by Luna Hunter
They scare the crap out of me.
My best friend rolls her eyes. “What do you take me for?” she says, feigning being offended.
“It wouldn’t be the first time. Remember Snyder II? We only got out just in time!”
She shrugs her shoulder. “That was different! How was I supposed to know that my mascara was a controlled substance on their planet?”
“So it was a total coincidence you found someone to buy it off you for a few thousand credits?”
“It totally was,” she says. “Besides, I gave you half of that money, remember?”
“Yeah, and it only barely covered the expenses of having our damaged ship repaired after those cops opened fire on us.”
“We got out of there in one piece, didn’t we?”
“Barely.”
“Barely still counts. Anyway, that was a Suricat planet. I’m not stupid enough to try to pull the same stunt on the Zoran homeworld. I like to live dangerously, but I do like to live.”
“Aha! So you admit it!”
“Can we stop focusing on me and start worrying about the giant Zoran military blockade preventing us from delivering our cargo?”
“Right,” I say. “We get to the heart of the matter and now you want to start talking Zoran. If I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to take a few days off, remember? A little rest & recuperation? ‘Big bad Zorans’, I think you called them.”
“Yeah yeah, go ahead and tease me,” Evelyn says. “There’s a difference between your average, run-of-the-mill alien hunk and the Zoran warlord that’s about to take our ship.”
“They can’t take our ship,” I say. “They won’t.”
“I hope so,” Evelyn says. “But this doesn’t look good. Something is terribly wrong here.”
The entire ship shakes as we dock, and a cold fear grips my heart. They can’t just take my ship. I poured every credit I have into this bucket of rust. It’s the only way I can scrape together a few credits. Without it, I’ll never be able to give Brock a real home, or pay for his tuition.
“They’ll have to go through me if they want this ship,” I mutter.
Evelyn chuckles. “I’ll remember to tell them that.”
The com crackles. “Prepare to be boarded,” an ominous voice says.
“Showtime,” I tell my best friend as I rise to my feet. I walk down to the docking hatch, doing my best keep my breathing under control.
I’m going to be nothing but polite. That’s the first rule when dealing with customs officers. The second rule is ‘don’t start any intergalactic conflicts’. If you can help it, anyway.
The door slides open and my breath stops in my throat.
The biggest, meanest looking Zoran I’ve ever seen is looking down at me. His eyes, as bright and yellow as the sun itself, immediately capture my attention.
He’s tall, broad, just big in every sense of the word. The top of my head barely reaches past his chest. Obsidian armor hugs every single one of his many muscles perfectly. I notice an axe and a blaster strapped to his waist, and my eyes quickly glance over the giant bulge I can’t help but see.
I feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I stare incredulously at the alien warrior. I knew Zorans were big, but reading about them or standing face-to-face with one is a world of difference. Nothing could have prepared me for this.
I search for the right words, but nothing comes out of my mouth except stammering.
“Identify yourself,” the warrior says threateningly.
His skin is as red as a ruby. I wonder if he is the same color all over…
“Identify yourself, human,” he growls again. He leans forward, towering over me.
“You first,” I hear myself say.
Where the hell did that come from?
“This is my ship, so we play by my rules.”
Have I totally lost it?!
The Zoran’s jaw tightens, and his eyes flicker with anger. I fear he’s going to throw me up against the wall. There’s absolutely nothing I could do to stop him.
“General Drakan,” he growls, his voice low and primal.
I can feel the sound reverberate inside my chest, making my stomach flutter. I swallow and push my nerves away. Time for Captain Kingsley to show her teeth.
“Hannah Kingsley,” I say. “Welcome to my humble freighter.”
He pushes past me, forcing me flat against the wall as he walks past, his strong forearms brushing right against my chest. A current runs through me, but I bite my bottom lip and try to push it away.
This is no time for my deep-seated fantasies to rear their heads.
“What are you transporting?” he says, his radiant eyes scanning my frame. His eyes travel across my entire body, from head to toe.
I cross my arms over my chest, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.
“Chocolate, like the cargo report says.”
Whoops. His eyes narrow as he stares at me, the frown on his face deepening. Maybe I shouldn’t try to be smart with this general…
“I don’t believe you.”
I shrug my shoulders in frustration. What does this alien want from me?
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth!”
“That is the truth!”
“What would Zorans want chocolate for?!”
“Don’t ask me! Go ask, uhh… Key’s and Bey’s Tea Emporium,” I say, glancing at the cargo report on my com-device.
He taps a button on his chest, and a squadron of Zoran warriors storms into the room. I have to press my back flat against the wall to make room for the broad-shouldered aliens.
“Search the ship,” he commands them, and they spread themselves all over the freighter.
In the distance I hear Evelyn yelping, and a second later a warrior turns the corner with my best friend slung over his shoulder. She’s struggling and kicking, but it doesn’t seem to impact the alien marine in the slightest.
“Put her down!” I say. “That’s my mechanic!”
The warrior looks at his general, who gives him a quick nod. Evelyn is placed down on her feet. I can see her face is as red as beet, her chest rising with every deep breath.
