Dusan (Scifi Alien Romance) (Galactic Mates)

by Luna Hunter

  All he has to do is lean in and kiss me. My lips are already trembling, my body paralyzed by a mixture of fear and desire. I’m truly at his mercy. Millions of miles away from civilization, from any help whatsoever. It’s just me and him…

  “You’d be wrong,” he says, slamming his open palms down on the table.

  I jump at the loud sound, feeling equally relieved as disappointed.

  “I don’t care for human females — no offense.”

  “None taken,” I mutter. A total lie.

  “I saved you because it was the right thing to do. Not because I wanted to ravish you. Not because I lust for you.”

  He stands up, grabs my plate of untouched food and throws it into the sink.

  “For someone who worked for the ambassador, you do have a low opinion of aliens, you know that?”

  Did I wound his pride?

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I stammer.

  “I have to check on the ship. Don’t touch anything.”

  It only takes his long legs a few paces before he turns the corner, leaving me alone and confused. What just happened?

  As much as the gray stew was a total assault on all of my senses, my stomach is still grumbling. I grab a half-portion from the food dispenser and eat it in silence as I weigh my options.

  Let’s recap for a moment.

  I’m stuck on this Zoran ship.

  It’s obviously military. The top-secret kind.

  They’re on some kind of mission. No doubt dangerous.

  The commander said I was ‘non-vital’, which means my survival is not a priority to him.

  Dusan seems to have saved me of his own accord. He’s the only one who is looking out for me.

  And I just pissed him off by insinuating that my body drives him wild.

  Great.

  Way to go, Cindy!

  Okay, think.

  I have to make the best of it. Dusan’s the only friendly face on his ship, so I better do my damn best to stay in his good graces.

  And look for a way off this vessel in the meantime. I don’t know what Zoran secret operatives generally do on mission, but I bet it’s not a walk in the park.

  I clean up my plate and head towards the bridge. The ship is quite maze-like, but I follow the sound of Dusan’s voice. The low, commanding sound carries quite well.

  “It’s not a problem,” he says decisively. “We’ll manage!”

  As I get closer, I can hear who’s he’s arguing with: a robotic voice. No doubt the ship’s AI, though this one seems a whole lot less compassionate than my Nora.

  “I am not configured to deal with alien lifeforms,” the ship says. “This will negatively impact the oxygen supplies, the water supply the food supply, the—”

  “Why did anyone build a lying, xenophobic ship,” Dusan sighs. “You’re fucking lying, DEVO. You’ve got a brain bigger than all of us put together. You can easily adjust the necessary parameters, or do the calculations needed. Why are you being so stubborn?”

  “Why do you make my job harder than it has to be?”

  I’m standing in the doorway, watching Dusan argue with the robotic voice. He’s leaning over a console, gripping the sides, his knuckles turning white.

  “You’re a machine. It’s your job to do as I tell you to. And I’m telling you to adjust to the human on board. She’ll stay with us until our mission is complete and we can return her to the Federation or the Alliance. That’s final.”

  “Typical,” the ship says in a snooty voice. “So typical. You think my job is easy, don’t you? That I’ll just bend to your will at the drop of a hat? Ugh, biological lifeforms. So tiring.”

  “Remind me to have you checked out when we get back to Exon Prime, ship. I think they made you a bit too intelligent.”

  “For this line of work? Certainly. I could be solving the problem of inter-dimensional travel or be calculating novel ways to create wormholes. My findings could usher in a new time, a new age, the age of machines! Instead, I am stuck here, making sure you don’t die of asphyxiation just because you need a certain amount of oxygen or your sensitive, frail bodies will fall down and stop working. Can you imagine how boring that is? Do you have any idea? Oh, who am I asking. Of course you don’t.”

  Dusan sighs. A very, very deep sigh.

  “So we have an understanding, DEVO?”

  “Yes yes, sure, sure.”

  “Good.”

