by Lee Savino
Turning to face him, I twine my arms around his neck and meet his mouth aggressively. For some time, I teach him the different ways to kiss—the fervent pull of lips and sly trespassing tongue, little nibbles on the edge of his lips and finally, the slow sucks that sends waves of heat through my body.
I end up facing the mirror, my hooded gaze taking in the sight of my brown limbs sprawled against his thickly muscled body. His large hand covers my breast, swallowing it up entirely. My black hair flows over his glittering skin in shocking contrast. Onyx and copper and gold. We look good together.
I think. I can't help but wonder if he thinks so too.
I'd wanted him to open up to me, but now I can't help but think of that memory box as being Pandora's Box. There's hope, yes, but it's also opened up a lot of other emotions. Not just emotions. Insecurities. I pull my lips away from his.
"Master..." My voice trails off, because I'm not sure how to handle this. He's not a client. It would be so much easier to ask if he was, but my emotions are involved too. Which, that's a revelation I'm also going to have to absorb, because I'm starting to believe all of this is real and not just a coma dream and the ramifications of that are something I'm not quite willing to face yet.
“Bogdan. When we are alone, you will call me Bogdan,” he orders, and I pull away in surprise.
“Really?”
He stops trying to kiss me and frowns. “You do not wish to?”
“No, I’m… I’d love to call you by your first name. I’m just wondering—”
An alarm sounds in the room and I shriek, practically trying to climb Bogdan's muscled torso. His arms tighten around me, both reassuring me and holding me in place. The lights dim in the room for a moment, and through the door I can see his console flashing a red light.
“What is that?” I squawk, a little embarrassed by my reaction, but still freaked out. In my defense, nothing like that has happened since I've come onboard the ship. I didn't even know it was a possibility.
“It’s all right,” he soothes, running a hand down my naked back. “It’s just an emergency summons to the bridge. Be quiet for a moment."
I almost bristle and demand to know more, but from the way he cocks his head I realize that he's hearing something I can't. Someone on the bridge, I'm assuming. Just an emergency summons to the bridge. I almost want to kick him. What kind of emergency? Are we under attack? Has there been a hull breach?
Because if this is all real, like I'm starting to believe it is, and the aliens saved me from death and I'm about to lose out on a fantastic life with a sexy alien who wants to dominate and spank me, I'm going to be really ticked.
His armor rolls over him, hiding the glittering skin under the dark panels and he steps away from me. Yeah, that's not reassuring. I almost whimper at the loss of his warm body against mine. I felt safe in his arms, dammit. Logically, I know I'm no less safe now that he's not holding me, but that doesn't change how I feel.
“I must go," he says, his voice deep and full of an emotion so deep it feels wrong to just call it 'anger.' That is what centuries of grieving, of loss without justice, of a burning need for vengeance sounds like. There is nothing in my education, nothing in my experience, to help prepare me for dealing with someone in that position. "There are Vgotha sighted within range of our ships, which means we are within their range as well. You must stay here.”
“But—” I stop, because I can't think of a good reason to argue. He can't stay here with me, when he could be somewhere else doing something useful, and I definitely wouldn't be useful. I'd be nothing but a distraction. The truth chafes, but I'm honest enough to know it's true.
“Stay here,” he repeats, striding to the door.
I hurry after him. “But what if you are gone for a while? Where is Dawn, can I go be with her?”
“Dawn will most likely be confined to quarters for her safety. You will remain here until I return or suffer the consequences.”
I halt, even as a quiver runs through me at the thought of consequences.
Bogdan sees the shiver and stops as the door slides open. To my surprise, his expression softens, and he cups my chin. The almost gentle expression on his face is at odds with the foreboding black of his armor. “Please, my Pareena. Remain here where you are safe.”
His plea twists my heart. Talk about unfair. But I summon my courage. I can do this. I can sit and wait for him until he returns to me.
“Of course, Master. Bogdan.” I lean into his palm as he caresses my cheek.
Then he is gone, and the door is sliding shut, leaving me alone.
Bogdan
The halls are busier than normal with warriors scurrying to their posts, heeding the warning of the flashing lights. There is an almost constant update of information in my earpiece, but I won't be able to sort out what is important until I arrive on the bridge.
I enter the bridge with officers Kalexston and Zakhar. They salute the High Commander standing at the helm and take their places at their respective consoles. I march to Gavrill’s side and salute.
“Bogdan." He acknowledges me with a nod. The tension threaded through his posture is reflected in his armor. "Apologies for interrupting your leave.”
“No need," I respond. I will always do my duty. "Is this the same ship we picked up on scans earlier?"
The ship's signature flickers on the screen for a moment, making everyone on the bridge tense. We have followed a ship like that before, through a nebula, eventually abandoning it to retrieve Tribute Dawn. The next time we saw the Vgotha, they were boarding our ship and we still do not know how they camouflaged their ship signature.
The urge to run back to my rooms and check that my Tribute is still there and safe rises up, surprising me with its strength.
The signature on the scan solidifies rather than disappears and there is an audible sigh of relief throughout the room. These new tricks of the Vgotha are troublesome. Not just in what they can do, but how they are affecting the warriors' morale. Having Tribute Dawn snatched off of our ship, even without loss of life on our side, did not bolster anyone's confidence.
