by Nora Blaze
I stand with shaky breath, my feet cushioned in clouds.
“Gurtock,” I say, warmth flushing my cheeks. “Thank you.”
He furrows his brow and nods, suddenly very serious. “Lore Ecka.”
Refreshed, I follow him out into the ship. For the first time since I woke up in outer space I start to believe things could turn around. My time in space has been one endless nightmare but Gurtock is here, protecting me from the worst of it.
He cares about me.
I need him to keep caring about me. Not only is it crucial for my survival, as soft fabric caresses my freshly bathed skin, I realize that I kind of like it, too.
We step into a big room walled with windows that show the stars. The other three aliens are all there working the controls and talking to each other.
I stop and lie my hand over my heart. Before me is a sight so gorgeous I can’t believe it. A gigantic planet of swirling reds, browns, and oranges shines against the black sky. In the distance behind it I see a yellow sun, very much like the one I’m used to. The planet’s swirling colors are creamy and rich and I can feel its energy.
The massive orange orb is surrounded by activity. There seems to be a planet like Earth as well as one like Mars, both floating in the air. Smaller globes of many different colors dot the sky while a sprawling metal station floats by beside us and ships of all different kinds soar into the distance.
My heart pounds. I’m looking at an alien world and its filled with life.
Gurtock points to the blue and green globe. He grunts in his language, pointing at it. “Gris Grolack,” he growls.
Somehow, I know that he’s showing me his home planet. He’s showing me that this is where he lives and the pride is his eyes warms my heart.
“Gris Grolak,” I whisper.
It’s not Earth, but finally, I’m going somewhere I might be safe.
Chapter Seven
UrTak
I suck in a deep breath of the crisp, clear air. Three seasons have passed on KrysOlak since I last stepped foot on my home moon. Now, I am granted the pleasure of not only returning to the source of my strength but doing so with a woman who may well be my destined mate at my side.
That she could be my destined mate, I am starting to believe. My lucex seemed to spark up my arms with pleasure just from the look of her naked pink flesh. The spark was feint, and it came and went so quickly, I almost did not believe it had happened at all.
How many cocky young KrysOlakns had spent a weekend at a pleasure hut only to come home and swear their lucex had risen? A species with no mates could be forgiven for desperation, but that was not what I felt for Lore Ecka.
What I feel is not desperation, but the spark of something real igniting.
“It’s good to be back,” PryZor says as he steps to my side. We are in an unloading bay reserved for high security arrivals, beneath the capitol city CrysMond. Outside of a few scattered security, we are the only ones in the cavernous space outside the city. My travel pack hangs over my shoulder, which is already healed from our medical technology.
Grov joins us. “Yeah, we’ll see how good you feel after the High Council demands an explanation for this.” He gestures at Lore Ecka, standing by my side with her jaw hanging open as she takes in the moon.
I smile down at her gorgeous white eyes, pure and wide. “The Council will demand what the Council will demand,” I say. “But first, we’re getting this woman a translator.”
A private security craft waits for us. Only a few people on the planet know I’m bringing back a sentient being from a new species and I want to keep it that way. Lore Ecka’s presence is going to cause a massive stir and I’d rather put things off as long as possible.
The black craft hovers above the ground, humming blue energy from its base. We step inside and it zips out into the city. I delight in watching Lore Ecka’s face as she stares out the window. Her eyes dance across the spiral towers that rise from our ancient cliffs. She laughs with delight when passing the floating gardens, a wonder that has earned our moon praise across many stars. Many of our brother moons are visible in the sky this day and I remember that the tri-lunar eclipse is nearly here.
We soar into a tunnel beneath the city, shoot through the darkness, and arrive at my home tower. While there are many smaller structures built into the cliffs of our rocky planet I have chosen to live in one of the ornate towers, built with great skill by our ancestors and now outfitted with the latest technologies. We enter my residence, which looks out over the sprawling city from the top of the tower, and Lore Ecka startles when a delivery person jets by the window on a cycler.
I chuckle and gesture to the cushioned seats that line the window. The translator I had requested is waiting and I remove the silver nub from the white box as I approach her. Unlike the translator at the Beast Market, this features our latest hardware and I’m glad to know it will release a numbing cream so quickly, she won’t feel any pain.
Lore Ecka looks at me hesitantly. Remembering how quick she was to run, I make sure to move very slowly while I rest my hand on her chin and tilt her face up.
This time, she does not flinch and jump back. Her eyes are still clouded with hesitancy, which I understand, considering all she has been through. But it satisfies me deeply that, despite all this, she seems to have decided to extend me some trust.
“Here you go,” I say as I press the device against her temple and wait for it to attach.
Lore Ecka blinks, startled, and I take a seat next to her.
“Hello,” I offer.
She blinks a few times. “Zarg,” she says.
I smile. “We don’t know your language, so this translator is going to be working overtime figuring things out. But the more you talk with me, the more it will be able to read the electric pulses in your brain and translate them to language. And talking to each other will make it learn faster.”
“Hello,” she says, confused. “Zarg oh.”
