Page 45 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“I feel voiding amazing,” Hyanxa says, flexing her wrist and testing its strength.

Tyrxie turns to me, an expression of disbelief in her stunning green eyes, now glowing with flecks of my golden love in their depths. “Well done, my love.” I smile at her.

“So, Tiny can heal. This means Scary knows future?” Quad inquires, scratching his head, struggling with the implications. “Scary is even more scary!” He booms, pointing a finger at me.

“Only to my enemies,” I assure, thinking of the evitable confrontation with the Prefect. The thought fills me with joy, relishing the justice I will bestow upon him.

“Any more doubts?” I inquire, glaring towards the others, lingering on Felixus and Mod. My Nebian friend’s mouth works soundlessly. “You look like you’re trying to catch znats, Felixus,” I jest. “Speak your concerns.”

Felixus blusters like he might offer more protests until he exhales, his shoulders loosening. “Void it. What’s the plan then, oh wise and mystical blockheaded oracle?” He mocks, smiling.

“Like I said you stubborn short-stuff, your Imperator under the Praetorian Prefect will hunt us relentlessly if we flee. There is only one path to victory. I will speak to your Imperator.” I turn to Tyrxie with a nod. “We will show him the errors of his ways, and then he will accept Krogoth’s peace offer.” I gaze at the others. “Peace is how we will win; peace is how we survive,” I state, knowing my words stretch to encompass all Klendathians.

Felixus frowns, rubbing his orange beard. “The Imperator is old. His mind fades. He’s no longer the brilliant leader he once was. I hate to say it, but it’s true.”

“It’s fortunate for us then, we have the perfect remedy,” I retort, smirking, watching in satisfaction as the realization dawns on Felixus as his eyes shift to Tyrxie.

Hyanxa scoffs. “Assuming we live long enough! Do yourpathsshow how the void we get through all the guards?”

“They do,” I answer simply. The paths show countless options, many ending in failure, but there are ways that can be navigated like one charts a voyage through space. “Do as I say, and fight your voiding hearts out, and I assure you—you will all live.”

“Good enough for me.” Hyanxa nods, adjusting her laser pistol in her hands.

As I move to leave, Quad raises a hand, his others occupied holding his giant laser cannon weapon. “Tiny, you heal rash between toes?” he asks, glaring at Mod. “His oil doesn’t work!”

Mod scoffs with surprising offense. “Because you digest precious ointments! No?”

“Oh.” Quad scratches his head as Tyrxie approaches him. I wonder how Kaanus possessed the patience to lead this strange band of misfits for so long.

I exit my torture chamber looking for the laser sword, finding it resting against the wall. The gleaming curved black metal beckons to me like an old friend—the one I’ve seen in my futures. Destined to become part of me, as familiar as the arm that wascut from my body. My hand grasps the fine leather hilt, the grip ironically massive for one as mutated as I am.

Yet I handle it with ease; my Klendathian strength is more than enough to bear it. I swing testing slashes. My balance feels strange, lacking my left arm as a counterweight. Smoothly, I shift into flowing forms, drawing in knowledge from a time yet to come, from a Xandor yet to be.

Activating the laser switch near the guard produces a buzzing hum as the black blade, engraved in gold, is enveloped in glowing crimson along its length, sparking with ominous power—the power to cut through anything.Even battlesuits. The thought brings a smile to my face as I return to the room, eager to finish this.

“Stop wiggling, Quad,” Tyrxie protests, trying to place her green, glowing hands on the recoiling Barlyxian.

I stand directly behind Quad, blocking him as he bounces off me in his haste to retreat. “Got you!” Tyrxie declares, clutching his leg.

“It tickles!” Quad complains as his squirming lessens and his expression shifts to one of joy. “Oh, itches gone!” he booms, shifting to remove a heavy metal boot. “I check.”

“Check after.” I beckon to others at the exit. “Soon they will discover why they’re locked out. It’s time to go.”

Tyrxie leaps past Quad as gracefully as a stalking venefex, followed by the others, with Quad taking the longest, carting his monstrous cannon around. My love wraps an arm around my waist, smiling up at me, reflecting my feelings back at me. “I’ll handle the guards. I won’t risk losing you.”

Tyrxie nods in agreement. Her trust in me is heartwarming, but I know she’ll fight tooth and claw to aid me?—my brave bonded female. She breaks her embrace, taking on the posture of a veteran mercenary, with her shifting eyes and rifle poised.

We make good time despite the others struggling to keep up with my long strides. Towards the end of the corridor, I spot the two fallen Nebian guards, noticing they are stunned but alive. Good, minimizing bloodshed will make the path to peace easier, although it will prove difficult in the coming moments.

Bounding up the stairwell, I hear Quad grumbling about being left behind. “Wait here,” I command, rounding the stairs to the next level. In a blur of movement, I rush to the armory, finding and equipping the same laser shield devices the others wear. Next, my gaze falls to a large coat, much larger than for a Nebian, perhaps made to keep the elements from their battlesuits. I toss it on awkwardly, and to my chagrin, have no way to tie the straps.

“Let me help you with that,” Tyrxie offers as I turn toward the others. Her delicate, tiny fingers brush my stomach and chest, sending tingles through me as she tightens my coat. For a fleeting, merciful second, I forget all thoughts of possible futures, seeing only my love. Drawing in her intoxicating scent, the sweetest aroma in the universe.

“Done,” she declares with a chuckle, and to my surprise, I realize I’m nuzzling the side of her beautiful face and groaning.

Jolting from my pleasurable bewitchment, I notice Felixus standing with a raised eyebrow. “Uh huh, what was it you used to say? You only like bigger females?” he mocks,

“She’s bigger than you, short-stuff,” I retort with a smile. “Besides, I can’t visit your high chieftain undressed. We Klendathians already have a false reputation of being near-naked savages.”

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