Page 146 of Tempted by Celestial Bodies

I swallowed, wanting to say something, but my voice caught in my throat. Instead, I drifted forward one step, dropping to my knees beside the alien, careful not to tread on his wings. I hovered over him and my fingers trembled as I reached for him.

The pads of my fingers brushed across his cheekbone, but he did not stir. For a moment, my heart plummeted, like a starship shot out of the sky.

He was dead. I was too late.

Tears burned behind my eyes. This was not the first fallen soldier I had encountered, but the sight punched me in the gut, nonetheless. Maybe it was something about the alien’s appearance, clearly speaking of strength and grace, that made his lifelessness so jarring.

Then, a tickle against my inner wrist made me freeze. Another second, and it happened again. A puff of air.Breath, brushing the hand that still gently traced his face.

He was alive, but he needed my help.

* * *

I chewed fiercelyon my thumb nail, despite the fact that it was already bitten down to the quick. Under the harsh florescent lights of the med bay, my patient was even more magnificent, but seemingly no more alive. The mechanical aids in the bay had scurried to hook him up to tubes and contraptions, pumping him full of nutrients and hydration within minutes of me arriving with the alien on a hover-stretcher. They seemed unconcerned with him being of an unknown species, apparently finding his anatomy and physiology humanoid enough to proceed with standard protocols. But still the survivor didn’t stir. If not for the strength and steadiness of his breathing, I might think my strange passenger had slipped away already.

Most strange of all, he bore no visible wounds on his body.

I tore my fingers from my mouth, berating myself for falling back on the nervous habit, and stepped closer. I turned my mechanical eye on him, taking in the swirling tattoos painted over his torso and upper arms, the black against the dark gray of his skin not offering enough contrast to be seen without the bright lights of the medical bay.

I zeroed my enhanced vision on the designs, and words began typing themselves across my vision in neat orange letters as my mechanical eye ran the patterns through the database.

Markings of the Entari Warriors. High complexity indicative of great skill or royal lineage.

My brows rose. I mentally focused on the wordsEntari Warriorswith the odd sixth sense that I had gained since my cybernetic enhancement had been installed. At my will, more information began to appear, and I skimmed through it impatiently.

Perhaps the secret to this male’s current state had something to do with his unique biology. While the medical pods of the ship were theoretically equipped to handle most humanoid species, it was mostly tailored to humans. Perhaps it had overlooked some unique needs of the Entari. After all, I had never even heard of the Entari before, and while there were certainly dozens of species common to the Intergalactic Federation that I had never encountered, I was relatively well-traveled.

I frowned at the information from the database flicking before my vision. Little was known about the Entari, as they were a relatively secretive species who tended to not venture far beyond their home planet without need. Given the few attempts to invade and colonize the Entari home planet had been quickly and violently rebuffed, the rest of the Intergalactic Federation decided it was in their best interest to leave them to their own devices.

The sections on culture and biology in the digital encyclopedia were woefully short too, including inconsistent reports of psychic powers that seemed to be unfounded, considering instances of its practice had been documented in a very small number of specific cases. However, my brain stuttered over something at the bottom of the entry:

Entari are known to be blood drinkers. Consumption of blood is thought to be the source of their incredible strength and potentially necessary for use of rumored psychic powers.

Blood. Water and other nutrients didn’t seem to be reviving the male, but blood might be the key. Itwouldexplain the fangs, after all.

I hurried over to the cold storage at the back of the med bay, shuffling through the bags of fluids and medications until I found the few small packs of blood kept on board in case the need for infusion arose.

My fingers hovered over the bags, considering if it mattered which type I took. I didn’t even know if human blood would work, after all. I shrugged and grabbed the O-. If it was the universal donor for humans, perhaps it would work for the Entari.

Hurrying back to the male’s side, I spiked the bag with a length of IV tubing. I pursed my lips for a moment before dangling the free end over his lips. Carefully, I eased the clamp on the tubing partially open. A few drops fell from the rubberized end onto his lips.

I held my breath. He didn’t move.

Disappointment fell over my shoulders like a weight, and I sat on the edge of the stretcher, careful to avoid his wings, which laid tucked behind him as neatly as I had been able to manage with his unconsciousness. His enormous body had proved challenging to lift and arrange on a hover stretcher.

Despairingly, I reached out a hand, using a rubber-gloved finger to wipe the crimson droplets of blood off the male’s mouth.

As I pressed my thumb against his surprisingly plush bottom lip and dragged it out of the way, the length of a fang came into view, shining pearly white in the bluish fluorescence of the medical bay. I shivered but didn’t draw my hand away.

The fangs would indicate the Entari had evolved to drink blood directly from the source. An image of those fangs dug deep into my neck, the male’s body pinning me to the wall as he drank his fill, sprang unbidden to my mind. Maybe it was the lack of touch for months on end, but the vision awoke something inside me that wasn’t fear.

Maybe the Entari needed fresh blood, and I was the only available donor.

My hands trembled slightly as I shucked off the protective gloves. Maybe I had really gone delirious with loneliness, but I had no reservations about what I was about to do. For some reason, it felt… right. Like a voiceless whisper in my ear reassured me that I was on the correct path.

With my hands bare, I grabbed a scalpel off a nearby cart. I lined it up at my wrist and paused for the barest moment. I looked away from my arm at the lifeless, handsome face before me and pressed down.

My breath hissed between my teeth at the sharp sensation, replaced in an instant by the warmth of blood gathering in the small cut. Hurriedly, I lifted my arm to his face, a few droplets of blood falling on his exposed chest with the movement. They pooled in the valley between his pectorals, stark against the gray and black whorls of his tattoos.

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