to capture the elusive scent and follow it, but it’s so light that it’s difficult to track. I end up in the corridor outside the mess hall, where the food odors from inside compete with the new scent, obscuring the trail.
“So much for being the best tracker,” I mumble, sighing in defeat.
When the mess hall doors open, the first thing I notice is Polly. With her back to the door, she and Messa sit at one of the tables, laughing about something while they chat. At the counter, an exhausted looking Duresh pours himself a mug of krek.. Raids tend to tire everyone; except Kuma, who loves every bit of it.
As I walk in, Duresh grabs a second cup and fills it, passing it to me on his way to the bridge. He’ll relieve Kuma who monitored the ship during our rest cycle.
Cradling the hot krek, I smile at the animated conversation of the females. Polly’s hands wave as she describes the garden habitat and shopping veranda of her home station, while Messa leans in, eagerly listening and asking questions about things that perplex her.
“Oh my God, it’s so good. What did you call this alien coffee stuff again?” Polly asks, sipping her own drink with a moan that sends shivers down my body and straight to my cock.
“It’s krek,” Messa says after taking her own sip. Setting her cup down on the table, she angles her head in my direction and smirks. “Quit lurking, Va’naar.”
I shift uncomfortably, remembering Ca’lek’s words, then straighten my shoulders and stride around the table to sit on the opposite side of them. As I take my seat, I sneak another quick glance at Polly.
She has changed into a loose gown that Messa must have fabricated for her. It’s pale blue and matches the blue tint in her hair. The fabric drapes in billowy folds down her body. It’s actually perfect for a dam round with pups. The straps fit over her shoulders and the excess fabric allows for the growth of her body without needing alterations. She looks comfortable and well rested. Or at least she did.
The Alien Pirates' Treasure (Star Pirates Book 1) Page 4