Novak (Scifi Alien Romance) (Galactic Mates)

by Luna Hunter

  Whatever his lustful blue mind desires.

  “Really, I’m fine, thank you. I think I just need a shower.”

  “Alright,” Cindy answers. “Luckily, you have a private shower; it’s right there.”

  “Thank you, Cin… wait… I do?”

  “Yes,” my assistant says with a nod. She points at the door at the far end of the room. “Right there.”

  I glance around the room. It’s only now starting to dawn on me that I’ve never seen this room before in my life. And this isn’t the infirmary either. The slope of the ceiling, the cool color of the walls, the height and width of the doors… this isn’t a human vessel.

  “Wh-where are we?” I stammer.

  “On the Behemoth, of course,” Cindy says matter-of-factly. “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “I told you earlier, when you woke up, but I guess you weren’t as awake then as I thought you were. Sorry!”

  “It’s fine,” I say, growing more confused with the second. “Please explain again… very slowly.”

  “Okay. We’re on the Behemoth. A Zoran warship. Under the command of—”

  No. No no no. Don’t say—

  “General Novak.”

  Of course. I can’t escape that man.

  “Why?” I croak, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my true feelings.

  “We’re on our way to Audur. Novak is leading an investigation into what happened to the Andromeda. We form the human part of the investigation, and ambassador Jakob is on the ship as well, representing the Falurians. Though, I haven’t seen him around yet. Armed soldiers are posted outside his door. I don’t think Novak likes him a lot.”

  Jakob? The name vaguely rings a bell… ah, he was the man who goaded me into badmouthing Novak when he was standing right behind me. That guy.

  Okay, I kinda put my foot in my own mouth, I can’t blame it all on him, but he did look rather smug after the fact.

  “Does Riley know about this?”

  “Yes, I briefed the minister. She approved.”

  I grab Cindy’s hand. “You’re a lifesaver, Cindy. Thank you.”

  The young girl smiles from ear to ear. “I’m just happy you’re alive and well. I thought you were, you know…”

  “Dead?”

  She nods. “The ship just… exploded. You want to know the worst thing? When I saw that first ball of light, I thought it was some kind of hyper-jump or something, I thought it was all part of the show. I… I clapped. All those people died and I…”

  I grab her hand. “You couldn’t know, Cindy. You had no idea. It would have been impossible for you to know.”

  She looks at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I just feel so guilty and helpless.”

  “Oh, honey.” I hug her tightly. “You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty for, and you helped me immensely. I’m really happy to have you by my side. I couldn’t wish for a better assistant — or friend. Promise.”

  A sad smile forms on her lips.

  “Th-thank you,” she stammers. “That means… a lot to me. You’re the ambassador, I’m just…”

  “An ambassador is only as good as his assistant,” I tell her. “Which makes me the best damn ambassador around!”

  Finally I hear her produce a genuine laugh.

  “Now, I really need that shower, if that’s okay.”

  “O-of course!” she says.

  The moment Cindy leaves I breathe a giant sigh. That big blue warrior is somewhere inside this spaceship, and I’ll have to face him sooner or later. I suppose I ought to thank him for saving my life, but I’m a little afraid of being alone with him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself.

  Especially after my disturbing, highly erotic dream…

  8

  Novak

  “Sir, miss Coors is awake and feeling well, sir.”

  “Thank you, Petr. Dismissed.”

  My soldier salutes me and returns to his post. I’ve been studying the final readings from the Andromeda with Marko, trying to catch any small detail that might provide us with the clue we need to bust this case wide open.

  So far we’re coming up with nothing.

  Word of the incident has quickly spread throughout the galaxy, even though the entire project is classified. It’s already been discussed openly in the the general assembly of the Alliance. Those damn diplomats can’t keep their mouths shut. As far as I’m concerned there was no need for any of them; the Andromeda was a strictly military affair. In theory. In reality, everything is politics.

