by C. C. Ekeke
Those words and that longing gaze scorched through Norad. He’d lost count of how many times he’d feasted on the wonders of this human’s body. Norad regained his carriage, realizing then that he was still pointing his pulse pistol at the human. Biting back a curse, he let the weapon drop to the floor in a clatter and began hurriedly peeling off his clothing. The perfect reward after a victorious battle.
Sometime later, Norad lounged naked across the wide bed, watching his guest through the curtains on the suite’s outer balcony. A call had come in for her, important enough that the human took it while they were in the throes. Now she paced back and forth on the balcony, in an unlaced silky black robe and an earcom, jabbering animatedly in Union Standard Speak. One might think she was angry, the way her voice rose, save for how she laughed loudly and often with whomever she spoke with.
“And whose fault is that? Give me a time and place.” A brief silence followed. Her big brown eyes widened with amusement. “Corowood Zoo again? Of course,” she sighed. “Christ, I miss him.” Her husky voice grew thick with a longing she’d never displayed for Norad. “You? Eh. Not so much.” The human threw her head back with another loud and throaty laugh.
Jealousy stabbed Norad’s chest like a white-hot knife. For a heartbeat the Kedri wanted—no, needed—to snap the neck of whoever was on the other end of that transmission.
Stay calm. The words rang in his head, and Norad of House Gour felt ashamed. He sucked in a breath, swallowed his wounded Kedri pride and unclenched his fists. Norad had no actual claim to her, nor had he made one after their unceremonious split eight years ago. The woman had built a new life for herself within Union Space in the ashes of her previous one, working now for some military spec ops group called Star Brigade. Though from what she’d divulged to Norad, which was predictably not much, that group’s days of usefulness were at an end.
Almost ten years they’d known each other, yet Norad didn’t truly know her. She’d claimed her name was ‘Malyn Rossi,’ but Norad knew this to be an alias. She’d given him only scraps and half-truths about the dark and dangerous past she’d been running from when they’d first met, but never the full story.
“Yep, I can make today work,” she said happily to her friend. “Alright, see you and Jerm later today.” After the transmission ended, the human called Malyn plucked the earcom out and stashed it in her robe pocket. She then leaned over the balcony railing and zoned out on the suite’s outer view, idly playing with tangled blonde tresses spilling over her right shoulder. And what a marvelous view this suite had. One could see all of IPCOM’s Miracle Living Sector: a colossal tube of vast width ringed from top to bottom by the lights of a million or more inhabitants in their abodes. The concentric rings of civilian light kept going on forever in both directions, bookended by dark and seemingly bottomless holes. Of course, Norad had a privacy screen erected to obscure and mute what went on in his suite.
The Kedri rose and walked through the curtains, coming up from behind and slipping an arm around her waist. His six-foot-ten height to her five-foot-six at times was decidedly pronounced, so much so that the Kedri had to lean down as he searched the back of her neck with his tongue. She arched her back cat-like and made a contented noise.
Their rendezvouses, though brief and infrequent, took Norad back to their time together in Imperium Space. For a time they had been happy, beginning to plan a future—until she left without a trace and returned to Union Space. Over the past eight years, their paths had intersected every so often whenever he’d venture to Union Space. Yet even as his profession veered into murkier territory, and his travels had found him sharing another’s bed, Norad’s feelings remained unchanged.
“Who was that?” he finally murmured.
“Old friend,” Malyn replied without further explanation, speaking again in Common Tongue.
Norad, expecting that non-answer, tried a different approach. “Not Nereyo, I’m guessing?”
She laughed loudly. “Haven’t spoken to Rey in months. She’s too busy playing ‘fashion magnate.’”
Thinking of the legend Imperium operative, Nereyo Kyr, and the disgraceful parody she had become twisted Norad’s innards with rage. He pulled back, shaking his head. “Appalling,” the Kedri spat.
The human twisted in his grasp. Now he had a close-up of her heart-shaped face, its high cheekbones, large chocolate brown eyes and smooth olive skin bearing few signs of age. The sight was enough to cool Norad’s anger.