If I didn’t know any better I would say that she’s flustered.
The general keeps his eyes on me the entire time, that frown of his not leaving his face. His soldiers all report back one by one, saying they haven’t found a single thing of note on my vessel.
I pray that this altercation is soon behind us, but the angry stare that the leader is giving me is telling me it’s far from over.
“And what’s in here?” Drakan asks me, knocking on the metal door of a storage tank.
“Chocolate,” I answer, doing my best not to roll my eyes.
I know Zorans are arrogant, cocky, and stubborn, but I had no idea they were hard of hearing as well.
“So you don’t mind if I open it?” Drakan asks, placing one hand on the wheel.
“I do!” I say, my heartbeat rising instantly. “That tank is pressurized! If you open it, you’ll ruin the merchandise! There’s liquid chocolate worth thousands of credits behind that door!”
His eyes, as yellow as sunshine, stare right into mine.
“Not hiding any Tyk’ix in here?”
“I’m not an alien trafficker,” I say, exasperated. “Just an honest trucker trying to make a living. Please.”
I’m losing my patience. If he turns that wheel too far… the entire room will be covered in a chocolate explosion.
He ignores my plea and places both of his big hands on the handle. I rush towards him, placing my palms on his huge chest.
“Stop!”
He looks right at me… and turns the handle.
4
Drakan
I turn the handle, ignoring the human’s frantic pleas. This female is hiding something. Why would two females work in shipping, and take on jobs that take them so far from their homeworld? It doesn’t make any sense.
They a
re probably smuggling Tyk’ix in the cargo hold, or perhaps even bombs. I can’t rule anything out at this point.
Captain Kingsley’s eyes plead with me. They are big and as blue as sapphires, but they do not move me. I have fully dedicated my life to my military order.
Love, women, lust — it has never been a part of my life. All my focus has been on sculpting my body to be a perfect tool of war.
Despite this, I have to admit that the human captain’s figure is exceptionally fine. Her beige flight suit hugs her curves in all the right places. A body like hers would be particularly well-fitted for bearing children. With hips like hers, she could even bear a Zoran child.
Not that it matters. I’m here to do my job, not think about what having children with this female would be like. Anger rushes through my veins when I realize that her big, blue eyes are distracting me.
My armor feels a size too small as my skin prickles with heat. I’ve never felt a sensation like this before. It is unknown to me — and most unwelcome. I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders right now.
I turn the storage tank’s wheel another few inches.
Boom!
It flies open in an instant, the pressure inside taking me by surprise.
Splash!
A waterfall of liquid, the color of autumn washes over me. I stand frozen for half a second, surprised, off-balance, as the chocolate covers me from head to toe. It’s even inside my mouth, the bitter sweetness overwhelming my delicate senses.
My face, my body — every inch of me is drenched in the stuff.
Within the blink of an eye I close the hatch once again, turning the handle, stopping the flow of chocolate.
It seems my instinct was wrong.
“What have you done?!”
I turn to face the human female. Her face is red as a supernova, her blue eyes now filled with rage.
“Look at you! You ruined my shipment! Look at this place! Do you know how long cleaning this is going to take?!”
My eyes travel down my frame, but I cannot see my own red skin, or even my black armor.
All I see is chocolate, like I am a coated toy, or a delicacy of some kind. I feel my cheeks burn with anger and embarrassment. It’s an alien feeling, one I have gone to great lengths to avoid. I am a general. A born leader. My men respect and admire me.
And now, I see their faces are about to crack. Their lips do not move, but their eyes tell a different story. I will not be able to live this story down.
The room itself is coated in chocolate as well. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling has chocolate dripping down from it. My broad frame took the brunt of the force, however.
“Aren’t you going to apologize?!”
The human female prods my chest with her finger.
I have killed for less.
In the blink of an eye I grab her wrist and twist it behind her back.
“Never speak to me like that again,” I whisper into her ear.
She yanks her hand free, rubbing her sore, chocolate-covered wrist.
“Aren’t you at least going to reimburse me for all of this?” she asks, pointing at the mess I’ve made.
“Leave this system at once,” I say as I square my shoulders. “And never return.” I nod at my men to move out, and they move out in a single file like the well-oiled machine they are.
“W-wait!” the female says. “Wh-where are you going? Hey!”
I follow my men. My feet stick to the floor with every step, leaving a trail of chocolate, every single movement a reminder of my own hubris.
No, not hubris. My thoroughness. My dedication to keeping Exon Prime safe. Yes, that’s it.
Behind me, I hear the human female alternatively cursing me or pleading for me to stay and clean this mess up.
As if I, a Zoran General, entrusted to prepare our homeworld for an alien invasion, have time to scrub the floors of this rusty bucket!
If anything, I raised its value.
I lick my lips, the chocolate taste filling my mouth. It’s both bitter and sweet, a strange combination, but not an unpleasant one.
“General… by Zora, what happened to you?!” Janko says when he meets me in the hallways of the ZMC Dreadnaught.
“Ignore this,” I glare. “What is it?”
