by Sky Winters
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 swallowed 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 h
ere.”
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 the 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!
As soon as she stood up from the bed, she immediately regretted it. Her leg still felt like a limp noodle. Keandra held onto the bed so she would not completely fall to the hard steel floor.
“Albi…” she called, feeling disoriented. “Albion?”
The tall, lizard man strode into the room. He was wearing a face mask that one might wear whilst welding, but he pushed it up so she could see his face again and not be alarmed at his sudden, 1950s sci-fi appearance.
Not that Albion knew what sci-fi was. Or the 1950s, for that matter.
“What is it?” he asked. “Why are you out of your sleeping pod?”
Keandra looked at the bed and then up at him, into his eyes. “I don’t want to stay cooped up in here. I want to help.”
He pulled off the mask completely and set it aside on the counter under the first aid cabinet. He scratched his dark blue scruff. “The best way that you can help me right now is by resting and getting better,” he said.
She kept her eyes on his. “I don’t need a hero.”
The truth was that she appreciated Albion’s help, and she wanted to return the favor. They were going to be flying around together for a while now, unless he planned to just drop her off somewhere as soon as he could be rid of her… And it did not seem like that was his plan. They were in this rebellion together, and she wanted to continue to do her part.
“I won’t do anything that further injures myself,” Keandra added, trying to persuade him. “I’ll even do a task that can be done sitting down.”
He sighed finally. “Fine. Come with me.”
CHAPTER TWO
Albion’s spaceship was much larger than Keandra initially thought. He led her to a room full of metallic parts. She lifted one up and admired her reflection. Her light brown skin was covered in cuts and bruises; her reddish-brown hair was unkempt from falling out of its customary ponytail during her nap. Her large, green eyes were sad and nervous-looking.
She could see why he was so keen to keep her resting. He pitied her, because she looked absolutely pitiful. Looking back up at him, she cocked an eyebrow. “So, what are we doing here? Building a robot?”
He shook his head at her, and then gave a small shrug. “Maybe something like that. Sit on that stool over there and polish for me.”
Keandra did as she was ordered and limped over to a black stool. She sat down and began polishing the metal bits with a dirty old rag. It struck her as amusing that the Gekkota were not so different from Earthlings. They did mundane tasks like anyone else. And they did them in pretty much the same way.
She looked out the window while she worked, gazing down at the gray planet below them. It resembled Earth’s moon, but it was darker, harder, and inhospitable. Turning away from it, she looked back at Albion, who was assembling the shined pieces together into something that looked more like armor than a robot.
Was he planning to attack the Hoths? That was pretty bad ass of him.
“I never thanked you for rescuing me and taking care of my leg,” Keandra said, feeling a bit sheepish now. “I mostly wanted to punch you for putting space goop in my open wound. But thank you.”
Albion lowered the pieces he was working on soldering. He did another slow, reptilian blink. “You’re welcome,” he said.
Suddenly, the spaceship rumbled and jolted upward. Keandra let out a scream. Albion dropped the armor and rushed to her, catching her before she fell. “What was that?” she asked, looking into his eyes searchingly. “Have they found us?”
Placing a finger to her lips, he shook his head. “Probably just a passing star.”
“Probably?” she asked him. “I don’t like that word. That’s not comforting.”
Another jolt, but this time he was holding her so she did not feel quite so scared.
After looking around, making sure that his metal pieces were unharmed – scattered haphazardly now, but unharmed – he gazed into Keandra’s eyes.
