by Luna Hunter
Riley Harper.
My body throbs for her, my cock already hard at the mere thought. Every time I close my eyes I relive our conversation in the mess hall. She touched me, wrapping her fingers around mine, and I’ve never felt more alive.
I should have pulled her over the table, yanked those pajamas of her down and sunk myself deeply into her. I should have forced every last inch of my big cock into her and fucked the pain away.
Instead, I opened the cage I’ve kept closed for decades, and showed her my weakness as a result. I shamed myself, my clan, my species. For once, my father was right.
No. No, he can’t be right. For four days now, I’ve stayed in the darkness of my room. No more.
I’m going to reclaim my honor, by claiming Riley Harper.
My father would be aghast at me mating with a human, ‘diluting the family line’, but the man’s a fool. I can’t deny these feelings, this attraction. I tried to fight it, to shield myself from her, but every moment I spend without her by my side is one filled with agony. My mind aches with a dull pain, my skin prickles with heat, and my cock is restless.
I have found my life mate, and I will take her.
“Approaching Xia V,” the ships automated system chimes in.
Right on time. I tap the button for the ship-wide intercom.
“Report to the bridge. You’re going to want to see this.”
A minute later my five human guests are standing on the bridge, their face almost pressed against the window as they marvel at the sight of Xia V.
I’ve been raised from birth to hate the Tyk’ix and all that they stand for, but even I have to admit that their planet is a thing of beauty. The purple sphere orbits two suns, and as such they know no night. It’s as bright and gorgeous as an amethyst, while teal seas cover parts of its surface.
“Amazing,” Riley sighs. “Pictures don’t do it justice. Is that…?”
“Yes,” I growl. I stand right behind her, close enough to drink in her lovely scent. “That’s the Observer.”
The gigantic, circle-shaped space station is currently orbiting the planet, making it seem like Xia V has a halo. It houses millions, and travels from one Alliance planet to the next, facilitating economic and cultural exchange as it travels the universe.
A miracle of Tyk’ix technology.
I find it hard to imagine that ring ever visiting Exon Prime, but it seems that’s what our new king is after. A new dawn for Zorans, he called it.
For Zorans everywhere, I pray he’s not making a mistake. If the Tyk’ix gain access to our weaponry, then suddenly we’re not the universe’s sole hegemon anymore.
“That’s where we’re going,” I say. “I already hailed them, and we’re en-route. I’d prepare for arrival.”
“Oh god, I need to change,” Riley gasps.
I do not understand, for she looks perfect the way she does. Her brown curls frame her face, and the freckles on her nose only add to her beauty. Humans. I’ve already seen them wear more different outfits than any Zoran owns in their lifetime.
One body-hugging, form-fitting armor is all you need. Perhaps one colored shawl for festivities, if you’re feeling frisky.
My soon-to-be-mate speeds off together with Michelle. I watch her hips sway as she runs, my body yearning for her touch.
Soon. Now is not the time.
Thirty minutes later Riley emerges from her cabin, wobbling on high heels once more, and I have to adjust my earlier opinion. She looks absolutely stunning.
A satin, dark-blue dress hugs her curves in all the right places, and the long split shows off her shapely legs. Her hair is pulled into a bun, a few loose strands framing her face.
Controlling myself just became an inch harder.
“How do I look?” she asks as she puts on her earrings.
“Amazing,” I growl, my voice throaty and low.
She smiles, flashing me her white teeth. Michelle emerges a moment longer, equally dressed up, but I only have eyes for Riley. Her curves, her shapes drive me wild.
The two well-dressed woman contrast heavily with DuPont and his two cronies, who don’t make any attempt at freshening up. The ship starts it automating boarding sequence, bringing us ever closer to the ring-shaped station.
“I’m so excited,” Riley squeals as she bounces on her feet – as best she can in her strange, high-heeled footwear.
“Looking forward to meeting the Tyk’ix?”
She looks up at me, her eyebrows raised. “Yes… how did you know?