She reached up to grasp his kutaa-studded cheeks. “Hey you,” she purred, wearing her sexiest lopsided grin. The Kedri loved that grin, even the fleshy human lips that formed it. Norad had learned to accept and enjoy Malyn’s soft, unscaled body parts, mainly the pillowy pair of breasts he now fondled.
“Hello.” Norad’s tongue met hers and rubbed around for a bit, until she abruptly threw her little self at him. Surprised, the Kedri stumbled back inside the suite as he caught her, only to trip onto the bed. She howled with laughter, a mischievous look in her eyes as she straddled him. Norad spiritedly ripped off her robe and the twosome picked up right where they’d left off earlier.
After they finished, both were on the floor entwined in each other’s arms, her head nuzzled on his massive chest. The bed had more or less been destroyed half an orv ago.
“How long are you in Union Space this time?” Malyn whispered, as if afraid someone was listening.
Norad ran his fingers up and down the silky skin of her back. “Until next week.” Interest in Imperium weaponry had risen, one of the few benefits this trade merger offered Norad. “I’m meeting with a few mercenary outfits to offer my services as a weapons supplier, including the Crimson Suns…”
The human jerked up from his chest and eyed him sternly. “Sure about that? The Crimsons Suns are one of M24’s biggest competitors, Norad.”
“And I am no longer part of M24,” he met Malyn’s gaze with unflinching confidence that wasn’t just empty posturing. Granted, his meeting was with a cadet branch of the Suns, but it was still an opportunity.
Malyn tilted her head, wearing her playfully crooked grin. “Look at you, all risk-taking.” She ran greedy hands down his torso, toward his loins. “The Kedri Royal Military Service has no clue what they’re missing.”
Norad’s eyes narrowed beneath his overarched brow. Was that a joke? Sometimes he couldn’t tell with Malyn. He pulled himself up to a sitting position against the bed. “Even if they offered me the honor of becoming a Warprime, I would decline. It’s a political firestorm over in Imperial Space. The ultra-imperialists are riling up the masses again over the Imperium-Union Trade Merger…”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Christ. Those ‘Warsworn’ half-wits again? Can’t your Imperium send them all on a long voyage into deep space?” Without a spaceship, her scowl suggested.
Norad chuckled in agreement. “Most of those ‘idiots’ are from the Warrior Caste, the majority of whom strongly want the Imperium to return to its conquering ways.”
“What, that stupid ass Eternal War doesn’t cut it anymore?” Malyn snarked, tossing her hair defiantly.
Norad’s reaction this time was a cold, angry look. Any other Kedri would have killed Malyn on the spot for such a profane remark. “I enjoy you, human, but do not presume this enjoyment permits you to slight the Imperium’s noble struggle against those cybernetic abominations.”
Malyn’s olive skin paled. “Sorry!” she raised her hands regretfully. “Didn’t mean to offend your imperialistic pride.”
Her contrition satisfied Norad enough, so he continued, “Many within the Imperium see your Galactic Union as a foe ripe for conquest. You wouldn’t believe the lengths Sovereign Kel has taken to keep them pacified.”
Malyn draped her arms around his bull-sized neck. “Tell me.” Her throaty purr oozed with want.
Norad inclined his head toward hers. “Give me a reason.” And so she pumped him for information, while he pumped her until she screamed. The former Imperial Military warrior
in Norad felt rather soiled for spilling Imperium secrets to an outsider, especially a Union spy. But the fragrance of the human’s flesh was inebriating, the taste of her tongue on his addicting, the heat of Malyn’s body muddying his logic as he drove into her one ferocious thrust after another. She nibbled her way down his neck; Norad buried his face in her mass of disheveled blonde hair. They went two more times like a pair of feral beasts, and by then wrong or right no longer mattered, only her. After they’d finished, both were thoroughly satiated in more ways than one.
“Whether or not this trade merger actually happens,” Norad said, pulling on a blood-red tunic, “right now, the Imperium is a star ready to go nova. I plan to stay clear until everything settles.”
“What does that mean?” Malyn asked, pulling back on her figure-hugging dark blue pants.
“When my business is concluded in Union Space,” the Kedri pulled his longish hair back in a sleek plait with a round metal clip, “I won’t return to Imperium Space. Not for a while.”