He gives me a status update, informing me that the other fleets are still a day’s travel away. We’re on our own.
“Is that all?”
“No, wait,” Janko says. He dips his finger into the chocolate and sticks his finger in his mouth. “Mm. Good.”
“Never do that again,” I growl before marching straight to my personal quarters. I disrobe, letting my cocoa-covered armor drop on the floor, and step under the mighty rays of my personal shower.
The warm water washes the sweetness away, revealing my own fire-red skin once more. I go through the encounter once more, playing it out in my mind, questioning everything that happened. It’s something I do after every mission, because I know there is always room for improvement. I strive for perfection.
Perhaps Janko was right — I didn’t need to see to this inspection personally, but that is my leadership style. I am on top of everything. Including mundane tasks such as this one. I expect nothing but the very best of all my men.
I decide my course of action was the right one. I can’t trust a human female on her word. To my surprise and annoyance, my mind keeps drifting to her shapely thighs, her buxom breasts, her thick lips and her flowing blonde hair, rather than focusing on the facts of the case.
The heat in my body rises, and I can feel my cock grow as I imagine what she would look like, her entire curvy body dripping with chocolate. I’d lick every inch of her clean…
No.
I shake my head.
Focus, Drakan.
The human female is gone, and will never return.
5
Hannah
“So… what did you think of him?”
I’m on my knees, scrubbing the floor, trying to get as much of the sticky chocolate off the metals panels as I can. My hair is tied up in a bun, my entire jumpsuit covered in smudges. I glance up at Evelyn, who sits on a crate, her legs folded underneath of her.
“Of who?”
“Of that Zoran general of course! Can you believe they sent an actual general here to inspect us? They must really be expecting trouble. I wonder what’s happening out there.”
“Shouldn’t you be helping me, instead of daydreaming about alien warlords?”
“It’s not in my job description,” Evelyn answers. “I clean engines, not floors.”
“Why about getting a foot up your ass? Is that in your job description as well? Because I’m getting mighty close to it!” I huff.
“Alright alright, don’t worry, I’ll help,” she sighs as she rolls up her sleeves.
“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in that mean brute. Not one bit.”
“Why not? I saw the way he looked at you.”
“You mean ‘glared incessantly’.”
“Exactly. You know what they say when you hold eye contact with someone longer than ten seconds, right? They say you’re going to fight… or fuck.”
A shiver runs down my spine. Fucking that tall, imposing, scary warlord is the last thing on my mind right now.
“I just want to get out of here as soon as possible, and get back to Brock before I find out what all the warships blockading the planet are actually for.”
“Wouldn’t watching an interstellar space battle be really cool though?”
“Cool?” I ask. “Cool? People die, Evelyn!”
“I know that,” she says. “But if you just… ignore that for a second. Then you have to admit that space battles are freaking awesome. All those ships, just thousands of tons of metal going at it, lasers, explosions…”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, if you ignore the immense cost of life, the damage it does to civilization, the money that has been pumped into these warships, which could have been used for
affordable housing, or free healthcare, or education, then yes, I guess explosions are pretty cool. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“See, we’re not so different,” Evelyn answers, ignoring my pointed comeback.
“Please. We couldn’t be more different.”
“Not true. We both have the hots for that Zoran general. What was his name again? Drakan. Drakan. It sounds so primal and raw, like a predator.”
To my own surprise, I feel angry and jealous at the same time.
“First of all, I do not have ‘the hots’ for him. As far as I’m concerned he’s a scary killer.”
“I know,” Evelyn says. “That’s what makes him so hot, isn’t it?”
I shake my head. Sometimes I get the idea that Evelyn is from a different planet entirely. She has the worst taste in men imaginable.
“And secondly?” she asks.
“Secondly,” I say, my voice dropping down to a whisper. “I don’t remember him giving you a single look.”
“Aha!” Evelyn cries, throwing her chocolate-covered paper towel right at me. “See, I knew you cared! I’ve known you longer than today, missy. You can’t hide it from me. You can lie to yourself, perhaps, but not to me. I know you want him.”
I throw the towel right back at her.
“Listen to me,” I say, my cheeks burning brightly. “Listen very carefully for I will only say this once. I will never ever ever fall in love with a Zoran, okay? Not now and not ever, and especially not with such an impossible, arrogant, impatient, dominant general like Drakan. Got it?”
“You protest too much,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “But I’ll remember. I’ll remember that you’re a big fat liar.”
I shake my head and go back to scrubbing the floor. There’s no winning this argument. Nothing I can say will convince Evelyn that I am not interested in that Zoran general, no matter how radiant his eyes are or how broad his chest is.
We’re quickly running out of paper towels. A professional clean-up job is needed, but that’s going to take both time and credits, the two things we don’t have in abundance. This will have to do until we get back to Earth. I just hope the smell doesn’t get too bad. Too much of something is always a bad thing — even if it is the smell of chocolate.
“Besides,” Evelyn shrugs, “he didn’t look so mean when he was covered in chocolate, right? He reminded me of the biggest chocolate easter bunny I’ve ever seen.”
