Page 9 of Saving the Alien Chieftain

“Oh, good! I hate waiting for taxis,” Pebbles exclaims, clapping her hands in excitement.

Pleased to see her happy, I squeeze Pebbles around the waist, pressing her tightly against me. Her feet hover above the ground as I carry her jogging towards the glider depot.

“Now’s not the time, Korgy, maybe later,” Pebbles protests loudly. I meet her feeble resistance with a gentle squeeze.

I glance back confirming Xandor, Logarn and Zelana are following closely behind. The hard sounds of our feet on the stone pavements are only drowned out by the music and laughter coming from the numerous pleasure houses and drinking dens of the side streets of Star City.

I cast my eye around, looking for any Magaxus warriors Zyraxis may have stationed. Luckily, the only people milling around are drunk patrons and pleasure females trying to coax customers into their respective establishments, the trades of the night thriving around us.

Before long, the glider depot looms ahead, a sprawling structure of open black marble. Glider vehicles ebb and flow in a constant ballet of motion, a communal transport hub accessible to any Klendathian citizen with the right authorization on their consoles.

Satisfied we are far enough away from the Last Resort, I gently lower Pebbles back down and call for a glider on my wrist console. It should arrive in mere moments, being so close to the depot.

“I’m starving!” Pebbles declares loudly, darting towards a vibrant food kiosk nearby. “This smells amazing.” I rush after her in case she does damage to herself… or the kiosk.

“I’ll have two of whatever those are!” Pebbles points to the fried zelatos dumplings. “Korgy, do you want some?” she asks, turning towards me. “Excuse me, better make that six.” She leans towards the plump, female Argorian cook, with particularly broad head spikes, whispering conspiratorially, “He’s a big boy,” before doubling over, laughing.

The Argorian cook looks me up and down, then smirks. “I can see that,” she quips, before she shifts her attention back to Pebbles. “Ain’t seen one like you before?” Her hands work deftly as she expertly prepares the food, tossing the zelatos into the sizzling fryer.

“I’m a human, from Earth,” Pebbles declares. Her tone is casual, as if we’re not in a hurry to escape. “We’re kind of new. Korgy brought me here after he kidnapped me.” Her words hang in the air, a mix of innocence and mischief dancing in her eyes. I can’t help but chuckle under my breath.Gods, Pebbles can never drink again.

I step in, trying to smooth the situation. “Ignore her. She isn’t yet accustomed to Klendathian liquor,” I say, my face heating slightly in embarrassment.

“And whose fault is that, Mister?” Pebbles stands hands on hips. “You got me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me.” She squeezes in closer against me, looking submissively under her eyelashes. “I know what you want…” Her eyes dart towards my lips. “Krogoth.” She emphasizes my name slowly. Even in this absurd situation, looking at me like this, it’s hard to resist kissing her.

“Six fried zelatos dumplings for collection. That’ll be twelve credits, please,” the Argorian cook bellows from the kiosk.

Pebbles extracts herself from our close embrace with a sudden realization. “Shit, I have no money. Can you pay, Korgy?” She rushes over to collect the bag full of delicious smelling dumplings.

I swiftly swipe my wrist console over the kiosk, settling the bill. “Pebbles, we don’t have time for this. We need to get moving,” I urge.

From the periphery of my vision, I catch sight of a glider touching down at the far end of the street. Relief washes over me. However, my relief quickly shatters as the glider’s doors swing open, revealing five warriors clad in the characteristic ashen armor of Clan Magaxus.

“Look, more of those scary ones, Korgy!” Pebbles declares loudly, pointing towards the warriors with her bag full of dumplings swinging from her wrist.

I quickly rise, placing a hand over Pebbles’ mouth, and gently guide her down behind the kiosk. The Argorian cook stares wide-eyed as I press a finger to my lips, signaling for silence and redirecting her focus. I keep us hidden from the approaching Magaxus warriors, whispering urgently, “Hush, Pebbles.”

My gaze shifts towards Xandor and the others. Thankfully, they have astutely recognized the danger and are now stealthily edging behind the black marbled walls of the depot. If the Magaxus warriors stay on their current course, they should pass us by, unaware of our presence.

Time seems to stop as we try to remain hidden. The sole audible sounds are Pebbles’ hushed breaths and the sizzle of the Argorian cook back at work. Suddenly, a gruff voice pierces the silence, accompanied by the unmistakable thud of armored boots on the stone-paved streets. “This way!” their leader announces, the words cutting through the stillness.

I cautiously raise my head above the edge of the kiosk, my eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. Fortunately,luck is on our side—the Magaxus warriors continue their way towards the Last Resort, completely oblivious to our presence. “Can we eat now?” Pebbles fusses, trying to reach for her bag of food as her voice carries a hint of innocent excitement.

I extend my hand to help Pebbles to her feet, noticing the glider I summoned streaming in from the sky as it gently hovers above the street, awaiting our entrance. “Time to go, Pebbles,” I tell her as I guide her towards the awaiting vehicle, careful to keep her focus on the glider ahead.

Pebbles ducks behind me to offer a parting wave, calling out to the Argorian cook, “It was a pleasure meeting you!”

The cook waves back tentatively. “Have fun, you two,” before she mumbles under her breath, “Crazy kidnap fetishists.”

Xandor, Logarn, and Zelana quickly join us in the glider, equally keen to get away from any more Magaxus warriors arriving. “Good thing we avoided them,” Xandor says “I don’t think Logarn could take another beating.” He chuckles, glancing over at Logarn.

Logarn’s expression remains cold and calm as he continues to survey the scene, showing no emotion as usual.

“Want some fried… whatever-they’re-called dumplings?” Pebbles interjects, swinging the bag around the faces of the group.

I gently place my hand on her arm, leading her into the vehicle. “No one wants dumplings.”

“Speak for yourself,” Pebbles scoffs before opening the bag, taking one of the brown offerings out, hungeringly devouring it. “These are amazing! Korgy, I want these every day,” she declares, grabbing another one and popping it into her delicious mouth.

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