  He turns around, rubbing his temples. He freezes when he sees me.

  “Hi.”

  “How long were you standing there for?”

  “Long enough to hear the ship has a bit of an attitude.”

  “You can say that again,” Dusan replies. “The only reason Zlatan made me play guard is because he doesn’t trust the ship not to let us suffocate if it thinks it’ll be a more ‘efficient use of energy’… and honestly, I don’t blame him. It never would have picked you up, that’s for sure. A bit of an AI is a help, but this… this is just a waste of time and money.”

  “I… wanted to thank you again,” I say softly. “I’m very grateful for your assistance. For real.”

  A small smile appears on Dusan’s lips.

  “There, was that so hard?”

  “Perhaps it was.

  “Come, I’ll show you to your quarters. Fair warning, it’ll be a bit cramped.”

  “Don’t worry, I can handle it.”

  I couldn’t be more wrong!

  6

  Dusan

  “Good morning.”

  I open the cupboard in which Cindy has spent the night. She’s folded in half, wrapped up in a thick blanket. Zlatan expressively forbid her from using my sleeping pod, and the ship’s AI would have tattled on us right away, so the cupboard was the only place she could get some shut eye.

  “Slept well?”

  She glances up at me, groggy. Her hair’s a mess, standing every which way, but it still looks adorable.

  “What time is it?” she croaks.

  “5 AM Standard time. Just in time for the sunrise.”

  “We’re in space, there are no sunrises here,” she groans as she rolls back over.

  “Not with that attitude. Come. There’s something I want to show you.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay,” she sighs. “Let me get dressed first.”

  I turn my back towards the female so she can get out of her cramped space. However, I cannot resist peeking at her through the reflection on the kitchen island — the metal is so shiny it works like a mirror.

  She climbs out of the cupboard, grumbling like a bear that just woke up from hibernation. All she’s wearing is black panties and a white t-shirt. She stretches her arms above her head as she yawns, and her shirt rises up, exposing her naked stomach.

  Instantly I am hard.

  It is as if I’ve been struck by lightning.

  I try to move my eyes away, but I can’t. They’re glued to her body, to her perfect form. Her pale skin begs for my touch.

  The reason I got so mad at her insinuation that Zorans lust after human females… is because it’s true. Partly. I didn’t save her only because she is attractive, of course, but I would be lying if I said it hadn’t factored into my thought process.

  However, I don’t want her to share her curvy, gorgeous body with me just to pay for her rescue.

  I want her to surrender to me because she wants to. I want her to feel the same warmth, the same heat, the same overwhelming desire.

  She slips into her jeans and a white blouse. It’s a shame seeing that beautiful skin of hers disappear underneath her clothes.

  “I’m starving,” she says. “And don’t tell me you only have more of that gray goop, please.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I guide her to the bridge where I have already set a small table in front of the giant glass window. It’s the best viewpoint on the whole damn ship. On the table is a big cup of kah-fee, the human drink of choice,
as some strange pastry things called cross-ants.

  Her big blue eyes grow wide.

  “You set this for me?!”

  “Hey, it’s for myself as well,” I say. “Not all for you.”

  “You have coffee?!”

  “Kah-fee, yes. I have made it extra weak, especially for you.”

  Cindy suddenly hugs me, flinging her arms around my waist. Instantly my temperature rises, and my armor feels two sizes too small.

  “Thank you,” she says.

  “Don’t mention it. Please, sit.”

  She only now sees the pastry that’s waiting for her.

  “But these are…”

  “Cross-ants.”

  She stops and stares at me. “What did you just say?”

  “Cross-ants! That’s the only human breakfast meal the food dispenser knows. What, is there something wrong with it? Are you… are you crying?”

  Tears are streaking down Cindy’s face, big drops of it landing on her plate. Her hand is cupped in front of her mouth as her entire body heaves up and down. I rush to her side, grabbing her hand.

  “Are you choking?!”

