Page 7 of Torn from the Alien Commander

“I go all in. Yes?” Job scoffs, glaring at his brother before pushing in his large stack of utensils. He sits back with many arms folded, tapping his finger, staring at Logarn.

Mod sighs, “My brother is foolish. No?” he suggests with a grimace before placing his cards flat on the table in defeat. “I’m out,” he declares.

I watch them with curious interest, somehow invested in the outcome, despite the game being fought over voiding polymer spoons and forks. Only the fate of my borack steaks draws me away as I plate them, ensuring each crew member has one, a final parting gift—actual food.

“So, Job, show us what you got?” Hyanxa chimes in with an eager tone, leaning over the tables.

“Feast gooey mammaloid eye orbs on this! Yes?” Job exclaims, his antennae now fluttering with wild excitement. He turns over his cards revealing—pictures I do not understand. “Plasma core, two laser generators. Twenty-one points, very high. Yes?” Job declares, as all eyes shift to Logarn who shows no inkling of emotion.

“That’s a tough score to beat!” Tyrxie exclaims, turning towards Quad, a look of concern on her beautiful face. “What have you got, Quad?”

Quad beams, on the verge of a glorious victory, chest tall and proud like a conquering hero. “Look!” he shouts, slamming down his three hands, rocking the table and revealing more cards I don’t recognize. “I win?” He glances around at the others.

Everyone groans, except for Job, who laughs, and Logarn, who is still unmoved. “Quad, you big dummy.” Tyrxie shakes her head, staring at the cards. “One arcweave, a supernova and a meteor shower. That’s minus four points.”

“Oh.” Quad scratches his bald green head. “But I called bluff?” His words elicit more groans of exasperation from the others.

Mod exchanges a knowing look with Job, who now almost vibrates with impatience. “Reveal cards, giant blond mammaloid! Yes?” Job demands with a pointed, elongated finger.

Logarn turns over his three cards, provoking gasps and laughter. “Two Elerium, one laser generator. Twenty-seven points,” he states, his brown eyes flicking to Job, who crumbles into his chair in defeat. “I win,” he finishes, gathering the large pile of polymer forks and spoons.

“Two Eleriums, what are chances? Yes?” Job grumbles, sulking as he folds his many arm limbs.

I laugh, bringing over the borack steaks, the tantalizing aroma tickling my senses. “Well played Logarn,” I say, leaving him a plate and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations. Yet it saddens my heart that he cannot feel joy in his victory.

With haste, I distribute the meals, saving the last one for my Tyrxie “Hail,” I declare with a wink at my alluring female. “This one’s for you. The best one, already cut up,” I offer as I descend onto the tiny seat that almost breaks under my weight.

“Oh, yummy!” Tyrxie says, her stunning green eyes lighting up. “These look even better than last time.”

“I could say the same about you,” I tease, wrapping my arm around her gentle frame. “Here, try a piece,” I offer, spearing a chunk on my extended claw, pleased to see Tyrxie opening her gorgeous full lips.

So eager and pleasing she is, watching her do anything is a wonder to me. I’ve never felt this content and happy with a female. It’s like she’s a part of me, completing me, forming a whole warrior that I didn’t know was incomplete. I try to recall my earlier objections, frowning as I struggle to fathom why I resisted. The reasons seem so petty and trite now in the face of my growing fierce love for her.

I pop the piece of steak into her mouth, and she groans in pleasure, savoring the favors. Joy and longing surge within me as her eyes flick to mine, almost drowning me in their sparkling emerald depths. “MMmm! Tastes way better than last time!” she declares with a smile.

“It helps when the infernal machine behaves itself,” I reply, glaring at the food dispenser, wondering what foul tricks it’ll play next time. “But dig in. There’s plenty to go round.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Tyrxie smiles, and in a dazzling and impressive display, she devours the chunks of steak. I grin, watching her enjoy her food, glad she’s at last getting adequate nutrition.

As I eat my own, I notice Job and Mod grumbling in protest, staring at their steaks as if fearing they’ll spring to life at any moment. “Mammaloid flesh? Yes?” Job questions as he prods the meat with a flimsy spoon.

Mod uncovers a purple ointment from his long coat and pours it onto his steak. “Hmm, indeed mammaloid flesh, protein too high, fat too low, lacks the crunch of exoskeleton. No?” he questions, as I frown, watching his ointment dissolve the delicious meat.

Job’s antennae twitch in disapproval as he plucks his steak to begin sucking the end, the slurping sounds making me shudder. “Just eat the voiding thing!” I yell at the pair, glaring at them.

Mod shrugs, and Job plops his steak onto his plate. “Flavor un-segmented, texture lacks proper chitin glaze, like chewing sponge. Yes?” he complains, puckering his mouth hole together.

Voiding Glaseroids!“There’s no accounting for taste,” I say, waving a dismissive hand at the pair as the brothers each uncover a canister, spilling the horrible contents onto their plates.

Squirming larva creatures writhe and slither, their plump white flesh glistening in the low light. “These are Glaseroiddelicacy. Much better than mammaloid flesh. Yes?” Job suggests as he and his brother move to swallow the disgusting creatures whole.

All the ‘mammaloids’ recoil in revulsion except Logarn. Noroth even stands up, his red skin turning a touch paler. “Not this again!” he booms, standing bolt upright and almost sending Hyanxa flying, motioning to leave the room. “I’m going to be sick.”

At his words, the ship’s warning lights kick into action, casting ominous red around the room, as loud sirens fill the stunned silence. I jump up, wasting no time, knowing that this is it, the moment of truth—we’re breaching the borders into Nebia. “Everyone, arm yourselves and prepare for hostile actions,” I roar over the clamoring alarm.

“Tyrxie, stay by my side.” I turn to the female who is my beating heart, gazing into her green eyes.

Her soft, sweet face hardens, resolve forming into the stern eyes of a warrior. “I’m by your side always, Xandor,” she cements with a solemn nod that stirs my soul.

---