by Sky Winters
“My son knows good food,” was what Nevaeh would always tell her whenever he saw her rushing to the bathroom.
When Aurora returned from one such trip, she plopped down on the chair, her cheeks the color of her eyes. “I don’t get it. How does that work? That one-time thing that makes a baby? Is it the atmosphere?”
Nevaeh laughed when she spoke. “I don’t know the biology of it; I just know that’s what happens.”
Just then there was a knock at the door. Nevaeh went to answer, and his face grew cold when he saw who the caller was. “Hi Bjorn.”
“May I come in?” his friend asked.
“That depends on whether or not you will attack Aurora,” Nevaeh said and stood there blocking the entrance still.
“I won’t,” he promised, and then Nevaeh stood aside to let him pass.
“Hi,” he waved uncomfortably to Aurora. She smiled at him, and then he turned to Nevaeh, and then back at her. “Is she having a baby?” he asked with surprise.
“God, is it that obvious? It’s only been a week,” Aurora replied and held her head down as she felt another bout of nausea.
Maybe it was the idea of the baby, or the time that had passed that had driven a wedge between the friends that needed mending, that cause Bjorn to display elation at the news. He went over to Aurora, and knelt next to her. “May I?” he asked, signaling her stomach.
Aurora looked to Nevaeh and when he nodded, she approved. The man looked awed when he touched her stomach and then his face lit up and he looked at her. “This is the first baby between a being of earth and one from Thrax,” he said as if the baby had suddenly developed grave importance to his people. He spoke reverently and with respect that Aurora couldn’t help being filled with wonder.
“I suppose so, though I am dreadfully frightened. I don’t know what to expect,” she said to him.
“You have a good guide,” he said and stood to congratulate Nevaeh. “Now I see the stars had something different planned for you altogether my friend,” he said and clapped him on the back. “This is big; you need to have the ceremony, and make her official.
“Wait, what ceremony?” Aurora asked.
Nevaeh walked over to her and held her hand. “It is our custom here to have a celebration when a woman gets impregnated, so that the Gods can bless the baby even from the womb.”
“But what about…the people?” she asked. “Will your leaders agree to that? I don’t belong here.”
“You carry a son of Thrax,” Bjorn spoke up before Nevaeh could even answer. “That is your right to be here.”
Aurora smiled after he spoke, and then she looked back to Nevaeh. “And this is something you want to do?”
“It is something I must,” he told her. “I was planning to bring it up today.”
“I will speak for you Nevaeh,” he said and the excitement returned to his voice as his face lit up. “The first of his kind-that child will be something special.”
“Thanks Bjorn,” Nevaeh said.
“You two will have to excuse me,” Aurora said as she made another mad dash to the bathroom.
“Yes indeed,” Bjorn grinned. “I’m sorry man,” he turned to Nevaeh and said. “But you know we were taught that the people of earth…”
“No need,” Nevaeh said and silenced his friend. “I’m just glad everything is working out.”
“Me too,” he replied.
The two men stood there in the room grinning like Cheshire cats when Aurora returned, and she couldn’t help but be affected by their contagious attitude. She walked over to Nevaeh and kissed him lovingly, and Bjorn stared as he witnessed the novel yet strange phenomenon that was about to change the lives of everyone on Thrax.
************
Aurora stood nervously at the stone pillar just outside the sacred halls. She was dressed in a long white gown that fell to her ankles. Nevaeh stood next to her, in a long white robe with a broad golden belt. It was an important day for her, and for them; the day when she would officially be welcomed by the people of Thrax and blessings would be bestowed on their baby. Nevaeh stood there beaming with pride as he looked at the small swelling on her stomach. The bells pealed then, and the two marched off to meet the elders as they waited for them at the end of the march. There were rows of ministers, leaders, commanders and regular citizens lining the walk, and two little girls marched before them scattering white petals.
It felt like a grand coronation to Aurora, and she was as nervous as she was excited, and she returned the smiles of many of the people who nodded their approval as she passed. She felt Neveah’s grip tighten on her, and she squeezed his hand in return.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered as they walked.
“No,” he told her. “They have a special technique to applying the paint. It is usually done just as the baby is born, and sealed into him forever.”
She drew a deep breath and kept walking into the future she could not have foreseen. The elder took her hand as she got to the podium, and then he held both their hands and turned them to the people. They chanted and hummed something unfamiliar to Aurora, but it had to be good, because when she looked over at Nevaeh he was grinning.
Then the elder held both Aurora’s hand and turned her to him. “Welcome, woman of Thrax,” he smiled.
Aurora beamed when he spoke, and she felt the baby inside her move, and she knew that though nothing would be the same again, that it would be better too.
THE END
Star Dragon
CHAPTER ONE
“Shit!” Staff Sergeant Keandra Calhoun carefully got out of her rocket ship and surveyed the damage. She’d been sent out on a routine patrol of the area, but somehow she’d lost control of her ship and crashed into the rocky mountains on Hoth. The cold, gunmetal gray planet was in enemy territory, and she did not want to be stuck here. Unfortunately, her ship was inoperable. The entire front engine was gone, and there were jagged gashes along the hull.
