Alien Survivor: (Stranded on Galatea) An Alien SciFi Romance

by Juniper Leigh

  After Tymer had finished translating for Fegar, he glared openly at Mireena.

  “I am rightful Chieftain,” he protested. “I should not have to fight this man a second time.”

  “You are free, then, to abdicate all of your power to him now, if you prefer not to fight,” Tymer said in perfect Qeteshi.

  If he could have blushed, I believe Fegar would have been bright pink. But he simply sat back in his chair and shook his head.

  “Then it’s settled,” Mireena said and rose to her feet. “If I could have you all please accompany me, we will have you strapped into a seat and ready for takeoff.”

  I stood, but Odrik didn’t let go of my hand. He gripped it, in fact, as we made our way toward the bridge where we would all sit down and strap in. Next stop: the Atria.

  Chapter 16: ODRIK

  My journey aboard the small aircraft en route to the great Atria afforded me the opportunity to glean some new information about myself: I was afflicted with terrible motion sickness that left me vomiting bile into a paper bag for the duration of the trip. I did not like space travel, or even air travel, for that matter. My one consolation was that my Novalyn was by my side. And I was not standing shackled in front of a pyre.

  Once aboard the grand Federation vessel, I was tempted to follow Ro Petathera, to ask him all of the questions I had kept locked inside of myself about the relocation of our species to our current planet, about what had happened to our home, about what he had seen when I had fought Fegar. But I noticed that my lady continued to limp, so I — much to my chagrin — hooked my hand around little Tymer’s arm until he turned around to face me.

  “She was injured,” I said. “Certainly you must have some… advanced technology aboard this ship to help heal her.”

  He glanced from me to Novalyn and back again and gave a sharp nod of his head. “Follow me,” he said, and so we did.

  He led us to a small room where Novalyn sat on a table. The space was stark and white, and the table was silver. The entire room was bare, save for a small control panel by the door. “Odrik, please step out.”

  “No!” Novalyn protested. “He can stay.”

  Tymer bristled, his lips pursed. “Fine,” he said between clenched teeth. “But you will need to disrobe.”

  “It is nothing he has not already seen,” Novalyn said, a small smile playing on her lips as she tugged her gown off over her head.

  “Nor I,” Tymer mused, and I shot a glare at him. Novalyn laid her naked form down on the table, and Tymer hit a few buttons on the control panel that made the room go dark. Then, a projection of Novalyn’s anatomy appeared in the air over her body. It was her skin, then her muscles, then her bones, then her organs, with bright patches lighting up where it detected injury or anomaly: her ankle, her inner thigh, her belly.

  Tymer manipulated the machine at the console and it focused in on her ankle. He examined the readout on the screen. “Just a sprain,” he remarked. “I can fix that right up for you, if you like.”

  “Yes, please,” Novalyn said. “I’m sick of limping around on it.”

  Tymer hit a few keys and the ceiling opened up. A long white tube descended, peering around the room like a snake’s head until it coiled itself around Novalyn’s injured ankle. She gasped through her teeth as the white tube began to glow red, but she heaved a sigh of relief when it uncoiled itself and lifted up to linger above the anatomical projection.

  “Better?” Tymer asked, and she gave a few tentative flexes of her foot.

  “Completely,” she marveled, “thank you.”

  “How does it — ” But Tymer cut me off, as though I were not in the room at all.

  “And the lacerations on your thigh. Shall I close them up as well?”

  “Yes.”

  I recalled how I had tended to her, how my ministrations had been what had originally brought us together, and felt the tiniest pang of regret as she spread her legs and the device descended to lay lines of white foam on her cuts. When the tube sucked the foam up again, it was as though her thigh had never been bitten at all.

  “Spectacular,” she mused quietly. “And now all I need is a hot shower to feel totally normal.”

  She sat up, but Tymer advanced, his hand raised. “Just a moment,” he said quietly and glanced between the two of us. “The machine is reading a tertiary issue in your lower abdomen.”

