Hero

by Reagan Woods

  Now that they were touching, and he could feel her warmth around him, he was so drunk on the intoxicating perfume of her skin that he could hardly think. Damn his luck, he knew it would be inappropriate to push further after what she’d been through today.

  Though his assignment in the camp was deleterious to his future hopes, he was fiercely relieved that he’d been around to prevent her from being molested further. If he hadn’t been here to help her, well, it didn’t bear thinking about. How could he insure her safety moving forward?

  “We should go file a complaint,” he told her, reluctant to end their private moment but knowing this was a necessary step. “I don’t want him thinking he can treat you like this and get away with it.”

  “I’m not sure how reporting Shirok’s creepy behavior to the other Doranos is going to do us any good,” Tara protested, tightening her limbs around him. He ached to pick her up and take her away from this place right now, but that wasn’t how a Warrior went about Claiming a female.

  “Most of the so-called administrative team are creepers in their own right,” she continued.

  She wasn’t wrong. Calyx had it on good authority there were complaints about the Doranos’ unsavory activities piling up at General Darvan’s feet. “Perhaps we shouldn’t complain to the administrative overseer,” he said slowly, inspired to take a different track. “Let’s lodge a complaint with my Commanding Officer. That will make this incident a Warrior matter instead of a civilian one. Warriors take the safety of females very seriously.”

  “If you think that will work, I’m all for it.” She nodded, a worried frown forming on her brow. “But what if he comes back?”

  With monumental effort, Calyx stepped back and helped her to her feet. “He won’t,” he said determinedly.

  Tara wobbled a bit as she stood. “But -,” she began.

  “I won’t let him hurt you, Tara,” Calyx vowed, circling her waist with his hands to steady her.

  If he had to stand guard over her every moment of the day, he would find a way to make it work. He had no business wanting Tara the way he did. There was no way he’d be able to apply for the Right to Seek Claim for her any time soon. If he were a better male, he’d stay far away so another Warrior, someone with a record of valor, could Claim her. He wasn’t that noble.

  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Shirok Tara was his. She had been since the moment he first saw her. Every move he made was calculated to bring Tara into his life permanently. No one, certainly not some sniveling Doranos lordling, was going to thwart his plan.

  Chapter Five

  “He just happened to be close enough to hear you scream for help?” Marta’s white-blonde brows shot up in disbelief as she carefully sat the pan she’d just scraped clean in the square of light shining down on the silver counter top.

  The rotating help was gone now that the dinner rush was over. Fewer bodies meant less heat, but it remained stifling inside the kitchen. Normally, Tara would have propped the emergency exit open to circulate cool air; however, after today’s drama, she wasn’t feeling safe enough for all that.

  “It sounds like you’ve got more than one stalker, Tara,” Marta continued in quiet, even tones. “You should take someone with you wherever you go. There’s safety in numbers,” she finished earnestly, tickling her finger over a hologram dial that controlled the beam of the sterilizing light. God love alien technology. It made cleanup quick and efficient and pretty well eliminated food-borne illness.

  It was just the permanent staff cleaning up for the evening – minus one. Their fourth, Nora, had taken off for greener pastures a few days ago. How she’d made her escape, they didn’t know – but the camp was bubbling with speculation.

  Marta was a surprisingly hard worker no matter how hot it got in the kitchen. She’d had a rough life like most people who’d survived The Last Great War and the alien invasion, but it hadn’t touched her inner core of goodness. At first, it was hard not to hate her. She was so beautiful and shapely that she made even the black durafiber kitchen uniforms look like high fashion. Underneath the cool Norwegian-goddess-like looks, she was a loyal friend. Tara, once she’d gotten to know Marta and her work ethic, went out of her way to include the other young woman in her roster of permanent help. Lately, Marta had been woebegone. Nora was her best friend and roommate – and hadn’t said so much as a sayonara to her.