She also had a gaping hole in her leg, where debris from the ravaged ship had stabbed her.
Frustrated, Keandra slapped the hull with her hand. “Goddammit!” She took off her goggles and looked around to make sure no one was around. Thankfully, the Hoths had not been alerted to her presence. Not yet anyway.
The Hoths were a brutal, fierce and militant race of aliens known for taking other species prisoner – the ones who weren’t murdered became subservient slaves who likely wished they were dead. They were shifters; half humanoid lifeforms, half slimy monsters with poisonous tentacles.
Keandra did not want to meet one of these filthy fuckers.
Leaning against her ship, she did her best to stay down and hidden in case any Hoths were also on patrol and came across her. If her ship was working properly, she might have been able to use her invisibility force field, but alas…
“Come in, Terra One,” she said into her communicator. “Terra One, this is Calhoun.”
There was no signal on her device. Eventually, she had to give up and put it back into a pocket of her green cargo pants. What now?
Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching. Reaching into her pants, she pulled out her small, purple blaster gun, ready to shoot whoever this stranger was. Thankfully, it was only one pair of footfalls or she would have been in big trouble. Keandra could take one Hoth. She knew she could.
But what appeared instead was a tall, blueish man with dark green hair held back in a low bun on his head, and light green scales on his forearms and neck. He was wearing a green patrol outfit, similar to hers actually. Instead of coming in to attack her, this stranger seemed more… curious. He stopped several feet from her crash site.
“Don’t shoot,” he said, raising his arms to show that he did not have a blaster. “I am Albion Pogona. I am a weredragon. I am not from Hoth. Please.”
Keandra slowly lowered her blaster. “Are you with the Resistance?” she asked him, keeping her blaster in her hand but no longer pointing it at him.
The dragon shifter sw
allowed hard and nodded. “I want to get you out of here before anyone sees you. Come with me.”
Accepting that her ship was a loss now, Keandra nodded and went to this Albion Pogona. Up closer, she could see that he had gold eyes and a more reptilian appearance than she had noticed before. It was much more difficult to notice such traits when all she was focused on was defending herself.
The green uniform almost matched his green scales. They were a few shades lighter, whereas the uniform was olive, or whatever term the weredragon aliens had for olive. Albion was at least six and a half feet tall. He towered over Keandra, who was tough and fiery at only five foot two and a half.
More importantly, Albion was gorgeous. He had chiseled features, a pointed chin and a long, well-defined nose like a Greek statue. His attractive face and muscled body could almost make up for the fact that he was covered in scales and obviously an alien.
She did not know if she should feel safe with him, but what choice did she have now?
Albion walked her back to his ship, which was parked nearby. She limped along beside him, trying not to noticeably wince or grimace as the pain of the accident finally got her attention. She acted tough and brave so that he would not hurt her.
They walked aboard as quickly as she could handle, and he set the autopilot’s course. Keandra made sure to stay close so she could monitor his coordinates.
“If I was going to kill you, I would have done it already,” Albion said calmly, smirking slightly as he turned the dials and pushed several buttons.
“I thought you said you didn’t have a gun.”
He turned toward her then and produced three blasters from the recesses of his cargo pants. He placed them on the ship’s dashboard. “I fabricated that. I knew you would just shoot me if I had a weapon drawn, and that would’ve been fucking annoying for both of us.”
Keandra looked at him, shocked and somehow appreciative.
“You’re hurt,” he said then, blinking slowly like she saw a lizard once do in a zoo, his odd, thin eyelids moving over his reptilian eyes. “Come with me.”
Before she could protest, Albion lifted her into his arms and carried her down the main hall of the ship and into a cabin. He laid her on the bed and ripped her pants open so he could get at her wound on her right calf.
“Hey!” she shouted. “In case you weren’t aware, this is currently my only pair of pants!”
Albion ignored her. He turned from her and reached into the medicine cabinet. He dumped a strange pink liquid onto a piece of gauze. Then he turned back around and immediately put the gauze on her injured leg.
No warning. No ‘this might sting a little.’ Just bam! – right onto her open wound.
“Star shitter!!” she swore, flailing and banging her fist against the stiff mattress. It felt like lemon juice into a papercut on her eyeball. The worst pain she could imagine. “Why??”
He looked at her, blinking again. “You’re injured.”
“I know I’m fucking injured,” she snapped. “But you could’ve prepared me.”
Albion considered that. “Vlwarx may sting a little.”
“Thank you for that,” Keandra said, taking a deep breath and then exhaling it out hotly through her nostrils.
He continued to administer the unfamiliar medication to Keandra’s calf, while she bit her lip and kept her swears inside. It hurt like hell, but at least he was trying to help her. After a few moments, the medication seemed to be doing its job and she no longer felt pain. There was a numbness in her leg, but she preferred not feeling anything to the excruciating pain she had been experiencing.
Once a liberal amount of the Vlwarx was put on her leg, Albion closed up the bottle and threw the used gauze into a trash bin. Then he wrapped some soft, pink bandages around her injured calf.
