Alien Captive

by Lee Savino

  I stare at him, with no idea what to say when he's obviously so excited and I am so confused.

  Practically chortling, he turns away and when he turns back he has a glass of water in his hand. "Here, drink. You will need to keep hydrated, well-fed, and rested. Obviously, the bonding process is harder on a Tsenturion-human pairing than two Tsenturions."

  Obediently, I take the glass and drink as I try to remember the moments before I passed out. What was I feeling? Loneliness. Extreme, soul-crushing loneliness. The sort I never let myself dwell on. On Earth it was easy to pretend I was an introvert or super independent, that I was too busy for more than a quick chat with a student while refilling my water bottle at the yoga studio. I'd told myself I was happy that way.

  Out here, in deep, alien space, without a human or anyone I know, I can’t hide from the feelings anymore. And when they were amplified by Gavrill and his own deep, untreated angst...I literally had all the feels.

  “So basically I fainted.” Thanks, nanotech. Not enough that I have to deal with my own emotions, now I might have to deal with someone else's? And exactly how deeply permanent is this bond going to be? "Is this going to be a common occurrence?"

  The doctor waves a disc shaped instrument over my body, hovering a moment over my heart until it gives a satisfied beep. He shrugs. “As your brainwaves seem to have adjusted, I do not think it will happen again, although we must make allowances for your biological differences.”

  “You mean the fact that I’m a human and not made for bonding.”

  “Not made for it, perhaps, but obviously it is possible," he says, smiling widely again, obviously overjoyed at the prospect. "If you felt his emotions then the bonding is already progressing further than I would have guessed."

  I fidget. I'm not sure I want to get used to the bond, but honestly, I can already feel something tugging at me, demanding to know where my master is. Even if I don't want to necessarily think of him as my master or my mate. “Where’s Gavrill?”

  I want to know what he thinks of all these sudden revelations.

  “He wanted to be here,” Medik says, his voice turning sympathetic. "His presence was required on the bridge, as it is his turn for a shift. Arkdhem is already waiting for you in the next room and he will escort you to wherever you wish while the High Commander is captaining the ship.” With a wave of his hand, Medik summons a floating chair so he can perch close to me. "You are certainly well enough to go, but before you leave I wished to have some time to speak with you.”

  I eye him warily and he makes an amused sound, close to a chuckle. “Nothing invasive, I assure you. I merely wish to see how you’re settling in.”

  “Really?” Despite how nice he's been right now, despite his relationship with Gavrill, I can't help but glare at him. This... male who suggested the Tribute program in the first place. Who is just thrilled that I'm successfully bonding to an alien master I never wanted. Who insists that other women should also be abducted and put into my position. I don’t want to be nice. I want to rant. “You want to know how I’ve been treated? Imagine being transported from your home in the middle of the night. Imagine waking up in a strange place millions of light years away and being told you can never go back. Imagine a big, strong, weird but hot alien doing all sorts of things to you that you’d only read about—only it’s twenty times more intense in real life—and he’s going to do it over and over again no matter how many times you orgasm or beg him to stop—and worse! He makes you like it…”

  I stop to catch my breath. I’ve been shouting but the doctor doesn’t seem to mind. I’ve also gotten myself worked up in other ways. My body is primed from just thinking about Gavrill’s ‘bonding’ methods. “And then you’re expected to be with him forever, with no say so in your future, and have his babies and wear filmy dresses while he parades you around on a leash and... hell, I don’t know. This whole thing is a fantasy gone way, way too far. That you want to bring more women here is just... Look, I get it, but this whole situation is fucked up. It might be a good solution on paper, but that doesn't make it any less wrong.”

  There’s silence as the doctor waits to make sure I’ve finished. Then he nods, sighing. Some of the joy has leaked out of his face, which makes me feel a little better.

  “I understand, and I do not disagree with you, but being on the other side of the equation, I do not feel we have a choice. And things are not too bad, are they? You appear the be adjusting admirably. The courting rituals of your people are very close to the rituals of ours, so perhaps that accounts for some of it.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “Those books are not our courting rituals.”

  “But they come from your manuals, and the methods outlined in them seem to be working, though, even better than I thought they would. Gavrill requested them, and I suspect he's been following them to the letter, although I encouraged him to use more… intuitive methods. You must realize he’s been a soldier for deca-cycles. He thrives on rules and regulations, especially during times of crises. And we have been in a crisis for a long, long time.”

  “Since your planet was destroyed,” I blurt, and mentally kick myself at the doctor’s wince. His face goes blank in a way that makes me suspect he’s hiding great pain.

  “Yes,” he agrees softly. “The greatest catastrophe any species has borne. You cannot be too hard on him.”

  “Says you. You’re not going to be... biologically bonded to a guy who thinks that spanking is required foreplay!” I blush but forge on. “All these years floating around space, and he never found the time to learn about relationships. He doesn’t even know your name!” I throw up my hands. Medik looks on patiently and doesn’t correct me. “And when it’s time to learn about bonding, he reads BDSM novels as his guide—”

  “The Jabol informed me those manuals were widely read. They are popular, no?”

