Page 67 of Torn from the Alien Commander

Well, I can’t back down now.

I hold the cup to my lips with bated breath, feeling the bubbles popping against my skin as the Klendathians watch eagerly.Here goes nothing.I take a large, quick swig, hoping if it’ll pass my tongue, I’ll avoid the worst of it. Instead, the liquid fire bathes my throat, causing me to splutter as the strong alcoholic aroma kicks like a backfiring hyperdrive engine.

Fits of coughing rack me as Xandor rubs my back, mumbling soothing words. I notice some Nebians looking in our direction with disapproving mutters and grimaces. “Nothing to see here, official Klendathian Warrior of Peace business,” Xandor jests, still brushing my back.

After a moment, I’m able to straighten again, wishing I listened to my love. “Think I’ll stick with the blue one,” I rasp out.

“I like the black one,” Noroth shrugs as he swaps my cup for a blue one. “Got to hand it to the Nebians. They know how to make a good ale.”

“Indeed, it’s almost as good as ours. Who would’ve imagined the short-stuffs had it in them?” Xandor agrees, taking a drink from his own cup, relishing the taste somehow. “Not to mention this throne room,” he gestures with his arm out wide. “You warriors should’ve seen this place only some days ago, turned into a pile of rubble by the Prefect’s battlesuit. Place was half destroyed, isn’t that right Tyrxie?” Xandor looks at me, and I nod behind my cup. “Now it’s immaculate. I wish I could get them to work on my house,” he adds with a grin.

My ears prick up with excitement. “You have a house?” I inquire, my stomach fluttering, imagining living in Xandor’s massive mansion as impressive as this throne room, having never lived in one before.

“Yes, of course, back on Klendathor. I’ll take you there...” Xandor says with excitement until his voice trails off and a frown caresses his brow. “Wait, on second thought, it’s maybe not the wisest idea.”

My heart sinks at his words. “Oh... I understand,” I mutter, feeling silly for being so presumptuous.

Xandor raises a placating hand, almost spilling his drink. “It’s nothing like that! I’d love to have you living with me.” He takes a deep breath, his eye searching mine, a look of worry etched in his expression. “It’s my house....” Another long exhale. “It’s filthy. And I think I might have broken the food dispenser.” He hangs his head in shame.

“That’s one of your many talents!” I laugh, feeling elated and relieved at his words. I approach Xandor snuggling in next tohim, enjoying his strong presence. “Good thing I can fix it for you,” I beam at him.

“Xandor, warrior of filthy houses!” Noroth declares, rising his cups.

“Scary, basher of stinky!” The surprising but familiar voice of Quad booms.

I spin round in delight to see the crew approaching, dressed in clean clothes for once. “I guess they’ll just let anyone in here,” Xandor shouts over with mirth.

“We told them we’d hack their central controls again if they didn’t let us in,” Hyanxa retorts in jest, wearing a white robe in the Nebian style. She rushes towards Noroth, her fierce face changing to one of elation. They embrace awkwardly, Noroth burdened by the drinks. “I missed you, Noroth,” she purrs, so unlike her usual tone.

I’m just glad she got his name correct.

“And I you...” Noroth begins, risking a nervous glance back at Xandor. “My delicate little fuzzy borack,” he almost whispers the words.

Xandor and I exchange a look, loaded with barely suppressed laughter. “Delicate little fuzzy borack, my ass,” Xandor wheezes next to me, shaking his head. “Gods, he’s as blind as an old snarlbroc.” He erupts into laughter, which consumes my flagging resolve into shaking fits of hysterics.

“What’s so funny, you two?” Noroth glares at us with a smirking Hyanxa clutched in his arms. I swallow a lump in my throat and press tighter to my Xandor.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just jealous we’re the most-attractive couple here,” Hyanxa answers, stroking Noroth like she’s posing for an advertisement.

“Perhaps, most-heavy, although most-tall, maybe difficult to ascertain. No?” Mod interjects, approaching with some glowing measuring device pointed towards me.

I frown, swatting away the Glaseroid. “They can have that one, Mod.”But my Xandor’s far more handsome than Noroth!I almost say, but there’s a fierce pride in Hyanxa’s golden eyes that dissuades me.

“What about most-arms?” Quad booms, glancing between everyone, a look of concern on his broad green face. “I have most. Mod?”

A collective groan escapes as Mod examines Quad, with his fluttering arm limbs positioned beneath his mouth hole. “Affirmative. Though perhaps equal fingers to number of functioning brain cells. No?”

“Most arms!” Quad declares in triumph, flexing his exposed arms through his blue polymer shirt, oblivious to Mod’s insult.

“Quad deserves a promotion for all his hard work and... arms,” Noroth says, approaching the beaming Barlyxian. “Congratulations, Cupbearer,” he adds, handing Quad his bundle of filled drinks.

I feel a pang of sadness for Quad being mocked, but he seems to enjoy the attention. “Promotion?” Quad questions, glaring at the cups crowding his four hands. “I get more credits, Scary?” he asks, with a hopeful look directed towards Xandor.

Xandor begins speaking in his dramatic ambassador tone, one that I secretly adore. “Usually, it’s a role of honor and prestige. Fame is your credits, Glory is your—”

“Boring!” Quad declares, his voice booming, before, to my horror, he gulps down all the cups in unison, much of it spilling down his chin and chest.

“Stop, Quad!” I hurry over with an outstretched hand, but it’s too late. He’s already emptied them all.

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