“You wrote your thesis on them, did you not?”
“I did,” she says. “But I never told you that.”
Fuck.
“How do you know that?” she insists, her face gaining color rapidly.
“I read your file,” I admit.
“You what?!” she gasps. “That’s, that’s… how could you?”
“I had to know who I’m taking on board. It’s a safety procedure. This is a military vessel. I vetted you.”
“You vetted me?” she says. Her face is now as red as the sun, a sharp contrast with her blue dress. She pokes her finger into my chest as she yells at me. “You don’t get to decide that! That’s my personal information! Have you been stalking me or something? What else did you read?”
“Nothing,” I say. Only a half-truth, but she seems like she’s ready to explode. There was nothing of value in her file, anyway.
“Calm down,” Michelle says as she tries to pull her friend back. “We’re almost there!”
However, Riley is far from calm. The outer-doors open with a hiss, but she is too angry to notice.
“I’ve never felt so violated in my life!” she yells, her tiny balled fist hitting my chest. I barely feel a thing, but I let her rage. “To think I trusted you! I thought you were different, that you were… you… you asshole!”
“Ahem.”
“WHAT?!” Riley swirls around on her heels, her fists balled up, her carefully bunned-up hair hanging to one side. Greeting her are three alien dignitaries, one for each founding member of the Intergalactic Alliance.
The purple, tentacled Tyk’ix.
The dragon-like, horned Falur.
And the brutish, long-haired and bearded Melek.
Riley’s face turns several shades of purple when she realizes she just made a fool out of herself – and the human species, by extension – in front of the welcoming committee. She bows at her waist as far as she can without falling over.
“My apologies.”
The Tyk’ix tentacles bristle. A yellow and teal, ornate dress adorns his lanky frame. They are about the same height as humans, but much more slender. Their skin is smooth and hairless, but of course their most defining features are the four tentacles that hang around their mouths. He produces a high-pitched sound that makes us all wince.
The Melek takes a step forward. His skin is bronzed, and all he’s wearing is a loin-cloth around his waist, the rest of his muscled frame bared. He nearly matches me for length, but whereas my scalp is smooth, he has a long mane of black hair. It matches his bushy, black beard. His skin is scarred, battle-worn. I respect that.
He opens his palm and offers us an ear-piece.
“Here,” he says with a thick accent. “Take.”
Tentatively, Riley takes a step forward and accepts the offer, placing the piece in her ear.
“Ah, it’s a translator-device!” she says.
We all accept the gift and place it in our ears, and now we’re able to communicate with our hosts.
“Welcome onboard the Observer,” the Falur says. “My name is Vilmar Grimsson, and these are my fellow council members, Yo’x Tina’ri and Narek Zakarian.”
Outwardly the Falur look similar to Zorans, with a few striking differences. Scales adorn part of his body, and horns are growing out of his forehead. I have only heard of his kind. According to the legends, they have the ability to transform their bodies, to shapeshift.
I never believed those stories, but I sense
great power emanating from the Falurian.
“We hope your stay will be a pleasant, and peaceful one.”
All their eyes shift to me when he says those last two words. The reputation of the Zoran is well-known throughout the entire universe, and part of why the Alliance was formed was to prove a counterweight to our dominance. While my only purpose here is to transport the humans, I am the first Zoran to ever step foot on the Observer.
“Don’t worry, we come in peace,” I growl.
“I hope that’s true, red one,” the Tyk’ix called Yo’x says.
I just nod. Vinz’s orders were loud and clear, and as much as I want to wipe their judgmental stares off their faces with my balled-up fists, I try to give them a disarming smile.
Instead, I grin like a lunatic.
That’s on Vinz for trying to make me, a born warrior, play diplomat.
Orson DuPont marches forward, brushing past Riley. He offers his sweaty palm to the three aliens, who stare hesitantly at it. It’s painfully clear Riley is the only member of the human party who’s studied their kind’s etiquette. Tyk’ix don’t touch anyone – ever. Their psionic ability makes it a hazard to both parties. The Falur greet by bashing their horns together, and Melek bow.