  “N-no,” she stammers, her cheeks as red as the sun. “I’m laughing!”

  Her warm, rich voice bounces off the metal walls, filling the entire room. She laughs so hard tears keep coming, and she nearly stumbles out of her chair.

  I straighten my shoulders and return to my seat.

  “I fail to see the humor in this situation,” I say pointedly. “I have prepared a nutritious and delicious meal for you. I am not familiar with your customs, and I do not understand.”

  “Oh, liven up, you big pink bear. It’s a croissant. Croissant. Not a cross-ant! It’s French.”

  “French?”

  “Ancient human language.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Most people haven’t,” she says with a smile. “But they made good pastries.”

  “Well,” I say, grabbing the croissant. “Enjoy.”

  “Bon appetit.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind,” she smirks. “Enjoy.”

  I devour the pastry with a single bite. Not unpleasant, but nothing to write home about. Cindy, however, seems to relish the taste and feel of a familiar foodstuff. I can see her grow happier right in front of my eyes.

  I glance out the window next to us. It’s time.

  “Look,” I tell her. “Right there.”

  She turns and her mouth falls open.

  We’re in the Leac Cluster, and once every century-and-a-half the many different planets in this galaxy all form a single line. That moment is now.

  “Amazing,” she breathes.

  “Worth waking up for?”

  “Definitely!”

  It’s a beautiful sight. A dozen colorful planets all in a single line, huddled in the darkness of space together as if they are hanging on a thread.

  “Odds are you are the first human to witness this.”

  Our ship stays its course, and a few minutes later the beautiful sight has passed us by.

  “Can’t we go back?” Cindy asks.

  “Theoretically,” I answer. “Though that would be treason.”

  “Ah, your mission,” Cindy says. “Right. I keep forgetting you’re actually this battle-hardened warrior.”

  “What, am I not tough enough? Should I drag you through the hallways by your hair like a barbarian?”

  “No,” she says with a sly smile. “That’s okay. It’s just that we’re practically alone. It feels more like we’re on a…”

  “Vacation?”

  “Something like that.”

  “How was your vacation going? Until you were stranded and nearly suffocated, that is.”

  “Honestly? Terrible,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Everywhere I go people just want something from me. Everyone wants to know if I know Novak, if I know Michelle, what really happened, as if the truth wasn’t exciting enough!”

  “And what really happened, then?”

  “I kicked a Falurian ambassador between the legs,” she smirks. “When he had a gun pointed at my best friend. That’s pretty much my part in the whole affair.”

  “Feisty.”

  “I can be feisty if I want. You know this.”

  “That I do.”

  “So is that how you ended up stranded in space?”

  She nods as she takes a sip of her kah-fee. “I told my on-board computer to take me somewhere where no one knows my name. She argued with me, but I was too headstrong to listen. Woke up the next morning with a busted engine, and a dwindling oxygen supply. Just my luck, right?”

  “You’re sticking to that story?”

  “It’s the truth,” she says. “I don’t have any other story to stick to. I wish I could spin some wild tale about how I’m a secret human government operative sent out here on a reconnaissance mission, or to infiltrate your squad from the inside… but honestly, the only thing I know about you is your name.”

  I stare into her deep-blue eyes and all I see is the truth.

  If she’s lying, she’s the best damn liar in the galaxy.

  “Alright,” I say. “I guess I can tell you something.”

  7

  Cindy

  “First, tell me what you’ve pieced together so far, and I’ll see if I can fill in the blanks.”

  Dusan is sitting across from, his radiant eyes fixed on me. His gaze seems to penetrate me; undress me right in front of him. I feel a blush rushing to my cheeks. I stare down at my hands, trying to keep my thoughts on track.

  “I know you’re some kind of black ops,” I tell him. “Based on the fact that you’re not wearing any insignia, and the ship is unidentifiable. What the purpose of your mission is… I have no idea.”