  “She’s not wrong,” Franny, the official big-sister of the kitchen staff, put in with a smirk. “But I’m sure you’d be totally fine with it if Calyx wanted to stalk you.” The exaggerated waggle of her eyebrows had Marta snort-giggling.

  “Mmm hmm,” Tara hummed, pulling pots and pans from the now-dim sterilization field to store away until tomorrow morning. “As my Grandmama used to say, that boy is fine.” She drew the ‘I’ out obscenely. “Alas, I sent all the come-hither signals and…nothing. He gave me a hug and a pat on the head and took me to swear out a statement against Shirok.”

  “Yeah, none of these aliens – Doranos or Corian – are very good with women,” Franny commiserated, using a hand-held scanner to keep inventory as she crouched to pull dry goods from the storage cabinets beneath the island for tomorrow’s breakfast.

  “Argh!” Tara exclaimed in frustration. “What’s up with that?”

  “They sleep with you once and suddenly think they own you,” Franny shook her head sadly, eyes remaining on her task. They were a gossipy bunch, but no one could say they didn’t get stuff done.

  Marta and Tara locked gazes before stopping what they were doing and walking around the big central island to stare at Franny. “Spill,” Tara said, recovering first. “Who’d you bump?”

  “I’ve been in camp almost as long as you,” Franny pointed out with a shrug, pausing her task. “And I have a healthy sex drive, but I’ve only slept with a few people.”

  “Aliens?” Marta asked curiously, picking up a stack of baking sheets to shelve and going back to work. “You slept with one of – or more than one of – the aliens? How was that?”

  “Meh.” Franny made a so-so motion with one thin hand, her long black braid sliding over her shoulder as she double-checked something on her inventory. “Nothing to write home about. Follow that up with a big dash of possessiveness and I’d have to deem it a colossal disaster.”

  “Bummer.” Listening to Franny’s words, Tara felt disappointment bloom in her chest. She was tired, and she’d had a horrible day. Now, she realized she’d half-believed that Calyx didn’t make a move on her because of some obscure regulation regarding alien/human contact. If what Franny was saying was true – which she had no reason to doubt - Calyx either didn’t want her or wasn’t clear on what she wanted from him.

  “I miss bacon,” Franny sighed, completely oblivious to Tara’s mini melt-down. “Thin, crispy, over-cooked bacon.”

  “I miss breakfast sausage,” Marta pouted, climbing a small stool to hang pots from an old-fashioned rack on the other side of the room. “Tara does, too. She’s got that look in her eye. She’s gonna hunt down a big hunk of alien sausage.”

  Franny giggled at Marta’s crappy joke, but Tara wasn’t playing their game – she was already frustrated enough. She frowned, looking across the island-counter at Marta. “I miss hash browns. Let’s try to make some out of that new batch of potatoes they loaded in.”

  “We can try,” Franny agreed dubiously, reaching into the storage to pull a few boxes out and stack them on the counter. “But those aliens did something to the potatoes and the texture is just off.”

  “That’s why we’ve been adding them to the soups and stews,” Tara explained, miming throwing up. “Our lords and masters, the CORANOS Galactic Alliance, determined the nutrient profile of our foods needed a bit of tweaking; hence the nasty potatoes.”

  “If this batch makes decent hash, maybe it will have been worth missing all the other dirty puns Marta had stored away,” Franny deadpanned, shooting an air ‘knuckle-bump’ Marta’s way in solidarity.

  Mar
ta took a bow and climbed up a step-ladder to hang pots from an old-fashioned pot rack. “We need to find better words for alien cock,” she complained, back turned to the room.

  “She usually goes all tomato when we start talking about the D. How red do you think her face is right now?” Tara queried, determined to join in her friends’ antics.

  They both craned their necks to look at Marta who was blushing furiously.

  “Damn,” they said in unison, laughing at the fiery color.

  Marta studiously avoided making eye contact as she chuckled. “You’re not wrong. I’ve tried to train myself not to react, but you see how well that’s gone.” She jumped down and bent to stow her stool away. Dusting off her hands and straightening, she asked, “What’s next, boss lady?”