“Yes, yes. This is the moon where I live, KrysOlak. And you are here in my home.” I gesture, pointing across the open space. “That is my recreation pod and that is my kitchen. Our biology is similar enough that the foods here should please you.”
Lore Ecka purses her pretty lips. My mind darts upstairs and I think of my large bed and how desperately I want to drag her there, as one would do with a destined mate.
Soon, I hope. A lucex does not spark unless the heat grows in each mate.
“What Lor on the Lor? You Lorrrrr.”
I frown. “I’m not sure what that means, I’m sorry.”
“Not sure what you means,” she answers defensively and squints her eyes at me.
I erupt in loud laughter, delighted but that the translator is catching on quickly and that she does not seem to fear me. Professional assassins and trained killers across the known stars fear KrysOlakn warriors, yet she challenges me and holds her resolve, even after everything she has lived through.
“I think the translator is catching on quickly,” I say. “Another good sign.”
Lore Ecka stands and turns her gaze out the window. Her breasts fill the festival dress she chose and my eyes linger on the curve of her hips as she sways them softly. “Other Lor not home.”
My wrist function beeps with a reminder that I’m needed straight to the High Council. I wish I could stay here, teasing out her language and learning more about her. She is a fascinating being, like no one I have encountered.
I stand, tearing myself away. “I hope that I can leave you here and that you will not try to run away,” I say.
Lore Ecka squints and looks at me funny, clearly not following. I try again, speaking simply. “My home,” I say, gesturing around.
“Your home,” Lore Ecka answers, gesturing.
“Yes!” I answer. “Very good.” I walk across the open space to the kitchen and pull a few bottles and pre-ready meals out. “Here is food,” I say as I make a gesture like I am eating, “and drinks.” I push my hair back, frustrated
that I can’t provide her more at this moment. “I will be back soon.”
“I own the planet?” Lore Ecka asks.
I chuckle at the bad translation. “You’ll be safe here for now. There’s a guard at the door with orders no one should disturb you.”
Lore Ecka nods, seeming to accept what I say, and I force myself to leave. The High Council doesn’t like to wait, especially not when they’re calling a warrior in for disciplinary action.
I enter the council chambers with my squad behind me. Under a mirrored orb that reflects the light of our sky across the rocky floor, the High Council waits in their long black robes.
I have been in this room many times to represent the warriors. Normally, screens would float and flicker about the space, broadcasting the proceedings to the Irisian moons, but this afternoon the chambers are notably quiet and empty with only the highest ranking figures present, a necessary precaution considering the sensitivity of the information I bring.
The First Seat stands and pounds his fist against the long silver table. “The High Council is in session, proceedings will begin immediately,” he declares. The aged KrysOlakn hunches over, tired already. Both of his horns are gone and his muscles have dwindled.
Still, the leader’s spirit is fierce and fury flashes through his eyes as he stares at my squad. “Are we to understand that you four warriors took it upon yourselves to attack a Wehizx ship?”
I step forward. Twelve sets of wise eyes burn into me, but I do not flinch. “I take responsibility,” I say. “I insisted and my squad followed my orders.”
A much younger member of the council leans forward. “Why?” he demands.
How could I possibly answer such a question? Long dormant instincts rose up and demanded that I do this? The call of my warrior ancestors reached across the stars, providing the bravery I needed to attack?
Or the truth I am most afraid to reveal, that a woman’s heart sang to me through the stars and called me there? That this attack was destined? These truths feel too fragile and new to share.
“When I was a child, the High Council decided to name warriors in the traditions of the ancestors,” I point out. “Why do this if we are not to take up arms against the Wehizx wherever we see them?”
Half the council grumbles in agreement and half objects, the ruckus overtaking the room until the First Seat pounds the table again. “Enough! Your mission was to patrol the outer edges of the Borderplanets, not to instigate another war!”
“Another war?” Grov objects. “As far as I remember, the war never ended.”
“No war has ended,” the First Seat counters, “and no warrior has a right to enter battle without the approval of the council. We have sent patrols across Alliance territory, but do not fool yourselves into thinking we are safe. The Wehizx have certainly developed new technologies since we last encountered them.” He drops back down into his seat with an exhausted huff.
“My First Seat, if I may,” Mokrov says. “This was not simply an assault. We left the ship with a wealth of those new technologies you speak of, all of which have been rushed to the laboratory for examination. This payload will be invaluable in defending ourselves against future aggression and the losses the Wehizx suffered will send a clear message about our power.”
“I tangled with a new kind of cyborg,” PryZor adds. “I have a full debrief ready.”
“We’ve also seized a device they seemed to use to teleport,” Mokrov stresses.
Murmurs fill the long table. The Second Seat whispers something to the First Seat, then addresses us again. “And what do you say of this woman? A female from an unencountered species. Have the Wehizx started to harvest her kind?”
“She is in my dwelling,” I say. “As soon as her translator has adjusted to her neural waves we will have more information to share.” I grit my teeth, then answer the other part of his question, although it pains me to admit this reality. “And yes, it seems like they have begun the harvest of her species, although they are still early in this process.”