  “What?” She blinked and lay back down, her hands resting on her stomach.

  “The diagnostic procedure is somewhat more… invasive for this one, I’m afraid,” Tymer said gently.

  “How do you mean, invasive?” I asked.

  “We’ll have to go in intravaginally, but it won’t hurt, and it should only take a moment.”

  “Are you a doctor?” Novalyn demanded; Tymer blushed.

  “No. But I can interpret the readouts on this machine. Anyone can, really. That’s the beauty of it.”

  “Fine,” Novalyn sighed.

  “Very good,” Tymer said. “Put your feet flat on the table so that your knees are bent, and spread your thighs apart — yes, just like that. Let your knees wing out to the side. And just relax.”

  I watched her as the flower of her sex bloomed, watched as she averted her gaze and the tubular device descended once more from the ceiling. I watched as it lubricated itself from a series of tiny holes around its perimeter and inserted itself into her.

  Another projection appeared above her, then, black and aqueous, with a small, brown center that pulsed and fluttered. I narrowed my eyes at it, even as the room was filled with sounds like being submerged under water. She turned her head to peer at it then as well. “Is that…?” She squinted, and I saw all the color drain from her face. “Is that a sonogram?”

  “It is,” Tymer confirmed.

  Novalyn looked at me, her eyes wide with shock. But I did not understand what it signified until Tymer Mafaren gave us the news: “You are pregnant.”

  Chapter 17: NOVALYN

  What!? Pregnant!

  You know, I had come to expect certain strange things, like a magic doctor machine with tubes that come out of the ceiling to probe you. These odd occurrences had become part of my everyday life ever since I’d been plucked out of my crappy little apartment and rocketed to the stars. Funny how the strangest things seem suddenly routine. Flesh-eating plants? Yeah, okay. Spaceships? Old hat. In-ear translation devices that allowed me to understand every language that has ever existed? Over it. But as soon as I was informed I was something as common as pregnant, my brain began to overload. I rejected it outright: “No, that’s impossible,” I said. “There must be something wrong with the machine.”

  “I assure you,” Tymer gently intoned, “there is no mistake.”

  I had been naked during the examination, but I didn’t actually feel exposed until I was sitting upright on the table, when I began to cry. Tymer, to his credit, fetched me a soft terrycloth robe which he wrapped about my shoulders, even as Odrik looked on, dumbfounded.

  “Listen to me, Novalyn,” Tymer murmured, rubbing my shoulders. “You shall not be forced to bring this pregnancy to term. You can take care of it, and the two of us can — ”

  “All right,” I interjected, shrugging him off, “I think before we schedule my appointment at Planned Parenthood, you should probably just take me somewhere to shower, sleep, and think for a hot second.” I turned my head just enough to eye him in my periphery, and he looked rather deflated. Good, I thought. I liked the idea that I’d taken a little air out of him.

  “As you wish,” he said. “I’ll fetch you some clothes and something to eat as well.”

  “And Odrik will stay with me,” I said, and I could sense that Odrik had perked up, though I wasn’t looking at him. “Find us somewhere with room for two.”

  Tymer gave a little half-bow and turned on his heel. “Follow me, please,” he said, and we did.

  ***

  Tymer gave us something rather more luxur
ious than the cell I’d awakened in when I had first arrived on the Atria: a suite with a sitting room that had an actual window with a stunning view of the stars and the planet below. The bedroom boasted a king-sized bed replete with a down comforter and plush feather pillows in pristine white with silver thread detailing. The room was carpeted, also in white, and the bedside tables and desk were a sort of white marble with chrome fixtures. There was a marble bath with a Jacuzzi tub and a steam shower with glass doors, and in the sitting room, there was a crystal chandelier over a sunken living space. I don’t think I’d ever stayed anywhere as beautiful as this room. Everything was controlled by a panel next to the door: lighting, temperature, music. Even the images in the picture frames above a faux fireplace would be changed with the press of a button. So I took the liberty of setting it to cool with dim lighting, no music, and images of a rainy afternoon on Earth on the walls.