“Where are you going?”
“Lawless Space, perhaps,” Norad said. “Take some bounty hunting jobs, while finding clients in need of Kedri weaponry.”
Malyn shrugged on a white short-sleeved shirt. “And Union Space?”
Norad turned and looked down at his human lover. “I do not know when I will return.”
That answer didn’t agree with the woman, judging by her soured expression. “Huh.”
The Kedri suddenly grew nervous, like an Imperial Legionary before his very first battle. But what he had to ask was one of the main reasons he had visited the Union this time. “Come with me.”
Now it was Malyn’s turn to be totally stunned. “Saywhatnow?”
Norad, seeing the opening, pressed on. “It can be like when we were together in Imperium Space.”
The human adjusted her shirt, shock giving way to scorn. “Now who’s living in the past?”
“Says the one desperate to save a dying organization,” Norad threw back.
Malyn’s nostrils flared. “Star Brigade isn’t dead yet!”
Careful, he told himself. “Not yet, but eventually.” Norad took measured strides toward Malyn. He knew that this beseeching was a risk to his pride and to their relationship. But the Kedri wanted Malyn at his side permanently. “See how this government disrespects you again? You deserve better.”
She folded her arms and scoffed. “And life on the fringe with you is?”
“All these years in Union Space, wearing this veneer of civility has spayed you. Come with me and I’ll remind you how to live again.” Norad stood before Malyn, dwarfing her. “What is truly keeping you here?”
That question struck home. She looked away, locks of golden blonde tumbling down her shoulders. The conflict on her features grew more pronounced. “There are members of Star Brigade that need me,” she disputed, sadness edging her words. “Who will care for them?”
“Who will care for you?” Norad retorted, his cavernous voice soft but firm. The Malyn Rossi he’d known eight years ago wouldn’t have hesitated to up and leave her current life. But back then, Norad hadn’t been ready to ask what he was asking now. Clearly, both parties had changed. He traced a thick thumb along Malyn’s jaw, feeling her shiver with pleasure. “We can travel the stars together and build the life that we should have years ago.” The Kedri’s two hearts thudded so hard within his chest that he feared Malyn would hear them. Exposing his inner wants like this felt so odd. But in Norad’s eyes, she was worth it.
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Malyn’s lips. She was much more intrigued by Norad’s offer than she was letting on. “There’s one more thing I have to try to save Star Brigade,” she insisted, her stubbornness as admirable as it was exasperating.
“And if that fails,” Norad grabbed onto Malyn’s hips, drawing her close, “and Star Brigade dies?”
“Then…” she looked up at him through her lashes, a wicked glimmer in her eyes, “and only then, will I strongly consider the possibility of joining you.”
Outworlders
2nd Lt. Tyris Iecen always enjoyed a good game of Planet Master.
Planet Master, aka PlaMa, needed at least two players, but worked better with three or more.
The strategy behind this hologame involved each player commanding some faction that strove to either defend their land or conquer the entire planet. Player options ranged from primitive tribal to post-hyperdrive society to extraterrestrial invaders, each which were customized to a player’s preferences. Many players preferred the virtual world network version, allowing for gameplay with beings on entirely different worlds. But since Tyris and his friends were all stationed on Hollus Maddrone starbase, they stuck strictly to the version of PlaMa utilizing a massive hologram planet.
Fun times and deep conversations about life had happened during many a Planet Master game. It was how Tyris had bonded with his three best friends, when they were all Star Brigade recruits.
But tonight, the Tanoeen Brigadier was late. Not his fault. He had Bevrolor of Azelten, the senior field operative in charge of Star Brigade’s ordnance division, to blame. That blockheaded of a Nubrideen had called a pointless meeting to discuss tomorrow’s mysterious all-hands meeting. Tyris had doubted that she’d provide some useful insight to him or Star Brigade’s two remaining quartermasters. And Bevrolor didn’t fail to disappoint. She had stood in the small conference room, her three eyes wide with outrage, griping over how much better she could run Star Brigade. In short, it was the same deluded, ultra-matriarchal monologue Bevrolor gave about everything.
