Page 15 of Her Alien Guardian

“So the naked women… they’re all wives or concubines?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sala nodded. “Yes. Some, like myself, are senior wives who serve alongside their husbands in various capacities. Others are concubines brought along for comfort and support during long deployments.”

As we continued our journey, I couldn’t help but notice the easy camaraderie between the clothed and unclothed crew members. There was a sense of mutual respect and shared purpose that seemed to transcend their state of dress or undress.

We passed through a large, open area that Sala informed me was one of the ship’s recreational spaces. Here, off-duty crew members relaxed and socialized. I saw uniformed men and women engaged in games of strategy, while nearby, a group of naked concubines practiced what looked like a form of dance or martial art.

As we approached what I realized must be the bridge, from the way the corridor had begun to widen, my heart began to race. The enormity of what I was about to witness hit me full force. I could hardly believe I would see the fall of the empire that had defined my existence for so long, and yet it seemed true. My palms grew clammy, and I found myself gripping Sala’s hand even tighter.

The doors to the bridge slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a scene of controlled chaos. Officers moved purposefully between stations, their voices a low murmur of technical jargon and status reports. The air crackled with tension and anticipation.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the massive viewscreen that dominated the far wall. It showed a breathtaking vista of stars, with the blue-green orb of Vion Prime hanging in the center like a precious jewel. At this scale, I could even make out—with the help of the blue circles added by thePrince Hend’s computers—the impressive array of capital ships that surrounded the planet. The combined might of the Magisterian fleet had indeed come to finish the grim job of extinguishing their enemy.

My enemy,I tried to persuade myself, my heart thudding.

The figure seated in the captain’s chair, though, was what truly captured my attention. Captain Alpha’s massive blue form seemed to dwarf the seat, his powerful presence filling the entire bridge. As we entered, he turned his head and his silver-violet eyes locked onto us. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

With a gesture that was both regal and welcoming, Alpha beckoned us forward. “Sala, Tessara,” he said, his deep voice resonating through the room. “Come, stand by me. We’re going to bend the course of galactic history.”

As we moved to his side, I couldn’t help but notice the way the crew’s eyes flickered toward us. There was curiosity there, yes, but also a sort of respectful acceptance that still baffled me. Here we were, completely naked, and yet no one seemed to find it odd or inappropriate.

Alpha’s hand came to rest on the small of Sala’s back as she took her place beside him. The gesture looked casual, possessive, and filled with an intimacy that made my cheeks burn. I stood on his other side, acutely aware of my nudity and the marks that still covered my body.

“Open communications with General Vex,” Alpha commanded, his voice carrying easily over the bustle of the bridge.

The viewscreen flickered, and suddenly we were looking into the opulent throne room of the Imperial palace. The contrast between the Magisterian ship’s sleek efficiency and the gaudy excess of Vionian royalty was jarring.

In the center of the screen stood a tall, imposing man in a general’s uniform. His face was lined with the weight of recent events, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination. Behind him, sprawled unceremoniously on the ornate floor, lay a body.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth as I recognized the fallen figure. The Emperor, the man whose word had been law, whose whims had shaped the lives of billions, lay dead at the general’s feet. His once-resplendent robes were stained with blood, his unseeing eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Captain Alpha,” the general said, his voice steady despite the wild scene behind him. “On behalf of the free people of Vion, I thank you and the Magisterian Federation for your invaluable assistance in overthrowing the tyrant.”

As the general spoke, I felt my world tilt on its axis. The words seemed to echo in my head, each syllable chipping away at the foundations of everything I thought I knew. My masters, the officers of theConqueror of Bresla, had drilled it into me over and over: the empire was eternal, unassailable. The Emperor was a benevolent ruler, loved by all. His word was law, his wisdom beyond question.

And yet here I stood, naked and trembling, watching that supposed eternity crumble before my eyes. The man who had been portrayed as a living god lay dead on the floor of his own palace, discarded like so much refuse. The general—a man who should have been the epitome of loyalty to the crown—spoke of tyranny and freedom with equal measures of disgust and hope.

I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes, hot and stinging. They spilled over, tracing warm paths down my cheeks as I struggled to reconcile the reality before me with the lies I had been force-fed for so long. My breath came in short, sharp gasps, my chest tight with emotion I couldn’t even begin to name.

The general continued, his words washing over me in a dizzying torrent. “The Emperor’s crimes against his own people were innumerable. The suffering he inflicted, the lives he destroyed in his quest for power and pleasure—it’s beyond comprehension. But thanks to your intervention, that reign of terror has come to an end.”

I watched, mesmerized, as the camera panned across the throne room. The opulent decorations I had once seen as the height of glory now seemed garish and obscene. Gold-plated statues leered from every corner, their faces twisted in expressions of cruel delight. The walls, draped in rich fabrics, were stained with what I realized with a jolt of horror was blood—both fresh and old.

In the background, I could see figures moving about—some in military uniforms, others in the tattered remains of what must have been courtly finery. Many were injured, their faces streaked with dirt and tears. But in their eyes, I saw something I had never expected to see in the Imperial palace: hope.

“The transition will not be easy,” the general was saying, his voice grave. “Generations of oppression and cruelty have left deep scars on our society. But with the support of the Magisterian Federation, we have a chance to build something new. Something better.”

CHAPTER 9

Tessara

As the general spoke, I felt my legs begin to tremble. The weight of everything I had witnessed threatened to overwhelm me. Sala must have sensed my distress, for she moved silently behind Alpha’s chair, coming to stand beside me. Her arm slipped around my waist, offering silent comfort and support. I leaned into her touch gratefully, drawing strength from her presence.

Alpha’s deep voice cut through the general’s speech, his tone severe. “General Vex,” he said, his silver-violet eyes flashing with an intensity that made even the battle-hardened Vionian officer pause. “Before we proceed further, there is something I must ask of you.”

The general straightened, his expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness. “Of course, Captain Alpha. What would you have me do?”

Alpha’s massive hand gestured toward me, and I felt my heart leap into my throat. “This young woman,” he said, his voicesofter now but no less commanding, “is Tessara. She was a concubine aboard one of your Imperial starships, subjected to unspeakable cruelties in the name of your former Emperor.”

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