  Tymer had the decency to leave us, indicating that we would gather for supper with his mother and the ambassadors in the early evening, but that we were otherwise left to our own devices.

  Once alone, I dropped languorously down onto a plush white divan and reveled in the feel of the velveteen. I had to admit, it was pleasant to be out of that harsh wilderness.

  “That man,” Odrik said, sitting tentatively on the edge of the sofa. “You know him.”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “He’s why I’m here at all.”

  “And how is that, exactly?”

  And I told him the story. I told him where I was from, and how I had been dating — and then I had to explain what “dating” was — and how I’d met Tymer and hadn’t known who or what he was.

  “And he would have you stay aboard this ship with him,” Odrik noted, and I could do nothing but bob my head in affirmation. “Is that what you want?”

  “No, certainly not.”

  “And does the fact that you are with child have any bearing on how you feel about staying with me?”

  “Of course it does,” I said, perhaps too quickly. “But I don’t know that it should.”

  He gave a simple nod of his head and rose to his feet, wandering over to the picture window where he could look out at his home planet below. I joined him, hugging the robe tight about my shoulders, and peered out with him. The planet was beautiful, lush and green and blue, like Earth, though with no continents that I could discern. It filled the lower half of our large picture window.

  “They spared your life today, Odrik,” I whispered, “but what happens tomorrow?”

  He scoffed and did not turn his head to look at me. “I can beat him in a fair fight.”

  “But what if you don’t?”

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence.” He turned his back to me and walked to the center of the room. He was oddly out of place, this gruff, hypermasculine tribesman with his raw leather breeches and bare chest. No part of him fit in this space. And maybe that’s why Tymer gave me this room, to show me where I belonged, and where Odrik did not.

  “You don’t get to be pissy with me right now,” I asserted.

  “What does ‘pissy’ mean?”

  “It means you’re… behaving badly. And you don’t get to, not right after I found out I was pregnant. Me, not you! Don’t you understand that I am freaking out?” And I hadn’t realized, really, that I was until I said so. I immediately deflated into tears, my cries coming out in wracking sobs as I wilted to the floor. Odrik was at my side in an instant, one arm wrapped around my shoulders and crushing me to him.

  It was panic, not despair, that wrought my tears: there was an immediate part of me that loved the idea of having a baby. And with a man like Odrik, so strong, calm, and capable. But then the other part of me didn’t know what kind of baby it was that was growing inside me, and I couldn’t help but picture something grotesquely alien that ripped through my stomach and ate my flesh for nutrients. Maybe it was absurd, but then, so was my entire situation. I was grasping at anything to cling to, anything my mind could latch onto as steady, stable truth. And all that I found was that I loved Odrik. I loved him, and I wanted to stay with him and have a family with him. But that was insane: no one wants to stay on a cruel alien planet and push out a brood of alien babies. No normal person wants that.

  “I’m here,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m here, my lady.” And I turned my face toward his to catch his mouth in a kiss. My lips were slicked with saltwater tears, and I could taste them on his tongue as he kissed me, his hands untying the belt of my robe and cupping my ample breasts. He gathered me into his lap and slid the robe from my arms until I was naked once more, and I kissed him with a desperate sort of urgency that startled me. With my hands flat against his chest, I pushed him back until he was lying prone on the thick white carpeting. I unlaced his breeches and freed his already turgid cock, bending over him to take as much of it into my mouth as I could. I lapped at the head of his manhood, a gesture that elicited grunts of gratitude from Odrik, but my ministrations were more perfunctory than anything else. After a few moments, I climbed on top of him, eager to feel him deep within me, hungry for the type of distraction his body could afford me. I directed him to the wet cleft between my thighs and lowered myself down, gasping as he filled me, the ease with which he slid inside of me bespeaking how urgently I needed him.