  Tara perused her hand-written checklist. “Franny is with me for breakfast. You’re both off for lunch and back for dinner tomorrow night, right?”

  They nodded, shoulders drooping wearily. It had been a long night for each of them. Plus, Tara suspected that they, like her, still had hours to clock in the library. “I’ll close up. Thanks for rolling with the punches tonight, ladies.”

  “Hang in there.” Tara was surprised when Marta moved in and gave her a tentative hug. “I know today was scary, but it’ll be okay.”

  Franny’s hand lightly touched her upper back. “If you need someone to talk to, come find one of us.”

  Unaccustomed to such emotional turmoil, Tara had to blink tears from her eyes for what felt like the millionth time today. “You guys are the best. Thanks for being my friends.”

  Chapter Six

  Calyx watched Tara through the circular window set in the kitchen’s double doors. She stood, head bent over old-fashioned pen and paper, at one of the silver counters that ringed the space. The pen and paper were taboo as the Earthers were supposed to be assimilating into the CGA. He should confiscate them, he knew, but that was asking the impossible.

  Appliances and dry goods were neatly shelved beneath the counters with pots and pans hanging from hooks along the ceiling above. A center island provided extra counter space and several hot plates. There was a bizarre mix of CORANOS and Earth technology in the kitchen. Most conquered peoples weren’t permitted to keep anything of their planet of origin around them. Instead, they were only permitted specific CGA tech. However, General Darvan had brought an un-heard of number of Doranos civilians on this campaign. Extra berths on the ships equaled less storage space for the necessities of sustaining conquered people.

  Calyx breathed easier now that he saw Tara remained unharmed. He was generally a calm male, but anxiety that the arrogant Doranos might return to harass her had plagued him all afternoon and evening. Of course, it was unlikely that anything had happened to her in the minutes since her helpers had passed his self-appointed post, whispering and giggling, but he had to be sure. It was a compulsion.

  Tonight, Calyx had volunteered for an extra shift. He’d walked the perimeter of the common building repeatedly. Each time, he’d checked that the emergency exit, the place where Tara had been attacked earlier in the day, was secure. She didn’t bow to the heat and prop the door open. That was one worry off his mind, but anger and fear collided in his chest when he surveyed the space and realized she was working late. Alone.

  “Calyx!” She jumped and turned to face him with a hand between her breasts when he slapped open the swinging doors. “You startled me.”

  He prowled into the room. Tara had turned down the bright overhead lights, leaving plenty of shadow for an attacker to hide in.

  “I’m here to walk you back to your dorm,” he announced, not bothering to hide the anger pulsing through him.

  Tara’s dark brown ringlets were piled in a shiny heap atop her head and her olive skin sported a sheen of moisture from the heat of the place. Despite the sweat that had her black uniform clinging to her curves, her tentative smile dazzled in the dim space. Not even the slight bruising that remained around her mouth could detract from her loveliness.

  “The innocent smile is not going to work, Tara.” Calyx stomped on the un-Warrior-like heart-flip said smile inspired. “You should have asked your friends to wait and walk back with you.” Now was not the time to pull her into his arms and take what she’d been so obviously offering earlier. He balled his hands into fists to prevent them reaching for her as he stomped closer to loom over her.

  Her smile wilted at his tone and he felt her disappointment like a kick in the gut. He immediately regretted the necessity, but her safety was too important to ignore.

  “It didn’t seem fair to keep them here,” she argued, hands going to her narrow waist as defiance sparkled in her eyes. “They’ve already put in a long day.”

  “You were attacked today.” The reminder was deliberately harsh as he leaned into her personal space. “Here. During daylight hours. That overrides a little fatigue.”

  There were obviously sinister elements roaming unchecked. He needed her to get in the habit of taking precautions. She was too sweet and trusting.

