Galactic Champion

by Dante King

  Across the room was another open door, and inside, I spotted what appeared to be a tiled tub, large enough to hold about six of the little people. It was filled beyond capacity. Each was bathing, chatting, giggling, and appeared to be happy with their lot in life.

  I liked the house because of the defense and concealment it provided. The people were the kindest I’d met since the Ish-Nul. I couldn’t help thinking of Enra and her people, and my stomach stirred with longing. One day, I hoped to return to her.

  For now, I needed to find the Revenge crew members who were inside Brazud.

  This place would be a perfect location to recuperate. The memory of Enra had reminded me what wonders a woman’s touch could do to revive me. Yaltu hadn’t exactly been subtle about her intentions. Her kiss in Madomar in front of the merchants, providing the rapid transportation here, and her hospitality made it clear that she wanted me in fighting form to help her free the creatures taken by the King of Brazud. It didn’t mean she wanted to have sex with me, but I had seen the way she looked at me.

  “Come,” Yaltu said from over her shoulder as we continued through the empty room.

  She tore the big fruit in half and handed me the larger portion. I took a hungry bite. The fruit was succulent and firm. It tasted like a cross between the most juicy apple I’d ever had and sweet nectar. There were no seeds I could identify, and I ate quickly.

  Our destination appeared to be a closed door at the far end of the room. The door was made of metal. I couldn’t tell what kind it was, but the dull sheen made me think of steel, possibly reinforced military-grade material. It would be blast-resistant, heat-resistant, and only one small step away from a door used to secure a fortress. Again, I was impressed with the amount of effort these people showed for Yaltu.

  She continued walking toward the door, so I followed. With one hand, she pushed it open and walked inside. I followed, and was greeted with a wave of warm air. It was then that I smelled something delightful. A fragrance resembling candy, tinged with a hint of spice. I looked around for the source but couldn’t place it.

  Yaltu’s room had several large bunches of the glowing mushrooms along the walls, and I wondered if they were the source, or if it was some kind of perfume added to whatever was creating the heat and humidity.

  There was only one bed in the room, but it was big enough for several people. At least six pillows crowded for space against an intricately carved headboard of the blackest wood I’d ever seen. An expansive blanket that sparkled like it was made of weaved platinum covered the rest of the bed. It was quite the place to sleep on a planet like this.

  Another doorway to the left revealed the edge of a wide bath, tiled just as beautifully as the ones I’d seen earlier. Steam wafted from the room and coiled around the ceiling above us.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you brought me in here for a bath,” I said to Yaltu.

  “Your clothes are crusty, and you reek worse than Brazud’s sewer,” she teased.

  “Do you do this with all of your visitors, or just the humans?”

  “Only certain guests,” Yaltu informed me with an odd smile. “Have you finished your interrogation?”

  “For now,” I chuckled.

  “Then, it is time to bathe,” she said as she pulled her cloak over her head, revealing her traveling garments. I stood rooted in place as she removed her light-green tunic. Her breasts were small but firm. They fit her thin proportions perfectly, and when she caught me admiring them, she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

  I took the hint and removed my own filthy shirt. We both stood in silence for a moment as we admired each other. She made the next move by untying a string at her waist. A second later, her traveling pants dropped to the floor, and she stepped out of them, along with her shoes.

  Removing my shirt had been the easy part. I wasn’t sure how she’d react when she saw my manhood standing at attention. She was completely hairless, but her parts looked compatible. Either she’d recognize mine, or we’d have an awkward moment where we’d try to figure each other out. I dropped my trousers and waited. The small, mischievous smile she held turned into an even bigger mischievous smile.

  She liked what she saw.

  The soft pattern of green scales formed a curling pattern along the back and side of her neck, joining together along her spine. From there, they formed great swirling loops, and small arcing hooks down the back of her legs. They resembled tattoos, drawn by an artist whose sole goal in life was to make the woman as alluring as possible.

  The only big difference between her body and those of human women, so far as I could tell, was a small line of ridges that traveled half the length of her spine. They were subtle, and I only noticed them when she climbed into the bath, using a little stool that appeared to have been made for the purpose.

  “Will you join me?” she asked.

  If only those who’d given me the call sign, Paladin, could see me now. Actually, I’d have preferred if they didn’t, but this planet was starting to make the name less and less relevant.

  I followed her into the small room and noticed the wonderful scent again. I eased the knots out of my muscles from the day’s fighting. When I stepped into the hot water, my nose was greeted by a musky scent that reminded me of the top-shelf alcohol from Mars.

  Pheromones.

  The realization struck me like a slap. Not only was she sending the right signals, so was her body. But I didn’t feel like I was being mind-controlled. It was just an increase of an already existing desire, and I figured Yaltu was giving me them intentionally. She wanted me at least as much as I wanted her.

  Several small vials were lined up against the edge of the bath. Some were made of glass and contained colored liquids. One appeared to be a bowl with a lid, and a larger one was pottery with painted flowers adorning it.