  I rocked my hips back and forth, his hands traveling up the slope of my thighs to rest on my hips. He moved me faster, and our breath quickened with the effort of it, but he was not satisfied. In one deft movement, he encircled my waist with his arm and pulled me around so that it was I who was lying on the carpeting. I brought my legs up to wrap around him as he thrust into me. I let out a cry; he grunted with his efforts.

  Odrik gripped one of my breasts in his hand and bent himself forward so that he could press a series of kisses to my neck. But the kisses turned to bites as he let his savagery out, and I dug my nails into his back and opened myself to him. I could feel my orgasm beginning to build, and I was surprised by how quickly I had started to climax. My orgasm broke like waves against the rocks, and I quivered in his arms even as the muscles inside of me clamped down around his cock. He shuddered soon thereafter and released into me, and I thought about the baby we’d made this way, and what it might be like someday to meet it.

  After a few moments, he rolled off of me and lay on his side next to me, trailing his fingers up my legs and over my pubic mound. I could feel his hot seed dripping down my thighs, and he wanted to feel it, too, so he slid his fingers into my dripping orifice. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his cheek pressed against my shoulder. “Stay with me.” He began to rub at my clitoris with his thumb, prolonging the pulse of my orgasm as he did so. I trembled; I smiled.

  The door whooshed open then without any hint of a warning, and I scrambled away from Odrik, tugging my abandoned robe around my body and standing up as quickly as I could move. Odrik didn’t seem to care and rose slowly to his feet, not bothering to conceal himself, or the size of his cock, from view. It was Tymer who had walked in, and he had a stack of folded clothing in his hands.

  “I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, averting his eyes. “I brought you both some clothes. But I can see you are not presently in need of any.” He looked up at me then, and his expression was one of pure disgust. “Forgive me,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I managed to eke out, and averted my gaze.

  “We will be dining on the sixteenth floor in an hour’s time, at which point we shall outline the rules and regulations for tomorrow’s battle.” He looked at Odrik then and smirked. “I believe this one will be a fight to the death.”

  “So much the better,” Odrik said, propping his hands up on his hips, his cock twitching as it began to harden. “I won’t have to worry about Fegar trying to usurp me again in the future.”

  “I wouldn’t be overconfident, Mr. Nuh’ar,” Tymer said, setting the clothes in a neat stack by the door. “I believe my mother will grant Fegar Gael the right to choose the w
eapons. Tell me, have you ever fired a gun?”

  Odrik blinked, and I wasn’t entirely sure that he even knew what a gun was. Tymer grinned. “No matter,” he continued, “I’m sure you’re a quick study.” He smiled at me then. “I’ll see you at supper, Ms. Bryce.” I nodded mutely. “Until then.” And he was gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

  I sighed and allowed the robe to puddle at my feet as soon as Tymer was gone. Rubbing at my eyes, I padded across the carpeting and into the bathroom, with Odrik close on my heels.

  “I’ve never fired a gun,” he remarked.

  “I’d wager that Fegar hasn’t either, then,” I said and turned on the faucet to the Jacuzzi tub.

  “I may die,” he remarked, stunned, as though this were the first time the possibility had really presented itself. For my part, I said nothing. “If I do not die, will you stay?”

  I looked up at him and was startled by how young he looked in that moment, how plain his desperation was. He wanted me, he must care for me a great deal, he —

  “I love you,” he said plainly. “Stay with me.”

  The air between us filled with steam until his edges blurred, and so did mine. Could I stay? Could I make a life with this strange creature? And if I left, what would I go back to? My heart rebelled against the constructs of my mind until all I could do was lean up on tiptoes and give him a kiss, a kiss that neither promised nor denied. And when we broke apart, the steam was so thick that I could not see the disappointment on his face.

  “Get in the water with me,” I murmured and climbed in, sighing as the tension went out of my muscles. He sloshed in with me, and his bulk made the Jacuzzi tub seem almost small. I realized then that there was no one I would rather be crammed up against, or thrown in jail with, or traipsing through an inhospitable wilderness alongside. Yes, yes, I would stay. If he lived, I would stay. So then why couldn’t I make him the promise?

  Part Six