  Sighing, she swiped a hand over her glistening brow and seemed to deflate. “You’re right. It was stupid of me to send Marta and Franny away. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “Are you ready?” He asked tersely. Her capitulation mollified his need to know she understood what she should have done, but his fear for her safety was still very much alive. As much as she’d come to mean to him over the past year, she remained a conquered female – less than a slave in the eyes of the CGA.

  Papers rattled dryly as she shoved them into a drawer and squared her shoulders. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she answered, eyes scanning him carefully. “I’m mostly just avoiding checking in for my nightly session in the library.”

  He nodded, understanding that was what most of the Earth females called the bank of reconditioners in their dorms. “Let’s get moving, then,” his fingers curled gently around her upper arm as he drew her toward the doors.

  Tara shrugged her arm from his grip. “I’ve had enough manhandling for one day, thank you,” she snapped, eyes narrowed crankily.

  Ah. She’d apologized but didn’t appreciate being called on her mistake. Too bad.

  “Apologies.” Tamping down his urge to laugh wasn’t easy – she was cute when she got prickly, after all -, but he knew that wouldn’t help matters. He stepped to hold open the door and raised a mocking brow. “Shall we?”

  With a huff, she stomped past, nose in the air. They navigated the dim, beige hall in relative silence. The supply depot, located directly across from the entrance to the kitchens, wouldn’t open again until morning. Across the hall and down several yards, was the darkened entrance to the cafeteria. With the kitchens closed until breakfast, this part of the building was in power-saving mode. Path lights that barely cut through the gloom pointed the way to the infirmary and the main entrance of the building.

  As they stepped into the brighter portion of the corridor, they drew the attention of three Corians loitering at the patient intake area. The white armbands on their black uniforms denoted Warriors assigned to the medical staff. When they saw Calyx with Tara, they continued to talk amongst themselves and watch with open interest as the duo passed.

  From the corner of his eye, Calyx caught Tara’s nod of acknowledgement toward the medics. They straightened noticeably, flashing smug smiles. He wanted to pound them into dust or pull her along faster, but she didn’t smile back or speak. That lack of response helped dampen his anger. If she’d smiled back – as Earthers were wont to do - it would have indicated romantic interest on her part.

  If her distant behavior towards the medics was any indication, she was assimilating into the CORANOS culture. That was a relief because he didn’t think he could withstand much more emotional upheaval. He wasn’t quick to anger. Usually. Today, that inner calm he relied on was elusive.

  Calyx heard Tara draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. A hand on his arm brought him up short. “I’m sorry I was
a jerk to you back there,” she apologized softly. “I’ve had a bad day, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  Stiffly, he turned to look down at her. The urge to pull her into his arms and smooth the frown from her brow was so strong that he clenched his fists to prevent himself from acting on it. This need to touch her was the very reason he kept his distance as much as possible whenever he was in residence. It was too hard to be around her and not press her to wait for him to be granted the Right to Seek Claim for her. That wasn’t fair to her, he reminded himself for the millionth time. “I understand,” he replied.

  “I don’t think you do.” Her grip on his arm tightened when he tried to step away. Certainly, he could have escaped, but he was curious – and he savored the contact, innocent as it was.

  “Tell me,” he invited, placing his free hand over hers and giving an encouraging squeeze in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his fingers and he wondered if she felt that decadently soft everywhere…

  She glanced over her shoulder, nose wrinkling in discomfort, before turning back to him. “Can we go someplace private to talk?”

  “Aren’t we going to your dorm?” Even that seemed too private given the direction of his wayward thoughts.

  “Someplace where we won’t be overheard would be nice.” She rolled her eyes and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “The Three Musketeers back there are known gossips and the dorms will be teeming with people at this hour.”

  “I know a place.” He nodded, reluctantly releasing her and gesturing for her to follow.

  Beneath his uniform, he began to sweat like a prisoner trudging toward execution. His control was already questionable. Being alone with Tara was his greatest desire and his biggest fear. So long as they weren’t in too private a setting, he should be able to keep his hands to himself. Maybe.