Exchanging limp handshakes are a human affair.
“Come on,” DuPont wheezes. “Don’t be rude.”
“Uhm, sir,” Riley says. “Bow. It’s you who’s being rude.”
DuPont shoots my female an angry glare, but the three dignitaries make no attempt to reach for his palm. Annoyed, the round man bows instead.
“We received your application for client-membership,” the Melek called Narek says, ignoring DuPont entirely. “Tomorrow, you can state your case in the Hall of Perpetual Peace. Until then you are free to enjoy the many decks of the Observer. Goodbye.”
Riley and Michelle bow deeply. “Thank you, sir. Goodbye.”
The Tyk’ix’s tentacles bristle once more, as if our presence itself deeply offends him. He scurries off, his long-flowing dress hiding his feet and making it appear he’s hovering. When they’re all gone, Riley turns back to me and hits me once more.
“Look what you made me do,” she huffs. “Embarrass myself in front of the Alliance! Ugh.”
“You did that by yourself, honey,” Michelle laughs.
“I’ll see you all tomorrow,” DuPont says briskly. He strides into the docks with the two men, Smith and Johnson, following him closely.
“Where’s he going?” Riley asks. “Shouldn’t he be, you know, doing minister-type stuff?”
“You tell me,” Michelle says. “You’re the one in charge of his agenda.”
“Not anymore,” she answers. “Who are those two guys anyway? I’ve never seen them before.”
Michelle shrugs. “Beats me. Now, let’s see if we can find a nice bar somewhere!”
“Is that all you can think about? Booze?” Riley says with a sigh. “Over a hundred different types of aliens call the Observer their home!”
“So there must be like, over a hundred different types of bars then as well, right?”
“…I suppose.”
“Then we better get started now!”
“I’m keeping a close eye on you two,” I growl. “Before you two end up in a bar on the wrong side of town.” Two single human females, dressed up as they are now? They’ll be swarmed by suitors if I don’t interfere. No one will dare approach them when I’m around.
Riley’s hazelnut eyes flash with anger for a millisecond, as if she’s considering yelling at me some more, but then her eyes soften.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” she says.
I interlock my arm with Riley’s and pull her outside, into the unknown space station.
7
Riley
The Observer is even more amazing than I ever dared to imagine. It teems with life. Strange tongues and bizarre smells overwhelm my senses. Thabo pulls me and Michelle along, his arm hooked snugly into mine, while I struggle to take it all in.
There are so many different kinds of aliens all around us; Tyk’ix, Falur, Melek, Terulian, Xythian – I’m losing count. The hallways of the station are cramped, and filled to the gills with curious shops and loud-mouthed vendors hawking their wares.
“Where are you taking us?”
“Top-side. Away from the crowds. News of our arrival has already spread,” Thabo says with a nod.
People turn their heads wherever we go. A skeevy Tyk’ix glares at me from under his hood, his violet eyes narrowing when he sees me. Thanks to the translator-device the Melek gifted us, I can overhear the many conversations that are taking place all around us.
I overhear whispers about a war brewing on Vortex Station, among other gossip and talk. I’m surprised to hear the word humans dropped over and over. Apparently, we’re the talk of the town.
“Oh, look, a bar!” Michelle chimes. “Let’s go!”
She rips herself free from my grasp and practically runs away, heading into a seedy looking place called the Dragon’s Den. A deep-green Falur guards the door, a claw having marked his face. I wouldn’t go near that place in a million years, but Michelle walks straight past the guard.
“I’ll get her,” Thabo growls. “Don’t move.”
The Zoran speeds after my friend, leaving me alone. I stand in the middle of the walkway, aliens brushing past me on every side. I imagined this moment my entire life, and now it’s finally here.
I’m millions of miles from home, surrounded by remarkable beings with their own customs, their own languages, their own way of life. I want to befriend all of them, I want to study their culture, their heritage. There’s so much to learn, it’s almost overwhelming!