  I flush. “Well, yes, but—”

  “The Commander wished to integrate your courtship rituals into our own. He was pleased they were so well structured.”

  “Look, those books aren’t talking about relationships manuals. They’re fictional, meant to be read for pleasure, not as guides.”

  “But surely you want your bonding to include pleasure.” Medik looks confused.

  Argh, why is this so hard to explain? Maybe Tsenturions don't have a concept of fiction?

  “Well, yes, but not like that...I mean, I don’t want that sort of pleasure all the time.” Great, now I'm blushing and talking about my sex life with a guy who looks like a grandfather, but I started it, so it's hard to complain.

  Medik makes a sound I translate as disbelief.

  “Well, maybe I do. In the bedroom. But I want him to treat me like a person, not a pet.”

  Now Medik looks even more confused, his head tilting to the side as he waits for me to continue.

  “I mean, you want me to be the savior of your race. The one who starts this whole breeding program. Half the time Gavrill treats me like a... naughty little girl, and the other half like a thing, a trophy on a shelf or a prized pet he can show off and sit on his lap and feed…”

  “You dislike this treatment? Your responses say otherwise.” Medik gestures to the machine just as it gives a smug beep. He still appears confused. "Our females have always been pampered and protected. They too enjoyed the courtship rituals."

  Crap, I’m making a muddle of this.

  “I just want him to treat me like a person. I’m not totally opposed to the... structure. The punishment/reward games. But deep down, I need to know he respects me. Wants me—and not just for my body. For my... for who I am. For me.”

  “Ah,” Medik tilts his head. “You are speaking of bonding.”

  “Bonding... is that like…” I can’t quite bring myself to say “love.” I take a deep breath and start over. “You were bonded, right?”

  Again, the blank face, shielded against showing pain. “Yes.”

  I swallow my apology. He shouldn’t have abducted me
if he didn’t want a troublesome Tribute on his hands. “How does it work?”

  “Bonding happens in stages."

  For the first time, he looks away from me. The expression on his face is a little distant, like he's seeing something that's not there.

  “How long were you bonded?” I ask curiously.

  “Almost twenty deca-cycles.”

  I calculate quickly in my head.

  “Two hundred years,” I whisper in shock.

  Medik smiles. A sad smile, his eyes still staring at something that I can't see. “We met at a mating festival, but it took several meetings before I was able to begin the courtship. Once we pledged to each other, the bonding was swift. It was the most glorious experience I will have in this lifetime.”

  I swallow. “Did she…?”

  “She was on planet, along with our offspring.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It was quick, at least.” He passes a hand over his face and murmurs so quietly I wonder if I’m supposed to hear him. “My only regret I that was not with them.”

  I sag back on the floating table and cover my own face with my hands. Giving myself and Medik some semblance of privacy. As much as I want to be angry with him, it's really hard. If he were a hardened soldier, or as much as an ass as Gavrill can be sometimes, it would be easier. But he's very open and very patient and kind. He's just trying to do what is best for his people, just as I am for mine. And he's doing it while grieving his family and probably dealing with the biggest case of survivor's guilt in the galaxy.

  My emotions are running through me too fast to catch or understand.

  I try to break things down logically as I catch my breath. There's been a lot of new information in a very short period of time.

  Fact 1: I am an alien captive and will probably be one for the rest of my life.

  Fact 2: I belong to the High Commander, and he is doing everything he can to bind me to him. But apparently the bond goes both ways.

  "If Gavrill and I fully bond... there won't be any chance of me going back to Earth, will there?" My voice isn’t as bleak as I thought it would be. What’s happened has happened and I can’t think of anything I can do to change it. If anything, I’m becoming resigned to that fact.

  The look Medik gives me is sympathetic. “A broken bond is more than painful. There would always be something missing, a void that could never be filled. That's if it were physically possible for you to even return. The wormhole the Jabols used is unstable. Just one journey is perilous. I doubt the path can be reversed, but even if you could return that way, you probably would not survive a second trip."

  I gape slightly at him. Yeah, I remember how much it hurt to be brought through, but I hadn't imagined it was quite that dangerous—just painful.

  “But you will keep bringing women through it?" I ask, and—again—I can hear the resignation in my voice, along with a hefty amount of censure.

  “We don’t have a choice. We need females to bear offspring, or our race will not survive. You have made good points though. I will speak to the Jabols and make sure the screening process selects women who don’t have any strong ties to Earth. Who display fortitude as well as an interest in the Tsenturion way of life and indicate a willingness to live the life they read of.”

  “You’re basing all of this off a few stories on an e-reader.” I facepalm, because seriously, what else is there to do? “It’s not a foolproof process.”

  “The Jabols studied your race from afar. They determined the most effective way of communication is through story. They also experimented with sound waves and frequencies, but felt the messages weren’t clearly received.”

  “Wait, what? Sound waves? What kind of sound waves?”

  “A form of entertainment that your species uses. I believe they called the experiment ‘electropop’.”

  “Oh my god.” I wrack my brain for everything I know about the 80s music style that involves synthesizers. “You mean the members of Daft Punk are really aliens?”