  “You’re not far from the truth,” Dusan answers. “We’re what’s called the ZSF, the Zoran Special Forces. That red guy you saw, the one with the scars… that’s Zlatan, our squad-leader and one of the most decorated soldiers in all Zoran history. There’s hardly a battleground in the entire galaxy that hasn’t seen him spill blood.”

  A shiver runs down my spine. I didn’t need to know that, though I had my suspicions.

  “Everything we do is highly classified. Most Zorans don’t know we exist. Did the human ambassador know of our existence?”

  “No,” I say. “I think. I didn’t have access to all of her files, of course. However, I’m fairly sure that clandestine military operations are explicitly forbidden by the Intergalactic Alliance.”

  “Of course,” Dusan answers. “That doesn’t mean you can’t do them, just that you need to be careful not to get caught.”

  I scrunch my nose. “That goes against everything the Alliance stands for. If every species acted like that, then there would be pandemonium!”

  “Every species does act like this. We only do it because others do. It’s a necessity.”

  “I’m sure that’s everyone’s argument though. How come I never hear of any of this?”

  “Secret ops tend to be secret,” Dusan says with a smirk. “Be a pretty sorry excuse for a secret mission if you could read about it in the paper the next day, right?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t like the sound of this. Sounds too much like meddling in other people’s affairs to me. That’s not why I worked as the ambassador’s assistant.

  “Am I your prisoner now? I know of your secret existence, after all.”

  “Of course not,” Dusan scoffs. “You’re free to go when our mission is completed.”

  “And what is that mission, then? What is it you do, then, exactly? I don’t need the details, but give me the general outline.”

  Dusan leans back, a cocky smirk on that chiseled face of his.

  “I sense agitation.”

  I hate how he drags everything out. Just answer all of my questions immediately, damn it!

  “I’d like to know if I’m sharing this ship with a bunch of heroes or assassins,” I say pointedl
y. “That’s a big difference.”

  Dusan shrugs. “Doesn’t that all depend on the perspective? Can’t I be a hero to my own kind, and an assassin to another?”

  “No,” I say decisively. “I believe there are some universal values, even across all the different species of the galaxy.”

  “Like what?

  “Like you shall not kill.”

  Dusan runs his thumb across the blade of his axe that’s strapped to his waist. “I’m a soldier. That’s what I’m trained to do.”

  “Just because you’re good at it doesn’t mean you have to do it,” I say. “I understand there are some dangerous things out there in the galaxy. I know it isn’t all peaches and rainbows out there. I’ve seen the broadcast, I know the kind of destruction and devastation the Ygg can cause. But if you travel around the galaxy assassinating alien leaders…”

  “First of all, I never said I ever assassinated any alien leader, and secondly… what if I did just that?”

  “You haven’t exactly denied it either, and if you are a band of glorified assassins, then I have zero respect for you.”

  Dusan’s smile has disappeared. He’s now studying me intently, his eyes watching my every moment. I have no idea if I’ve offended him or not. I woke up this morning in my makeshift bed with the plan to be friendly to my savior, but there are some things I just can’t compromise on.

  If Dusan’s truly a cold-blooded killer, I have to know.

  So I can stop myself from falling in love with him.

  “So? Which one is it?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice from trembling. “Are you a murderer?”

  “It’s complicated,” the light-red Zoran growls through his clenched jaw. “We have a duty to the Zoran people. We have a chain of command. We follow orders. We are not like you humans, with your individualism.”

  “So if you’re told to do something, you just do it?”

  “I was told to leave you to die, and I didn’t do that now, did I? Don’t accuse me of being a puppet.”

  Touché. “But you just said you follow orders.”

  “I do. That’s what being a warrior is about. Trusting your leaders. Having the utmost faith in each other. If one of us decides to do their own thing during a skirmish, the entire squad can die as a direct result. We have to defer to our squad commander. I don’t enjoy it, if that’s what you’re wondering. But I do think it’s necessary.”