I’ve studied every last file we have on these aliens front to back. Everything humanity knows about them, I’ve read. Despite all of that knowledge, nothing could have prepared me for this feeling, this sensation. This is a pivotal moment in human history.
We’ve known we aren’t alone in the universe for a while now, but here on the Observer, we’re not just taking a small step, or a giant leap – we’re plunging into the unknown depths of the universe.
And I’m here, witnessing it firsthand.
Thabo has pre-occupied my every waking thought, preventing me from taking into the account the historic importance of our mission. Maybe I’ll be in the history books someday. Oh, who am I kidding – Orson DuPont will be plastered all over this. He’ll get the fame and glory, and I might get a footnote.
But that’s okay, too.
“A pest, they are. Spread like the plague. Not much different from the Ygg, if you ask me. Softer, squishier, but they breed just as fast. How long before they’ve taken over? One cycle? Two at most?”
“Nonsense. They’re harmless. They’ve barely crawled out of their primordial soup – how could they ever eclipse us?”
“Ha! Yes, they are weak, now. When Xi’on was emperor, they were still hunters and gatherers, no better than apes. Now, they are here, applying for membership! Humans, members of the Intergalactic Alliance! Can you imagine anything more insulting?”
I can’t help but overhear the two arguing Tyk’ix. They’re resting against a sleazy, run-down pharmacy that seems to deal in all kinds of alien body-parts. I shudder when I see disembodied eyes floating in water through the shop’s window.
None of the files I’ve read mentioned this. Of course, we’ve had witch-doctors back on Earth who said consuming a ground-up rhino’s horn would help with your virility and other such nonsense, but thankfully, that kind of barbarism is a hundred years in the past.
I’m shocked to see the Tyk’ix are not as advanced as I imagined them to be. The conversation the two aliens are having is even more disconcerting.
“You worry too much. There’s no way Emperor Yi’xo will accept the humans. They’ll be out of here as quick as they came.”
The Tyk’ix spits on the ground. A foul, neon yellow liquid simmers on the station floor.
“I’m not so sure. I’ve heard the Melek are in favor of bringing them in – you know those naïve barbarians. Always looking to bring more species into the fold, broadening the alliance as far as possible. It was a mistake to ever invite them, if you ask me.”
“The Falur have enough common sense to stop them. They’ll never allow human members. They’re already worried about their position as it is. More members will just weaken their hold. They won’t allow it.”
“I hope so, but I fear the worst. I still say we should eradicate them while we have the chance. We don’t want to repeat the mistake we made with the Ygg.”
“And suffer the wrath of the Zoran? Their new king is mated to a human. If we attack the humans, we attack the Zoran. And how will the other alliance members react to such aggression?
“Pfeah,” the Tyk’ix answers, his tentacles shuddering. “Of course I’m not suggesting all out-war. A strategically placed biological weapon will do just fine.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The aliens voices are wet and sloshy, like a mop being wringed, but the remarkable ear-piece translates it into Universal for me. My whole body is shaking, my fists balled up. I spent years studying the Tyk’ix and their psionic powers, and I always imagined them to be the pinnacle of grace, but now I’m sorely disappointed.
Scratch that. I’m seething with rage.
With their smooth, violet skin and their flowing, multi-colored robes, the aliens have always reminded me of wizards. My dad used to read his favorite fantasy novels to me before bed, and the Tyk’ix psionic abilities are the closest thing to magic I’ve ever heard about. Now, I realize they don’t just look like sorcerers, but they share their callousness, their complete disregard for life.
The two aliens are talking about all of humanity like it’s a bug that needs squashing. I didn’t think we’d be welcomed with open arms into the Alliance, but I didn’t imagine I’d hear people advocating genocide either.
I march towards the two Tyk’ix with steam blowing out of my ears.
“Listen here you creeps. We have every right to be here as you! You’re lucky I don’t charge you with conspiracy to commit war-crimes!”
