by Luna Hunter
The aliens eyes widen before they burst into laughter, their tentacles flapping about.
“Silly human,” the one on the left says. “You have no rights here. You are food.”
He licks his lips, his long, forked tongue sneaking out. His tentacles spread, revealing his two sharp fangs.
My cheeks are burning brightly. I know I ought to turn away, but I’m simply too worked up. “I have diplomatic immunity,” I bristle. “Touch me and you’ll rot in prison.”
“You have no idea where you are, or who I am, do you?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Enlighten me.”
His hand moves towards me, his thin fingers reaching out. I instantly feel a throbbing pain inside my head, like a freighter is trying to bore a hole into my skull. Just when the pain is becoming too great and I feel like fainting, I see a flash of red.
Thabo punches the Tyk’ix in the face and sends him flying through the window and into the apothecary. He’s knocked out cold by the many pots and glasses landing on top of him, the shattering of glass creating a cacophony of sound.
“Leave,” Thabo growls at the other Tyk’ix. He scurries off as fast as he can. If he had a tail, it would be tucked between his legs.
“Are you okay?” the Zoran asks, taking me into his arms.
I’m still light-headed, and being in Thabo’s strong, manly grasp is only making my knees weaker. He scoops me up and carries me off, his thumb brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. A crowd is starting to gather, and Thabo pushes his way through it.
“Wh-where’s Michelle?”
“She struck up a conversation with a Falur warrior, and I couldn’t get her out of there short of carrying her.”
“Shouldn’t you go back and get her?”
“You’re in more need of my help. Falur are not so bad – they won’t try to scoop her brains out, like those Tyk’ix you were getting close to. What were you thinking? I told you to stay put!”
“Sc-scoop brains out?”
“What do you think those tentacles are for?”
“Oh god,” I say with a shudder. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Hold on, we’re almost topside.”
Thabo ducks into a maintenance hallway, avoiding the crowded main-hall, and carries me up several flights of stairs. When we arrive on the top-level of the Observer, my breath falters.
The view through the transparent walls is spectacular. Breath-taking.
The station is shaped like a ring and it hovers high above Xia V. The purple planet with its teal seas is visible in all its splendor, and for a second, I’m in awe.
Thabo lowers me down to my feet, his arm still wrapped tightly around my waist. I lean into him, not wanting him to leave my side for even a second. When he’s around I feel perfectly safe.
“This is much better than the lower levels,” Thabo says. “It’s the same as any station. The levels around the docks are filled with swindlers, thieves and dealers. In the throng it’s easy to disappear. Come, let’s go to the Presidium level.”
He’s right – it is much nicer here. There’s much more open space, with trees planted all around us. I don’t even like I’m on a space station anymore. Thabo finds us a table at a small bistro on the government level, on the edge of a pond. It’s almost romantic. He orders us both a drink, and the Tyk’ix waiter delivers them instantly. Luckily this one is not plotting the destruction of all man-kind.
“Thank you,” I say as I sip on my drink. I can’t pronounce its name for the life of me, but it’s sweet and pleasant, like a white wine. “For saving my life.”
He nods. “What did those beasts want?”
“They wanted to…” I swallow the lump in my throat. It’s so outlandish, it’s hard to even say out loud. “They were saying humanity should be destroyed.”
“Not everyone is happy you’re here,” Thabo says. “I warned you about the Intergalactic Alliance from the start. It’s a hornets nest, so many species all packed together, each with their own agendas. Some consider humanity a threat.”
“I don’t understand. How could anyone think that?”
Thabo smirks at me. “Jillian Archer is your answer. She mated with King Vinz, and the rest is history. Our people are linked now. Our enemies have become yours.”
Who thought one girl’s love for a Zoran could alter the course of human history? I wonder if Jillian realizes how important she is, how her actions influenced the fate of all mankind.
When I first heard about her and Vinz, I admit I was disappointed. Such a smart, talented scientist – and she hooks up with a Zoran? A born warrior? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Didn’t she want someone who was on her own level?
I feel guilty about those thoughts now, as I sit across from Thabo. I’m starting to understand her more and more with each passing second. My finger runs circles on the rim of my glass as I look at the fire-skinned barbarian in front of me.
Yes, Thabo is everything I’m not. He’s a fighter, a trained killer, a big, strong hunk. But, we have more in common than I thought when I first met him. He’s headstrong, loyal, fiercely protective.
And he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I can’t tear my eyes away from him. From his chiseled jaw to his sunset-colored eyes, he’s perfect in every way.
I reach across the table and lay my hand upon his. His palm is nearly twice the size of mine, and our fingers interlock. I know that with Thabo around, I’m safe.
“Do you regret coming here?”
“No,” I answer. “Even if our mission fails and the Alliance rejects our proposal, we still made a difference. We took the first step. That’s got to mean something, right?”
Thabo nods. “How is your father?”
I’m surprised he remembers. “He’s fine,” I say. “Under the circumstances, at least. His condition is stable. He worked as a mechanic his whole life, saving up money so I could go to college. I want to repay him for all he’s done with me, but I don’t even know where to start. What about you, do you want to talk about your history?” I try gently. Last time I mentioned his father, he stormed off and spent five days in his private quarters.
