by Viki Storm
The warriors have planned a trap for the Guuklar. They will meet the bastards in the sky in the Ejara System, far, far away from Lekyo Prime. The weaponry that my father was able to squirrel away is staggering. More than enough ships and firepower to stop the Guuklar before they get anywhere near Lekyo Prime.
Everyone is preparing to leave. But I haven’t asked Orlon the question I’ve been waiting to ask. I know he’s going to say no, but I need to convince him, need to beg and plead until he says yes.
“Orlon,” I say when he enters the small room we share in the base camp. He’s been busy with preparations, both strategic and technological. He’s been distracted, tired from the long hours, and generally ill-tempered from the impending battle. Not the best frame of mind to grant the request I have.
“Hmm?” he responds. He’s shedding his boots and breeches and the heavy coat he wears to protect against the cold. But I know he’s headed straight into the shower closet, as that’s been his routine.
“Hold on,” I say, “I need to ask you something.”
“If you’re going to ask me for some of this,” he says, pointing towards his cock, “then the answer is ‘yes,’ but you’ll need to wait a few minutes while I clean the sweat from my body. This damned planet. It’s freezing cold, but I sweat my balls off inside that coat, and that only makes me colder.”
“It’s not that,” I say. He must detect the seriousness in my voice because he stops undressing and pulls his breeches back up for the time being. “I need to ask you something you’re not going to like.”
“I already don’t like this,” he says, “so out with it.”
“I want to fly one of the ships. I need to. I’m going to.”
He doesn’t seem to register what I’ve said for a long moment.
“I thought we agreed that you’d stay here with the flight control team until the Guuklar are dealt with.”
“You agreed to that,” I say. “But I want to fight.”
“Fight?” he says, almost shouting. “Fight? I thought you meant that you want to fly back to Irrok or somewhere. You want to fly into battle? Are you mad?”
“No,” I say. “I’ve thought it over. It’s something I need to do.” And this is the truth.
“Weeping Void,” he says. “You can fly a ship, I’ll give you that. But battle is a completely different thing—I guarantee you. You’re no warrior.”
“Maybe not, but I need to do this,” I say. “So many things in my life have been done to me. My mother being taken away, my father joining the Rebels and leaving me on my own, the Rulmek capturing me. Even you rescuing me from the factory. I feel like I haven’t had a say in anything in my entire life. I’ve sat around helpless while events acted on me. I’m sick of that. I want to be the one to act. I want to avenge my mother. I want to avenge my father. I want to avenge myself. I want…” I come dangerously close to divulging my secret reason for wanting to fight. What I said is true, but I also want to atone for what I did, for starting this damned war. But I can’t tell him that.
“Bah,” he says and sweeps his arm across the nearest table, knocking his comm-panel and other assorted items to the floor. “Who told you? What bastard out there told you? I’m going to wring his neck.”
“Told me what?” I ask. “No one told me anything, at least, I don’t think so.”
“A Zalaryn is bound by honor to allow another to avenge a fallen family member. If you truly want to avenge your parents’ death, then I must let you.”
“I… I had no idea.” But I will admit that I’m delighted by this prospect. I knew Orlon would say no and feared that he would either convince me to relent—or else prevent me by force from taking up arms.
“But I plead, I beg, I beseech the heavens and Void itself. Do not do this,” he says. He sits on the bed and reaches for my arm. I let him take it, let him pull me down next to him. I’m afraid that if he takes me in his arms, if I feel the warmth of his embrace, then I will relent and give up my crazy desire to fly into battle. “How can you ask this of me, when you know what it would do to me? How can you ask me to put the most precious thing in my life at such grave risk? It would kill me if something happened to you. If I let it happen to you by allowing you into battle.”
“I know how to fly,” I counter. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Like I said, flying and fighting are not the same thing. If you go up in the air, I will be useless in battle myself, so distraught and consumed by worry I’ll be. I won’t sleep a wink in the days leading up to the attack. I won’t be able to eat. And when the time comes to fight, my mind will be elsewhere—on your safety.”