“Your dwelling,” the council member replies with a scoff. “What, do you claim her now, UrTak? Truly, the warriors seem to have lost their heads!”
Rumbles of laughter fill the room and I grit my teeth. How dare the High Council mock me in this way? I have fought for KrysOlak like no other and thrown myself into the wars to defend the barbarian planets. I wear my scars with pride, but it seems the rest of my species has forgotten our purpose.
“A KrysOlakn male has never successfully claimed a woman of another species,” I snap, denying the accusation without denying my growing feelings for Lore Ecka. “But I am honorable and I take responsibility for this woman just as I take responsibility for KrysOlak by attacking the Wehizx. We are never safe while they roam the stars, nor are her kind. As the code of the warriors declares, it is our duty to battle our enemies wherever they might be found. It is on this authority that I act.”
I stand, proud of myself for declaring the truth as I know it in my bones.
The First Seat grunts. “Be that as it may, your provocation against our most dangerous enemy has thrown the whole moon into a difficult spot before the tri-lunar eclipse. We will recess for the celebrations and meet again once the sun has risen twice. At that point, the High Council will decide what will come of you and your woman.”
Chapter Eight
Loretta
I press my hand to the window and watch the expansive city. Towers stretch toward the pale sky, built of solid rock and reinforced with sleek metal, but unlike in the cities on Earth, every structure here is generously spaced apart. Each tower is built into its own cliff, the rocks tinged with green and blue, and the giant orange planet hovers brightly above it all.
I’m high in the air so I can’t tell what’s happening on the ground but enough weird flying cars and rockets shoot by that I know the city is busy. As a burgundy dusk settles and lights shine in the distance, I realize this city must stretch far beyond what I can see.
With a shaky breath I step away. It’s still difficult to process the reality that I’m on an alien world, even though I can feel it with every fiber of my body. There’s something unfamiliar about the air, like it’s almost humid but also very dry at the same time, and my sense of balance is wonky, like I’m walking on a tilt.
I lift my hand and gently stroke the small device, now implanted into my temple. If I need another reminder of how strange things have gotten, this is it. The small silver dot didn’t hurt and I hadn’t even noticed when Gurtock attached it to my brain. A second later, though, his words had started to wobble and slowly English had come out of his mouth.
It was broken, scattered, nonsense English. But still, just hearing English words cross his lips did something to me.
Sitting at the long wooden table in the middle of the home I try to force myself to eat a little more. There’s a plate filled with meaty chunks, each burnt on the top, and another filled with leafy green vegetables and small black berries that smell sweet but taste savory when I bite into them. It all tastes good, kind of like the ingredients in a gyro, and I can feel it nourishing my body.
Gurtock’s food, his home, his planet… Everything I have is his. Back on Earth I hated the idea of being dependent on another person. My dad always said my independent streak was simultaneously my best and worst quality and I didn’t disagree with the assessment. It definitely got me into as much trouble as it kept me out of.
I guess finding yourself totally powerless in an unfamiliar world has a way of changing your perspective. Even though I still crave my independence, I fear what it would mean to be alone.
The door to the apartment slides open and he walks in. He walks with confident purpose, determination etched on his face.
“Lore Ecka,” he says. “How are you?”
I blink. His words are clearer and easy to understand, unlike before. “Gurtock,” I answer, rising to my feet. “I’m okay, I guess.”
The side of his mouth cocks up in a sli
ght smile. “I am happy to see you safely in my dwelling.”
I have an urge to greet him with an embrace but I stop myself. A flicker of something familiar, almost erotic, haunts my imagination when I think of this alien but I can’t let myself get distracted by something silly like that. I need to stay focused on my survival and on rescuing Marie.
“My name is Loretta,” I say, pronouncing it slowly.
He nods. “UrTak,” he says, and somehow I have a clear sense of how the name is pronounced, present in my mind.
“It seems as though our translators are learning,” he says as he walks behind the kitchen counter. “It is a birthday party to talk to you.”
I blurt out a laugh. “A birthday party?”
UrTak chuckles. “Perhaps the translator still has some work to do, but it will catch you. Soon, it will even change measurements and amounts of time into units that are for you.” He taps his wrist. A floating screen appears in front of him and he casually swipes his fingers across it. A second later, two steaming cups rise up out of counter. “This is a relaxing drink my people enjoy. Would you like to try?”
I nod eagerly. “I’ve been dying for a beer. It’s one of the relaxing drinks we enjoy on Earth.”
UrTak tenses. “We must get you a beer before you die,” he rasps.
“No, no,” I laugh. “It’s just a thing people say.”
He nods, then crosses over to the table, where we both sit. “Earth. That is your home?”
I nod as I take the copper cup from him. The steam smells like mint tea and grapefruit as it wafts over my face. “Yes,” I said. “Have you heard of it? Do you know how to get me back? Or is there some sort of organization here who can help me? Like a government or something?”
UrTak frowns. “I am sorry that I do not know how to get you back. You are welcome to meet with representatives from the High Council who are not me, but I am afraid they will not know the location of your home, either. Can you tell me what other star systems are in your trade network? In which of the galaxy’s arms do you reside?”