  And that’s the same reason why Michelle is on board, only a few levels below me. I wonder what she’s doing right now. I stationed Petr outside her door; whatever she does, I want to hear about it.

  “Why don’t you go see her?” Marko offers.

  My second-in-command is sitting across from me, swiping through his tablet, going over tables of data. His skin is red, his frame matching mine in width, though not in length. I’m one of the tallest, if not the tallest, Zoran around.

  “You obviously want to.”

  “We have work to do,” I say a bit too resolutely. “We can’t rest until we’ve found whatever caused the explosion.”

  “Please,” Marko says. “All this data is nonsense. Garbage. We don’t have enough of it. We barely know the damn specs of the thing. The only way we’re getting to the bottom of this is by questioning every single engineer, cross-examining all their statements, checking all the blueprints. This will take months. Years. Hell, if someone was cunning enough to sabotage this engine, they’re probably cunning enough to cover their tracks as well. With all due respect sir, we’re on a wild goose chase.”

  “And what will you have me do, Marko?! Nothing?!”

  I slam the table with my balled fist.

  “You think I don’t know that we’re on a wild goose chase?! Vojin died. For me! As long as I haven’t uncovered every last stone, as long as I haven’t sifted through every last piece of evidence I will live in shame. If that takes me the rest of my life; so be it.”

  Marko raises his hands defensively. “I understand, Novak, I really do. But holding yourself up in your quarters, staring at numbers that hold no secrets is not going to bring Vojin back. It’s not going to change a damn thing. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, for I value my own too much, but you clearly have some vested interest in this human female. Don’t look at me like that, I’m not judging you. All I’m saying is that you need a break. Take a walk. Go into the holo-deck. Play some low-g crossball. Give yourself a chance to unwind. You’ve been running on pure anger for three days straight now. You are our general, Novak. We’ll walk through fire for you, every one of us. You don’t have to prove yourself to us. We won’t judge.”

  I push my chair back, sighing deeply. My second-in-command is right. That’s why I’ve chosen him as my confidant. He always has my back, no matter what. I rub my temples, closing my eyes tightly. I can’t seem to shake the anger, the guilt, the madness. It’s like a dark cloud that hangs over me.

  And that’s without even taking my lustful feelings for the shapely human female into account.

  “You’re right,” I say. “You’re right.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Marko says, “and go through this data. Again. You go unwind, and don’t come back until you’ve cleared your mind. That’s an order, sir,” he says with a grin.

  “Sir yes sir,” I laugh.

  I stand up, stretch my legs, and wander into the hall. Where should I go? I never walk around without a purpose. As a general, I always have a duty, I always have a goal in mind. I’m focused. I am precise. I know what I want and I take it.

  I know what I want. She’s on this ship.

  I can go to the holo-deck and visit my old hometown, or see some of the Great Sights — the Gardens of Silivia, the Statues of Birmin, the Great Barrier of Thachonka. I haven’t done that in years. Completing a full tour of them has always been on my to-do list.

&nb
sp; I could play some low-g crossball. When I was in the military academy I was, for a brief moment, ranked #1 in my age group. I could’ve gone pro, but I prefer the life of a warrior. Still, there’s nothing quite like getting lost in the game, in the passion, when time seems to slow down, when all sounds around you disappear and you are completely focused.

  I consider my options, wandering through the halls of my ship without a purpose, when I suddenly find myself outside Michelle’s quarters. My subconscious must have guided me here.

  “Sir,” Petr says, saluting me. “Miss Coors is in her room.”

  Perhaps I ought to follow Marko’s advice, and see where this path leads me.

  “Thank you, soldier,” I say. “Dismissed.”

  The door slides open for me and I enter. I assigned Michelle one of the better rooms on the ship, designed to host the top military brass. Not like that govno Jakob, who has armed guards stationed outside his door to keep him in check. To say I’ve locked him up would be a stretch, but not by much.