“I know,” I admit. “I’m sorry to put you in this position, but I have to do this. It will help me close the door on my past so that I can enjoy a future with you.”
“If we’ll even have a future after all this,” he says.
“We will,” I say. “You said yourself that the Universe brought us together. It would not go through such lengths only to tear us apart.”
“Don’t use the Universe as an excuse. The Universe does not protect fools from their foolishness.” He lets out a long sigh. “This is like riding the jec’h, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I say. “And no. It’s much more important to me. Riding the jec’h, that was a bit of fun, nostalgia we call it—remembering a simpler, happier time. But this? For me, it’s a duty.”
He doesn’t speak for a long time.
“I will let you do this crazy thing,” he finally says. “And not only because I am honor-bound to allow your revenge. I will do this because you will resent me if I do not. Your heart will bear me a grudge. We already face an obstacle to our bond; I will not let this be another one.”
“An obstacle to our bond?” I say. This is a surprise.
“Yes,” he says. “Isn’t it obvious? Your human DNA is preventing complete and total bonding. If you truly felt the bond as I do, you would not want to do this. Survival and starting a life with me would be your top priority, and doing anything that would compromise that would be unthinkable—as it’s unthinkable to me.”
I have nothing to say to that. Maybe he’s been right all along. Maybe humans aren’t capable of this bonding business. I don’t know what I feel for him. If he was human, I’d have no trouble saying, ‘I love you.’ Because I do love him. But he’s complicating things for me by constantly talking about the bond. The only other species I ever heard about bonding is an extinct form of snow-bird where the males and females pair-bond for life, throughout several different mating seasons. But that sort of bonding is mindless, instinctual, born out of having a tiny bird-brain and not knowing any better.
“I will return to you,” I say. But I don’t promise. We both know that it’s impossible to promise something like that, so I don’t insult him by doing so.
“I hope so,” he says. He takes one of my hands in both of his. “If I lose you, I lose everything.” He leans in and kisses me, but it’s tender, almost chaste. There is none of the pent-up, wolfish hunger like the other times he’s kissed me.
And I start to feel something.
But it’s not between my legs where I’ve come to expect the sensations that come from Orlon’s touch.
It’s in my chest. My heart.
“I will claim you now,” I say. My voice is even, remarkably calm-sounding to my own ears. Because part of me is numb, closing off, preparing for her possible death in combat.
“Is this your price?” she asks earnestly. “Like when you made me ‘pay’ in order to fly your ship?”
“No,” I say. I’d be insulted at the insinuation if not for the growing numbness. “This act is sacred. It is no business transaction. Didn’t I explain to you on Irroq?” Further proof that she doesn’t understand the bond. That she never will.
But I do. And I will take her, claim her, know the sweet grip of her sex and the full merging of our bodies and souls.
“I’m sorry,” she says. And there is real contrition
in her voice that makes me think that maybe she does get it. Maybe on a molecular level she’s starting to get it. The foolish, hopeful part of me thinks that it’s my fault for not claiming her sooner. Females instinctively bond after intercourse. Maybe this is what’s been preventing her from fully feeling the bond.
Maybe I had it backwards—I was waiting for her to feel the bond before we mated, but maybe the mating causes the bond.
Ah, but that’s a fool’s hope. If she hasn’t felt it by now…
She is only wearing a traditional Zalaryn female robe, and I easily slip it off of her body. She lies down, nude and ready for me.
I get on the bed, intending to claim her as soon as possible, but her scent overpowers me. I must taste her, must inhale her essence. I part her legs and put my mouth over her splayed sex, licking and sucking every drop that I can. She squeals and starts to moan. It’s very encouraging, her sounds of pleasure pure music in my ears. But I force myself to pull away. She squeals again when I do, but it’s a sound of indignation, of desire—and it too is musical.
