Page 3 of Aliens Love Curves

A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. "Casey Onyx Peace. Cop. Fitting for ahumanenforcer-in-training, don't you think?"

Snickers ripple through the room. I feel my face flame even hotter, a mixture of embarrassment and anger coursing through me. This is not how I imagined my first day going.

"Now then," the instructor continues, his voice commanding attention, "for those of you who were hereon time," his silver eyes fleet in my direction and my gut tightens. "I'm Trainer Stryker. For the next six months, I'll be moulding you into the elite peacekeepers Ova needs. It won't be easy. Many of you won't make it." He looks directly at me this time and my hands clench into fists, turning my knuckles white. "But those who do will have the honour of joining the ranks of the Equanox Enforcers."

As Stryker launches into his welcome speech, I find my attention divided. Part of me is taking in the information – the rigorous training schedule, the expectations, the challenges ahead. But another part, a part I'm not entirely comfortable with, is noticing the way Stryker moves as he paces in front of the class. The fluid grace of his tail, the flex of his muscles beneath his uniform, the commanding presence he exudes.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. What am I doing? This man—this trainer—has already singled me out, embarrassed me in front of everyone. I wasmadeto come here—I had no choice. He's the enemy, the embodiment of everything I don't want for my life.

So why can't I stop stealing glances at him?

As the introductory lecture continues, I try to focus on the material. But every so often, I catch Stryker's gaze flickering towards me. Each time, there's that same unreadable expression – part curiosity, part... something else.

By the time class ends, my head is spinning with information and conflicting emotions. As the other cadets file out, chatting excitedly about the training to come, I remain in my seat. I don’t want to be here. I feel alienated—heck, I am an alien. Stryker approaches, his expression stern.

"Alright, Cop," he says, and I wince at the nickname. "Training equipment is in the storage room. I want every piece cleaned and put back in its proper place. Think you can handle that?"

I stand, drawing myself up to my full height – which, admittedly, isn't much compared to him. "Yes,sir," I reply, injecting as much sarcasm into the word as I dare.

For a moment, I swear I see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. But then it's gone, replaced by that maddeningly neutral expression. "Good. I'll be back to inspect your work in an hour."

As he turns to leave, I blurt out, "Why do you hate me?"

Stryker pauses, looking back over his shoulder. "Hate you? I don't even know you, Cadet Peace."

"Then why single me out? Why embarrass me in front of everyone?"

He turns to face me fully, his silver eyes intense. "Because life as an enforcer isn't fair. It isn't easy. And if you can't handle a little embarrassment on your first day, you'll never survive what's to come."

With that, he strides out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a room full of what looks like dirty knee, shin and chest plates to clean.

As I get to work, my mind races. This isn't the life I want, nor is this the future I’ve dreamed of. But as I think about thealternative – a dreary existence on Earth, never to fly freely again – I realize I have no choice but to make the best of it.

And as for Trainer Stryker... well, I have a feeling my complicated relationship with him is only just beginning.

Chapter 2 - Stryker

The morning sun casts a golden glow over the training grounds as I survey the line of cadets before me. It's the first day of glider training, and I can feel the nervous energy radiating from the group. My gaze sweeps over them, assessing their posture, their focus, their readiness.

And then my eyes land on her. Casey Onyx Peace, the human cadet I’ve nicknamed, Cop.

I've been dreading this day, knowing I'd have to watch her in action. It's been two weeks since she joined the Academy, two weeks of me trying – and failing – to ignore the effect she has on me.

As the cadets mount their gliders, I can't help but notice how different Casey looks compared to the Equanox females. Where they are tall and willowy, all straight lines and angles, Casey is a study in curves. Her enforcer uniform, designed for Equanox bodies, strains against her ample chest and hugs her wide hips. It's like comparing a sleek, efficient machine to a work of art.

I shake my head, trying to clear these inappropriate thoughts. She's a cadet, for star's sake. And a human, at that.

"Alright, cadets," I call out, my voice echoing across the training ground. "This is your first official glider race. The course is simple – three laps around the floating platforms. First one to cross the finish line wins. But remember, this isn't just about speed. I'll be watching your technique, your decision-making, your ability to handle your glider under pressure."

My eyes lock with Casey's for a moment. Is it my imagination, or does she straighten up a little under my gaze?

"Any questions?" I ask, breaking eye contact.

Silence.

"Good. On my mark... get set... go!"

The air fills with the hum of glider engines as the cadets take off. I watch them rise, noting their takeoff techniques, their initial positioning. Most are decent, a few are sloppy, but one... one stands out.

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