by Fiona Jayde
“What the hell is that?”
The other female stands there with her mouth gaping open like a mawksha with its gills exposed. Then she points past me toward the horizon, where the other moon slowly ascends. I’m relieved I have not been discovered yet as I glance at both moons, trying to understand what could possibly elicit such a reaction from them, but the moons don’t look to be in danger of falling from the sky any time soon, and these moons are certainly mundane compared to those of my home planet.
A sharp pang of homesickness threatens to overwhelm me, but I cast it aside just as quickly as it surfaces. Thoughts such as these are useless. My focus sharpens on these fascinating females as they continue to point to the moons overhead. I perceive they are surprised by this second moon, as if they did not expect to see it.
“So we have two objects orbiting this planet,” my female says. I close my eyes, embracing the way my horns continue to roll and unfurl with every word uttered by her mesmerizing lips. “I have absolutely no idea where we are or how we got here, but this is definitely not Earth.”
Earth. Never heard of it.
How did they get so lost to have landed on a planet such as this one? Yet it doesn’t look as if this ship of theirs is capable of space flight. Did they misread their star-charts while navigating their ship? It’s a primitive way to steer, traversing by water, but effective if you have the appropriate training. I frown as I study them, wondering at their intelligence. Perhaps they do not have the mental capacity to understand the tricky process of star-chart navigation from both space and planet-side terrain.
The other female shakes her head, still staring at the second moon in wonder. “If I wasn’t so freaked out right now, I’d be taking pictures with my iPhone.” She pats her hands on her hips and then the back of her light brown trousers. “Shit, I don’t even know where I put my phone.”
“I doubt it would work here.”
“Good point.”
“Hey guys! Is it safe to come up top?”
I nearly snarl aloud at the sound of a male voice resonating from the depths of the ship. A male who is currently much closer to my female than I am. This is completely unacceptable. That purple mist covers my eyes again, creating a haze I can barely see through. I take in deep breaths to calm this frenzy overtaking me. I will not be reasonable with another male around my mate.
My female calls down to this male.
“John, I think you better stay put.” She looks at her female companion with a panicked expression.
Is she afraid of this male? Is he the reason she came to be hurt?
I will tear him limb from limb. No one is allowed to hurt my mate.
“Yep. Uh…John, I think it would be best if you gave me some readings from the monitors below. Can you tell us if you see any seismic activity showing?” The female looks at my mate and gives her a nod, as if she is assisting her with something very important. “We’ll have to tell him at some point.”
My mate sighs and looks around. “I know, but he’s already been through so much. After losing Bert, I just don’t think…” she trails off and stops speaking. I see moisture gathering in her eyes and become greatly alarmed. I knew she wasn’t well, but this looks very serious. What if her head injury is causing permanent blindness? And this Bert? Who is he that the mere mention of him would cause such devastation to cross her face. My heart pings with jealousy, certain I have several rivals on board.
No matter. I will fight them all and prove to my female that there is no better match for her than an Elysium Warrior.
She takes off the top layer of her clothes and ties it around her waist. I can see her shoulders now. Her skin is a light brown, similar to her companion’s, and smooth, without markings or ceremonial scars. My horns pound. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers across that skin.
Enough waiting. I decide that I will find out.
Before I can capture my female, I sense another smell on the wind. This time, a far less pleasant one. I grind my teeth. Chassaks. They approach from the north in one of their sailing ships.
Still cloaked, I remain at the helm to watch and wait. If they do not take my female, I will not engage with them, but I fear this will come to a confrontation either way. This is my mate, and I will not allow them to take her and sell her on the market.
“Thom, what the hell is that thing?” my females says in an alarmed tone. She descends the ladder and grabs the other female by the arm.
“I don’t know, but we need to get back into the sub and descend as fast as possible.”
My mate grabs her by the hand and hurries her toward the ship opening. I mentally urge her on and commend her for her wise decision. If they can descend quickly, I can simply attempt to keep track of her while picking these vermin off one by one. The other female pulls back just before they get to the door. “What if they have weapons that can sink our ship?”
I grind my teeth as the ship glides closer. This stupid female is endangering my mate.
“Thom, get your ass down that ladder now. If they have weapons in their hands, we won’t have a fighting chance in hell of getting out of here.”
They both move toward the opening, but a shot from a photon blaster intercepts their path. My mate and her friend scream in fright. The sound of her distress nearly undoes me, sending my protective instincts into overdrive. The purple mist closes over my vision, and I nearly lose control—and my advantage—by revealing myself and throwing one of my hand-made, hunting spears. I take deep breaths as my mate turns to face the ship, throwing her friend behind her to shield her. My brave mate. I commend her for her loyalty, her fierce spirit, but must she be so reckless with her own well-being?
The Chassaks’ ship comes closer. It isn’t a full crew, which is good. It looks to be more of a scouting ship, but it easily towers over my mate’s ship as it swiftly glides toward the starboard side. I count four Chassaks aboard and worry sets in.