“You’re only allowed to come when my cock’s inside you,” I tell her. I move up the bed and lie next to her. I kiss her, letting her taste her own essence on my lips. She moans into my mouth and puts her arms around me. The delicate touch of her fingers as she caresses my shoulders sends a shiver throughout my body. I reach down and find a nipple; it’s hard, and I roll it gently between my fingers. She gasps, almost stealing the breath out of my lungs. I break our kiss and put her other breast in my mouth. She arches her back and pants her pleasure, pushing her hips against me.
“I’m ready,” she gasps.
“I know you’re ready,” I say. “But I don’t think you want it badly enough. You won’t get it until you’ve become insensate with lust.”
“I think I’m already halfway there,” she says.
“Maybe,” I say. I put my hand between her legs and strum her clit as lightly as I can manage. She tries to push against my hand, but when she does, I stop touching. “Hold still,” I instruct. “Don’t be greedy.” I put her nipple back into my mouth and play with the other one with my other hand.
“Okay,” she whines, and I can tell that she’s a little more than halfway there. I need to be careful stroking her, otherwise she’ll come. She holds still for me while I lightly trace the swollen ridge of her clit, the slick folds and soft lips. Her clit is pounding, swollen with desire and eager for release. My own member is pounding and swollen with desire, too. I press my erection against the side of her hip and she purrs appreciatively.
“Grip my cock,” I tell her. Her tentative shyness is gone, and she takes it in her hand, slowly stroking my length. I roll so that I am on top of her now, between her widely spread legs. “Now show me where you want me to put it. Guide it inside.”
She wastes no time pulling my cock towards her entrance, rubbing it at her wet, swollen sex. It’s divine, how soft and warm she feels.
“Tell me,” I say.
“I want it right here,” she whispers. “I want you to put it inside me.”
“Did you like it when I fucked your mouth on the spaceship?” I ask her. I put the tip inside her, her puffy, slick lips already gripping me, as if inviting me inside. I know she is untouched, and I will try to be gentle with her—but it will be difficult to restrain myself.
“I did,” she breathes. “I was disappointed that you did not take me then.”
“Did you think about taking my cock inside your little virgin pussy?” I ask. “While you sucked me and swallowed my seed, were you thinking about how it would feel to let me fuck you?”
“Yes,” she says, rocking her hips so that her cunt rubs against the tip of my cock. This is going to drive me over the edge, so I put one of my hands on her waist and hold her still.
“Remember to hold still,” I say. “At least until I get it inside. After that, I invite you to go wild.”
“Hurry,” she says.
“I don’t want it to hurt you,” I explain. I push my cock into her slowly, feeling some resistance. It takes all of my willpower not to shove it in savagely and start pounding her as hard as I can. She sucks in air, and I can’t tell if that was a wince of pain or a hiss of pleasure.
“Is it going to fit?” she asks.
“My cock belongs inside you,” I tell her.
“Then push it in,” she tells me. “I want to be filled up like how you filled up my mouth.”
I can’t say no to that. I thrust hard and instantly am enveloped by her tight inner sanctum. She screams out, but that was no scream of pain. She starts rocking her hips again, pushing against me as I thrust, instinctively finding a rhythm that will enhance her own pleasure.
She is so wet, so tight, her cunt seeming to pull on my cock every time I withdraw, squeezing it as if trying to wring out every drop of my seed… which I am going to give to her all too soon.
Time stops. Time speeds up. There is no time. I have always been inside her, thrusting, listening to her frantic screams of pleasure.
“Do you want to come now?” I ask her. She’s so beautiful right now, her cheeks red, her hair tangled up against the pillows. She opens her eyes and looks at me. They’re glazed over with lust, as I’m sure my own are, and I can’t help but kiss her again before she can answer. I push into her, our bodies finally joined in carnal union. I think I was wrong about humans’ capacity to bond. Because the feeling between us now is so much more than what the humans refer to as mere love. It is a connection that unites us body and spirit, that renders me absolutely and irrevocably in her service. She is mine, but I am hers. I will devote the rest of my being to ensuring her survival, her happiness—and the survival and happiness of our many offspring.