“How did you crash your ship?” he asked, looking into her eyes. It turned out that his eyes were not just gold. They had a thin band of green around the pupils. His eyes did not help him appear more human, but Keandra found him attractive in an exciting and different way. Albion was alluring.
She really hoped she could trust him.
“My ship’s navigation system went out of control,” Keandra explained. “I think a signal came from Hoth and conflicted with my software. I was doing a routine patrol of the area to make sure our enemies are staying in line. Please, I beg you; don’t let anyone on Hoth know I’m here.”
Albion looked at her as though considering his options. He stroked his pointed chin. Some green scruff was forming there, the same color as his scales. Keandra wondered what he would look like with a beard. If it was possible to internally roll her eyes at herself, that’s what she was doing.
“I will not tell anyone,” he told her. “You are safe with me.”
Keandra let herself believe him. When she looked into his eyes, she could see that he was not like the other aliens she had come across on all of her missions. He was decent. He was compassionate. He was not out to attack her or her people.
He had to be with the Resistance. After all, the Hoths were brutally enslaving and killing off many other species in their quadrant of the galaxy. As far as Keandra knew, his race was one such species. She wondered what his race was, but of course she was not going to ask that. It did not matter, as long as he was not a Hoth.
“Now you should get some rest. I will make some food for us.” Albion put all of the first aid tools back into the cabinet and then gently but firmly pushed her back onto the mattress so she would lie down.
He left the cabin then, the door whizzing open and then shut behind him. Keandra did as she was instructed and stayed lying flat on the mattress, hoping that Albion’s miracle elixir would be enough to completely heal her wound, no matter how unrealistic that was. She had seen aliens achieve some pretty crazy things.
She wondered what the dragon shifter had been up to when he discovered her crashed rocket ship. Had he been patrolling just like she was? Keandra felt extremely fortunate that he had come across her, instead of the enemy.
If a Hoth had found her, she would have more than a stinging leg to complain about.
When Albion returned, he was carrying a chrome tray full of food that looked remarkably similar to food from Earth. Keandra opened her mouth to question that, but he just smirked a little. For a lizard-like creature, he had nice, full lips.
“I have been to Earth before,” he said, to explain away her puzzled expression. “I did not get to stay for long, but I was there long enough to know what a sandwich is.”
He sat beside her on the bed and placed the tray onto her lap. She sat up and admired her meal. Sandwich, a salad that seemed mostly fine except for some purple lumps that she suspected were not eggplant… And a glass of pinkish milk.
Keandra pointed at her milk. “What is this?”
Albion’s face went red. “Well, there are no bovine here, obviously. It’s milk from a skrack.”
She had no idea what a skrack was, but it did not sound as tasty as cow milk. Still, she did not want to be rude to the person who had rescued her and taken such good care of her thus far. So, instead of making a disgusted face, like she wanted to do, Keandra just took a sip of the strange milk.
It did not taste as bad as she expected. Actually – surprisingly – it did not taste so different from normal milk.
“Wow,” she said. “Way to go, skrack.”
Albion smiled at her, seemingly pleased by her enjoyment of his offerings. “So, what do you do on these missions you go on?” he asked, continuing to make an effort for small talk.
“I mostly just fly around, making sure that everything is going in an orderly way. I seek out enemies and keep them more or less in line,” Keandra said. “But I mostly just fly around and monitor things.”
He nodded, understanding.
“What about you?” she asked. She had to know more about this mysterious weredragon, even if what she found out was not entirely pleasant.
Albion looked at her and then rubbed t
he palms of his large hands against his olive green cargo pants. Keandra got the impression that her question made him nervous; though why, she didn’t know.
“Same as you,” he said after a few moments of hesitation. “I was out patrolling the area for any suspicious activities. I suppose you are a suspicious activity.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you making a joke?” she asked, surprised.
He smiled and nodded.
“You will be safe in here,” he said then. “The door will be kept secure and no one is aware of your presence. The Hoths may know I’m here, but I am flying a Gekkota ship, not an Earthling ship. Worst case scenario is that they go after me for trespassing while being a Gekkota.”
Keandra frowned slightly at that. What he said was true; although he was not a Hoth, that only meant that he was another of their enemies. She was not any less likely to be captured now. But at least she would not be captured alone?
“And diverting from your mission would arouse suspicion,” she added with a nod. “I understand. Well, I won’t get in the way of your work. I can keep my mouth shut, as long as you can keep yours shut.”
Albion looked at her, tilting his head. If she ignored his scales, she could pretend that he was a normal Earthling man. Except he was light blue. A normal, Earthling man who was cold?
She was clearly starting to feel tired and woozy from the ordeal back with her ship. She finished up her meal without saying anything and soon Albion went back to his work elsewhere on the ship.
Setting the tray aside when she was done, Keandra lay back down on the stiff mattress and closed her eyes, falling asleep to the soft sound of the humming ship’s engine and the faint, distant sounds of Albion at work.
* * *
Bolting back up until a sitting position, Keandra gazed around the small cabin of the spaceship as she slowly remembered where she was. She had not been asleep for very long. Twenty minutes, tops. But she felt well-rested and ready to do something. She was not the kind of woman who would just sit back and let the man do everything for her! She was a staff sergeant, goddammit!