As far as fighters go, this species in no way matches the might and strength of the Elysiums, but they have an advantage over us that no other species does. Their quills are poisonous to us, and their aim is always accurate. Most survive the poison if they can evade the Chassaks, but the toxin debilitates almost immediately, leaving us helpless and at the mercy of these charksis-sucking vermin.
If I can keep the element of surprise, I might be able to save my female and myself without being shot by their quills. I reach behind me and grab my spear. It’s a primitive weapon, but it is all I’ve been able to fashion considering my lack of resources.
My mate’s chest heaves with fear, staring at her aggressors with terror in her eyes. I don’t think she has ever seen their kind before. It is not a pleasant thing to see these beings for the first time. Chassaks can transform their bodies to match any other life form they desire, but in their natural state they are hideous creatures covered in scales and quills. To encounter them for the first time when they are coming straight for you…this is most assuredly a terrifying sight.
The ship aligns within feet of the females, and the Chassak leader jumps onto the females’ deck and steps forward. I can tell he is a leader by his quills. The higher-cast Chassaks wear their quills taller on their backs. This particular leader has quills that stand higher than most. A general, then. He makes a demand in his hissing voice.
“If you board our vessel without fuss, we will not harm you.”
I nearly let out a snort and reveal my location. Already, I see his subordinates bristling with mating frenzy. They wish to do more than hurt these females, and once they use and abuse them, they will sell them as slaves for the pleasure of other low-life, galactic scum. The females look at each other, clearly not understanding a thing being said.
Interesting. Do they not have translators? No matter. This stolen vessel of mine is equipped with all sorts of handy equipment, including translator chips. The Chassaks find it necessary to inject such chips into their slaves to make them more valuable to their masters.
The Chassak leader tries again.
“You will come willingly or you will suffer the consequences.”
“Look, pal. I don’t understand a damn word you’re saying, but I swear to God and everything that is holy, if you so much as take another step toward us, I will rip those porcupine quills from the back of your very ugly body and use them to remove your eyeballs from their sockets.”
My jaw drops in wonder at the fierceness of her response, and I nearly burst into laughter.
My mate. She is magnificent.
He understands her, a wide grin spreading across his scaly face. This merely confirms my suspicions that the Chassaks have also had dealings with this species. I cannot pinpoint why this makes me feel so uneasy.
“Wrong answer,” he says.
Somehow, she seems to understand his meaning, and before I have time to blink an eye lens, she shoves her companion to the ground and takes two running steps before leaping into the air—foot extended—and landing a direct kick to the face of the general who is so surprised and overcome by her vicious attack he crumples backward onto the deck and rolls into the sea, unable to regain his footing or outmaneuver her. His subordinates stare at the water and then back at my female in utter disbelief.
This woman is like no other. I’ve never seen such skill or ferocity in a female so small.
Unfortunately, she has no idea what she’s up against. The Chassaks, being the cowards they are, don’t engage in a fair fight. Instead, one of the general’s underlings turns his back to her and shoots three quills across the deck and into the side of my female’s throat.
Three quills. She will never survive this.
My hands tense as I hear her strangled cry of surprise. Three is far too much. One alone will fell a warrior of my size. This will kill her. I choke back the roar I feel building within my chest, attempting to regain my reasoning before I reveal my location and suffer the same fate as my mate. I cannot help her if I am dead. I watch with a sense of frustration and helplessness as she stumbles to her knees while the underlings come to collect her, but her stumbling gains momentum, and to my relief, she falls into the water, far out of their reach, whisked away by the current. The other female screams. The Chassak underling climbs down onto the boat. I see him change form, becoming an exact copy of her. The female runs for the door of the ship, calling out to someone inside.
I want to help her. I truly do, but I must recover my mate from the water before she becomes unconscious and slips under the surface. I must retrieve her and disappear before the Chassaks circle back to find her. Panic and a sense of great urgency pushes me forward.
I quickly steer my boat toward the current where my female has fallen. Coming around, I see her bobbing in the water near the back of the ship. She looks to be struggling, and I’m amazed she is still conscious, but her strength is failing her. There isn’t much time. I dive into the water, risking exposure by being out of reach of the cloaking device, but it can’t be helped. The struggle aboard her ship has everyone else distracted. It is fortunate, considering the level of noise I make while swimming to her. I reach her in one more stride. As I grab her around the waist, her glassy eyes widen in sheer terror. She thrashes for a moment, pulls her arm back, and squarely punches me in the jaw.
It is by far the most alluring thing a female has ever done in my presence.
I’m surprised by the amount of force she mustered. My horns stand straight at attention, burning with the need to claim this ferocious mate. I pin her against my chest and swim back, ready to tell her she has nothing to fear from me, ready to take any beating she wishes to give me. I would not deny her fighting spirit, nor would I attempt to snuff it out. I know I am unworthy of her. I deserve nothing after failing to save my father, mother, and my sister, but I will selfishly take her, thanking the great Goddess Elysarah for providing me companionship.
My female’s body suddenly goes limp in my arms. I look down at her face and see she is unconscious. Her soft, brown skin looks pale and wan. This worries me greatly.