These thoughts are a racing undercurrent, passing through my brain in a jumbled rush. Then she breaks our kiss and screams out, “Yes, please, I want to come.” I reach between her legs and rub her clit while I slide into her. She starts to breathe more rhythmically, her cries of pleasure getting louder until she tenses for a brief moment, then releases, writhing beneath me and screaming as her orgasm seizes her body.
This is it for me, her pleasure, the sated, lustful look in her face as I watch her come—it’s bringing my own orgasm quickly. My momentum quickens, as if I’m racing towards some invisible finish line. I grip her arms and push into her as deep as I can, depositing thick spurts of my seed deep inside her.
I relax, but not wanting to collapse and crush her, I roll over, tucking her into the crook of my arm. I have never known this level of contentment, this depth of satisfaction.
I understand what Vano and Bantokk must feel with their mates. This sense of utter perfection, complete unification. That human females are indeed capable of fostering and reciprocating the bond.
“I can’t believe that,” she finally says.
“Good?” I ask.
“That doesn’t begin to describe it.”
“I know,” I say. I have been with many females, but never has the act been so intensely pleasurable or left me with such a rich feeling of satisfaction. “We are together now; I pledge my life to you. Every moment of my toil will be to provide you with adequate lodging and sustenance; the fruits of my labor will provide for our offspring. I will train my body and keep my mind sharp so that I will be a competent warrior and be able to protect you.”
“These are the least romantic vows I’ve ever heard in my life,” she says. I know it’s the human obsession with emotions and metaphor, so I ignore her little joke.
“It is the truth,” I say. “I care not for using fancy euphemisms that do not get to the heart of the matter.”
“Then I shall speak plainly as well,” she says. “I will toil to provide you comfort, care and affection. I will appreciate the material possessions you bestow upon me, and I will be a shrewd and frugal steward of our household resources. I will bear children and raise them well, nurturing their minds and hearts as best I can.”
I’m crushed by the weig
ht of her sentiment. It is everything I’ve wanted in a mate, the crowning achievement for a male to find a dutiful and loyal companion.
“So it shall be,” I say. “Zalaryns need no officiating ceremony or legal documents. When it is done, it is done.”
“It is done,” she agrees.
I slip into an easy sleep, my body and mind in need of rest. But I do not get it.
I dream of the Guuklar, their green plated armor and sinister slitted eyes. I dream of Lekyo Prime, of smoldering ashes and pleas for mercy.
And I dream of Suse, of spacecraft and of explosions in the sky.
The time has come. I watch as Suse climbs into the small fighter ship, fighting back the raging animal inside me that wants to grab her and lock her up somewhere safe until all this is over. I know this is important to her, I know I am honor-bound to let her avenge her family, but I cannot force myself to feel any different.
Bonding to a human must be changing the way I think. I am becoming emotional. I’ve been acting emotional and irrational since the moment I saw her in the factory, bound and tortured.
We lock eyes, unable to say everything, and she raises her hand briefly before lowering it to close the hatch of her ship.
It is done. Her safety is out of my hands now. And I can’t stand it. Her safety is my only job. I am a negligent mate—as foolish as her.
She starts the engine and lifts off into the air, and in a moment, she’s just a twinkle in the sky as she leaves the atmosphere.
I think I’ll feel better when she’s out of sight, but I do not. There’s nothing to do but get back to work. Work is the most effective weapon against obsessive thoughts.
I run around, preparing my own ship, checking the nav and weapons systems in the flight control center, distributing the weapons and gear to the other warriors.
Sooner than I’d have believed, it’s time to go. We’re going to intercept the Guuklar in the Ejara System, which should be less than a day’s travel from here.