His eyebrows furrow instantly – and damn if it isn’t sexy.
“You don’t have to,” I say. “But last time you sounded like you wanted to get something off your chest.”
“That’s not the Zoran way,” he growls.
“But it is the human way,” I say. “Like you said, our species are now linked. So look inside, find your inner-human, and tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” he says, running his hand across his smooth scalp. He downs his drink with one gulp. “My father, Thanos, was a troubled man.”
I sit up straight, hanging to his every word. Is he finally going to open up to me?
“Like I said, he was the best damn warrior around. A living, breathing legend. And still, he wasn’t satisfied. Nothing was good enough. If he received even a single blow during a fight, he considered himself a failure. He didn’t tolerate anything less than perfection.”
“Sounds tiring.”
“You have no idea. He drilled us – me and my brother – harder than any Zoran alive. He lived for the battle. We never had a choice in the matter. We had to follow in his footsteps.”
“You didn’t want to be a warrior?” I ask. “I thought all Zorans are fighters.”
“There are healers and scholars as well, just like on Earth, but everyone has some training in the art of combat. I never even thought about being anything but a warrior. I was drilled from day one with one purpose: cementing our clan’s name in Zoran’s history.”
“But why? You said your father was a legend in his own right.”
“That he was, but there was one thing that frustrated him: he never got to fight in a major war, and earn his place in history. The last few decades have been relatively peaceful. Yes, we’ve had our skirmishes with the Ygg, and there was the revolution that outed the High
Command and the emperor, but all things considered, there was relatively little bloodshed. Nothing compared to the wars we’ve fought in the past. Nothing compared to the Great Uprising.”
“What’s that?” I ask. “I haven’t heard of that term before.”
Thabo stares into his empty glass, avoiding my inquisitive eyes.
“I’m not surprised. Zorans don’t talk about it to outsiders, as it brings shame onto our species, but it’s all father ever talked about. According to the legends, the Zorans were enslaved. I’m talking ten thousand years ago, if not more. We were nothing but nameless thralls, without culture, without language, bred for the purpose of working ourselves to death. Our lives were brutish and short.”
“That’s awful,” I gasp. “Why have I never heard of this?”
“Have you ever met a Zoran?” Thabo says, a cocky smirk appearing on that chiseled face of his. “We pride ourselves on our independence, our strength. Most choose to look forward, though we all carry a piece of that history with us, for it was a man who named himself Zoran who was the first to rise, cast off his bonds, and lead our people to freedom. We adopted his name as our own.”
“Who enslaved you? Who could do such an awful thing?”
Thabo shrugs. “No one knows. It was thousands of years ago, we didn’t possess the technology we have today. No sources remain. Some say it’s just a legend, that it never happened. My father was convinced it was true, though. And he wasn’t satisfied until the name Thanos meant as much as the name Zoran.”
I grab and squeeze Thabo’s hand. He glances up, his eyes vulnerable. Wounded, even.
“When he couldn’t achieve that fame, he set out to make me and my brother, Mirko, even better warriors than him. We ended up paying the ultimate price.”
He exhales a large breath, glancing out the window at the purple marble that is Xia V. “That’s it for now. We should head back to the ship, and find Michelle.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I say. “I’m honored you trust me.”
He avoids my eyes, and I can almost feel the pain radiating from him. I don’t know what happened with him and his brother, but I sense it’s something terrible. I feel bad for the snap-judgement I made when I met him; I thought him a one-dimensional warrior at first, but there’s a lot more brooding underneath the surface.
I slide my arm around his waist as we walk back to the ship, resting my head against the side of his chest. I couldn’t have imagined this a week ago, but I’m happy to have him by my side.
8
Thabo
“How do I look?” Riley asks as she twirls in front of me.
Good enough to eat.
I want nothing more than to rip that gorgeous dress from her curvy body and fuck her senseless, but I have to control myself. The delegates are waiting.
Also Michelle is standing right next to us, watching us like a hawk.
“What happened between you two yesterday?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Riley snaps, her cheeks already growing red. “Nothing happened.”
“You’ve been smiling all day,” she says. “Something’s up.”
“If you didn’t get drunk at a Falur bar, you could have seen it for yourself.”
I had to carry Michelle home yesterday – she had filled herself with the strongest Falur liquor on station, and by the end of the night, she was convinced she herself had wings and could fly. The Falur were all grinning and watching her jump off the bar and flap her arms. If we didn’t get there in time, she might have hurt herself. Now, only her ego was wounded.
“Seen what for myself?” Michelle asks.
“Nothing,” Riley insists. “Drop it. Where’s Orson, anyway? I haven’t seen him all morning.”
“I’ll go check.”
I head down towards the men’s quarters. I don’t mind being away from Michelle’s prying eyes for a moment. The way she stares at me, with those big blue diamonds of hers – it’s like she’s trying to read my mind. I already opened up more to Riley than I’ve ever done in my life, I’m not looking for a second human female.
Riley is more than enough for me.
“Men,” I say as I knock on the door. “You’re late.”