  Yaltu reached for the latter. “Will you wash my hair?” she asked as she approached through the water. I noticed the hungry look in her eyes and wondered if hair-washing was part of a mating ritual.

  I uncorked the bottle and gave the contents a sniff. It smelled both peppery and fruity at the same time. I carefully tipped a thick liquid into my other hand as Yaltu turned away from me and backed up, pressing her ass firmly against my throbbing erection. She was going to make the task of washing her hair extremely difficult, and she knew it.

  I was happy to play along.

  Her hair was thin and soft, and as I worked the thick liquid into it, she sighed with pleasure. I did my best to massage her scalp both to work the shampoo all the way to her roots, and to show her what I was capable of. I was rewarded by one of her hands stroking the outside of my thigh as she leaned harder into me.

  “Do you have a mate?” she asked, nearly breathless.

  Ah, that question. I didn’t even think about lying, but I was hoping the question would come up later… much later.

  “I’ve had mates but none for life,” I explained. “It is the way of my people, the Martians. We are warriors, and for us, sex is casual. Some marry for life but most don’t. It’s tragic when one’s life-mate dies in battle. We don’t take commitments lightly. It is our way and has served us well.”

  I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Maybe I thought she’d recoil at the idea of having more than one mate. Maybe I was worried that I’d accidentally married her due to some kind of hair-washing ritual I wasn’t aware of. Instead, the look I got when she turned her beautiful eyes toward me was one of hunger.

  “I saw the look in your eyes at that emblem in Madomar,” Yaltu said. “It’s the kind that only comes from knowing loved ones are in danger. Do you believe one of your mates is in Brazud?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “If so, I’d like to find her alive and well. I call her Reaver.”

  “She is not a life-mate?”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. I had strong feelings for Reaver, and I might have liked to make her a life-mate at some point, but things had changed. My feelin
gs hadn’t, but I’d shared connections with another woman on this planet, Enra. And now I was sharing something else with Yaltu. I didn’t want to jump the gun, but I could easily see myself with many life-mates, not just one.

  I imagined Reaver might struggle with the concept, but then she’d always been pretty open-minded.

  When I didn’t reply, Yaltu smiled, turned away, and rewarded me with gentle strokes of her other hand against my other leg. She showed no jealousy at all.

  “Among my people,” Yaltu said, “males are rare. It is uncommon that a male will share his females. There is no need to, and it is rare when a female desires it. I would not desire that you share me.”

  Wow. This alien woman is really speaking my language.

  I almost laughed at the thought. The guys who’d named me Paladin would probably start believing in the tooth fairy if they ever found out about this.

  “Are there just so few males born, or are they killed in battle?” I asked.

  “Both,” she confirmed. “There have never been many males among my kind.”

  With that, Yaltu dipped her head under the water for a moment and rinsed the soap from her hair. Then she turned to me, pressed her body against mine, and washed my hair with strong, soft fingers. Even though she was completely wet, I could still smell her pheromones. She was ready, and so was I, but we waited.

  “Here,” she said, as she wrapped her legs around my waist, “we find power attractive. You will find no end to women who give themselves to you. These women will be yours alone. You are a powerful man.”

  “And you are a powerful woman.”

  “Will you take me?”

  Who was I to say no? I kissed her neck and felt her little scales dance under my lips. She moaned with pleasure, reached down to my throbbing manhood, lifted her knees, and guided me into her. Then, she leaned back and wrapped her legs around me.

  She was tight, slick, and all I could do was hold on to the edge of the bath to keep her from toppling us both over.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Yaltu and I woke in each other’s arms, her blankets a tangled knot tying us both together. For the first time since I’d landed on the planet, I felt like I’d actually gotten some real rest. I smiled as she kissed me before she slid out of the knot to dress.

  I stayed in bed for a few minutes and admired her body before I realized I didn’t have anything to wear. Somehow, during the night, one or more of her servants had entered the room and laid out clothes for me at the foot of the bed.

  The garments were made of something like canvas but appeared to be tougher and were much softer. The combination of brown, green, and black fabrics were expertly patched together and resulted in a respectable camouflage pattern. They fit well, especially since whoever had created them was thoughtful enough to have several areas that could be loosened or tightened with strings. I even found a tough pair of boots made of the same material but with rubber soles.

  After I got dressed, Yaltu gave me an appraising look.

  “Nina has provided well,” she said. “It fits you nicely and will help you blend in.”

  “Who’s Nina?” I asked.

  “She is the old woman you met last night. She has been with me the longest. She was there when Demetrios killed my father.”

  I’d suspected as much but tried to keep my expression neutral. After we’d made love multiple times, Yaltu had explained that her father had been the first leader of Brazud. That was why the memory was so difficult to her, but she didn’t seem to be dwelling on it now. Instead, she took a couple of minutes to point out the hidden compartments and pockets my new clothing contained.

  “These might be useful for you later,” she said. “When you travel into Brazud. But before you do, we shall eat.” Without waiting for a confirmation, she turned, opened the door to her bedroom, and left.