  Her bed is unmade, a hastily thrown together suitcase full of clothes lies open, her garments spread all over the room. The door to the bathroom opens, and Michelle freezes dead in her tracks, a towel clutched around her naked body.

  “Uhh,” she stammers. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  I can’t help but drink in the beautiful, magnificent sight in front of me. Drops of water cling to Michelle’s naked, pale shoulders, slowly dripping down, begging for me to follow their trajectory. Her blonde hair is wet and bundled up in a towel, a few strands hanging down, framing her face like a painting.

  I feel the blood rushing down to my cock, the now-familiar hunger taking hold of me, but this time I’m wearing my obsidian armor, so my cock is constrained.

  For now.

  “I came to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m fine, thank you,” she answers, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Her bright blue eyes flutter up to me and then glance away, time and time again, a red blush forming on her cheeks.

  “I’d like to give you a tour of the ship,” I find myself saying. “And discuss the investigation.”

  “O-okay,” Michelle answers. “Can I get dressed first?”

  No. You are perfect the way you are now — naked. Available. Ready.

  “Yes,” I say, swallowing the urge to rip that towel off her body and slam myself into her against the wall. “I will wait outside.”

  Twenty minutes later Michelle joins me. She’s wearing black heels and a black pinstripe skirt that hugs her curves in all the right places. My eyes drift upward, from her long legs and shapely thighs to her full, round breasts, straining against the fabric of her shirt.

  Resisting my urges is becoming harder by the minute.

  9

  Michelle

  “I hope this tour goes better than the last one,” I say as I meet Novak outside. “Sorry, was that too soon?”

  Novak looks at me stunned for a moment before bursting out into laughter. I don’t think I’ve seen the gruff warrior do as much as smile since I met him — most of the time his eyes have been shooting me daggers — so it’s a welcome change. His rich, low voice echoes down the hall.

  He wipes a tear away, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

  “You are a strange one,” he says. “Is this your famed human humor?”

  I’ve been known for a lot of things — sass being the most prominent one, with sarcasm a close second, but I can’t recall any guy ever complementing me on my sense of humor. I’ll take it, especially from this tough-as-nails general.

  “There’s more where that came from,” I lie.

  I have no idea what makes him tick if I’m perfectly honest, but it beats him scowling and frowning the entire time. Even though that sexy frown and low angry growly voice of his makes my knees weak.

  “What did you want to show me?”

  “Hm,” Novak grunts, stalling, as if he hadn’t given it a moment’s thought. “What do you want to see?”

  “I don’t know, it’s your ship, I just woke up here!”

  “True. Follow me, then.”

  Novak guides me through the long halls, explaining the history of the Behemoth. I have to hurry to keep up with him, for I need to take two steps for every one of his. I instantly regret slipping on my heels, but for some unearthly reason I felt the need to impress him.

  The ship is different than I imagined it would be. I expected a spartan, sparsely decorated ship, with nothing but warriors doing push-ups all day. Instead, the ship is more like a tiny city. There’s a state-of-the-art infirmary, a chemical and biological research station, and many different places to unwind; restaurants, gyms, and even shops!

  Novak grabs me a cup of coffee and we drink it while leaning against a railing, overlooking the level below where Zoran men and women are going about their daily business. If I didn’t know I was on a warship I would have sworn I was in an elite alien shopping mall.

  “You sure you got the human version for me?” I ask, looking at the cup of black goodness.

  “Of course,” Novak says. “One inferior, barely caffeinated cup for you.”

  “Hey! Just because we can’t handle 48 shots of espresso in a single cup doesn’t make us inferior, you know.”

  Novak raises his eyebrows. “You sure about that? Sounds quite inferior to me.”

  “So your stomach can handle stuff, big whoop,” I say. “I can handle things too, you know.”

  My eyes flicker down to what is between his legs for only an instant.

  Like your cock, for example.

  “Really now?”