  “They received the first messages, yes. The program was changed when the Jabols found the transmissions were better received when translated by female humans. Two messengers became very popular. One was called “Madonna,” and the other was referred to as “Lady Gaga.”

  “No way. Madonna and Lady Gaga’s music was inspired by alien transmissions?” I think about it for all of a second before nodding. “That explains a lot.”

  We look at each other and I finish off the water in my glass, trying to think of something else to say. I can't think of anything though. Medik still has something left that he wants to address though.

  “I take it your worry about the Tribute program is for future Tributes and their ability to assimilate their duties. But what about you, Dawn? Do you think you could be happy as a Tribute?”

  I blink at the kindly old alien. He’s basically said out loud what I’ve been afraid to admit. I’m not totally hating my experience as a captive alien bride. There’s been lots of kinky punishments and erotic pain, yes, but Gavrill hasn’t really hurt me. The sex is fantastic. The male is... well if I'd met him on Earth I might have found him stodgy and bossy, but there's also a lot to like about him. And part of me even likes the stodgy, bossy parts.

  Not that I’m actually falling for him. No way. But the reassurance that my alien master will care for me, keep me safe, and treat me well is important. It’s simple self-preservation.

  Even if it feels like more.

  “Tell me this. Do you think he’ll ever…” I choke on the word, “c-care for me? Not as a Tribute or for what I represent, but for me, as an equal? The way he would for a Tsenturion woman he bonded with?”

  “I think, from what I've learned today, that you two have a chance of completing a full bond, in the Tsenturion manner. Emotionally as well as biologically. And once the bond is complete, yes, he will care for you, although I cannot say that his treatment of you will drastically change.” The doctor watches me carefully. “Is this what you wish? That he care for you?”

  “Yes.” As I say the word, I realize that yes, that's exactly what I want. Not just to make the best of this situation, but also because I actually am coming to care for him. Sure, there's some part of me that cynically thinks my brain chemistry has been all messed up by everything since I barely know him... but at the same time I feel a stronger attachment to him than I ever have to anyone on Earth.

  Maybe that's what the bond is, a way to join two beings together in a much faster manner than we do it on Earth. That's certainly how it sounded to me when Frllil explained it during my training. Like soulmates. I'd been skeptical at the time, but now I can't deny that I feel a physical and emotional yearning for the High Commander. I can't think of another way to explain the depth and strength of that yearning after so short a period of time.

  I want the bond. I want him to care for me. Because I want him to feel the same things I am. And maybe once the bond is formed, I'll have more influence on him. Medik already seems open to being more selective about choosing Tribute candidates. Since I'm already stuck here, I just have to do what I can.

  I lick my lips. "What can I do to um, facilitate the bond forming?"

  "Exactly what you have been," Medik says, smiling almost like a proud father. "The bond usually manifests physically at first. From the amount of time you've spent in his cabin, I would say you're well on your way there. Our courtship rituals truly are not so different; the more possessive and protective he feels over you, the deeper all of his emotions become. I have read your manuals. Submitting to him in the manner of your people is close enough to Tsenturion courtship rituals, but do not make it too easy on him. Not that I can see that happening."

  So there's some hope. We could have a full bond. He might come to care for me, even love me in the Tsenturion way... but it sounds like the courtship has to be more than just hot sex even if that's where it begins. Somehow, I have to teach a big, dominant alien who is over a thousand years old and has never had a
real relationship, to emote. No biggie.

  I take a deep breath, clenching my fists together in determination and I nod. "Okay. I can do this."

  Medik looks at me, his eyes filled with so much hope it's almost painful, because it's not just hope for me—it's hope for the future of his entire people. “If anyone can teach him how to bond, Dawn, it’s you.”

  11

  Gavrill

  Arriving on the bridge, I relieve Corin of duty, extremely thankful that Bogdan is not on duty and hopefully knows nothing of my lateness. If I am truly lucky, he will never learn of it. My second is the only one capable of reprimanding me, and he would be correct to.

  Fortunately, Corin does not know why I am late and—unlike Bogdan—does not demand an explanation. In many ways, Bogdan is more like a sibling to me than an underling; other than my Tribute, there are none other in our fleet who would challenge me the way he does. I doubt he would appreciate the comparison, although my Tribute might.

  Dawn.

  Her name echoes through my mind even as I read through Corin's shift log.

  Medik used her name. So did Arkdhem. I used it when I was pleasuring her... perhaps I should do so more often. She did ask it of me in the beginning, I remember. While her name does not give me the same visceral satisfaction as calling her my Tribute, there is something intimate about it.

  My Dawn.

  I will think on it.

  But for now... I force myself to focus on the readout Corin left behind. It doesn't make any sense.

  Frowning, I look up at Corin, who has been standing off to the side waiting for me to read his log, rather than quitting the bridge. Obviously, he anticipated I would want to speak of the strange events he reported. I could feel the crew glancing at us from the corners of their eyes, probably waiting for my reaction. They've been on duty for a while, although not as long as Corin—it would not do to have the entire bridge crew changing shift all at the same time—so they are well aware of the anomalies as well.