No wonder you never got onto a combat team, Tyris mused as he had suffered through the rest of the Nubrideen’s pointless rant. Lucky for Bevrolor, the only visible features on his face were two beady pits of cobalt blue with shiny-white pupils. Since arriving in Union Space years ago, too many staring bystanders and so many stupid questions had forced the Tanoeen to hide his fluid-like maw under a mask of crystalline ice.
After an orv of his life had been wasted, Tyris raced to Hollus Maddrone’s Living Quarters. The six-foot-three-inch sculpture of chiseled, crystalline ice strode through the empty corridors at top speed. Despite cursing his own tardiness, Tyris knew the others would be forgiving. And all of them had undoubtedly heard about tomorrow’s all-hands meeting.
Soon Tyris arrived at Jan’Hax’s quarters, where everyone agreed to meet. Before entering, the Tanoeen reminded himself to avoid mentioning tomorrow’s all-hands, unless someone else did first. He had decided to worry about tomorrow’s meeting…tomorrow.
Tonight was all about PlaMa and hanging with his friends. The door slid open and the Tanoeen stepped through.
Tyris took in the room setup as soon as he entered. The small common room had been cleared out to accommodate four chairs, three of them occupied and surrounding a massive floating globe. The holo planet’s land-to-sea ratio eerily resembled the Union memberworld of Kheldoroth. Its glow spilled out into all corners of the room, but was still overpowered by the common room’s halolights.
Tyris’s trio of friends and colleagues stopped talking and turned as he entered the room. Jan’Hax sat opposite the door on the other side of the globe. His physique was tall, rangy and overly spare. He had a duck-billed snout of a mouth and leathery green skin covered in warts, typical of most Ciphereens. Khrome, of the biomechanical race called the Thulicans, was the shortest of the group at five-foot-seven. But his hulking, silvery physique more than made up for any height shortcomings.
Surje looked more humanoid than the rest, despite the dim glow of his red skin and the three rounded, mohawk-like bony crests atop his bald head. The Voton was just under six feet in height, with a lean and wiry build.
Khrome, Surje and Jan’Hax immediately responded with a boisterous “HEEEEEEY!”
“Sure, sure,” Tyris waved it off with a sharp hand chop, taking the one unoccupied seat. “Apologies for being late! We set up?”
“Yes,” Jan’Hax nodded. He kept
fiddling with something on the massive transparent planet holo between them. “Everyone’s schedule is unoccupied for the next few orvs, I gather?”
Khrome made a rude noise that sounded like metal scrapping against gravel. “I’ll only need one orv, after my invasion brings you all to your knees.”
“Playing extraterrestrial invaders again, Khrome?” Tyris asked wearily.
The Thulican smiled as wide as his noseless, cobalt-blue face would allow. “It’s the best role. I got aerospace superiority.”
“We’ll see about that,” Tyris challenged, fingering one of the large icicle-like spikes jutting backwards atop his head. Innovative as Khrome was, his PlaMa faction choices were as old-fashioned as a backwater planet dweller’s.
“Who am I?” The Tanoeen ran his fingers over his side of the globe, accessing his player data. After realizing how late Bevrolor’s rant was running, he had asked his friends to choose his faction. At a glance, Tyris instantly regretted that decision. His faction was a pre-hyperdrive culture, still using gas-powered automobiles. The Tanoeen’s annoyed expression must’ve been telling, as his three friends chuckled fiendishly.
“That’s what happens when you’re late, Ty,” Surje giggled, only to visibly fret over not clarifying what he meant, which always made the Voton over-clarify. “Late to play. The game, I mean—”
“Can we begin already?” Khrome cut in before the Voton over-clarified them all into semi-unconsciousness.
“Let’s,” Tyris rubbed his hands together. Everyone put on their thin gameplay visors, syncing with the PlaMa holo globe before them to access their resources, player options and characters.
Once all four players brought up their massive 7’x7’ holoscreens, the latest Planet Master game commenced.
Jan’Hax played as a post-hyperdrive civilization, hell-bent on unifying all nations on this fictional planet into one world government. Surje, always up for a challenge, chose a consolidated faction of moon and space station colonists, rebelling against Jan’Hax’s aspiring global empire.