  “Uh huh,” I say, my cheeks tinted rosy. “Anyway… I thought that was a warship. What’s with all the shops, the restaurants, the gyms?”

  “This is a warship,” Novak says. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Below this level is the armory, with countless state-of-the-art weapons. Every single person you see here is an expert marksman and skilled at hand-to-hand combat. They are lethal. They are deadly. But, you are not wrong. The Behemoth is rather unusual, even for Zoran standards. I believe that a happy, relaxed warrior is an effective one. This place,” he says, gesturing all around him, “is good for morale.”

  “So that’s all this is to you?” I ask, taking a sip of coffee. Damn, it’s the good stuff, too. “You’re just interested in morale, in warriors, in making your men effective killing machines?”

  Novak crosses his arms. “I am a general, Michelle. It is my job, my duty to make sure that my warriors are the strongest they can be. You, as an ambassador, should acknowledge the importance of a powerful military. Without the Zoran to protect you, who knows where humanity might be? The universe is a terrifying place.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “A casual observation, nothing more.”

  “If all you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like nails.”

  Novak bunches his eyebrows. “Where is this hammer?”

  “It’s a human saying. What I mean is… if you focus everything on our army, then you are more likely to use military solutions. I don’t think war is glamorous. People die. Families are torn apart. We should be focusing on intercultural exchanges, not building new and deadlier weapons.”

  “Ah,” Novak says. “So you too oppose the Andromeda Project, I imagine.”

  Damn. Did I tell him too much?

  “Not as vocally as you,” I say. “And not for the same reasons, either.”

  “Yes, well, despite what either of us wanted, the project is our main concern now. We’ll arrive at Audur in several days time. But we can discuss that later; come. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Novak grabs my hand and leads me away, sending a jolt through my body. His touch is firm, but pleasant. I follow him as he takes me down the stairs and to the left.

  “Are you familiar with crossball?”

  “Crosswhat?”

  “It’s a Zoran sport, played in very low gravity, close
to zero. Come.”

  A door whizzes open and we enter a dimly lit hall. There’s several rooms to either side of us. Novak opens one of the doors — it’s big and metallic. He urges me to step into the room, and I follow his command.

  Novak seals the door behind us, turning the wheel, as if we were on a submarine, until it’s hermetically sealed. The room is the size of half a tennis court, with several lines drawn across the wooden floor.

  I realize with a jolt that I’m all alone with the Zoran general — and he just locked the door behind us. He can really do whatever he wants with me there, and there is nothing I can do stop him. If he wants to overpower me with brute force then…

  “Are you ready?” Novak asks.

  “For what exactly?”

  “You’ll see,” he says with a devious smile. “Computer, engage crossball.”

  A hole in the ceiling opens and a red ball drops down. Moments later I hear a hum, and then, something nearly indescribable happens. I feel weightless, as light as a feather. I look at Novak with a shocked look, my mouth hanging open.

  He grins back at me. “Nice, huh? Try to jump.”

  I jump — and scream out as I rise from the floor, six feet up! I float down towards the floor, as gentle as a summer breeze.

  “W-what the—!” is all I can muster.

  “0.1 g, compared to Exon Prime,” he says.

  Novak focuses and jumps up with a blast, flying up into the air. He whirls around in mid-air and lands with his feet planted firmly on the ceiling. He them pushes off again, flips, and lands back on his feet.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Years of practice,” he says. “Crossball is easy to touch but impossible to master.”

  He bounces the red ball off the hardwood floor.

  “You ready for your first game?”

  “What are the exact rules?” I ask as I slip out of my heels. I don’t want to be jumping in those! I throw them at the corner but they just float away.

  “We’ll be playing the Tyrian variant for the moment. The object of the game is to hit the other player with this ball,” he says as he throws it at me. I catch it. It’s soft and fluffy.

  “Ah, like dodgeball.”

  “However, the ball must strike the ground or the wall first. We’ll just be using the side-wall for, for now.”