No response. The meeting at the Hall of Perpetual Peace is only half an hour away, and Tyk’ix do not like to wait. “DuPont?”
I open the door to find the room abandoned.
Hm.
“They’re not here.”
Riley’s big, brown eyes go wide. “Wh-wh-what,” she stammers. “What do you mean?”
“I mean they’re not here. I just checked the video logs; they didn’t come in last night.”
“Oh shit,” Michelle curses.
“Th-this is bad,” Riley says. “This is really bad! What do we do? Can we cancel? Where are they? Should we, I don’t know, argh!”
I grab her shoulders firmly, bending my knees to look her straight in the eyes.
“Calm. Down.”
She takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth, and regains a semblance of composure.
“They’re probably sleeping off their hangovers in a dingy bar somewhere. It doesn’t matter. We have a meeting to attend,” I say.
“Wh-what are you talking about?” she stammers. “DuPont is the minister, it’s his job, he’s the only who has the mandate to…”
“That may be true, but he’s not here right now, and the Alliance doesn’t wait. You’ll have to take his place.”
“Me?”
Riley’s face becomes as white as a sheet at the prospect of officially representing all of mankind in front of a galactic council.
“Why can’t we just go home?” she tries. “You yourself said the Alliance is a waste of time!”
“I did, but you convinced me otherwise.”
A white lie. I still don’t think they need the Alliance, but I’m starting to see why Vinz mated with a human. I know how important this meeting is to Riley, so she’s going there – I’ll carry her myself if I have to.
I wouldn’t mind that, actually.
“Let’s go,” I growl. “They’re waiting for us.”
“Wh-what about Michelle?”
“No no no,” Michelle says. “I don’t know anything about anyone of those species! You’re miss perfect, you do it!”
“You’ll do fine,” I say as I gently push Riley out the door. She struggles the entire way up to the Presidium level, her knuckles turned white from grabbing my arms so hard. However, we’re going there, whether she wants to or not.
The Hall of Perpetual Peace dooms up in front of us. The large, sleek, rectangular building looms over the Presidium level. It’s the largest building on the entire Observer. The streets are buzzing with activity, and I overhear hushed voices all around us as I plow our way through the crowd.
A bronzed statue of a Tyk’ix a Falur and a Melek all together stands in front of the entrance. Hard to imagine a human, or Zora forbid, a Zoran standing alongside them, but right now, we’re about to take the first step.
“Is there a general assembly or something?” Michelle whispers. “It’s so busy!”
“N-no,” Riley stammers. “It’s a small council meeting, just a few dignitaries.”
“Seems those plans have changed,” I say as I nod towards the second level. A long-line of hover-cars with diplomatic license-plates are dropping off one ambassador after another.
“I’m going to be sick,” Riley groans.
“You’ll be fine,” I say.
A gruff Falur stops us from entering the Hall. His hair is long and black, reaching down past his shoulders, and scars mark his battle-worn face.
“Diplomats only.”
“We’re here for the meeting,” I growl.
“Diplomats only,” he says again, baring his fangs this time.
I shove him, and several other Falur appear out of nowhere, carrying large halberds.
“What’s the cause of this disturbance, citizen?”
> “How many Zorans and humans do you think live here, dragon?” I say. “Let us enter. We’re late.”
The Falur pulls up his data-pad. “According to my files, I’m only to let a certain Orson DuPont enter.”
“He’s not here. We’re taking his place.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“Hold on, I recognize you from the bar. Halfurd, was it?” Michelle pipes in.
The Falur’s angry grimace disappears instantly and is replaced by a warm smile. “Mich-elle, is that you?”
“It is I,” she answers with a short bow. “Could you let us in?”
The dragon-like man frowns. “I’m not supposed to… but you do look like diplomats. Well, the females at least.”
If my stare could kill, the smart-mouthed Falur would be long gone.
“Thanks,” Michelle says as she kisses the man on his cheek. Is that a blush I see?
“See, I told you my drinking would pay off,” she says with a smirk.
Riley rolls her eyes. “Do you know every single Falur in the city now, after only one night of partying?”
“Only the ones that matter.”
We follow the flowing red carpet that leads us into a grand hall. The walls and ceiling are decorated with intricate murals, showing off the history of all the Alliance species. The parts of history they’re proud of. I doubt it shows the times the Alliance raided Zoran transports, or how they deserted us in the war against the Ygg…
As King Vinz would say, it’s a new dawn. We’re here to move forward. I push these angry thoughts from my mind and focus on the task at hand: Getting Riley where she needs to be.
“You’re late,” a Tyk’ix mutters. He’s got the same yellow-robes on as the ambassador who ‘welcomed’ us onboard the Observer. “Where’s DuPont?”
“He couldn’t make it,” I say.
“I’m taking his place,” Riley says, smoothing her dress with her hands. She bows politely. “If it pleases the Alliance.”
The purple alien rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Follow me.” He snaps his fingers and storms off, and we have to walk fast to keep up. I’m surprised at the briskness with which the Tyk’ix moves. He guides us up a few flight of stairs, through some hallways, and then suddenly stops in front of a door.