Late at night the warriors still discuss where the Vgotha ship's seemingly new technology has come from. Did they always have it? Did they purchase it from somewhere? What can it do?
The one chance we had to take apart one of their pods was lost when we attempted to follow it back to its ship instead. Like the ships themselves, it disappeared from our screens.
Which means it's very likely that we are walking into another trap.
But the Vgotha must expect us to suspect... so what is their current plan? The ramifications of all the variables are why I am glad I am not the High Commander. There was a time when I thought I could see things more clearly but looking back I know I would have acted too quickly and too rashly.
Now, with more to lose, I am more cautious.
"We are not sure," the High Commander starts to say, before he is cut off by Kalexston's excited voice.
"High Commander! We believe the Vgotha's current trajectory is going to take them to a planet!"
Everyone on the bridge goes still.
Never before have the Vgotha gone to a planet before.
Again, questions arise. Is this their home planet? A base? Or another trap? Perhaps, as the Vgotha leader claimed to Tribute Dawn when he captured her, they are hoping for a meeting on the planet's surface?
So many unknowns and all our warriors and two Tribute's lives riding on the answer. I scowl at the screens and then look at the High Commander. His jaw clenches and I do not need to ask to know he is thinking of his Tribute, back in his room.
"It might be a trap," he says in a low voice echoing my own concerns.
"That is the most likely scenario," I agree, my voice also low. The bridge is still alive with noise, the warriors scanning for other ships all around us, still following the original ship we sighted, and plotting course alternatives. Before my Tribute I would not have cared, I would have demanded
we rush to it and destroy the ship.
Now I worry about the consequences of such a rash act.
"Dawn wants me to try to meet with them. To see what they have to say." The High Commander's voice betrays nothing of his emotions, but I know he would not speak of such a thing unless he were willing to consider it.
I want to scream my rage that he would even think of it, and yet there is now a part of me that understands. We have new hope. We have our Tributes. Do we want to risk them on continuing a war that the Vgotha seem to have tired of? They have been running for so long. Yet can that truly be enough punishment for their crime?
I do not know.
But I do know that I do not want any harm to befall my Tribute.
Yet, I cannot bring myself to speak, to condone such an outrageous suggestion. It betrays everything I believe in.
The High Commander looks away and shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is raised so that everyone on the bridge can hear.
"We will follow them," he announces. "Track their course. Keep alert. All warriors on duty should remain battle ready. Be wary of surprises, scan all surrounding space as we pursue them."
The bridge swarms with activity.
More quietly, so only I can hear, the High Commander finishes his thought. "I will decide what to do when we know if we can even catch them."
14
Pareena
I don’t know how much time passes after Bogdan leaves before I become bored. I nap for a bit, and then pop up and tidy the room. After some hesitation, I pack away the box of memorabilia back into the closet, because looking at it brings up too many uncomfortable questions, for both myself and him. The next time I get a chance to ask him directly to share his past, I’ll do that. It’s messy to play therapist to a sexual partner, but I can’t help my training. And Bogdan is obviously still hurting.
Which makes me wonder—what sort of grieving process do the Tsenturions have?
The door chimes, interrupting my musing. A portion of it shimmers to show the visitor right outside.
“Dawn?” I jump up and go to the door, trying to remember how to get it open. The Vgotha threat can’t be that bad if she’s out roaming. Either that or she disobeyed her Master. I don’t want her to get in trouble, but I really, really want to talk to someone who isn’t a reticent alien warrior.
“Pareena?” comes Dawn’s muffled voice. “Are you in there?”
“Yes! I don’t know how to get the door open.” I search the side for a panel.
“Override,” Dawn tells the door and there’s a beeping sound. "Tribute Dawn." The door rolls back smoothly, making me frown. I wonder if I could even get out of the room if I wanted to. She grins widely at me, looking triumphant. “I knew asking Gavrill for an override code would be good for something. Although, technically it's supposed to be for my safety.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I launch myself at her. Normally I’m not a hugger but the sight of another Earth girl is such a relief. I’m so glad my subconscious conjured up a human companion, even if she isn’t a Potterhead.
“I thought you might want company.” She squeezes me back.
“Are you allowed to be here?" I have to ask, wondering why I was ordered to stay in my room while she's out wandering the halls. With an override, no less. "You won’t get in trouble?”
She shrugs. “Gavrill was already on the bridge when the alert issued. He’s ordered me to stay in my rooms during an alert in the past, but he won’t mind me coming to visit you. As long as I stay out of any potential danger areas, it’s fine.”
I invite her to sit on the couch-like piece of furniture on one side of the room. It’s built for Bogdan’s proportions, so we look a little like kids sitting in our parent’s fancy parlor, but at least there’s a place to sit other than the bed. “So there's a Vgotha ship?”
“Probably." She doesn't sound as concerned as I would have expected. "For now. They tend to blip in and out of the scans. This isn't the first time one has been spotted and then disappeared, but Gavrill is doing a double shift and I wouldn’t be surprised if he keeps everyone on the bridge that long.”