As I finally pull us back onto my boat and into the obscurity of the cloaking device, I can hear the Chassaks battling with the other female in the distance. The invaded ship starts to sink back down into the waves as the Chassaks continue to grapple with the female on deck. She is also fierce despite the many quills embedded in her neck and arm. These females. Where in the galaxy do they come from? Are they all fighters such as my mate and her companion?
The Chassaks can’t seem to get a hold on her. They use another cowardly method to catch her off guard. All three of them are copies of her now, shifting to take on her form. The scene is a strange one; four versions of the same woman. She stares at them in horror before letting out a bloodcurdling scream that makes me regret leaving her to her fate. Yet I have no choice. My mate is already very ill, and her needs come before all others.
The ship is moving deeper and deeper into the waves. I feel a flash of pity for the frightened woman on deck, but I turn my back to her, resolute in my determination to tend to my female. I gently set her on the floor of the vessel and steer us in the other direction, heading back to my cave as quickly as I possibly can. I have herbs that will ease her suffering.
It is a shame that those herbs have never been capable of easing mine.
Only she has the power to do that now.
I wake up dizzy, disoriented, and my forehead and right ear hurt like crazy, but I’m also warm and seemingly safe. Yet I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t feel warm or safe. Not after…wait!
In a flash, I remember. The crazy storm, losing Bert, getting sucked into some whirlpool, and then surfacing only to find a second moon—how? And then those creatures showing up, looking like humans who had bred with porcupines and snakes. Did one of them shoot me?
What. The. Hell?
Confused, I open my eyes only to be faced with yet another bizarre sight that further proves I am hell and gone from Kansas.
Not that I’ve ever been to Kansas.
I stare at an incredibly muscled forearm covered in a dark, hunter green color. I’ve never in my life seen green skin on anything resembling a human arm, yet here I sit, cradled against what I assume is someone’s chest, staring at a taut forearm...that’s a pretty shade of dark green.
I feel like this entire day has been one succession of twilight zone experiences after another, culminating in this one horrific moment where I discover the alien attached to this massive green arm is getting ready to eat me. My eyesight blurs a bit, and I start to feel woozy. Maybe I’m just hallucinating. There’s a very good chance the arm holding me isn’t even real.
I reach out and poke at it. Is it real? There’s a grunt, and the skin begins to ripple, moving along the muscles of a giant arm. I follow the rippling skin, up past the bicep—holy shit it’s huge—to the shoulder until I’m staring at the face of a terrifyingly gigantic, horned monster…who seems to be cuddling me gently against his chest.
As far as days go, this has not been my favorite.
The skin on his face is also the same dark green color, even though there is some added luminescence to it I find fascinating. Despite the color, his face is human-like: similar eyes, though a bright yellow shade, with pupils slitted like a reptile’s. His nose is thin and straight, with cheekbones on either side that are ridged like a horned lizard’s brow. His mouth is wide and he possesses a jawline that is square, sporting lizard-like ridges on the corners of his jaw. The texture looks a lot like reptilian skin across those ridges even though the feel of his skin on his arms is far smoother.
It’s a handsome face. I’m not sure why that bothers me, but I feel like the Universe has wronged me in some way by placing me in the arms of a handsome alien when everyone knows aliens should look like little creatures with black, bulbous eyes. Two l
ight-colored horns harboring a slight rosy tint curl from the top of his forehead, spiraling tightly against his skull and finishing in small tips at the back of his head, forming a helmet of sorts just above his ears. Well… the helmet is over one set of ears. I think I see another pair, peeking out from behind the horns. They twitch and turn, as if catching sounds I cannot hear.
Since I’m crazy and clearly hopped up on some trippy drugs, I decide it can’t hurt to touch this handsome alien’s jaw just to see what else my mind can conjure up as to texture and even expression. What happens if I run my fingers along his skin?
His jaw is strong, like granite. Interesting. I poke and prod at it, fully expecting to be snarled at, but my mind has decided to create a sweet alien rather than a raging beast because his lips spread into a slow smile, revealing incisors that look hellah sharp. Cool. My mind is a fascinating thing. I had no idea I was this creative. Now it’s time to experiment. What happens to my hallucination when I’m not so nice? I lift my hand a little, pretending I’m about to touch his cheek, but quickly pull back and slap him hard across the face.
Take that, stupid extraterrestrial. How dare my mind conjure up some sexy alien god when any normal, scifi-loving human would be more likely to hallucinate a being from the movie Independence Day?
He inhales sharply and blinks in surprise as his horns begin to unfurl, rising straight into the air and turning obsidian black. Excellent. This is infinitely more terrifying. This hallucination might not be a total snooze fest after all.
Jeez, I feel woozy. My head aches something fierce as I try to focus in on this alien’s expression.
Just when I think my fictional alien is about to morph into an appropriate looking nightmare from hell and shriek at me, he does something completely out of character. He throws back his head and lets out a loud laugh that manages to both relax me and turn me on. The throaty chuckle sends tingles along my nerve endings and down my spine, creating a pool of warmth in my core.