  Beyond, I saw nearly 20 little people all gathered around a long table they’d setup in the middle of the room. Small pots containing more of the mushrooms were arranged down the middle, bringing an eerie brightness to the otherwise dim room.

  The outside table was set out for breakfast. Skrew sat on the last chair on the right, his plate empty as he eyed the cornucopia of delicious-looking food in front of him. All four of his hands were clasped tightly together as if he’d had been scolded for trying to eat before we arrived.

  Yaltu seated herself at the far end of the table and began chatting with those nearby. The only empty chair was to her right, the place of honor. I took it and placed my hands in my lap, unsure of what rules or customs might dictate the beginning of a meal. As it turned out, the only thing everyone was waiting for was me.

  A moment after I sat down, everyone, including Yaltu, picked up a fork-like utensil. They all began scooping food from the many overflowing, colorful bowls in the middle of the table to fill their own. The room’s quiet vanished as it was replaced by chatter, laughter, and the sound of forks scraping and crashing against bowls.

  “Sleep all right, Skrew?” I asked him.

  “Skrew sleep with ugly shorties,” the vrak muttered. “They snore. Snore so much.”

  He reached for one of the purple fruits I’d enjoyed the night before, but he yelped after Nina slapped his hand.

  “Use a fork.” She pointed to the untouched utensil in front of him.

  Skrew growled but picked up the fork like he’d never seen one before and wasn’t sure what to do with it. He watched several others use theirs, clumsily held it in his hand, and stabbed the fruit, squirting juice onto the old woman.

  The table grew silent as all eyes settled on the gooey liquid running down her face and her puckered expression. I held my breath and my position, fork halfway to my mouth with a warm morsel of what looked like scrambled eggs, as I waited for what would happen next. If it was customary for her to beat the most annoying being at the table, I wasn’t sure I’d intervene.

  Instead, she opened her eyes and licked juice with a narrow tongue that looked far too long to fit in her mouth. “Mmm,” she said. “Tasty.”

  The table erupted in laughter, and the meal resumed. Skrew had managed to live another day, somehow.

  During the meal, a young member of the family approached Yaltu. He looked nervous and unsure, but she seemed completely comfortable with him. He whispered in her ear for several minutes, during which Yaltu stopped eating and tilted her head to better hear him.

  When he was done, he took a step away and studied Yaltu’s face.

  “Thank you,” she said. He nodded and returned to his spot at the table.

  “What was that about?” I asked. I wasn’t exactly jealous, but I was curious.

  Instead of answering, she gave me a serious look and waved my question away. “Not now,” she whispered. “After the meal.”

  Two of Yaltu’s household got up from the table, still chewing their food, and passed the bowls back and forth. The dish that was set in front of me contained a strange-looking cube with skin resembling an orange. When I stabbed it with my fork, juice as black as tar seeped out. I brought it to my plate and inspected it closely in the blue light of the nearby mushrooms, but the details were difficult to make out.

  When I tried to peel the fruit, the servant to my right, an old male, motioned that I should take a bite rather than peel the skin off. I did as he suggested and was rewarded for my efforts. The skin was tough but edible, and the flesh inside tasted like a combination of oranges and bacon.

  By the time the bowls were empty, Skrew had managed to gain some real skill with a fork and only dropped his food about half the time. His brow was crinkled, but the little guy looked as determined as he was irritated.

  When the meal was over, I tried to help clean the table, but several of the servants shooed me away. Nina walked up to me and inspected her handiwork, opening hidden pockets and making small adjustments to the straps that tightened and loosened the garments. After she was done, the well-fitting clothing fit even better. She placed her small fists on her
hips and huffed in satisfaction.

  “It feels good?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you for these. The clothing I came in was… in bad shape. What did you do with them?”

  “Burned them,” she said as she held her nose. “Too stinky.”

  I couldn't disagree.

  When the table was cleared, Yaltu turned to me with a serious expression. “One of our men has returned from Brazud. He has told me of the situation. It is not good.”

  So this was what the man had spoken to her about. I motioned for her to continue.

  “The gates, except for the main gate, are closed. There are three guards where there was one before. Too many guards to climb the wall and enter the city.”

  “So, how do I get in?” I asked.

  “There are many who are loyal to me in Brazud. They were loyal to my father. One is a guard. A vrak who has positioned himself at the north-west gate. He knows you have arrived and will allow you in.”

  “Are the residents friendly toward humans?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Usually, but now is the time of the arena. There will be those who will want to prove they are strong by harming you. Most will lose because they are weak, but you must be cautious. Do not fight if you can help it. Rescue those like Amin and find your people. Then, leave.”

  I sat in silence as I considered about a dozen things at once. I must have worried Yaltu, because she softly placed a hand on my arm.

  “It seems like too much of a coincidence that Brazud would lock down all of its gates and station more guards?” I said. “Could they know about me?”

  “It is possible,” she replied. “I have heard that the line to enter the city is long, and people are angry. They do not understand why the gates are closed. Perhaps they have heard of you.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t what I did in Madomar,” I said. “Maybe they know of others from the Revenge.”