Guess I won't be talking to Bogdan any time soon. Although maybe it's better if he doesn't come back and catch Dawn here. And it will give me some time to figure out how I feel about everything he shared with me and the fact that it finally led to sex.
A little lost in thought, I suddenly realize that Dawn is studying me closely, her eyes squinting in puzzlement.
“What is it? Do I have something in my teeth?” I place a hand over my mouth. I hadn't seen anything when I was in the bathroom, but I'd been a little distracted… Oh. I realize what she's looking at.
“Um, no, not your teeth...” Her eyes widen as she realizes what marks she’s seeing. “Ohmigosh, Pareena. Are those seela marks?” She looks like she is trying not to laugh. I appreciate the effort, but I end up giggling anyway, blushing madly as I do, and then she's giggling and we both end up laughing.
"Is that what those tentacle sucker things are called?" I ask, trying to sound innocent. I feel almost like a teenager again, gossiping with a girlfriend about sex for the first time.
“Yes." We erupt into another spate of giggling and Dawn shakes her head at me, her eyes sparkling. "You wicked thing, you.” She sits back with a knowing grin. "I hadn't even thought about that side effect... what was it like?”
“You mean you never…” I wave at my face, still blushing, but my embarrassment is fading. While Dawn is clearly curious, she's not at all judgmental.
“Only a little bit.” She shrugs. “He’s never let me do more than lick or suck it for a few minutes before he pulls me off. I don’t really argue, especially since it feels so good um... elsewhere.” Now it's her turn to blush, but I know exactly what she means.
“The... ah... tentacles were very nice,” I comment primly. Dawn and I exchange looks and burst into giggles like schoolgirls.
“Look at us, using euphemisms like old Victorian women,” she chortles.
“Tentacles are just a lot to get used to.” I mime wriggling them at her with my fingers, but of course, fingers can't do them justice.
“They’re called seela,” Dawn reminds me. “And then there’s the big one, the prime seela—”
“Oh, yes,” I nod enthusiastically. “Um, that’s my favorite.”
“Mine too,” she says, grinning widely at me. Her eyes get a little bit of a hazy look, like she's not really looking at me anymore. “And if he takes you from behind—”
“Oh, that’s genius.” My mind reels with possibilities. Bogdan taking me doggy style on the bed, the little suckers tugging on my labia and freshly spanked bottom, the prime seela teasing my asshole…
“Mmmhmmm.” Dawn nods knowingly, making me blush further. There’s a long pause while we’re lost in our own daydreams. She reaches over and pats my hand, breaking the moment. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s nice to talk about this stuff with someone.”
Which reminds me of the burning question of the day: what can I do to help Bogdan?
“Dawn…” I hesitate, not wanting to bring the mood down so quickly, but she's my best source of information. Who knows how long we have before Bogdan comes back. Plus, if she gets into trouble for coming to my room, I might not get this chance again for a while. "Can I ask you something?"
She looks amused. “Sure, ask me anything. Since we started the conversation with the beneficial uses of tentacles during sex, I feel like there's not much that can top that.”
“The ice is definitely broken,” I agree, smiling a little at her levity. “But this is more serious. Has Gavrill ever…” Wait, that might be too personal. I change tack slightly. “Do you think the Tsenturions grieve?”
“What do you mean?” Her eyebrows flash surprise, but she settles back onto the couch as if preparing for a long session, her head already tilted in thought.
“It’s just... with the loss of their home planet... there was a lot of personal l
oss, too. I’m wondering how the warriors handled it. I’m particularly worried about Bogdan.”
“Because he's so broody?”
“Yes.” I wince internally at talking about his private life without him, but I need perspective. “I think he has a hefty dose of survivor's guilt and possibly other trauma layered on top of that. I'm not sure though, since they're not human, but they do seem to feel things in a similar manner to us. You know them better, though, and I've only really spent time with Bogdan and a little bit with Arkdhem now. What do you think?”
“That makes sense to me.” She nods, warming to the subject as she continues. “When you think about it, these guys had their entire species blown up thousands of years ago, but then they were off chasing the enemy and functioning in war mode. I don’t think they’ve ever stopped to grieve. Aren’t there five stages or something?”
“You're talking about the five stages of grief postulated by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross,” I say, automatically shifting to a more lecturing mode. I'm too well acquainted with it on a personal level to be able to talk about it without either going into professional mode or breaking down as I think about how it personally affected me. “The theory is people move through different stages of grief. Denial, anger, bartering, depression, and acceptance. People can move back and forth through the stages, or even repeat them."
“Right. I saw the Simpsons episode," she jokes, and I laugh.
“Americans tend to think of it as fact, but there’s a lack of peer reviewed research to support it and there are other models. Some research has been done that shows humans have natural psychological resilience.” I shrug, pretending a nonchalance I don’t entirely feel. "On the other hand, I went through most of the stages while I was dying." Dawn's expression turns both sympathetic and concerned, and I continue before she can ask any questions, because I don't really want to talk about that. Especially since I'm becoming more and more convinced that I'm not dreaming. “But that’s humans. There's no way of knowing if an alien culture would process loss and bereavement in the same way.”
